#sorry i suddenly remembered how many people she killed and turned into furniture...maybe if she hadn't manufactured them as inherently

[mourningmaybells]

whenever i get into my moods i have to physically restrain myself because adventure time is sometimes deep but it's not THAT deep and I need to pull myself away from the deep end anyways

[nishisun]

suna rintaro is NOT a genius.

summary: you loved the idea of soulmates. suna rintaro didn’t. it isn’t that hard to put two and two together to realize that maybe people with different opinions on things don’t belong together.

part 2

a/n: this was literally supposed to be a series, i gave up on it because i just didn’t like the way it turned out. it used to be called “out of my league” and this was the intro. i also renamed it. just emptying drafts!! please don’t get confused with the random timeskip, once again, this was a part of a series i never ended up posting😭

WARNING!!: suggestive themes, mentions of death, idk kinda angsty but tell me if i missed anything

Soulmates. Whatever the hell that means. The idea of soulmates is something I truly don’t understand. It’s bullshit, honestly. It’s all-pervasive.

My mother always told me I'd eventually find "the one.” I used to believe that when I was younger of course. But in my opinion? It’s all cliches. It's unhelpful, and it's certainly not true. Destiny is an excuse for the weak. Why do you think most marriages end in divorce? It's 'cause people who believe they are “destined to be" assume everything will fall into place without any effort. I don't appreciate people pontificating bullshit like that just to make me feel better, especially if they haven't found their "soulmate" themselves. My sister once told me, “People who believe in soulmates are more likely to break up and encounter more difficulty in their relationship, which will lead them to give up on one another eventually.”

I sure do believe that.

My mother is a prime example. Fumeiko Suna, my dear mother. Well, she clearly hasn’t found hers. I found out when I came home after a tedious day of school in 5th grade and found my dear mother on the floor crying, with bruises all over her face and a busted lip.

Initially, I thought a burglar had broken into our home once again, but if that were the case then there would’ve been missing furniture. But there wasn’t.

In fact, the place seemed cleaner than usual. When I ran up to her and asked her what had happened, there he was. The devil himself. My father. He reeked of alcohol, and I could detect his shadow towering over me. It’s funny how that I think of it. I used to fear that son of a bitch. Now, I’m way taller than him, and hate his guts. I turned around to see a faux-sympathetic smile plastered on his face.

He explained how my mother was being “clumsy” and had fell and busted her lip on one of the corners of the kitchen table and when I turned back around to face my mother, she smiled gently and nodded in agreement. She didn’t say anything after that.

It was then I realized my father had beat my mother to a pulp.

Long story short, when I found it was my father, sure, I was frightened. In fact, I remember going into my siblings’ rooms to inform them, they shrugged it off and told me that dad had been doing it for a while now.

Over time, when my dad had found out that I was aware, he didn't mind beating the absolute shit out of my mother in front of all three of us. This was when my burning hatred for that man started. Nobody in the house even attempted to stop him. I did a few times, though. He took all his anger out on me. At least my mom had a break for the day.

I almost pitied my mother. Almost. Maybe if she was strong enough to leave him, then yeah, I’d feel bad. But she still decides to stay with his sorry ass. It’s pathetic. It’s unrequited love or whatever you call it. How could she still love that asshole?

I mean, I’m not even going to lie, I’m an asshole too, but I’m definitely not my dad. I would never want to be him. He’s not someone I looked up to, he doesn’t do anything inspirational. He’s a businessman. He travels the majority of the time, and I’m pretty sure my mom invites men over when he’s gone. I don’t care enough to find out. But if I ever hear some guy rearranging my mom’s guts, I’ll kill him. I don’t even blame my mother. What she’s doing is wrong, she knows it and so do both of my older siblings. But they don't seem to care so why should I?

Who knows why she just won’t leave him. Maybe it’s cause they don’t want to ruin how people view our “picture perfect” family. I wonder what they’d say. “I thought the Suna’s were the ideal family? I guess not.”

My dad would probably lose it if he heard that.

Both my mother and my father are the cause of this broken family of mine. They never fed me or any of my siblings the love we always desired when we were younger. They never came to any of my volleyball games when I was younger. They never applauded me for the little recitals we’d have in class in primary school. They were never even here for most of my childhood. They always put money first and left us with the housekeepers. Hell, the housekeepers probably know me better than my own parents.They failed as parents. I despise them for it. They’re most likely the reason I am the way I am, but to be honest?

I don’t give a fuck.

In fact, I should thank them! Because of how they “raised” me, i’m extremely blunt, which is why people respect me. I use the hatred I have for my family and take it out on people and no, I’m not proud of that. I may be a heartless asshole, but I like that people fear me. The hell? Does that make me a sadist? Either way, people know to never fuck with me cause I’d fuck their shit up. I’ve overheard many people say it’s ‘cause of my privilege. It probably is. Money can’t buy happiness, but it sure can buy you many other things.

If my parents were broke, I’d probably be expelled from school by now. Abuse of alcohol and drugs are forbidden on school property. I don’t even take them at school, I somewhat care about my education and health, but sometimes I just need to blow some steam. Even if I did, nobody’s gonna say shit since my dad is the head of Japan’s board of education. How did his ass even get there?

Call me lonely or cynical. Maybe I am. But how is that a bad thing? Why do people need a significant other to rely on? What, a soulmate is just going to turn my life upside down then suddenly bring me happiness? Pfft, I’m gonna need actual proof that shit like that still happens. I’ve only seen shit like that in fairy tale movies. It’s whatever, though. I can live with being alone. I’ve basically been alone my whole life and it isn’t as bad as people make it.

You loved the idea of having a soulmate. The thought of meeting someone who just understood you, accepted you for who you were, and most importantly, loved you excited you. You couldn’t wait to meet your soulmate.

But recently, you weren’t sure soulmates existed.

When your older sister, Akira, came into your room and burst into tears, it frightened you. Your older sister, the one who’d always provide you advice on relationships and how to keep one was in your room sobbing hysterically because hers hadn’t worked out.

“I just can't believe it,” she sobbed.

You couldn’t believe it either. Your sister had recently gotten engaged to her boyfriend of 9 years. They started dating at the age of 15 and managed to make things work out even after high school, and out of all those years of dating, they never broke up. Not even once.

They’d go on romantic dates on Saturdays and they’d always write love letters to one another every day, just to remind one another of how grateful they were to have each other in their lives. On Halloween, they’d dress up as fictional characters from TV shows and books and take cute selfies and bake a bunch of sweets. They’d invite you to come bake with them, but you would politely deny. You knew they were only offering so you wouldn’t feel left out, which you appreciated.

Of course, they’d argue every now and then, but at the end of the day, they always managed to talk things out. Oh to have a relationship like theirs. They were everything you wanted to have in a relationship and more.

“I really thought he was the one for me, y’know?” No, you don’t know. But that doesn't matter. What mattered was cheering your sister up.

“Maybe he wasn’t ‘the one’ Akira, and that’s okay! People come and go all the time, soulmates come and go all the time as well-”

“You still believe soulmates are real, huh?” she let out a humorless laugh and sniffed her nose, “What If I missed my one shot at love, Y/N? What if I lost my soulmate?”

That’s some deep shit.

Now that you think about it, were soulmates real? Soulmates come and go, yes, you’re aware of that, but even though they leave, it’s always temporary. Soulmates always find a way back to their other half, the piece that completes them.

Your dad never made it back to your mother.

He died in a car crash 5 years ago. Your mother and father had been arguing because she claimed your father was cheating on her since he wouldn’t let her check his phone.

You were 13 at the time. Your sister Akira was accompanying you in your room, listening to them arguing back and forth with one another. There was furniture flying across the room, glass breaking, and both of them throwing curses at each other. You were scared. They never argued in front of you and your sister. They'd bicker sometimes, but it was never anything too deep.

Eventually, your father had enough of your mother’s false accusations, and out of anger, he packed his things and left home. For weeks. It wasn’t until one of your uncles called your mother and broke the news. She didn’t take it very well.

Late 2012-early 2013.

Not many people came to your father’s funeral, his family didn’t like the fact that he and your mother were together, they said your mother was trouble, but your dad still stayed with her, even if that meant it would completely destroy the bond he had with his family. Now that’s true love, you had thought. Only your mother, Akira, the Sunas, your uncle, and you, of course, attended the funeral.

It hurt a lot. It hurt when your mother informed both your grandparents on your mother and father’s side and all they could do is put the blame on her. It hurt how they had claimed you, Akira and your mother were a hindrance to your dear father’s well-being. How could they be so cruel at a time like this?

That was the first time you ever questioned if soulmates were real. Maybe they fell in love at the wrong time? Who knows.

After your father’s passing, Fumiko Suna, your mother’s best friend, was there to help your family out financially. Your mother couldn’t even find the motivating to go to work. Your mother and Fumiko have been best friends since junior high, they’ve literally been inseparable ever since. In fact, after they both got married, they decided to live right next to each other.

Your mom didn’t cope with your father’s death very well; none of you did. But your mom had it the worst.

She would cope with alcohol and clubbing which would always result in her bringing different men home almost every night. You didn’t say much about it, you thought it would be selfish to since that’s what seemed to make your mother feel better about herself, but your sister hated it. She was already 19 and in college at the time, but when she visited and found out that your mother had basically been neglecting you, she was furious.

“Seriously, mom? This is what you’re gonna do while your 13-year-old daughter is in her room having a literal mental breakdown because of your childish behavior?” Your sister had barged into your mother’s room when she thought you were asleep, she was screaming loud.

“You’re interrupting something important, Akira. You know better than to-”

“Oh, shut the hell up mom. You’re the last person on earth to be saying shit like that.”

“Well, if you’re done, you can leave my room now. You’re being disrespectful, and this behavior is not tolerated!” Your mother was screaming now. The man in the bed covering his body under the covers and looking back and forth between Akira and your mother.

“Sakiya, maybe you should hear your daughter out-”

“Not now.” your mother scarcely interrupted the man, eye contact never leaving Akira. “Y/N has never complained about this when you were in college. She knows this is my way of coping, why can’t you understand that too!”

Akira scoffed. “So what, getting fucked by random strangers you find on the filthy streets is your way of coping? Getting wasted every damn night to the point where Y/N has to drag you up to bed is okay with you? Do you even know how much this is affecting Y/N? Did you even bother asking her how she felt? I hate breaking it to you mom, but you need serious help.”

“You selfish child!” Your mother screamed, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her body, getting up from the bed. “How dare you say that to your own mother?”

“I’m only telling the truth! If you’re the mother, then it’s your job to be taking care of Y/N, not neglecting her. When’s the last time you’ve engross in an actual conversation with her when you were fully sober?”

Your mother was silent. She quickly walked up to Akira and grabbed her by the hair and slammed her headfirst against the wall.

“You’ve got a big mouth! Maybe I should wash it with soap like I did back in the day, hm?” Akira was attempting to push her mother away, but she wouldn’t let go of her grip. The man that was still on your mother’s bed was in panic, yelling her name, which didn’t have any effect. He might as well stop.

"Look," Akira mumbled, struggling to get away from your mother's grip, "I know it's been hard ever since dad left-"

“Mom! Let go of her!” You cried from the door of her room.

All 3 adults froze and looked at your glassy eyes, mouths wide open.

“Hey, kiddo, I thought you were asleep?” Akira playfully said, your mother let go of Akira and crossed her arms then looked away from you.

“Well, I can't really go to sleep when there’s a bunch of adults yelling about my well-being,” you muttered incoherently. You quickly wiped the uncontrollable tears off your face and sighed.

“Honey,” your mom started, she walked slowly to you, carefully examined your face, and attempted to hug you, but you didn’t accept the offer which made your mother frown. She stopped walking until she was almost face to face with you and placed a hand on your shoulder gently. “Baby, your sister told me that you weren’t happy. Is this true?”

You looked away from her and stared dully at the floor, subtly shifting your feet, then you softly shook your head “no.”

“See Akira, Y/N is happy. So please stop stressing her out.” Your mother said through gritted teeth, then faced you once again. “Y/N honey, how about I go tuck you into bed, hm? I’m so sorry for the excessive noise that was caused.”

“Mom, how clueless can you be? Y/N looks miserable! It’s unhealthy for Y/N to be living-“

Slap.

Your mother just slapped Akira on the face.

“I know what’s best for my daughter! I am her mother! You are not the one who should be telling me how to take care of my own kid!”

“That’s enough, Sakiya.” a familiar voice said from the door.

“Fumeiko-“

“It’s fine. Sakiya, we need to talk.” It was Fumeiko Suna, your mother’s best friend, also known as your next door neighbor. She had been standing in the hallways the whole time, you didn’t even know she was there. Akira was the one who called her over.

That night your mother agreed to get help for her drinking problem. She was gone for 6 months. During those 6 months, the Suna’s took you in since Akira would be in college and you couldn’t have been more grateful.

You and Rintaro were the only kids in the house, being that you both were the same age and the others were in college. It was okay, they were all very polite, dinners were awkward, you could feel some sort of tension between the family but you didn’t pay any attention to it.

When your mom finally came back, it was awkward at first. She still seemed the same, loving and caring, just sober and free of alcohol. It was nice. You two spent the weekends bonding at the mall, watching a movie, or even getting your nails done. Eventually, she gained your trust back, and you couldn’t have been happier.

January 2017.

“Akira, don’t say that. You may not believe me now, but you are such an amazing person, don’t ever think you’ll never find love again. It’s all about having a positive mindset!” you said, thoughtfully stroking her hair as her head laid on your chest.

“I told you that.”

“You did,” you chuckled, “you should take your own advice.

“Oh, shut up!” you both laughed, and Akira let out a shaky sigh. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Of course, you don't need to thank me. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

— so this is one of the writings that i wrote in January 😭 it’s been in my drafts and i re-read it once and instantly hated it right after. if there’s any typos please tell me!!

— also i wanna apologize again for putting gmds on hiatus,, i feel so bad 😭 i wanna make it up to you guys but idk how so if you have suggestions pls tell me

[voidcat]

— fangs dipped in wine

characters: chuuya nakahara, you

info: vampire au, lowkey suggestive, 2.3k

a/n: let's all pretend for a hot second bram stoker was an actual author in bsd and that instead of abilities, there are vampires<3 I'll probably do a p2 to this in a timeskip way so itll b more fun yay,,

Several days ago, it was just an idea. A laughing matter. A ‘what-if’ to build scenarios on and giggle.

Several days ago, it was night time too, the taste of alcohol fresh, her laugh right beneath your ear, it was warm, and bubbly and there was a sense of direction, a certainty.

Several days ago your friend hadn’t suddenly announced dropping out and moving out of the shared apartment you two had yet. Maybe she had been considering for a while now but in that very moment, it hadn’t happened yet, your world wasn’t upside down.

“Just imagine!-“ her breath fawned over your ear, glasses clinking against one another. “So I’m talking to this guy, right? Like music stuff, and movies, and all. No feelings whatsoever,” you found it hard not to roll your eyes and was met with a shove. “Not like that!” she protested. “He tells me about his boyfriend, I even helped him plan a surprise party once.”

“You cannot know if he’s faking…” you remember saying, in that knowing tone, smooth like silk and lecturing. “Yea whatever. Anyways! Get this:” placing the glass down in concentration that was foreign to her, you were intrigued.

“They don’t have vampires.”

“No way.” Slowing taking another sip from your drink, it sounded like a fantasy almost. Sure, there were rumors of not every country having vampires but it was numbered, there were so little, and the vampires? They were ever present.

“So he says: ‘Hey, aren’t they all rich peeps always wanting fresh blood? What if you have lots of blood already, and make a deal? You can trick them to pay you loads for it and you’d not even have to have them near your neck!’-“ she paused to let out a bark, you’re sure she’s been doing it since she first saw the message.

“And-“ another pause, to shed a tear, “and he says, ‘and if the vampire is hot? Bonus points! They got those fancy houses, you’d no longer pay rent either.’” The mocking of the voice comes to an end. “Can you believe? A deal, with a Vampire of all people! And he says rent fixed!”

You had to admit, for someone who claims to not met any vampires, it sounded charming on paper, but in Yokahoma?, not so much. At a moment of weakness, you looked at one another, daring, and next, breaking into a fit of laughter and downing the glass in one gulp.

How many days has it been since that night? Five? Maybe seven? It was long enough to miss her presence now, but too short to be threatened by the landlord.

One night you’re at your favorite pub with your dearest friend downing drink after drink. You can remember the stars in the sky that night, you thought it was just your brain imagining it, as well as the crescent moon hanging so delicately.

And next thing you know, you’ve just left this bar, despite the temperature it was cold on your bones, and here stands the redhead, his breath fawning over your neck, mouth open, but not to tell a story for the laughs.

He didn’t bother to hide the fangs and you didn’t bother to leave the place.

An idea you called stupid few nights ago just happened to make sense in that sad sulking state. And then he had to appear, with a glass of expensive wine, locks covering his face just fine, a vest that fits his body perfectly and fangs shining under the dim lights of the bar.

“Oh-kay, that’s enough.” You push his face off with your palm in one go. The ‘thump’ of his hat falling on the floor and the yelp coming from his lips fill the air.

“You’re no fun.” he pouts as he picks up his hat.

“So, how we’re doing this? And no, you cannot drink straight from my neck!” you finish before he can raise a finger.

A moment of silence follows the two of you, it’s a nice place. Expensive looking furniture though it’s more like a house from a catalogue than a home. Still, impressive –he, ‘what was his name again?’, definitely has a taste. The empty crystal glasses sit on the table, next to the bottle, a candle close to burning out completely flickers its flame lazily as your eyes wander.

Your gaze moves onto his sapphire eyes then, watching your every move and breath carefully, but not patiently. You can hear him vibrate with every molecule in his body, trying so hard not to lunge forward or speak up, maybe grab your arm and pull you back towards his chest.

“So? Hello?..” you drag the the ‘o’ and wave a hand in front of his face, “Anyone home?”

Like someone hypnotized stepping out of a trance at a snap of fingers, he jolts, pupils narrow, then widen and focus on your face. “Ah, sorry-“ he starts walking away.

Then he fakes a cough, as if you didn’t catch him staring already… Just how the hell did you find this guy in a city filled with vampires?

He stops, turns back, reaches for your hand and you let him. “Did you drink the wine?” he walks a step ahead, still hand in hand.

“If you ask me one more time, I’ll start suspecting you added some sort of drug.” This seems to get to him, obvious from the way he almost trips on his foot and turns back in a hurry, both hands up in defense and shaking his head like crazy.

“Wh- No- No, no no! It’s nothing like that- I-“ if he didn’t look so embarrassed, you’d even say he looks flustered. His rambling stops when you snort and decide to take pity on the guy.

“Relax I was just joking.” His shoulder drop in relief. “Besides, if you put anything, it’d have kicked in by now.”

“Ah, yeah, right…” he looks down, to his right, and that’s when you see the velvet couch there. He extends his hand, in an offering manner and follows you right after.

Reaching for a pocket in his vest, he whispers to himself, you barely hear. “I just like the taste of wine in blood...”

“Weird, not what I expected, but could be worse. I’ll take it.”

Another silence follows, he avoids your gaze while your eyes never leave his eyes fumbling with his vest and cape. Maybe it’s like one of those cape like jackets, certainly matches the vibe he carries.

Under the shivering candle light, he looks so different from the bold smug suave guy who brimmed with confidence, flashed his teeth like nothing, as if the world belongs to him and anything that does not care for him simply does not exist.

And now with the same face, sits besides you someone else, eyes cast down, hands fumbling, there’s comfort in knowing this is as awkward for you as for him.

(You wonder for a second if there’s something you can do to clear the atmosphere.)

“Maybe you should be having another glass instead of asking me.” You try to say nonchalantly and it takes him a second to get what you mean. Then he smiles, and the hint of a small giggle comes out and his body seems to calm down.

“Give me your hand.” He holds out his, the palm facing the ceiling. “Well? This is the easiest way to do it without leaving permanent marks.” He sounds irritated.

“Or noticeable.” You say and he repeats, a little impatient.

Giving him your less dominant hand, you eye the dagger for as long as you can. When the cold blade meets your palm, you can barely feel its weight.

“Okay, I’ll be honest here.” He stops midway, the dagger in the air. You raise an eyebrow, signaling him to continue. “I’ve never done… this before.”

“So- uh- whatever’s the standart payment, or the whole, you know,” he waves the hand holding the dagger in the air “etiquette for this.” He sounds to be relaxing with each word. And with him, so do you. Then comes back that familiar confidence from the earlier, decorated with a hint of threat and a dare. “Just- Don’t ever try to scam or fool me.”

And goes away the determined face, replaced with surprise, as you start laughing loud, one hand over your stomach.

“Look, listen-“ you stop as you’ve begun. “Chuuya.” He fills the gap for you.

“Listen, Chuuya.” You test his name on your lips. “I’m a broke college student who can get kicked out of their flat any day now. Crossing a vampire is the last thing on my list, trust me.”

Eyes soften, a genuine smile blooms and the silence to follow isn’t heavy anymore.

When he slashes the dagger over your hand, it doesn’t sting. The blood soon reaches the surface, red thick liquid glistening in the candle’s flame, ‘life’ it says.

This is what they want, why they want it, drink it, kill for it.

Hidden in the blood, is life, with all it has seen and will see, warm, moving, trusting.

You watch in a daze as he brings your hand to his mouth. Cold lips make content with your skin, how cold and lifeless they feel against you, you see in clear contrast. The sinking of teeth doesn’t come, you don’t flinch. You can tell he’s making an effort not to bite too hard into your giving hand. Drinking the blood slowly, trying to contain himself from getting greedy, there’s no sound in the air except for your loud heartbeat, echoing in your ear and fastening with each move of his back.

The glimpse of a smile you catch in this scene before you tells, he can hear it too, and probably relish in it.

With each flicker of the flame, his lips start to feel warmer and soon he straightens up. Not a single speck of blood on his frame, he offers you the same smug smile from earlier.

Blood makes place for itself on his face, like roses blooming under the sun. His skin gains color, you didn’t notice just how dull and gray he was up until now. Life spreads so fast in his limbs, soon you can feel his warmth near you, in the air, in your hand, on the spot your knees touch. Once the base color is done, pink decorates his cheeks faintly, most likely an after effect of all that wine.

Maybe if he intervened his fingers with yours, it’d feel warmer, and in a weird way, safer.

Watching your eyes on him with amusement in his crystal ones, he seems to enjoy this, that is until his eyes focus on a spot of yours and cannot stop examining every other spot, every single pore, mark, hair and color you have, memories you carry.

The flicker of the light blends in, the warmth pulls the two of you in, time feels gone, like it never existed, maybe nothing every existed except for the two of you sitting before each other.

A sudden crash, from the outside and the magic is gone with a snap.

Noticing your hands, you pull it back to your chest fast.

His goes back to his head and he looks away, anther shy smile on his face.

“What- How should we proceed next?” he breaks the silence first, attempting to gather back a sense of seriousness to his voice. In a way, he should too, this is technically business, isn’t it?

Glancing at your palm, you open and close it few times. Not a speck of pain is there.

“Once every week maybe? If that’s alright. Although we may cancel few weeks, you never know what comes up last minute.”

The dagger nowhere in sight, probably returned to a pocket of his already, he looks pleased with your reply. “Sounds good to me.”

Without further ado, you get up to look for the door you first walked in.

“Wait!-“ he follows in a hurry, almost slipping, again, and trying to find something in his jacket.

Go you! For forgetting why you agreed to a vampire’s house in the first place. “Is- uh- is this alright? Or is it so little? We never discussed payment, y’know.” He holds out a lot more than you expected, but then again, vampires live for thousands of years. He must have quite the amount lying around somewhere after all.

Unsure what to do with the money he slips into your hand, you meet his eyes. “That’s… more than enough actually. Thanks.”

He rests one hand on hip, taking in your surprised face. “Don’t mention it. I’ve got plenty.” Touching your elbow lightly, he guides you to the door, dragging his feet. By the time you reach the door, he makes no move to open it, not that it was ever locked in the first place.

Turning of the knob, you take a step ahead, motions limited on both sides; dragging, waiting for something to happen, something to be said, for the air to be broken.

By the time you’re one foot outside, he clears his throat with a fake cough, covering his mouth. “Same time, same place, next week?” his gaze cast on the floor, stealing glances to see what you will do next.

You turn to him with a smile. “Works for me.” And tilt your head “but what if one of us cannot find the other?”

“Oh I’ll find you alright.” He chuckles with a grin. Truly a sight to sell the whole vampire image he got going, even if he hadn’t been one.

Feet standing next to each other, you’re out now, furrowing your eyebrows with a look of disapproval to match his grin, unimpressed.

“You sound like a creep. Don’t do it again.”

And with it, you turn your back to him, already on your way. The ginger left behind, an unfinished “okay” hanging on his lips, eyes focused on your form, swallowed by the shadows, waiting for the next night to be spent with you, already impatient.

[fanfic-she-wrote]

Imagine being the reincarnation of Dracula's long lost love: part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

"Aren't you eating?" You ask upon entering the dining room, noticing that there was only one place made up at the table.

"I'm afraid not my dear. But please don't let me stop you." Dracula said, pulling out your chair. You felt kind of awkward and guilty that he had to make these kind of accomodations for you. You thought back to the conversation you overheard earlier. Maybe if you were a vampire like Dracula this wouldn't be necessary?

"I'll be fine." He assured you, taking the seat across from you.

You looked down at the plate in front of you. Then you looked at Dracula, who didn't have anything, "What's wrong?" He asked.

You rose up from the table, walking over to him, rolling up your sleeve as you went. Dracula watched you curiously, not sure what you were doing.

"Here." You said, holding out your wrist.

"What?" He scoffed.

"You can have some...if you want?" Realizing what you meant, he refused.

"Y/N, no I couldn't."

"I know you need it." You insisted. He licked his lips, secretly wishing he could just have a taste...He couldn't deny that he craved it. He looked away and shut his eyes, practically hearing the blood coursing through your veins.

"Vlad, don't make me force you." You said.

"What do you mean?" He asked turning his head back to look at you.  You picked up a knife holding it just above your wrist.

"No!" Before he had a chance to stop you, you cut a small slit in your wrist making you wince in pain. You watched as Dracula's face began to change. It was almost instantaneous. His eyes glowed a bright red becoming wild with hunger. He watched with a pained expression as your blood trickled slowly down your wrist. He licked his lips again, fangs sticking out from behind them.

"You shouldn't have done that..." He told you shakily.

"I wanted to. " You told him, holding your wrist closer to him. He swallowed hard. How delicious your blood smelled. Perhaps just a little taste wouldn't hurt... He reached out and gently grabbing your hand, hovering it just below his lips, hesitating for a moment.

"Do it." You said, taking a deep breath preparing yourself. He ran his tongue over the opening in your wrist, making you shiver. Then he pressed his mouth against it, and began sucking at it. Slowly you could feel your life source being drained away. You started to feel light headed the more he drank. It was so good....so delicious.....

"Vlad, I don't feel so well..." You said in a faint voice. Unable to stand any longer you fell to your knees.

"Vlad stop." You pleaded trying to pull your wrist away, but he held you firmly in his grasp. He watched you in horror knowing that he was slowly killing you, but he just couldnt stop.

Suddenly, the doors flung open and Henry and Van Helsing ran in. "Dracula!" Lawrence shouted pulling him away from you and shoving him into a wall while Henry caught you, preventing you from falling the rest of the way to the floor.

"What happened?!" Van Helsing asked, running to your side. He looked at your wrist and saw the fresh cut, shocked that there were no bite marks. "I cut myself. I didn't want him to go without not when I can provide what he needs." You said, your voice faint as you strained to breathe.

"You foolish girl!" Van Helsing yelled. "He could have killed you...He was killing you."

Henry picked you up and helped you into a chair. He handed you a napkin and told you, "Put that on it and I'll be right back."

"Good thing I came when I did." Van Helsing said.

"Or who knows what might have happened."

"And for that I am grateful." Dracula said, walking towards you.

"What?" Lawrence asked, not sure he heard the Count right. Dracula was just as surprised. Never in his immortal life did he think would be grateful to see Van Helsing.

Henry returned a few moments later with some bandages and a basin of water. "You're going to look like a mummy if you keep this up." He joked, trying to lighten the mood. You let out a faint laugh.

"I'll take care of it." Lawrence said, taking off his coat, tossing it on a chair. He pushed Henry aside, bending down in front of you, and started cleaning your wound.

"What are you doing here Lawrence?" You ask, trying to remain conscious.

"I came to see you. I had to see if you were...safe." Dracula flinched, knowing what he meant. He had every reason to, but it still stung.

"I'm fine Lawrence." He looked at you an eyebrow slightly raised.

"Well I was fine until now...but this was my fault not Vlad's." You said, defending Dracula. Van Helsing sighed. After what just happened you were still in love with him.

After a few minutes, Van Helsing finished cleaning up your wound and bandaging it. Dracula gently picked up your wrist and placed a quick kiss on it. "I'm sorry." He spoke.

"No, you have nothing to be sorry for. I shouldn't have put you in that position. I'm sorry." You apologized, pressing your forehead against his.

"Don't do that again. I don't want to lose you." Dracula said, holding you close.

"Alright. I promise." You agreed, sealing it with a kiss.

Lawrence watched the two of you quietly, trying to determine how he felt about this. Dracula looked over his shoulder at him, still holding you. "Thank you Doctor Van Helsing." He said, sounding genuinely grateful. "Oh um..." He didn't know what to say. 

"I guess I should be going." Van Helsing said, backing out of the room.

"Lawrence?" You looked over at him, confused.

"I can see that what you two share is true." He told you. "I just didn't believe it until now." He glanced at Dracula, there was an unspoken understanding between them. He turned to leave when suddenly, shouting and screams could be heard emanating from outside.

"What's that?" You ask, looking around. Dracula let you go, and he and Van Helsing ran over the window. Below hundreds of towns people approached the castle with torches ablaze and wooden stakes.

"You brought them here didn't you?!" Dracula hissed at Van Helsing.

Lawrence shook his head and backed away." No I didn't! I don't know why--" He stopped himself suddenly remembering the man from the bar. "Oh no..."

"What do we do?" You asked, reaching out for Dracula. He held you in his arms, trying to comfort you as Van Helsing ran out the door and approached the crowd, holding his hands up. "Stop! Don't do this!" He shouted.

"We have to! We're not going to put up with this anymore!" The drunken man from earlier shouted.

"No, no! Listen! He's changed. I've seen it for myself."

"Get out of the way, mister!" Another man ordered. "We came here to kill the monster and that's what we're gonna do!" The crowd cheered from behind him.

"You're making a mistake!" Van Helsing insisted, but they didn't listen. They shoved him aside and charged forward.

You turned to Dracula. "We've got to get you out of here." You said, your voice panicked.

"I'm not leaving without you." He said, holding your hands tightly within his own.

"Vlad, listen to me. If they catch you they'll kill you." You told him. You could hear the mob getting closer.

"Go now!"  You urged him. Dracula pulled you close and placed a hard quick kiss upon your lips, never wanting to let you go.

"I'll find you." He promised.

"I know." Tears streamed down your face. The shouts were getting even louder now.

"Go!" You cried, pushing him away. Dracula looked at you one last time, not sure when he'd be able to see you again, before taking off. He ran through the entryway just as the crowd pushed through. "There he is!" One of them shouted. He ran up the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him. "Get him!" Another shouted.

You ran out of the dining room. "Stop! You don't know what you're doing!" You screamed, but they didn't seem to hear you. You chased after them, trying to stop them. When you realized there was no reasoning with them you started flinging furniture at them. You still felt weak, but you weren't going to give up.

"Stop her!" Earl, the man from the pub ordered. Just as you were about to hurl a vase at someone, hands grabbed you from behind.

"I've got the girl!" He shouted as you struggled to get away.

"Let me go!" You demanded, lashing out at your captor as he dragged you outside.

"I'll take her." Van Helsing said. The man nodded and  shoved you into his arms before going back inside.

"How could you do this?! They're going to kill him! I thought you were my friend..." You sobbed.

"Y/N, please. I never intended for this to happen. Please believe me." He pleaded.

Over your shoulder he saw flames emanating from one of the rooms. You turned around to see what he was looking at and gasped.

"I've got to go help him." You said, turning back towards the castle.

"No don't go in there!" Van Helsing said, grabbing your arm.

"I'm not just going to stand around while they try to kill him!" Van Helsing tried to discourage you but you paid him no mind as you bolted back inside.

Most of the mob had already moved upstairs while some stragglers ransacked the drawing room and dining room. You ran up the stairs quickly catching up to them. You realized that they had already been to the armory and had taken several of the weapons. With no other alternative, you charged at one of them knocking him to the ground, kicking him in the head rendering him unconscious, and taking the sword he was carrying.

You pushed past the mob, swiping at as many as you could trying to get to Dracula.

Finally when you reached the roof and your eyes fell upon Dracula standing there, the mob pushing him closer to the edge. "Vlad!" You called out. He found you in the crowd and locked eyes with you.

"We got him now!" Earl hollered, enciting roars from the mob behind him. You ran to Dracula's side, holding you sword before you ready to fight.

"She's under his spell." Earl told the crowd. "Kill her too!" The crowd advanced upon you and Dracula. Dracula stood in front of you, protecting you. He hissed at the mob, his eyes a deathly blood red.

Suddenly, you heard something strange. At first you couldn't tell what it was but as the sound got closer you realized it sounded like wings flapping, several wings flapping. Just as the crowd was about to attack you saw a black mass swoop down over your head. The mob screamed in horror as several large bats attacked them, pulling at their eyes and flesh.

"C'mon!" You said, grabbing Dracula's hand and pulling him through the crowd. They were so busy fighting of the army of bats that they hadn't even noticed you and Dracula escape. As you ran back down the stairs, you saw the flames had practically engulfed most of the entryway. From behind you, you heard a couple of men chasing after you somehow managing to get away from the bats.

One of them lunged at Dracula but he grabbed them by the wrist and flung him off the side of the stairs into the flames below.

The last one, held a large wooden cross before him in one hand and carried a stake in the other. Dracula backed away, covering his eyes trying not to look at the cross, but you weren't affected. You leapt at the man, knocking him backwards on the steps wrestling the cross from him. It all happened so fast. You almost didn't realize what had happened if it had not been for the sharp searing pain you felt in your chest. You looked down and saw that the stake had pierced right through you.

"No!!" Dracula cried. With every last bit of strength you had left, you pried the cross from his grasp and tossed it away.

Dracula approached the man, his eyes angrier than you had ever seen them before. He lifted him up by his throat, holding him high in the air. He gasped for breath as Dracula choked every ounce of life from his body. He wanted to tear this man to shreds for what he had done. Finally when the man became limp Dracula threw him into the fire.

Then he turned around and picked you up, carrying you out of the castle. Everything was silent, except for the fire crackling in the distance as it slowly destroyed the castle. There were no screams, just silence.

He gently placed you down on the lawn, holding you in his arms. Blood dripped down the side of your mouth. "No, no, no." Dracula whimpered. Van Helsing ran over, his heart skipping a beat once he caught sight of you. "Oh no."

"I'm sorry, Vlad..." You breathed.

"No, don't be sorry. Everything will be alright. We're safe now" Dracula stammered, pushing the hair out of your face. You were struggling for breath and your body was slowly becoming numb. You were dying. 

"I love you." You said in barely more than a whisper, placing your hand on his cheek. "Don't leave me...please." Dracula begged, tears falling from his eyes. He couldn't believe this was happening again.

"Do something!" Van Helsing shouted desperately. Dracula looked up at him. "You can save her. Do it!" He looked back at you, the life slowly fading from your eyes.

"I can't." He refused.

"You must! Dracula, please! She's going to die!" Van Helsing implored. He didn't want to lose you either and if that meant you would become a vampire then so be it.

"Forgive me." Dracula said, giving you a quick kiss. He pulled the stake from you chest. You were so close to death, you barely even flinched. Van Helsing held his breath.  Then suddenly Dracula plunged his fangs deep into your neck. Van Helsing just hoped that this would work...

[l-egionaire]

Owl House Fanfiction: I love The Found Family Trope!

Posted on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29417493

Eda had gotten used to a lot of different ways of waking up after her getting her curse.

The first few times it happened, she'd unfortunately routinely woken up to find herself naked. (Titan, was she grateful when she'd finally found a spell that made her clothes change with her and didn't have to keep dumpster diving or "borrowing" clothes)

Once that was taken care of, her post transformation wake ups were slightly more comfortable, if predictable. She'd come too laying on the ground, her body's usual aches, pains, and stiffness seemingly doubled to the point where she could barely move. If she was in someone's house she'd likely be surrounded by overturned furniture and fixtures all covered in claw and bite marks. If she was lucky any people that might've been there would've already run and hid. If she wasn't….well, she knew a good amount of healing magic and potions.  No matter how much damage she might have caused, most people wouldn't turn down having their injuries taken care of.

And after that, things changed. Even if the person she was living with didn't kick her out, she could still see how they acted differently. They avoided eye contact with her, didn't stay in the same room with her for longer than two seconds, and she couldn't help but notice how they always seemed to lock their doors at night, nevermind whether she'd taken her elixir or not. Needless to say, when that happened she was gone before a week even passed. Someone being afraid of her or thinking she was a freak she could handle. But she preferred that to them tiptoeing around it and pretending to be okay with her when they were secretly scared. 

Considering all of that, waking up safely in her nest with a bottle of elixir in her mouth was a new experience.

She wasn't that shocked once she'd gotten the whole story. She'd never explained what her elixir did to King, and Luz thinking it was some special magic boosting potion sounded just like her. But what really surprised her were their reactions. 

After making sure Hooty was put back up and okay, they'd come by to check on her. Luz, having worried she might not be feeling well, had brought her a bowl of some strange human concoction called "chicken soup" that she'd gotten from a can in her junk collection. ("It's no magic potion but my mom. always made me chicken soup when I wasn't feeling well.) She'd also gotten her a person sized pillow that had the image of some male human character with spiky hair on it and with a little work slid it beneath Eda in her nest. The thing may have looked weird but it was comfy as heck and felt great for her sore back. Meanwhile King, still looking regretful about snatching her elixir, had fixed her a mug of apple blood as a peace offering.

While the mixture of alcohol and salty human bird water helped soothe some of her pain, Eda couldn't help but notice her apprentice and her housemate still standing off to the side of her nest. Both of them simply stood and watched as she ate and drank, staying oddly silent and staring at her as if she might disappear mid slurp.

It was almost a little unnerving. She hadn't expected either of them to be this quiet after discovering her curse. She figured Luz would've had her usual million questions about anything magical while King would be demanding to know why she hadn't told him before now. 

Then again, it wouldn't surprise her if they were still too in shock. After all, while she had never been able to witness it herself, she knew her cursed form could be pretty terrifying to see. One person she'd lived with had been so freaked out by it, he hadn't been able to make any noise except terrified squeaks for 3 days.

Plus, the way they found out was pretty sudden. Sure, King shouldn't have stolen her elixir but it wasn't like he knew what it was for or why she took it. In fact, a part of her hoped he'd never find out.

But the cat was off the staff now. She knew that the two of them must still be curious, otherwise they wouldn't still be there. So it was time to witch up and deal with it.

Eda drank the last few dregs of soup from her bowl and drained the rest of her apple blood for a little courage before turning to King and Luz.

"Alright you two. I know you probably want to know more about all this. So, let's have it."

Luz and King took a moment to look at each other, almost seeming to have a full conversation in two seconds before turning back to her.

"No thanks." Luz said.

"Yeah, we're good." King agreed.

Eda blinked in confusion. "What? What do you mean?"

"We don't need to know anymore." Luz explained. "This whole curse thing seems kind of personal and besides you already told us all the important parts. So we don't need to know anything else."

Eda stared at her in stunned silence. She looked to King and was even more surprised to see him nod in agreement.

To say this was not what she'd been expecting would be an understatement.  Where was the yelling at her for putting them in danger? The demanding answers? The blaming her for not telling them about her curse before all this? Heck, the two of them didn't even look that upset. They just still had those weirdly concerned looks on their faces. Maybe they just worried she'd still be mad about them stealing her elixir and were too scared to bring it up.

But that brought another issue to mind. And while she might have become pretty fond of those two, she knew it would only be a matter of time until it came up.

Ignoring the tight feeling in her chest, Eda said slowly. "Listen…..if you guys want to find somewhere else to stay, I understand."

They both became bug eyed.

"What?!" Luz cried.

"What are you talking about?!" King asked.

Eda looked away from them, doing everything she could to keep the wetness in her eyes from turning into full blown tears.

Suck it up. She thought. It's not like you haven't done this before.

"Luz, you could probably see if one of those Hexside kids might be willing to let you stay with them, and King I-."

"You're kicking us out?!" Luz yelled.

"No!" King scrambled into the nest, got onto his knees  and clasped his paws together. "Please Eda, don't!  I'll never be able to find anyone else willing to  let me live with them without paying! If this is about stealing the elixir, I'm sorry! I swear I won't steal anything you don't tell me to!" 

Eda frowned in confusion and turned back to them. "What? No. I mean, yes King, if you steal from me again I'll turn you into a tiny fur rug, but I just meant….you guys really don't want to move out?"

They both looked shocked at her question. "No." "Why would we?"

"Why would- how about  because I could have killed you two last night?" She felt bile begin to build in her throat and not the magical kind. "I could have eaten one of you like I did the snaggleback!"

"Oh come on Eda, it wasn't that-."

"Luz." Eda said, her voice hard. She didn't have it in her right now to deal with Luz sunshine attitude.

Luz must have noticed because she sighed and said. "Okay, look Eda. I'm not going to lie and say that today wasn't terrifying or that I wasn't afraid but….Eda, once I realized that the monster that was chasing after us was you? All I could think about was how I could help or what I could do to get you back. I didn't want to lose you."

Eda stared at her apprentice in complete shock. In her past talks with her living mates after they discovered her curse, they always talked about them . Their safety, their terror at her transformation, their discomfort at having Eda stay around after what happened. But Luz was thinking about her and whether she was okay.

It felt….weird. But in a good way. Kind of like a lot of things Luz did come to think of it.

Eda looked down to where King was still sitting in her nest. "And what about you King? You aren't freaked out by my little secret?"

King shrugged. "Eh, at first it was horrifying but after thinking about, its actually pretty cool. You're a demon just like me! Which technically makes you one of my subjects!"

Eda rolled her eyes. Typical King.

"And, since you are one of my subjects…."

"King, I swear to Titan, if you-."

".....than, that also means you fall under my protection." King finished. He walked over to Eda, climbed into her lap where he curled up into a ball. "If anyone wants to hurt you, they'll first have to go through me!"

Eda couldn't hide the amazement on her face as she gazed down at King. Then she felt something softly touch her shoulder. She looked over and saw Luz had placed a hand on her and was giving her a loving look.

"We're not going anywhere Eda. Us weirdos have to stick together, remember?"

Eda couldn't believe what she was hearing. Even after they both spent the night being terrorized by her and knew about her curse, they still insisted on sticking around.

They weren't going to leave her.

Luz suddenly frowned and looked at her worriedly. "Hey, what's wrong?"

It took Eda a moment to realize that there was a tear streaming down her face. She quickly wiped it away.

"Uh, no Luz, I just, uh, really loved that soup you brought me. There any chance there's some more?"

"I'll go dig through trash for another can!" Luz excitedly sprinted out the door.

Eda looked down at King. "Would my so-called "King" be willing to fix his new subject another apple blood?"

King stood up from her lap and stretched. "I suppose its what any humble ruler would do for his wounded subject." King took her mug and scrambled out of her nest and out the door.

Eda sighed fondly and layed back on her spiky hair human pillow, taking in the sight of the many light orbs that now dotted her ceiling thanks to her apprentice.

We're not going anywhere Eda.

If anyone wants to hurt you, they'll first have to go through me

Eda chuckled. "Thanks you two

[bluejaytaco]

What up? it DND wit Jay!

(We return to the realm where we are standing in front of a giant gold gate. There's a dwarf standing in front of it with a clip board in their hand, just flipping through.)

Alabaster: (walks up) H-Hail and well met, my friend.

Dwarf: Names?

Alabaster: Oh! Um, I'm fine.

Dwarf, flipping through his clipboard: Fine.... Fine.... Nope, not seeing any "fine" here.

Art: (Walks up)....What about Ebony?

Dwarf, flipping through: Uh, yeah. We got an "ebony".... He's an orc. And considering none of you are Orcs, I doubt any of you are Ebony.

Art: Uh, that's racist.

Theodora:... Quite a detailed guest list...

Koejin: (Walks up and points at a random name) That's me.

Dwarf, looks down at the name: Your Grenadine Ceriph? High priestess in Calor? (Context: Calor is a Tiefling city. Koejin is human... well... was)

Koejin: Yeah, that's me.

Dwarf, getting sick of us: Look, I don't have tie for you people messing... (looks up at Koejin and goes silent).... You're not supposed to be here. This isn't your realm.

Koejin: Uhhh... Well, I have business with the man in charge.

Dwarf: I'm gonna have to call Pelor.

The entire group: (various ways of saying, "You do that" From "yes, please do" to "yeah, get that fucking bitch here! I wanna speak to the manager!")

Dwarf, mumbling into a sending stone before looking back at us: Is one of you named Theodora?

Theodora: Uhh.... Yeah.

Dwarf: You guys can go in. That's all I needed because now I know your names. But thanks for lying to me!

(The gates open and we all walk through. It's less blinding, but only slightly less on the other side of the gate. We see people walking around and just enjoying their afterlife. In the far off distance, there is a silhouette of a giant castle. We can also see the opening to a large garden where Pelor is standing with his arms crossed. Some of us see Alabaster's daughter, Eris, stomping on the flowers.)

Pelor, voice booming towards us: Everyone, front and center!

(All of us go with different levels of reluctance. Hennessy leads the way while Art and Jaquine kinda trail back.)

Pelor: So, what is it you need from me? (He's still standing over us while Eris continues to stamp through the flowers.)

(For a moment, we're all silent.)

Theodora: We want to speak to Thia.

Pelor: Thia is not in a place to speak. She is in my castle now, practicing her abilities for the Cleanse.

Hennessy: Is she okay? You don't have her locked up somewhere, hurt, right?

Pelor: Hennessy, my dear boy. Would you lock up a tiger in a small cage? No, you would respect the animal. Thia is in a place of comfort and has free reign.

Hennessy: She's got free reign? So she can go smoke in every room of the castle?! Even your room?!

Pelor: uhh....yes...

Hennessy: Ohh that just won't do. That smell of recreational drugs gets into the fibers and it can be a bitch to get out.

Pelor, suddenly giving off the impression he would like to hurry this along so he could go clean: It doesn't matter. She is my key to cleansing the world and making it all light. And I can save you all, if you kneel before me and accept me as your true god.

(No one kneels but Hennessy does raise an eyebrow at the "kneel" comment.)

Koejin: So how do you promise our safety.

Pelor: Well, you are excluded from this. Your friends, however, are protected because my followers will all survive.

Art: Don't you need the dark to have the light?

Pelor:... You would think that. Ticket Master would have you think that. And you, specifically, reek of him.

Art: Uh, rude?

Pelor: You know what he wants, don't you? He wants me dead so he can be the god of light. His best friend being the god of darkness would mean the two of them would take over everything. The two of them would rule all.

(Art was trying really hard to not say how he didn't see this as a bad thing, considering his bias. But somehow, as everyone was arguing against the cleanse, it was returned to the subject of Art and Ticket Master.)

Pelor: I think we've had quite enough of this talk.

Art: Yeah, let's stop talking about Ticket Master and the guy who may or may not have had sex with him.

(Pelor reacted in disgust which just turned into Art shouting "Sex with Ticket Master!" at the god of light. The tiefling was really aiming to make the god throw up.)

Koejin, joining in: There were definitely tentacles involved!

Art: Lots of tentacles! Sooooo many tentacles!!!

Pelor: Enough! All of you! (grabs Eris by the hair) If none of you will take this seriously, there is no longer a reason to speak with you.

Eris, punching at the hand: Let go! (turns to Alabaster) Daddy! I don't wanna go!

(They walk through a wall made of marble that Hennessy tries to reach through to grab for Eris. He just barely pulls his hand back before the wall solidifies again and he loses his hand.)

Vincent, rushing up to Hennessy: What did you think you were doing?!

Hennessy: The girl didn't want to go with the man! And when the girl doesn't wanna go, you don't let her go!

Vincent: You're gonna make such a great dad!

(behind the garden and before the castle there was a massive labyrinth. We walked up to see two different entrances. Koejin ends up smelling something familiar but can't really pick where it's coming from.)

Art: Hmmm (turns to Red) think you can turn into a dragon and fly up? maybe we can see where to go.

Red, not all that enthused by the idea: Uhh, yeah, I guess. Step back.

(Everyone stands back to give her enough room to transform. She flies up to the edge of the maze, but once her talons hit the edge, they shoot up another hundred feet and knock her back down.)

Red, turns back into her base form and glares at everyone: Well, that didn't help!

Art: (shrugging) well, my plans aren't ever without fault.

(Hennessy casts detect magic and, aside from nearly having his brain explode from all the god magic around, he discovers on direction is dark magic while the other is light.

We end up going towards the dark side because we figure that's where Thia might be hiding.)

(First stop is a room with a sword in a stone. Hennessy can sense that the magic is dark, but it isn't the source.)

Koejin: (climbs up and pulls the sword from the stone and holds it up in the air. She then hears the sounds of us screaming in agony.)

What we see: Koejin pulling the sword out and standing with it like she's posing.

Art: Uhhh.... what is happening?

Theodora: Koejin? You okay?

Koejin vision! Art: (melting away and falling apart) You killed us!!!!

Koejin vision! Theodora: (Also melting) You let us dieeeee!!!!

Koejin, turning to see all this: No! No, I saved Art's life so many times! (Turns to Theodora) I'm sorry! I'm sorry!

Art: Koejin.... we're fine!

Koejin: (runs up to start trying to put Art's face back together. To everyone else, she'd just smooshing his face while still holding the sword.)

Theodora: (dispels the magic from the sword and a little imp pops free)

Koejin: (can now see that everyone's okay and it still just kinda groping Art's face.)

Art:....uh, Koejin?

Koejin: Yeah.... sorry. You were melting just now.

(We talk to the little imp briefly to find that he is a prisoner in the maze. He asks if he's free to go but as soon as he does, he's struck by lightning.)

(We continue down the path for a little bit before Koejin figures out that we're going the wrong way because she can no longer smell the "smelly smell that smells." In that time, Hennessy incinerated some talking furniture which the DM disappointedly let us know that we wouldn't be seeing the IKEA Lich. I have a feeling the IKEA Lich might pop up in a future one shot.

But also, we got this exchange.)

Theodora: (casts a spell in attempt to sober Koejin.)

Koejin: (starts screaming as her skin starts to burn) Stop!

Theodora: (stops immediately) I... I was just trying to help..

Koejin: I'm the God of intemperance, Theodora! You can't just sober me up!

Theodora: What?!

(This starts into a fight about how this isn't the weirdest thing we've been through while she continues to talk about how she wasn't expecting to hear her daughter was a god.)

Red: If I may, I can see where Theodora is coming from here. Be it the weirdest thing or not, finding out your child is involved in some affair with the gods can be surprising. (Shoots a look at Art) Like your son being intimately involved with a tentacle monster god.

Art:.... you weren't supposed to know about that....

Red: You were shouting about it just before while I was standing there.

Art:... right..... forgot you were there....

Red: Either way; something for us to talk about later, Sweetie.

Art rolling his eyes, sarcastically: But Mother, I love him.

((Koejin's Player: And I have to remember to write proper notes about what everyone knows and doesn't know.

DM: Eh, it's all out now))

(We head from the dark part to the light part and find ourselves walking down a hall for hours. It gets to the point where Mrs. Red starts to complain.)

Red: Ugh... when is this fucking thing going to end? Doesn't anyone have a way to move this along faster?

Art: It's going to feel like longer if you keep bitching.

Red: I don't even wanna be here!

Theodora: None of us want to be here!

Art, agreeing: Yeah, and yet, here we are! So, how about you shut your mouth for a bit while we figure out how to get home and make sure there's even a "home" to go back to!

Red:.... Actually, Art. Considering that, I think this might be a good time for you and I to talk....

(Art is pulled off to the side by Mrs. Red, Reita following. Theodora tries to usher everyone a respectful distance away to try and ensure privacy. She does her best, but pretty much everyone is still eavesdropping.)

Red: I know I haven't been the best mother... In fact, I might be the worst... But know that I will try to make this all better and I'm just looking for your forgiveness.

Art:.... you might remember us as a nice, happy little family, but let me tell you what I remember.

Koejin: You tell her, Art!

Art, ignoring her and pretending he doesn't know people are listening: ....you slicing off Reita's face, blowing up Thia's bar, threatening the lives of my friends, destroying the lives of countless different people; I could go on! You barely get to claim the title "mother!"

Red: I did what I thought was best!

Art: You entrusted your children to the God of Death and Deceit!

Red: I didn't do that! (long pause)....I did do that.

Art: Yeah, you did. So, this is how things are gonna go. We're going to go through here and make sure there's a world to get back to, we're going to go to Calor and you are going to fix this. Then we can talk about forgiveness.

Red: ....That's another thing I wanted to talk to you about. I would love... to return to our people. I know I'm a tiefling, but I still feel the rage... of a red dragon. Someone would need to take care of our people.

Art:.... the people that treated me like a pariah....

Vincent, butting in: Like Hell I'm gonna let that happen! (storms over to them and looks at Art) Look Art, I'm willing to admit you are not evil. But do you really think you can run Calor? As soon as everything gets hard you run away! Hell, you abandoned your own sister-

Reita, with a surprising amount of clarity: He didn't... abandon me. He thought I was dead.

(The remaining three tieflings turn and look at her.)

Reita: And you're not exactly one to talk; you created weapons for a tyrant and turned a blind eye to the problems in Calor. We've all done things we regret, but we learn and grow from them. How can you stand there and judge him from running from a bad situation when he was a kid? Hypocrite (shoves a slug into her mouth)

Art, smiling and a little misty-eyed: I'm so proud of you! (hugs Reita)

Reita: Uhhh, yeah. Sure.... (doesn't push him away, though)

Red:.... You're not supposed to be talking like that... how are you doing that?

Art, pulling away: Yeah, that was going to be the next part. You feeling okay?

Reita, shrugging: I feel good.... Like, really good.

Red: (grabs Reita and rips open the back of her cloak to see the stone in her spine is not glowing) This.... this isn't working. It should be working.

Art:....We should keep moving. Put a pin in this for now.

(We keep moving ahead with different twists and turns leading into random encounters. One of which is a growing garden gnome that we put Wreybar on top of so she could see over the walls. She tries to say what she sees, but speaks in a way only Wreybar understands.)

Theodora: Okay, but now how are we gonna get her down?

Red: I could probably fly up an-

Wreybar, jumping: Catch me!

Hennessy: (rushes to cast feather fall on her.)

(She floats down and lands nicely on the ground as we hear Thia's booming voice "Giant garden gnome? Goodbye giant garden gnome!" And the gnome just vanishes.)

(Wreybar starts talking in her gibberish and Koejin asks for a translator. Reita steps in and kneels down to her, nodding along by what she's saying.)

Reita: Wreybar says there's a latter coming out of a hole on the other side. It's right next to the castle. How do you guys not get that, she was speaking clearly.

Theodora: Maybe to you. Not all of us can speak Wreybar.

(We ended up getting into a few more shannanigans. At one point, Art attempted to use mislead in attempt to move through faster only to have Reita get impatient and run ahead. Art and Reita had a quick little spat about that along the lines of "by the time we find her, she'll have destroyed everything already!" "We can't find her at all if we're dead! No running ahead!" There was also a bit with Hennessy and Koejin teleporting out of the maze where they met a murder horse and a weird inky blob creature.

At that point the latter was the literally the next turn. But possibly the worst moment.)

DM: You guys come to a dead end. The smell is still coming from over it.

Koejin: Shit....

(We all check the wall to find no traps. But then... Alabaster touches it and a had grabs hold of him. It pulls itself out with his resistance and Alabaster is looking at a marble version of... himself.)

Alabaster: O-oh! Hail and well met... uh, me!

M! Alabaster: Oh! Hail and Well Met! How are you, my fine friend?

Alabaster: I'm quite well, thank you! How... who are you?

M! Alabaster: Oh, I am what remains of you. The you left behind when you left the Pelor faith!

Alabaster: Oh, I see.

M!Alabaster: Have you killed your daughter?

Alabaster: oh, no. That is.... no longer apart of the plan.

M! Alabaster: (grabs hold of Alabaster) I will do it then. I will kill your daughter. She is born of darkness, thus she must die!

(Everyone around him tenses up, but he somehow knows if he looks away, the creature will fade from his sight and go to kill Eris. He can only stare at it to hold it in place.)

Alabaster: (puts his hand to the copy's mouth and uses Create or Destroy Water)

M!Alabaster: (starts to crack and burst under the pressure. The amount of water forced inside kills the creature.)

((Create or destroy water has been a running gag in the campaign. It's been used a few times, but nothing really dark. Not like this.))

Alabaster:....(Still holding his marble copy with a stunned look.)

Art:....(walks up and pats him on the arm) You did what you had to do... Eris is safe now.

Theodora, nodding: Think of it as... you made the right choice.

Alabaster: (nods to both of them and closes the creatures eyes)

Koejin:.... we should destroy it. Just in case.

(They then proceed to break the thing into dust and we continued on our way.)

( We found the latter that brought us up to the castle. As we walk around to the entrance, Pelor stands by the door with his arms crossed.)

Pelor:.... what are you trying to accomplish here? Do you really think you can stop any of this?

Theodora: We're here to talk to Thia. Where's Thia?

Pelor, sighing: Look, last chance before I wipe you out of existence; kneel before me or leave my land and accept your fates.

Red, arms crossed(as is usual for her): Yeah, I'm not one for bowing to people. People bow to me.

Pelor: This goes for all for all of you?

(All of us agree. There will be no bowing.)

Pelor:....then so be it.

(Before he can move in to fight us, he is turned inside out and sucked into a little stone. Thia then drifts down, takes the stone, and crushes it.)

Art: ....hi, Thia....

Thia, glaring: Shut up, Art.

Art, nodding: Hmmm, mhm.

Thia: (turns to Theodora) Go home, Theodora.

(for a moment, her powers work on Theodora, but all of us stop her. This turns into a conversation about why the wipe is unnecessary. Koejin leads the conversation, then turned and asked for someone more "charisma based" to lead.

Art couldn't speak. Probably for the best. He and Thia have never really gotten along.)

Theodora: If you wipe out all existence, we won't be learning from our mistakes. Everything will end up being repeated! The war will be repeated!

Thia: Not if I don't allow free will.

Theodora: And then what is life? that's not a world; that's a simulation.

Thia:... better that than allowing a kid to grow up in the woods all alone.

Theodora:.... Thia, we can make this world better. Create a place where something like that doesn't happen. But this.... this isn't the way.

Thia:....Do all of you agree? Should I.... give up my power?

(This was a major turning point in the story. Because this is where the end boss was decided. And we told Thia to give up her power.)

Thia, nodding: Alright... let's go back home. No reason to strand ourselves here. (she opens a portal)

(We walk through to find ourselves in the tavern Thia owns. She wills away her power, but it's no big ta-do.)

Koejin: Did it work?

Thia:.... I don't know.... Art, give me some money.

Art:..... no....

Koejin: It worked!

(We all celebrate before we all notice the portal hasn't closed. When we turn and look, we see Pelor's face.... on Ticket Master's body. He throws it away like a mask and grins at us.)

Ticket Master: Guess who's the new God of Light? (smiles and waves as the portal closes)

(Outside, we hear loud banging. When we run out, we can see darkness and light bouncing off of each other before they begin to swirl and spread. They head for us.)

Theodora: (hears the voice of Bahamut and an open blue portal) Everyone! We have to go!

(Everyone dives into the portal. Art takes a moment before diving in with the group.)

(There will be one last session and we can all really feel it now. I'm kinda sad that Ticket Master is now the BBEG, but we all saw that coming. There's just a lot to figure out here.)

[annewritesfic]

Happy Endings Don’t Exist

this au is not dead!!!!!!!!!!!! wow!!!!!!!!!

it has been. a month. i am so sorry.

fun fact: i actually wrote this like a month ago but never actually posted this yes hellbrain is still suffering from writer’s block it’s not wonderful i am fine

uhhhhh word count: 2823

tw: oh god uh, mentions of guns/bullet holes, blood, tyrannical rulers, death, parent death, mentions of stabbing, mentions of hospital rooms, please tell me if i missed anything

Kate ran a hand over the smooth rock that the throne was carved from, relishing the silence. The throne room itself was a mess, furniture still strewn across the floor, marked with bullet holes, and it reeked of the cleaning supplies that had been used to scrub the blood from the floor. Kate’s blood, Levana’s blood, Farrah’s blood, Mattie’s blood… so much blood. But it was quiet and otherwise empty, so Kate had escaped there.

So many things had happened in this room. Kate shivered when they thought about it, about all the people who’d sat in this chair before her. Levana, most recently. Before her, Kate’s own mother. Channary and Levana’s parents, Kate’s grandparents.

Kate thought about Channary a lot. In one of the palace’s hallways, there was a line of holographic portraits of past kings and queens, names Kate didn’t want to know but that their system committed to memory anyway. At the end of the line was Channary Blackburn, and Kate had sat in front of her holographic portrait for an hour, staring at the face of her mother. A woman Kate had no memory of - she’d died just weeks before Kate’s first birthday. She’d been queen for just about two years before she’d died, leaving Levana as queen regent, and Kate’s system had put together an entire file in their head with all the articles and papers and history there was about Queen Channary. But the articles didn’t tell Kate as much as the people who remembered her did.

Queen Channary had died fifteen years ago, so there weren’t many people left who’d also worked under her, but Kate had asked to see everyone who had. There was Clark’s father, Garrison Winslett, a tall palace guard with a soft voice and kind eyes. He’d made Kate feel safe, but he’d refused to share many details, claiming Kate didn’t need to know.

“That’s in the past now, Your Highness,” he’d said. “You need only concern yourself with Luna’s future.”

Which, while that hadn’t told Kate any of the details that they’d been looking for, did say volumes about what kind of queen Channary had been.

As Kate met the rest of Channary’s former subjects, they learned more and more about her. When Kate was a kid, living with Adri, they’d used to spend the bad nights imagining what her mother would have been like before the hover crash she’d been told had killed their parents. She’d imagined a kind, loving woman, with a soft voice and a gentle smile, who’d loved Kate with her entire heart. Kate had imagined walking home from school and telling their mother about their day while she listened attentively, a hand stroking Kate’s hair as they walked together. Snowy days where Kate’s mother would take her sledding at a neighborhood park, then bring her home and wrap them in a blanket and tell stories until Kate fell asleep.

Sitting in that dark, abandoned hallway, face lit up by the gentle light from the hologram, Kate thought about those old daydreams and scoffed a little bit. That’s not who Channary was.

Channary was beautiful and cruel. She was impulsive and vain and saw being queen as a right, not a privilege, not a responsibility. She didn’t care much about improving Luna, about helping the citizens she was sworn to protect. Instead, she threw dozens of lavish parties and flirted with just about every man that entered the palace and left most of the important decisions to the thaumaturges and to her younger sister, Princess Levana.

Honestly, it wasn’t a surprise that Levana had so easily won over the Lunar population. While she was terrifying, murderous, and corrupt, at least at the beginning she’d been dedicated to the job and did help grow Luna’s economy, which was probably a relief after Channary’s lazy, unproductive, brief rule.

Kate had sat alone in the hallway with the smiling image of her mother for exactly an hour, seven minutes, and eighteen seconds, according to their internal clock, before Eva appeared around the corner, calling Kate’s name. Kate glanced up at her, then looked back at Channary, and didn’t watch Eva while she came and sat next to them on the cold marble floor.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Eva asked softly.

Kate didn’t touch her - normally, she was comforting, but Kate couldn’t handle being touched right now. “My mom.”

They didn’t speak for a moment.

“She was a really terrible queen,” Kate murmured eventually. “And a shitty person.”

“I read up a little on her, when I was on the Rampion with you guys,” Eva said softly. “I just… I knew a bunch about your aunt, but not about her, so…”

“I almost did. I was too scared, though.” Kate thought for a moment, then dryly laughed. “I had reason to be scared. She fucking sucked.”

“She sort of did,” Eva agreed.

They were quiet for a few more minutes.

“She looks a lot like me, doesn’t she?” Kate asked softly. “But, like… a thousand times more beautiful.”

“She looks like…” Eva hesitated. “Your glamour. At the ball. When you fell and your glamour came up… you looked like that. Almost exactly.”

“Oh.” Kate hugged their knees, a headache pulsing behind her eyes.

They sat awkwardly in silence for a while, before eventually Kate couldn’t take it anymore. “Can we go?”

Eva let Kate help her to her feet. “Let’s go.”

That was yesterday. Now, Kate sat in the throne room, Luna’s artificial night darkening the corners, a crescent Earth visible in the dark sky beyond the protective dome. Sitting on the throne made Kate think of Channary, wonder how many meetings they’d attended as a baby, but this was also the room where Levana had finally been dethroned.

Those last few minutes were sort of a blur. Kate remembered firing the gun, remembered Levana pretending to surrender, and then there was just a flash of pain through their chest, and warnings flashing across her vision, and Eva screaming, and then… nothing. Waking up in that small, white, sterile room with a stranger bent over her left hand and Eva holding their right.

But Kate was told what happened. That Levana died and Kate didn’t. And Queen Selene finally took her throne.

Kate leaned her head back against the hard marble throne and breathed a shaky sigh.

“I thought you’d be in here,” said a familiar voice. Kate didn’t open their eyes but smiled. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Kate tapped their human fingers against the arm of the throne. “Just… wanted to be alone. Did you know that when you’re a queen, it’s surprisingly hard to find alone time?”

“Crazy,” Eva said flatly. “I never would’ve thought.”

Kate scrunched her nose, eyes still closed. “I mean, I get it. There’s a lot to be done, a lot I’m responsible for fixing, but… I just needed a minute. So I’m hiding.”

Eva laughed a little and walked into the room, her footsteps echoing off the walls. Kate finally looked at her, taking her in, her gentle smile and soft eyes, one hand behind her back. “A hoodie makes a pretty good disguise, you know. Wanna borrow mine?”

“Ugh, please.” Kate tucked their legs up, curling up on the throne. “Did you bring it with you?”

“I did, actually.” Eva shrugged. “It’s, like, a comfort object at this point.” She turned to look out the window, at the view Kate was staring at. “It’s so weird to see Earth where I feel like the moon should be.”

“It’s beautiful.” Kate leaned their head against the chair again, smiling softly when Eva turned back to look at her.

Eva bit her lip. “I have to tell you something.”

Kate’s smile faded. “You’re leaving.”

“Not now. But yeah, I am.” Eva scuffed the floor with her shoe. “My ship is supposed to leave the port in about 46 hours.”

Less than two days.

Kate looked away, at a crack in the wall. Mattie, Farrah, Chess, and Cairo had left yesterday. About a week from now, Annleigh and Clark would leave for their first ambassadorial mission to Earth. And now Eva was leaving, and Kate (and Reese, they supposed) would be left alone.

“I don’t want you to go,” she whispered, angry at how small and pathetic it sounded. “I mean, I know you have to, and you have your own country to worry about, but…”

“I know.” Eva’s voice was gentle and understanding. “I don’t- I’m not looking forward to being so far away from you, but I have to.”

“Sometimes I forget, you know?” Kate admitted. “That we’re… you know. Monarchs. Revolutionaries. Whatever. Like, people know us, know our names, and we’re responsible for them, but it’s hard to remember that sometimes. You’re just… you. You’re just Eva, you’re my girlfriend and you’re dorky and sweet and awkward and I love you, a lot, and I really like it when the world is just you and me.”

“Me, too.” Eva sighed. “Maybe- maybe you should come and visit soon? It could be, like, symbolic of the new alliance, or I could make up some sort of political crisis…?”

Kate smiled. “We’d never pull it off.”

“We could try.”

Kate laughed a little, and Eva did too, and for a second, things were better again, but then the reality crashed right back into Kate like a wave. “I’m going to miss you. So much.”

“Being a queen might not leave much time for being lonely.”

“I doubt that.” Kate suddenly felt awkward sitting on the throne, and stood up, coming to stand beside Eva, close enough to touch - but not quite touching, not yet. Two more days just… wasn’t enough time. Kate wanted more - wanted Eva every damn minute of every day. Wanted to hold her close and never let go. Wanted to grab her and drag her onto a ship and just leave, live forever in the stars, just the two of them.

But they couldn’t.

“You know,” Eva said thoughtfully, slipping her hand into Kate’s, “I spent so long avoiding a marriage alliance with Luna. But now, when it’s no longer necessary, it doesn’t seem so bad anymore.”

Kate lightly nudged her. “Stop that.”

“It’s a shame you can’t blush.” Eva leaned over and brushed a light kiss against Kate’s temple. “I’m not saying I didn’t mean it, though.”

Kate bit their lip and rolled her eyes.

“I have something for you.”

“I swear to fuck, it had better not be an engagement ring,” Kate threatened.

Eva grinned mischieviously and stepped back, kneeling on one knee.

Kate crossed their arms, tamping down the flutter in her stomach. “Eva-”

“I’ve been waiting a long time to give this to you.”

“Eva, wait-”

Eva pulled her hand from behind her back, revealing a small metal foot. A cluster of wires stuck up from the cavity, and the whole thing had smudges of grease.

“I hate you,” Kate muttered.

“Are you, like, disappointed?” Eva asked. “Because if you want, I bet Luna has some great jewelry stores-”

“Shut up.” Kate took the cyborg foot from her, studying it. It was so familiar, yet so foreign. “Why the hell do you even have this?”

“I don’t know, really. I kinda wondered…” Eva went a little bit pink. “I thought maybe if I could find the cyborg who fit this foot, it would be a sign we were meant for each other? But then I realized it would probably only fit an eight-year-old.”

“Eleven.”

“Close enough.” She bit her lip. “But really, I just… it was all I had when I thought you were- when I thought I’d never see you again. I couldn’t let you go that easily.”

Kate studied it for another moment, then glanced up at Eva, one eyebrow raised. “Why are you still kneeling?”

“You’ll have to get used to people kneeling to you. Happens a lot when you’re royalty,” Eva said, standing up.

Kate reached for her hand. “Maybe I should make a rule that the proper way to address your monarch is with a high-five.”

“Genius. I’m gonna do that too.”

Kate stepped closer, just an inch from Eva’s face. “Maybe I’ll also make a rule that the proper way for the queen of Luna to greet the empress of the Eastern Commonwealth is a kiss.”

“Even better.” Eva kissed them, and Kate reveled in it, in the feeling of finally, unapologetically loving Eva the way she wanted to love her, and being loved back just as much. “Although,” Eva murmured as they broke apart, “I doubt it’d be relevant in a hundred years or so. Might be a bit awkward.”

“Actually, about that…” Kate led Eva to the edge of the room and sat down, both of them dangling their legs over the edge of the balcony, over Artemisia Lake. “Can I ask your opinion on something?”

“Anything.”

“I think…” Kate took a deep breath. “I want to dissolve the Lunar monarchy.”

Eva didn’t react with horror or surprise, just smiled and put an arm around Kate and said, “When?”

“Not now. That’s too much of a change, too soon after… you know.” Kate leaned into Eva’s side. “But once things have settled down, started getting better. When I think Luna can handle a change in power. As soon as possible. I don’t- I can’t risk another Levana.” They hesitated. “Or another Channary.”

Eva pressed a kiss into her hair. “It won’t be easy. The people will be pissed. And they have that whole superstition. But you’re right. Luna needs a checks and balances system.”

Kate breathed a sigh of relief and snuggled even closer. “Okay. Thank you.”

“So what are you planning to do after you abdicate?”

Kate blinked. “Oh- I guess I hadn’t really thought that far ahead? Maybe Farrah would want a full time mechanic.”

“Or…” Eva rubbed Kate’s shoulder. “You could come stay in the Eastern Commonwealth as an ambassador. A show of good faith. Prove Luna and Earth can work together, side by side.”

“And be with you?”

“And be with me,” Eva agreed.

Kate considered it. “I think the Eastern Commonwealth hates me.”

“Hates you? You saved them from Levana. I think there’s a toy company that wants to make action figures of you, and Torin just showed me an article suggesting a statue where your booth used to be at the market.”

Kate shuddered.

Eva smiled and kissed the spot right next to Kate’s eye. “I promise, if you decide to come back, you’ll be welcomed with open arms.” She pressed her lips against Kate’s hair. “And if you want to come to the Annual Peace Ball next year, you’ll have hundreds of people begging to take you.”

“Oh, God.”

“I thought I might as well get my name on the list now. Maybe I’ll even have time to teach you to dance.”

Kate tried not to smile.

“Please say yes?”

Kate pretended to consider it. “Do I have to wear a dress?”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“Maybe I’ll come in cargo pants.”

“I’d be so okay with that.”

Kate made a little humming noise. “Can I bring my friends?”

“Absolutely. I’ll extend a personal invitation to the entire crew.”

“Even Reese? Because there’s a rule against androids coming to the ball.”

“I might know someone who can change that rule.”

Kate couldn’t resist a smile. Going back to the ball, facing all those people who’d so openly hated them for years, should’ve sounded terrifying, but the idea of doing it with Eva sounded perfect. “Yes, I’ll go to the ball with you.”

“What about those dance lessons?”

“Mm, I wouldn’t push your luck if I were you.”

“Fair enough.” They kissed again, and Kate sighed against Eva’s lips, tired but happy.

Eva pulled away eventually and pressed her forehead against Kate’s. “Katie, I know- you’re a great ruler already. You’ll be even better till you abdicate. But… I know you never really wanted this.”

Kate chose to stay quiet.

“But… maybe, one day… would you consider being an empress?”

The silence hung in the air, but wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable.

“Maybe,” Kate eventually assented. “One day.”

Maybe meant yes, and both of them knew it.

Eva was right - Kate didn’t want to be a ruler. Didn’t want to be in that position of power, making real decisions that impacted real people. But Kate did want Eva, more than anything, and Eva came with an entire country, whether or not Kate liked it. And Eva was worth it. Eva was worth anything.

Kate leaned against Eva’s chest and looked back down at the foot. This too small foot had hurt for years, had made it hard to walk, and had represented everything Kate hated about being cyborg. It had never done anything but make Kate feel like shit.

Kate held the cyborg foot over the shining water of Artemisia Lake and let go.

[deathduty]

Know Your Onions || Deirdre & Orion

PARTIES: @3starsquinn & @deathduty (and Nic’s ghost) TIMING: Current (?) LOCATION: Rio’s house CONTENT:  Deirdre calls Rio ugly a lot SUMMARY: Rio meets his landlord, Deirdre misses Nic’s muscles 

The house Deirdre had gotten for Nic sat deep in the back of her mind. She thought of it rarely, and only remembered when passing the neighborhood that it existed at all. With time to spare, and Nic and Skylar seemingly gone, it seemed right to ready the house for sale. Or, at least, to use as a second location to store her bones. She’d figure it out. Using her copy of the key, she entered slowly, eyeing a place she’d never really seen. She found it odd that the furniture hadn’t really been taken, or the bits and bobbles of decoration. For what it looked like, it was as if someone was still living here. Deirdre sighed, throwing herself on the couch and kicking her feet up. She could put a skull there, by the window, and a bigger skeleton could hang over there. But did she really need another house in the same town? It was so far out of her usual way that it hardly made sense. Then again, the windows were large, and she wondered what it might be like to push someone out of them. As Deirdre pondered these questions of great importance, a scrawny boy entered her vision. He appeared sad, and pathetic in that way young humans were. Most of all, though, she didn’t recognize him. Deirdre sat up. “If you’re here to rob the place, child. I’m the most valuable thing here and...if we’re being honest, I think a strong enough breeze would send you into the next city.” Deirdre eyed the boy, and then the window, and then the boy again. He would do nicely. 

Orion hadn’t been in the best state mentally since Skye had left. He had found himself alone in another house with too many memories and too much space for Rio alone. But still, it beat moving back into the empty shell of a home that his dead parents had left behind. Besides, how could he beat the opportunity to stay in a house that had apparently already been paid for in full? He didn’t understand much about adulthood, moving out of his parent’s house only to move in with a guy that wouldn’t even consider charging Rio rent. Here, things weren’t much different. There was no rent to pay, just utilities or whatever. He had been left with instructions on how to make the payments, and as far as he was aware he hadn’t been evicted yet. But he had been crying. A lot of crying. Enough crying that very morning even that his senses never picked up on the front door opening. He was lying on the floor next to his bed, slowly coming down from an episode when he finally heard the movement downstairs. He froze, focusing his senses out to try to confirm the source of the noise. But the more he listened, the more he was convinced that there was somebody downstairs right now. He rose slowly, his head peaking out from behind the bed as he glanced over at the open bedroom door. He half expected someone, or something to be standing there waiting for him. Luckily that hadn’t been the case. Rio rose slowly, taking light steps, just as his hunter mentor had been teaching him, out into the hallway and down the stairs. He slowly crept towards the source of the noise, finally turning a corner into the living room and taking in the view of a woman casually spread out across his couch. He wiped at his eyes quickly, trying uselessly to hide the evidence of red eyes and tear streaks. “What? No. I’m not here to rob the place. I’m here to live the place.” Rio paused, clearly flustered and trying to speak normally, “No. Wait. I mean I live the place. Er- I live here. This is my place!” Rio finally clarified a bit too passionately. He chose not to comment on her second statement. He knew exactly how he looked. “Uh… who are you?”

The more Deirdre looked at the boy, the more sad he seemed. He looked like he either had been crying, or had one of those faces that made him look like he was always one mean comment away from bursting into tears. As he spoke, her eyes narrowed. The only people who lived here were Skylar and Nic. The child clearly wasn’t Skylar and…. Deirdre rose from the couch with a gasp, hands clasped over her mouth. Poor Nic. Tears welled in her eyes. Somehow, he had been turned into a sad, pathetic, muscle-less little boy. Like someone had zapped all of his hotness away. If that had been her, well, she would’ve been crying too. And she was, now, for the loss of Nic’s muscles. Truthfully, she couldn’t remember what Nic looked like aside from his biceps, which were the only place she looked. He was barely recognizable now, in this cursed state. “I’m so sorry you’re so ugly,” she drew closer to him, clutching her chest. “It’s me, Deirdre. Your landlord. Oh, I know it must be hard to remember me, when we met you were much more….” She gestured in the air, miming his muscles. “I’m so sorry.” She drew the child-Nic into a hug. “I’m going to help you get through this, okay? No one should ever have to look like you do.” She drew back, “have you eaten anything today? You’re going to need lots of protein, okay? It’ll help.”

The woman was staring at Orion. An intense but vacant stare that made Rio convinced that she was clearly thinking through something in her head. Rio wasn’t sure what to expect from the woman. Was she there to kill him? Rio really wasn’t prepared to fight for his life. Or particularly motivated too either. But instead, the woman jumped from his couch and shot over to him with… were those tears in her eyes? Rio wasn’t just confused now, he was a bit worried. But any sense of sorrow he felt the woman quickly vanished when she spoke again. Suddenly, there was a lot less fear and most a healthy mix of confusion and confusion. His face dropped into a flatline, all emotion wiped from his face as he processed what the woman was saying to him. “I’m sorry I- don’t think we’ve ever met before.” Rio tried, trying to maintain pleasantries despite being absolutely sure that he had never met this woman before. “Get through what?” Rio questioned, his body immediately tensing at the hug that Deirdre had pulled him into. Who the heck was this woman? “I- uh. Of course I’ve eaten today. I’m really not as skinny as everyone says you know? Have you been talking to the Doctor? She always sends me protein shake recipes.”

“Oh you’re in denial…” Deirdre tutted, letting the child go. “You should listen to your doctor, she’s right about the protein shakes. But you need to lift weights too, or else there’s no real point to the protein.” Perhaps it was some solemn acceptance that Nic had been reduced to this form. He must have come to terms with the fact that he was more noodle than man--with a face like a distressed baby. Nic always was a man of inner strength, as she could tell, which she really couldn’t given how distracting his outer strength was. But to be turned into a child? The mere thought made her shiver. “It’s okay if you don’t remember me,” she smiled, “your brain must be blocking everything out. How long have you been living like this?” 

“I am not in denial.” Orion doubled down, crossing his arms like a pouting child and narrowing his eyes in her direction. “But the protein shakes were good. And I do lift weights sometimes!” Why was this woman so convinced that they knew each other? More importantly, why was she so obsessed with his accused frailness? He resisted the urge to try to point that he had gained a lot of muscle since training with Adam and Kaden. But that muscle went mostly unnoticed due to the baggy clothes he always wore. Besides, she didn’t seem entirely interested in his argument anyways. “Okay, that’s a lie. But I do exercise!” She wouldn’t stop looking at him with this face of mourning. As if Rio, or whoever she was convinced that Rio was, had died or something. He wasn’t a fan of the look at all. “It’s not that I don’t remember you. I’m pretty sure that we’ve never met! I didn’t know there was a landlord. I just paid Skye my cut of the utilities.” The last question baffled him a bit, and he paused and looked towards the ceiling as he considered his answer. “Uh- I’m 21. So 21 years?”

Deirdre’s frown grew deeper; how sad was it that Nic had to lie about lifting weights? He must’ve been demoralized after seeing the sorry state of his muscles. If he hadn’t blocked that from his memory at all. “You made Skylar handle your finances?” A look of disgust passed over her features--Skylar was also a child, and Nic was an adult. An adult of...21 years of age? Her face scrunched together in confusion. Nic was older, but even being transformed into a child would still mean he was just as old as he was before. Surely he was older than 21, wasn’t he? Deirdre crossed her arms over her chest, grumbling to herself as her mind tried to figure it out. It was true that she had a hard time telling the age of humans. This child here looked about 12, and Nic appeared adult-aged, whatever that meant. Maybe he truly was only 21? But she knew a handful of 21 year-olds and none looked like Nic. Was this Nic? No, of course it was. Who else would be living here? She’d only ever heard of Nic and Skylar. “You’ve been sad for 21 years?” She asked the boy, sighing, “you look like an abandoned puppy who was taken in and then abandoned again. And you’ve been that way for 21 years, child?” She paused, “are you sad because you have no muscles?” 

“What? No. That sounds mean.” Orion defended immediately, but started to wonder if he had been putting too much stress on Skye. He had never known much responsibility financially when he lived with his parents. And in Ricky’s house he was lucky to get the man to accept money for groceries. “I mean, Skylar had everything under control when I moved in. Probably after Nic left.” Rio spoke absentmindedly, now trying to convince himself more than this woman who claimed to be his landlord. Rio actually chuckled at Deirdre’s question. You’ve been sad for 21 years? Clearly they had never met before, despite her believing otherwise. “Um. Yeah, just about. Give or take a couple.” Maybe the first few before he had any memories. “Thanks?” Rio didn’t actually take her surprisingly relatable comparison as a compliment, but when faced by someone as blunt as this woman seemed to be Rio didn’t actually know how to respond to what she was saying. “I’ve been sad about a lot of things but muscles hasn’t really-” Rio began explaining before he realized that diving into his childhood trauma was not productive to this conversation at all. He shook his head and scratched at the back of his neck, “Actually I don’t know what this has to do with anything? I always assumed that Nic owned the house. So uh… who are you? Besides Deirdre the landlord. Like- how did they end up living in your house?”

“Nic….left…?” Deirdre eyed the boy, suspicious. If this was Nic, it seemed strange that he would have a recollection of Nic, yet no awareness that he was the very man he spoke of. “....what is your name, skinny child?” Possibly, though Deirdre would admit it was an honest mistake, this kid wasn’t Nic. But again, possibly he was. It was hard to tell with White Crest. Gone were the simple days of raining fish, now there were curses and ghosts and skinny boys. If Nic had been turned into a sad child, who else would notice it but her? At any rate, she wouldn’t be able to tell unless someone could verify that this child had truly lived for 21 years and wasn’t actually from the swamp, or wherever Nic said he was from. “Yes, well I bought him the house because he saved someone’s life, and I felt he deserved a reward, as humans often do. You give a dog a treat and a human a house. I didn’t think much of it, but it was nice being a landlord. For one thing, lord is in the title–as it ought. And for another, it’s nice to have a buff man give you money every month. Although we never saw each other, it was nice to know that behind the money drops was a buff man. You know…” Deirdre snapped, “maybe that’s the answer to your sadness. If we got a buff man in here to do all your chores, you’d feel much better. It works for me.” Or would his muscles remind the boy all of what he was missing out on?

“Uh yeah? Like, quite a while ago. Were you not aware that Nic left?” Orion was so confused. There was nothing about this woman or scenario that had not completely baffled him since the moment he heard her in his home. Or her home he supposed. “Orion. Well, most people call me Rio. Either one, really.” Rio answered on instinct, only later realizing what she had called him, “Hey! I’m… slightly less skinny than I used to be.” In his head, that had been a much better defense than it sounded out loud. So this woman was clearly incredibly wealthy, buying houses for men on a whim and- Did she just say humans? Rio’s face settled into a curious squint, studying the woman. Was she just completely lunatic or supernatural? Rio shrugged to himself as he considered the possibility that she might be both. “Right. Right. Well that was uh, super nice of you. To buy Nic a house and all.” Most importantly, he wondered how Nic had ended up in a situation where a supernatural woman bought a hunter a ginormous house for saving some random person’s life. It was altruistic sure, Rio felt bad admitting to himself that he didn’t think altruism seemed like this woman’s strongest attribute. She had barely known him for five minutes and had spent four and a half of them insulting him. “All great points that I never considered. Nic did have very buff arms. Not that I ever really noticed them. I mean I noticed them because like, they were right there and I have eyes. But I never like, noticed them noticed them, y’know? I mean he was basically my dad. He wasn’t my dad for record. I just kinda wished he had been my dad.” Oh god that was a train wreck. Rio needed to find a way to recover from that volcano of embarrassment, “My real dad’s dead.” He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing he could disappear into a void. Nailed it. “I uh- you have buff men do all your chores? That’s kinda cool.” 

"No, I knew he left, I just didn't know he had...other children in his house." Maybe Deirdre didn't have any room to judge the man, she did have her own influx of young people at her house. Maybe this child really wasn't Nic then? She'd have to ask Morgan about it. "Sorry, you'll have to speak up--" Lost in her thoughts, she missed what he'd said and found herself leaning in to hear better. "Your name is Onion?" She leaned back, frowning. No wonder why he was said, his name was Onion. He was skinny and named after a vegetable. "No," she waved her hand in the air, "don't call me nice. I don't like that word being used for me." And then, as though the child wasn't sad enough, he continued to speak. So he was sad because he was skinny, named after a vegetable and had a dead father. Perhaps it was that last thing that was most important. Deirdre shifted her weight. "Onion child," she proclaimed, "you are sad because your father is dead and Nic, who was like your father, is now gone, yes? Would you be less sad if I was your father? I could wear a fake mustache. Just remember that tears stain the hardwood, and I'd like this house to maintain its value." And perhaps she ought to be kinder to him? Deirdre clapped her hand on his skinny, skinny, shoulder. "Buff men don't do my chores anymore--you could say I've become the buff man in my own life--but I do employ a few to make deliveries for me." Bind was the more accurate word, but she felt that employ would do. "I will get you a buff man to do some housework. You may call him 'daddy' like the youth seem so inclined to. And you can forward your payments through Venmo, if that's easier, Onion. How does that sound?" 

“I’m actually 21.” Orion mentioned in passing after Deirdre called him a child, but it seemed she mostly glossed over it as she continued talking. Rio just nodded to himself solemnly and continued listening. This experience was repeated when he tried to correct her when she called him onion. “Oh. Uh- sorry for calling you nice?” That was an odd thing to be dismissive about, but to each their own. This was probably the strangest he had ever had with another human being. Or, he supposed that based on what she had said earlier Dierdre may not be human at all. She called him onion and a child again and Rio only had the capacity to once again briefly chime in and correct, “Orion.” It was once again ignored. “Uh. Yeah, I mean I guess I’m pretty sad about Nic leaving” Rio had no interest in touching on the topic of his dead father. He wasn’t sure talking with a stranger about his lack of remorse over his dad dying would make her feel great about potentially letting him stay in this house she had not so nicely bought. “But it’s really okay and-” He cut himself off. Did she just offer to wear a fake mustache and be his new dad? The suggestion was so outrageously wild that Rio genuinely didn’t know whether to laugh or be very, very worried. He coughed slightly to avoid a nervous laugh and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Oh uh. That’s not necessary. But yeah. No damages, for sure.” Was she actually going to let him stay here? He winced at her hand on his shoulder but didn’t react any further, choosing instead to listen to her compare herself to her former buff men, “That’s uh… deep.” But as confused as he wanted to be, he was mostly surprised to hear that the woman actually planned on letting him stay. “Oh a buff man really isn’t necessary. Especially the daddy part. But seriously? You’re letting me stay? That’s amazing, oh my god. I’m really inclined to call you nice right now, but I’m going to resist.” Rio didn't, however, resist jumping up and down in excitement. He had his own qualms about staying along in this large house, but he definitely hated the idea of having to move his stuff again anymore. “Also uh- it’s Orion.”

There was something peculiar about Onion. Well, most things, it seemed, were peculiar about him. But he seemed, in addition to being scrawny, sad and pathetic, to also want to insist that his name was Orion instead. Deirdre refused. She had been wrong once (debatably; she still needed to ask Morgan about this) and that was already too many times for her to be wrong in a day. Whether the kid liked it or not, he was Onion. Deirdre shifted her weight and quirked a brow up at the boy, “why wouldn’t I let you stay? No, don’t answer that. You’re sure to have some sad response like…’everyone kicks me out because I weep uncontrollably in the night’.” Deirdre looked around. The house she purchased was never meant to be any one’s home. Strange as it was, Nic struck her as the type that couldn’t settle in one place. And Skylar…. Deirdre shook her head. It was this sad child’s home now, and Deirdre had no intentions of taking it away. “Onion,” she began, “I suspect I must’ve been a bad landlord to Nic and Skylar.” She has been a normal one, truly, having never attended to any of their housely needs. “But I want you to know that that changes now. If you need anything–a father, protein, more tissues for your tears–you may contact me. And my offer to be your father remains. No child should be sad or ugly, and least of all not both.” In her head, her words felt like a grand speech of emotional proportions. She was sure Onion would think of this later and cry. “And with that, I believe I should leave you alone to cry…?” 

It was quickly dawning on Orion that talking to his new landlord wasn’t so much possible as talking at her while she spoke over him. It wasn’t exactly a huge issue aside from her insistence that his name was onion and her repeated mentions of what a sad boy he was. Despite this, he figured he could look past all of that if it meant that he had a place to live. He almost chimed in with potential reasons why she wouldn’t let him stay at the house until she kept him off, filling in the gaps for him with mentions of stories and crying. “I wouldn’t call it uncontrollable…” Rio rattled off absentmindedly, more to convince himself than his landlord since clearly she wasn’t listening to much of what Rio was saying. “Right. Um well, I really appreciate this. I will be sure to reach out if I need anything, but really I think you’ll find me to be a very quiet tenant. Just paying what I owe and probably not any of those other mentioned things. Especially the dad thing.” Because the dad thing was definitely weird, even by Rio’s messed up standards. She managed to get one more double insult off and Rio just nodded his head solemnly, resigned to his own fate. Was this how every reaction with the woman going to go? “Won’t be crying, but will be enjoying having a house to live in!” Rio gave the girl a thumbs up and a smile, “It was… nice to meet you?” It came out as more of a question than anything else, mostly because he hadn’t convinced himself it was true before saying it.

“Yes it was nice to meet me…” Deirdre trailed off, nose high to the ceiling and, with what she imagined to be great humility, lowered her head slowly to meet the child’s gaze. “And, I suppose, not so terrible to meet you, sad child.” She had a feeling he wasn’t the sort to bother others with his problems, and she imagined she really wouldn’t be hearing much from him. At the idea, a peculiar stab of something (an emotion quite like that of dropping ice cream on the ground) struck her slow-beating heart. She shook her head, and moved to the door. Whatever the child would do, wherever he would go, he was nothing but a speck on the earth and a drop in time’s fast-flowing river. But to her, he was her tenant. And she, his landlord. And perhaps business bred fondness, or perhaps she truly was more sentimental than she imagined, but she considered for a moment that he ought to have his little water drop of a life feel special. And this house, a home. “Orion,” she corrected, her hand pressed to the door frame as she turned her head only half towards him, watching from the corner of her eye. “Don’t live a life you’ll regret.” She turned her head back. “And stop being so ugly.” And with that, she shut the door behind her. 

[fantastic-rambles]

Reunion

Fandom: ID:Invaded

Characters: Hondomachi Koharu/Hijirido Miyo, Fukuda Tamotsu/Anaido

Warnings: Discussion of suicide/attempted suicide, mentions of murder

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Although Fukuda remains in a coma following the events of Asukai Kiki’s release, Hondomachi hopes to speak with the man who changed her life at least one more time. Thanks to the Mizuhanome, she discovers that it is possible to get her wish.

She looked down at the girl at her feet, and a flash of recognition pierced her strange amnesia.

"I know this girl's name. This is Kaeru. And so I remember who I am. My name is Hijirido Miyo, the brilliant detective."

And as the brilliant detective, she had to solve the mystery of Kaeru's death. But before she could begin her examination of the oddly segmented body, another voice interrupted her.

"Ha ha ha. You're not wrong, but you're not exactly correct, either."

Turning around, she saw a young man in a blue trenchcoat. He was smiling broadly as she looked at him, and she frowned in response.

"Who are you? And what do you mean?"

"I am the brilliant detective, Anaido. But I am also Fukuda Tamotsu, just as you... are... Hondomachi Koharu," he introduced himself, leaning over to tap her on the forehead in time with his words. Suddenly, all of her memories came flooding back, and her eyes widened as she took them all in. And then she was throwing herself at the man, wrapping her arms around him.

"Fukuda!"

He laughed again, raising his hand so he could pat her on the head.

"That's right, Hijirido. It was quite clever of you to use the Mizuhanome to arrange this. Am I correct to think that this is my id well?"

"Yes," Hondomachi replied, her voice slightly muffled by his coat. Stepping back and tilting her head up to look at him, she continued, "It seemed like you wanted to see it. And if Chief Hayaseura could enter his well even after he died, then you should be able to as well, even in a coma."

"And the Kura probably determined that there would be a low risk of a well storm, due to my unique condition in which I can remain a brilliant detective while remembering Fukuda Tamotsu. And even if there was one, I could get us out," Anaido finished cheerfully, jabbing finger guns at Hondomachi. "Cool! Though I must admit that it is rather uncomfortable to be missing my hole."

Instantly, Hondomachi looked contrite, dropping her gaze. "I'm sorry. But there was no other way--"

"It's fine, it's fine, it's fine," he reassured her, walking over to the window. "I got to see this place, and the nice job that you and Narihisago did with the old man."

He tapped on the glass, and she walked over to look out herself at the figure in red collapsed in the Mizuhanome cockpit. A feeling of satisfaction bubbled up in her chest as she recalled how they had managed to trap and defeat John Walker, who had incited so many serial killers, including the Perforator. They'd cornered him, stripped him of his ability to play God, and then sent him to a world where only his own death awaited him, if Narihisago's predictions were correct.

"Besides, it's better than Narihisago's well," Anaido added. "His always drove me crazy, though I haven't quite figured out how I can kill myself off in this one yet. I wouldn't have minded seeing your own well again, either, but I suppose this wouldn't have been possible, then, since you would have had a well storm."

"Or you could just wake up," Hondomachi suggested, but he just chuckled.

"Why would I want to do that? Other than something like this, everything is probably quiet and empty, right? That was the whole reason I put a drill through my head in the first place. And now that the Kura knows the truth about Anaido, they won't use me again since I have even less reason to stay alive in a well than before."

Hondomachi's face fell slightly, but he wasn't saying anything that they hadn't already figured out. For Fukuda, the only thing better than remaining comatose, in which there was a chance for recovery, would probably be actually being dead. She'd realized that herself when she'd entered Asukai Kiki's well and spoken to him again, and as the brilliant detective Anaido, he would feel that urge even more strongly. Perhaps even this was cruel of her, to drag him out of the void that he so clearly desired, just for her own satisfaction, but she'd wanted to talk to him again, at least one more time.

"Anyways!" Anaido interrupted, still as cheerful as before. He didn't seem to have noticed her mood at all--or perhaps he was just being considerate in his own way--as he clapped his hands to get her attention. "You still haven't told me what you think about my well, Hijirido."

Hondomachi looked around at the empty spaces that had been filled with the return of her memory, the way all the disjointed pieces fit together while still leaving gaps, and she smiled at Anaido.

"It's interesting, just like you."

"Isn't it? Let's take a look around," Anaido offered, pulling open the door to the room. Hondomachi spared a moment to glance back at Kaeru, then followed him out, letting him take the lead.

"So, what's this about? Just visiting?" he asked, and she nodded.

"I just want to know more about you. You saved my life, so the least I can do is try to remember you. But all I really know is the Perforator. What were you like before that? How did you become who you are?"

"Wow! What a hard worker!" Anaido exclaimed, turning around and walking backwards so he could look at her. "But there's no debt of obligation, Hijirido. I just did what I wanted to do, and it worked out for the best for both of us. And I was even able to get three wishes granted: I think I had the better end of the bargain."

"I still want to know," Hondomachi insisted, and he nodded, turning around again and leading them off in a different direction.

"Well, then, let's find somewhere that we can be comfortable while we talk," he suggested. After pulling a few more rooms together, they found the living room that was occupied by Fukuda's "family." The sight of his victims troubled Hondomachi somewhat, though Anaido seemed fascinated by them. Still, the prospect of talking to a real person rather than something his mind had generated proved to be a greater draw, and they continued to piece together the fragmented well. 

Eventually, they were able to find a simple room that was probably part of a basement: blank walls, no windows, and a few pieces of furniture. Anaido's fingers tapped in a steady rhythm on his leg after they had each taken a seat, but there were no other obvious signs of his arithmomania in the mostly bare room.

"You know, even if John Walker hadn't shown up in my dreams, I might have started drilling holes in other people anyways," Anaido commented, and Hondomachi nodded. He wouldn't know anything that had happened in Asukai's well, but their conversation then had suggested as much. When she had reviewed Narihisago's investigations and interviewed Fukuda, she'd realized that he was the only one of Chief Hayaseura's targets who had refused to kill Asukai, since he had no interest in "dream holes." Unlike the other killers, who were driven by a desire to kill, he just wanted to help people in the way that a hole in his head had helped him: the resulting deaths were just incidental. It didn't make the reality any less terrible, and there was no doubt that Fukuda was certifiably insane for having such a thought process, but he was at least marginally more sympathetic for it.

"Before that, though, I think that I had a fairly ordinary life. Or as ordinary as it could be with this."

He raised a hand to tap the right side of his head.

"It was a blessing and a curse. I made good money as a programmer, enough that I could stay home most of the time so I didn't have to deal with a flood of numbers, other than when I was working. And I was good at what I did. But maybe that just made things worse, because they started to drown out everything else. I began to see numbers everywhere: four walls, two windows, even the cracks in the ceiling. Eventually, even when I closed my eyes, they continued to pour in. And when it finally became too much..."

He shrugged. When it had finally become too much, he had tried to end it by putting a hole through his head. It was a common enough method, if not for the tool he had chosen for the task.

"Why a drill?" Hondomachi asked, and Anaido smiled as he pointed at her hole.

"Why indeed? I always tried to put them in the same place, you know. How much do you know about the anatomy of the brain?"

"Not much," Hondomachi admitted, and Anaido turned his finger onto himself, placing it on his forehead where his own hole had been.

"The frontal lobe is in charge of many things, including working memory. In layman's terms, something like attention span."

Tracing his finger around his head to where the drill had broken through the back of his skull, he continued, "The parietal lobe is important for sensing, and more importantly, in my case, for numbers. It is perfectly possible to keep living even with damage to both those areas, as you've learned. I merely decided to roll the dice."

"And you won your gamble."

"I did. And so did you. Con-grat-s!" He jabbed his fingers toward her again, still as chipper as always. But Hondomachi noticed how his eyes were shifting, taking in everything in bits and pieces, but mostly focusing on her--or more likely, the patterns in her clothes--in the barren room. Reluctantly, she got to her feet, brushing off her legs.

"I'm sorry again. I'll go now, but... would you mind if we did this again sometime? Just talking a little, once in a while?"

Anaido's head cocked slightly, and his smile softened, looking more like Fukuda than the brilliant detective.

"If it really just is 'once in a while,' I might like that, Hondomachi."

She smiled back, and then both of them looked up as an invisible hand tugged them into the sky. Hondomachi opened her eyes as the Mizuhanome cockpit settled around her, her gaze shifting to the other machine, where Fukuda lay, unmoving. Two guards were already there, starting to move him to a gurney, and she just watched until they left.

"Are you alright, Hondomachi?"

She smiled, looking up toward the ceiling.

"I'm fine, Director Momoki."

"Then please get ready. We have a new well to investigate."

[prurientpuddlejumper]

A Deep and Rapid River, Ch. 9

<- Chapter 8 | Chapter 10 ->

@sexy-opium-ravioli​ asked me to write a comfort Frankenstein fic so instead I did this [stares at the camera] 

cw: suicidal ideation 

Heavy raindrops pound on the wood-shingle roof, each impact combining into a chorus that roars in your ears in the pitch-black darkness. It’s like you’re being swallowed by a great beast. The entire building creaks, straining against the wind, making your heart race with the fear that it might all come crashing down on top of you as you lay clutching the covers in bed.

A deafening crack and blinding surge of light is followed shortly by a second, earthier crack and a dull thud on grass. Lightning hit one of the trees in the pasture.

In the middle of this raging tempest through which no living being could survive, there comes a scratch at your shutter. The curtains flutter as wind suddenly swirls inside, and the roar of rain grows louder. Something is coming into your bedroom.

Another flash of lightning reveals the silhouette of a massive figure, drenched and dripping, standing in front of the window. The blast of thunder that shortly follows makes the enormous figure jump, and rush, trembling like a kitten, to your bedside.

You take his deformed and scarred hand in yours, and squeeze it.

“I do not like thunder,” his grave voice whispers through gasping, timid breaths. Your beautiful, sweet creature. You never want anything to hurt him. An aching sadness washes over you anew, quivering your lower lip.

He notices you are shaking, frantic, frazzled, and puffy-eyed. He doesn’t look much better.

“When you did not come, I feared for you.” He licks his lips nervously. “I ascertained that you were within the house, but were under guard, and I could not reach you. Please tell me you are unharmed—if anything has happened to you, I shall not forgive my cowardice.”

Without warning, a sob chokes you, and hot tears roll down your face. The monster, filling up half your small cottage bedroom, doffs his wet cloak and pulls your crying form against his warm, broad chest like an extension of the furniture and holds you, rubbing your back and cooing soft words of comfort. You hide your face against him, trying to disappear as muffled sobs wrack your shoulders.

“What is wrong?” he asks with a voice so fragile from your silence that the answer might break him.

“Just let me hold you for awhile. Please.”

You feel him shudder against you, and surround you in his warm arms like a cocoon. It’s a long time before you can collect yourself enough to tell him what happened.

*****

“Like hell we are!” you snapped impulsively as soon as Ferdinand announced your “engagement.” Your fists clenched into tight balls of righteous fury. He was delusional. You were leaving.

Then your father stared at you—that dark, severe stare that threatened violence if you did not behave. “Mind your tongue, child!” he snapped, and your tongue stopped moving, and all of the smart words that had been on the tip of it just disappeared. It was so strange. You had been frightened to run, terrified, but you were ready. Just like that, all the oxygen seemed to drain from the room as Ferdinand, your father, and your mother surrounded you, reminding you of your place in the world and how helpless you were in it.

Your fiery ember dropped into a bucket of water.

You sat in the living room, trapped like a rabbit in a snare, crawling inside your own skin as reality washed over you. They laid out the situation. There were rumors around town—serious ones—that you’ve been consorting with the devil. Half the village thought you were a witch. It wouldn’t be long before something terrible came of it, but Ferdinand had graciously offered to make you his wife, and in doing so, put the rumors to bed. So you would marry him. He was well-liked among the superstitious factions, and could get them to leave you alone if he made you an honest woman. (You growled at the implications of that particular phrase.)

Ferdinand sneered with self-satisfaction, his voice dripping with honey as he said how much he worried for you.

They were pressing you into the marriage and would hear no arguments, no back-talk. They suspected you might run, and wouldn’t let you out of their sight—your mother, your father, and Ferdinand.

You were prey. There was nothing you could do to fight.

The sky grew ever darker and more ominous with each passing minute you spent ensnared, until you knew you had missed the rendezvous time. Your heart twisted—if your daemon were wise, he had left already without you. Thinking of the alternative—that he had stayed, and would be discovered—your chest twisted even tighter. Marrying Ferdinand was a get-out-of-jail-free card for you, but the creature’s life was in irrevocable mortal jeopardy.

“You can’t force me to marry him!” you whimpered to your mother, praying for a sympathetic ear when you were left alone with her for a moment. She was horrible, but she was a woman. She must understand, at least a little, what they were doing to you.

She patted you softly on the shoulder, but her eyes stayed hard. “Your grandmother remembered when they burned a witch right in the center of town. Believe me, this gossip is not something to take lightly. Making you a proper wife is the only way to make people see that you are a normal girl. If you do not, then you shall no longer be our daughter, and we cannot protect you from whatever shall happen next.”

You tried to speak, but your tongue was dry. You kept trying to swallow the dryness away, but it stuck in your throat. You wanted to rage, to scream against them, to be on fire, but your blood had all turned to ice.

This was happening, and there was nothing you could do but accept it.

*****

The creature strokes your cheek gently, his sympathetic and sorrowful yellow eyes glistening in the erratic flashes of light from the storm. “I am sorry I could not protect you. I am here now; let us depart under the cloak of night.”

Your head shakes in tense arcs before you decide to make them, your throat closing up. “You don’t understand—I can’t.”

The dark shadow shaped like his body becomes a tense, rigid statue. “What do you mean?” he says, cautiously.

“I can’t!” you repeat, as if he’s the one not making sense and your feelings should need no explanation, but you explain anyway, the words gushing out like a flooded river. “Maybe I wanted to, I thought I could, but it isn’t realistic. Look at the storm outside! I can’t run away in the middle of this—it frightens even you, doesn’t it? You couldn’t protect me should a thunderbolt strike me on the head! What will we do during weather such as this without any shelter? With my family monitoring me like a prisoner, I could not even finish packing—I haven’t the food and water to survive a week away from home! Where could we go, anyway? You cannot guarantee Victor Frankenstein will take us in! He may just as likely kill us! They think me a witch here, where everyone has known me since I was a baby. I will be a witch in the next town. We will be pariahs wherever we go.”

You wished he would yell, that he would argue, or be consumed in a fit of emotion—that would be better somehow—instead, he listens to your fearful list of excuses silently, with no reaction but his shoulders slowly falling and a soft, pained growl deep in his throat.

“D-don’t you see?” you explain frantically as if he had been arguing back. “We don’t need to run. They never spoke of you as more than rumor—those hunters, and Bess, they must not have been believed as any more than superstition. Every town has its ghost stories. There is no bloodthirsty mob, so long as I marry him. We can stay here and keep you hidden. We’ll be safe.”

“Safe?” he growls, but only softly and without malice. He can no longer bear to listen quietly. “You wish to marry him?” You hoped he would be angry, but his voice is a wavering medley of betrayal and confusion, and the pang it leaves in your heart is almost too much to bear.

“Of course not, but I have no choice.”

“Yes, you do. Run away with me tonight.” An angry bolt of lightning splintered another tree out in the pasture, making you both jump, and providing the counterpoint to his argument for you. “Tell me you want to marry him,” he reaches out with a large hand that could cover your entire head, and delicately strokes your cheek. His eyes glisten with longing. “Tell me you want this and I will go. I shall live the rest of my life a miserable wretch, but I shall bear it, knowing you are happy.”

“Y-you once told me you wouldn’t care if I was with other men, so long as I came back to you. Maybe we could…”

That finally gets a rise out of him. “We could what?” he snaps, cutting you off. “You desire to marry another, and keep me hidden away in a barn—a filthy secret for you to visit at your leisure—to make love to when you are not sharing a bed with your husband? Is that… what you want?” The energy and indignation he had begun with fades away to a lame sort of helplessness by the end.

You know how pathetic you sound. How weak. It was the last thing you expected of yourself, too. You had always walked to your own beat, never fit in, and never cared what anyone thought of you—at least not enough to change for their benefit. You always dreamed of running away one day.

But you hadn’t.

No matter how much you had dreamed it—and even one exhilarating day had packed a bag and chased an eight-foot monster into the forest, convinced that you might run away with him—you never actually did. So many years waiting in misery, and all of that time you could have run.

But you wouldn’t. The moment the fantasy began to crystallize into reality, you froze with terror. You never would.

You only wish you had realized this before hurting him. Your precious daemon stares back at you expectantly, fiercely blinking his watery yellow eyes to fight off tears he won’t let fall in front of you. He’s waiting for you to assure him that this is a mistake—that he’s more to you than a sexual pet—and your heart twists with shame.

“Here is bad, but here is safe. It’s that kind of bad that’s all I’ve ever known. That sharp, snow-covered peak you can see from the barn has stood there, unchanging since I was born. It was there watching over our valley before my parents were born. The alpine winds have shaped it for thousands of years, since before the great pyramids of Egypt. Maybe I am like that mountain. Maybe I can never change, no matter how much I want to.”

It’s not the answer he hoped for. His jaw clenches. He had come here thinking you were running away together at last, and finally, finally, the weight of what is happening sinks in. You watch as the hope goes out of his eyes. Lightning flashes behind him, a little more distantly now. His throat bobs as he swallows.

“Please don’t look away,” you sob, begging. Something inside you is breaking with him.

Footsteps creak on the stairs and the faint orange glow of a candle filters under the door. “Are you talking to someone in there?” demands your mother’s shrill voice just as the door to your bedroom swings open. Your mother gasps in horror.

“You’ve left the window open, you fool child!” She clucks disapprovingly and rushes to shut it, closing the drenched curtains over it once it is latched tight. The shadow of the creature is gone. “What were you thinking? Of running away?” she snaps.

Yes, you want to scream. You hate her. Pinpricks of tears sting your eyes, and you wish you had disappeared into the night, too, for a vengeful bolt of lightning to release you from your misery.

Then she does something that surprises you. She sighs, and sits at the edge of your bed, her weight making a sinkhole on the straw-filled mattress. “My baby girl, you’re crying. They say it isn’t right for a bride to cry on her wedding night, but we know better.” She smiles sadly and wipes a tear from your cheek. “I wanted to run away, too,” she says quietly. Her gaze drifts over the window thoughtfully, like she was imagining a different life. In the flickering candlelight, you wonder if she could almost see it, that other life. You wonder what it was. “But if I had, where would you be?!” Her voice is back to an accusing, judgment-laden shrill. “I’ve tried so hard with you, to get you to grow up. You finally came to your senses—you’re not a child anymore, you can’t just do whatever you want. Life isn't a fairy tale. Life isn’t about being happy… it’s about doing what you have to do. Don’t disappoint me.”

When she leaves and returns downstairs, you give a cursory but hopeful search under the bed and in the corners and shadows for the creature, but he is gone. You had seen him disappear into the loft at the slightest sound of footsteps dozens of times, and you know he had fled out the window and is miles away by now. You wonder if he had returned to the barn, but you know in your heart that he’s gone. It’s already too late. You saw the way he had looked at you before your mother interrupted. Betrayed. Wounded. Finished.

He must hate you.

You throw open the shutters again and look out on the dark, windswept landscape. Heavy, cold rain pummels your face, soaking your night dress instantly and making your squint and shiver against it. There is no sign of him, though above the howling of the wind, you imagine that you hear him howling, desperate and anguished. You could jump from here, you think. You could lash together your bed sheets and climb down undetected, and—

A bolt of lightning strikes a tree in front of the house and it explodes to splinters as a cataclysm of thunder bursts open your ears. The blinding-white flash fills your room and your senses, sets all your hairs standing on end, and for several moments after you can’t see or hear a thing. Am I alive? you wonder first. Is he scared? you worry a second later. When your eyes finally adjust to the dark again, you can see the smoldering embers of the destroyed trunk, its crown lying in pieces on the ground. One branch had scarcely missed the roof, and had you jumped from your window a moment before, you certainly would have been hit.

If only you had been, a part of you screams against your skull. It’s the only way out, now. Jump from the window! it insisted, its voice weaving harsh fingers of smoke through your mind. Run, slipping in the wet grass with your ankle broken into the night and find him, or be eaten by a bear. Let a branch fall and crush your pathetic body. Let the lightning take you to Hell.

You close the shutter, and latch it.

Shaking, you return to your bed and lay on top of the covers. The depression in the mattress from your mother is still flattening out. Wet spots on the blanket are the only memento of the creature’s visit. You remember what it felt like to be held, warm and safe in his arms just moments ago, and try to tuck the memory away somewhere it will never be lost. Somewhere you can look back at it in the years to come. You’ll never feel that way again.

It would be a mistake to run.

You're making the right choice.

You don’t want to die. Surviving means doing what you have to do.

You're making the right choice.

You're making the right choice.

You repeat it to yourself over and over, shivering alone on top of your bed until the black sky turns to grey, and the birds start to sing a summer chorus—first one melodic song, then a jarring metallic buzz, a repetitive whistle, and more and more add their voices until it swells into a cacophony in the purple dawn. The storm must have passed some time in the night without your noticing. It doesn’t matter. You made your choice and broke your own wings.

You made the right choice.

[charrators]

uhh not really doing janurwby exactly but i noticed the prompt for today is apocalypse which is. good an excuse as any to drop the schneekos tgwdlm au ig?

warnings: gore, slight body horror, major character death, spoilers for the guy who didn’t like musicals

Weiss hides behind the wreckage of the crashed helicopter, her injured leg sticking out at an unnatural angle. The . . . thing with glowing blue eyes sings a high, opratic note, then waits for a response. It doesn’t get one.

It. 

Thing. 

That used to be her friend. 

A part of her feels guilty for dehumanizing her, but on the other hand . . .

“Your friend was dead the moment a note left her mouth.”

Klein’s words ring clearly in her mind, harsh but true. He’s right. That isn’t her friend, not anymore. Ruby’s dead.

And so are Blake and Yang and Jaune and Nora and Ren and Oscar and—

No. No, she can’t break down yet. Once Pyrrha destroys the meteor, everyone will be fine. It’ll be like nothing ever happened.

Pyrrha . . . Pyrrha might die. It’s likely she’ll die. And despite all her reassuring talk about the “greater good,” about giving her own life to save all of Remnant from . . . whatever’s going on, Weiss really, really doesn’t want her to die.

She’s not quite sure what Pyrrha is to her, really. At first, Weiss idolized her, which — as she later found out — is the opposite of what she wants. The weird, complicated, messy feelings didn’t start until the whole musical thing started, which was . . . today. Earlier today. This morning.

Maybe it’s a little too soon to know for sure, but Weiss thinks she might be in love with Pyrrha.

Gods. Really couldn’t be at a better time, huh? It had to be in the middle of the musical zombie apocalypse that killed assimilated all her friends?

No, she can’t think about her friends because the more she thinks about her friends, the less hopeful she becomes. She remembers how Winter (is Winter alive? can’t think about her either, or Whitley or her mother) shot Yang when she attacked Weiss and revealed that every bone, every organ, every tendon had turned into some sort of . . . blue . . . shit? Weiss doesn’t know how anyone could come back from that.

But they will. They will.

Pain shoots up from her leg. Weiss tries not to look at it; if she looks at it she’ll want to take the steel beam out, and if she takes it out she might bleed to death. Although when if Pyrrha dies, who’ll find her? Nobody even knows she’s alive; the Ace Ops are the only ones allowed in the area, and according to the now-infected Marrow, who Pyrrha said offered to spare the two of them, they’ve been ordered to kill any survivors. 

Are there any other survivors? They’re technically safe from the Ace Ops now, after all, though not from . . . what they became.

Gods, Weiss hopes she’s not the only one. The thought of being alone again is too much to bear.

What used to be Ruby decides that there’s no one there and leaves. The infected have excellent hearing — namely when it comes to music — but they aren’t terribly bright in a lot of ways. Weiss thinks back to all the chances they had to infect her, but chose choreography instead.

She takes a deep breath, ignoring the pain from her impaled leg and the quiet yet nagging voice insisting that things may not turn out okay this time.

~

She hugs Pyrrha as tight as possible, standing on her tiptoes just so she can reach her shoulder. “You made it,” she whispers, tears in her eyes. If she’s alive, then she must have succeeded. If she succeeded, then everyone else must be alive.

Pyrrha pulls away from the hug, smiling serenely. Her long, red hair is loose from its ponytail, covering her eyes, and Weiss tenderly pushes it away with her hands.

She freezes.

Those vivid green eyes Weiss came to love are bright blue and glowing. Suddenly, Weiss sees people — so many people — hiding behind every corner, every bit of furniture in the sterile, white hospital wing, like they’re planning the world’s shittiest surprise party. She can see her teammates the clearest, though, and they’re grinning.

Pyrrha’s smile turns into a grin as well, teeth stained with that same awful blue. She turns Weiss’s head away from the rest of the hive and pulls her back into the hug, singing gently in a voice that’s not hers anymore.

“Weiss, I’m sorry, you lost.”

[7-wonders]

A Gentleman’s Guide to Wooing Your Prisoner

Summary: You begin to resign yourself to life in a prison cell, when things somehow manage to become even stranger. Alternately, Duncan deals with his staff and fellow prisoners having hope for the first time since the curse was placed on his home and everyone in it.

Word Count: 1.6k

Oh shit, another Beauty and the Beast!Duncan fic? That’s right, it’s the AU absolutely nobody asked for!

Without your phone, you can’t tell if it’s been minutes or hours since you took Jim’s place in this dark, dank cell. Every creak from the ceiling above makes you flinch, worry on your mind about the beast that owns this manor coming down to finish you off. Beyond that, it’s silent. No screams or yells, no hustle and bustle, just silence. You can hear the blood pounding in her ears as you lean against the stone wall, staring dejectedly at your hands folded in your lap.

“Sorry to interrupt your pity party, but I’m here to take you to your room.” You look up in shock, looking for a figure to belong to the voice that you heard.

“My room? But...I thought--”

“What, that Mr. Big-and-Scary was going to keep you locked up in here?” The voice scoffs, and you watch in awe as a pair of keys seem to float through the air and unlock the cell door. “He’s so overly dramatic.”

“Oh my god, I think I’m going crazy,” you mutter to yourself. “I’ve been down here for too long, and I’ve lost my mind.”

“That’s a normal reaction, and it’s one that I had too when all this first happened.” The door opens, yet there’s still no person standing in front of you. “Let’s get you to a more comfortable room to make your own, and then you’ll feel better.”

You stand up from the floor, trying not to run into this mysterious person as you walk out of the cell. “Are you a ghost?”

“No, but that would probably be easier. As far as I can tell, I’m invisible. Almost everybody here is.”

“How many people live here besides you? And how did this happen?” Your head feels like it’s spinning as the invisible person leads you to what you guess is going to be your bedroom, and you almost have to stop to regain your bearings.

“There’s only a few of us, but I feel like you’ve already been through a lot today and anymore information will just make you freak out. Let’s start with an introduction: I’m Mallory.”

“Uh, I’m (Y/N).” If you are going crazy, you might as well play into the delusions your mind has thought up.

“I know!” She’s oddly cheerful considering she’s been turned invisible. “I was the one that led you to Jim in the first place.”

“Oh! Well, thank you for that. He didn’t--he couldn’t stay locked up here. It’s not right, and he needs his support system.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I think it was very brave of you to take his place.”

You breathe out shakily, the memory of Jim’s yells as he was dragged up the stairs fresh on your mind. “What do you call whatever it is that took Jim?”

“Well, to his back, we call him jackass, pompous, arrogant, the reason we’re all trapped here...but to his face, he’s just sir or Shepherd.”

“You’re trapped here?”

“Besides the fact that nobody would be able to believe that an invisible woman was standing in line behind them at the coffee shop? Yeah. We’ve tried many times, but we can’t leave the grounds of this manor.” Mallory laughs bitterly. “You take a job as someone’s assistant one time, and suddenly you’re invisible...oh! Here we are.”

The heavy oak door ahead of you opens, and you follow Mallory’s presence into the room. It’s a beautiful room, with handcrafted furniture made of dark wood, a chandelier on the ceiling, and a cloudy sky that reminds you of the Grand Hall at Hogwarts is painted above you.

“Way better than that little cage, right?”

“Yeah, this is definitely...better than I was expecting.”

“Good! I’ll leave you to get settled, and then I’ll be back later with Miss Cordelia.”

“You promise you’ll be back?” You sound like a little kid bartering with their mother to pick them up after a sleepover, but you can’t help the fear you feel at potentially having to face the beast that rules this home.

“Of course.”

The door shuts with a click, and you can hear footsteps moving away from the door that signifies that Mallory is going to attend to whatever business the invisible members of the household do. Falling back against the large bed, which is much comfier than you care to admit, your body begins to show the signs of fatigue that you had been fighting off for so long. After all, it’s been at least a full day since you set off on your journey to find Jim, and you hadn’t slept at all since then. It’s incredibly easy for your eyes to slip closed, and even easier for you to fall asleep on top of the covers.

//

Duncan sits in his former study, which has been decimated by time and the unbridled rage that becoming this beast has produced. He’s glowering, a not-unusual occurrence lately, with the unwelcome addition of members of his staff refusing to avoid him at a time where his mood is not positive (of course, when has his mood ever been positive since this ordeal began?). Unlike himself, who had long since given up hope of ever reverting back to the life he had before that fateful night, those who were stuck in this curse with him were far more hopeful.

“Sir, this could be the chance that you have been waiting for!” Cordelia, the head of staff whom Duncan has known since he was a boy, says enthusiastically. 

“I highly doubt that this girl is one to fall victim to Stockholm Syndrome; she seems far too capable for that,” Duncan says darkly.

“You also forget that the love has to be genuine on both sides,” a new voice joins the chorus of others. Great. Mallory’s here.

“Let me guess, you gave her a bedroom?”

“Unlike you, I actually want to get out of here.”

Duncan shoots a seething glare in the direction of her voice, but knows it won’t do any good. Mallory’s never been afraid of him. 

“You do have to admit that she’s very pretty,” Nate, the groundskeeper and one of Duncan’s only friends before the curse, chimes in.

“Regardless of how attractive I find her, that doesn’t really matter when I look like this,” Duncan retorts.

“I understand your pessimism towards this situation, but you’ve done nothing to resolve the situation in the five years that we have been stuck like this! I know it’s been a while, but you were quite the ladies’ man,” Cordelia reminds him.

Duncan sighs deeply. “Look, even if I were to attempt to break the curse with this girl--”

“(Y/N),” Mallory interjects.

“I don’t know if I even remember what it’s like to be charming. I haven’t had much practice in that area.”

“So let us help you! You need to woo her.”

“I imprisoned her best friend, and now I’m currently imprisoning her. I don’t think it will be that easy.”

“Why don’t you start small?” Cordelia suggests. “Maybe ask her to join you for dinner?”

“Ask her to join me for dinner...” Duncan ponders. “That’s...actually not that bad of an idea.” He swears he hears Mallory mutter something about him not being able to control his temper, but there’s really nothing he can do in regards to this disrespect.

That’s how Duncan finds himself at his prisoner’s bedroom door, pawlike-fist poised to knock as he prepare to attempt the most dangerous thing he’s ever done: make a girl fall in love with him, and fall in love with her in return.

//

You awake to the same angry voice from earlier at your door. Rubbing your eyes blearily, you attempt to make your brain connect to your ears and process what is being said.

“--why she won’t answer!” You freeze when you realize that it’s the beast from earlier, obviously upset by something. Scrambling off of the bed, you creep towards the door and press your ear against it.

“Maybe she’s asleep. She did have a long day.” A gentler voice accompanies him, and you relax upon hearing the potential ally.

“Um, I--I’m sorry,” you call out hesitantly. “I was sleeping, and I didn’t catch what you said.”

“See?” Someone’s attempting to whisper, but they’re not doing a very good job of it. “You just need to be patient. Now, ask again.”

“Will you...join me for dinner?” He hesitantly asks.

“Oh!” You’re thrown off by this request, and there’s really nothing you’d do less at this moment. “No...no, thank you. I’m not hungry.”

He actually growls, sending shivers down your spine. “You’ll join me for dinner, or I’ll break down this door!”

“Sir, please try to act a little bit like a gentleman,” someone chides softly. 

“And why should I when she’s being so difficult?”

“Gently ask her. She lost her best friend and her freedom, all in such a short period of time.” It does give you a little bit of amusement to hear this bickering at the expense of your kidnapper’s sanity, and you stifle a chuckle.

“(Y/N),” the beast of a man speaks again, softer this time, “it would be my pleasure if you would join me for dinner tonight.” Someone clears their throat, and he tacks on a “please” at the end.

“No,” you say, firmer this time. Why should it be expected for you to go and have dinner with this brute?

“You can’t stay in there forever!” You can tell his blood is boiling by now. Good.

“Yes, I can!” you retort.

“Fine, you can go ahead and starve!” he yells, louder than you’ve ever heard somebody yell at another person before. “If you won’t eat with me, then you won’t eat at all.”

You fall back into a sitting position, staring at the door in alarm. Could he really deny you food? How long would you survive before he decides that he’s had enough of you and kills you?

For the first time since you’ve been locked up in this manor, you let yourself cry.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Roguish Women Part 31

Summary: Kate is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 31: Kate dances again and reunites with Alfie before receiving a promising telegram. 

                       The floor looked freshly polished. Light from the floor to ceiling windows caused the hardwood to gleam. And the floor was so expansive. There was so much space with very little furniture to get in the way. It had been so long since she had space, room to move around, stretch her limbs.

            She’d been raised in the city. A poor girl in a poor neighborhood, Kate was accustomed to the claustrophobic nature of living in the heart of any city. Every day she went to her neighbor’s house and warmed up by pushing the furniture to the walls so she could have enough space to practice. Even then, she often bumped into things.

            Then she auditioned for the ballet company in a studio downtown. One with a proper barre and proper flooring. She had never danced so well.

            When she first danced on stage, it felt like the whole world was hers.

            Then the feeling was taken away and she retreated to her small spaces. A small flat in Paris. A crowded dressing room where she would stretch. The dancefloor packed with dancers and patrons. Her small flat in Birmingham, the banister used as a barre. Then finally back to Boston, ever the familiar feeling of being suffocated.

            Now, she stood in the ballroom of Arrow House. Suddenly, she was offered all this room and for a second she didn’t know how she would fill it all.

            A bit timid, Kate walked in and set her ballet shoes down on the well-kept floor. A gramophone had been brought in, at her request and was waiting in the corner by the windows.

            She went to the gramophone and found a few records piled neatly on the cabinet against the wall. She hadn’t specified exactly what music she wanted, but instead just said anything classical. Shuffling through the records, her heart soared when she landed on Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. Her neighbor would make her practice to the music nonstop, insisting Kate was destined to dance the swan’s role.

            After warming up, Kate carefully tied her shoes, the motion so familiar it was as if she never stopped dancing at all. It wasn’t particularly comfortable getting back into pointe, but she knew she needed to work through the discomfort.

            She returned to the gramophone and started the record. Although she couldn’t remember the number in full, she could pick out a few moves that she recalled. And it seemed the years of dancing at the Moulin Rouge and stretching in her little flats had paid off somewhat. She felt as flexible as she was in her prime. And she had remembered the techniques her neighbor barked at her for hours on end.

            When she felt brave enough, she tried a fouetté. It proved to be a bit too much and she stumbled on a turn. Catching herself, Kate couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at what her neighbor might say if she had been there.

            “Weak! Again! Do it right or do not do it at all!”

            Kate smiled to herself and tried again. It was still shaky, but much better than before. When she stopped, she noticed Tommy was standing in the doorway of the ballroom.

            “Oh, Tom, I thought you were out.” She felt her cheeks go a bit red as she went over to turn off the gramophone.

            “I just got back and heard music in here. I was hoping I could catch a bit of you dancing.” He walked in.

            “I’m really out of practice.” She admitted sheepishly.

            “It looked good to me.” He met her in the middle of the room.

            “That’s because you’re not a trained ballerina.” She reminded him.

            He chuckled. “Yeah, I could never do any of that.” He took her hand. “It’s been a while since I’ve danced.”

            “Did you used to?” Kate could vaguely recall a few moments when she might’ve caught Tommy dancing. For sure, it had to be with Grace. Maybe at the Derby or perhaps even their wedding, but Kate wasn’t too sure. The past seemed such a blur those days.

            “I think the only person who really got me to dance was Greta Jurossi.” He mused.

            “Who was Greta Jurossi?” Kate lifted his arm so she could do a small spin under it.

            He smiled though there was sadness in his eyes. He led her into another spin, wincing a bit at how painful the pointe shoes looked. “She was the first girl I ever loved. I lost her to consumption before I went to the war.”

            “Oh, Tommy, I’m sorry.” It was devastating to know that no matter how well Kate knew him, she still didn’t know the true root of all his pain. It could have been blamed on luck. Maybe his family just had no luck when it came to love. In a way it was hard to understand his persistence. So many times, he’d loved and lost. Yet, he continued to allow himself to explore another relationship.

            “Yeah.” He sighed. “It was a long time ago though.” As per usual, he wasn’t willing to accept sympathy. “I don’t understand how that doesn’t hurt your feet.”

            Kate smiled. “It takes a lot of practice. It’s painful at first but you learn to tolerate it. And soon you don’t feel anything.”

            Tommy nodded absent-mindedly. He had some idea of what that was like.

 ~~~~~~~~~~ 

            “Miss Lynch.” Ollie looked pleased to see the woman walking towards the bakery.

            “Hello, Ollie.” She smiled. “Alfie’s expecting me I hope.”

            “Yeah, you can go right in.” He opened the doors for her.

            Her heels attracted attention from the distillers but when they lifted their heads, they averted their eyes quickly. They would discuss the return of the American woman, but not until she was out of the room and they were absolutely sure Alfie wasn’t near either.

            Alfie smiled when Kate entered his office. “There she is.”

            “Good to see you, Alfie.” She greeted warmly.

            “London ain’t been the same without you, love.” He chuckled and sat down behind his desk after greeting her.

            Cyril trotted up to Kate when she sat too. “Hello, handsome boy,” She cooed and ruffled his ears. “I’ve missed you too, yes I have.”

            “M’glad you’re here safe and sound,” Alfie said with a rare tone of empathy and concern. “’Course no one was more worried than our dear Tommy, but I’m sure he told you that.”

            “Well, I appreciate it. I’m just glad to be home.”

            “So, everything wrapped up back there then?” Alfie posed a question that sounded innocent enough but of course, was meant to pry.

            “I’m guessing Tommy wasn’t too forthcoming on the matter.” She surmised if he was asking for the story.

            “Of course, he didn’t, you know him.”

            Kate sighed. She hadn’t exactly said out loud what specifically happened to anyone. But she trusted Alfie to accept the story for what it was. She understood Tommy had heard enough and telling him more would only further anger him and deepen his guilt.

            “He caught me talking to Tom on the telephone. He started to…he said he was going to kill me. So, I killed him before he had the chance.”

            “How did you leave the scene?” Alfie wasn’t about to clutch his pearls at what she told him. This was his job, and he could get technical about it if he wanted to. And in Kate’s case, he wanted to because he wanted to ensure what she did wouldn’t catch up to her in the future. Of course, if it did, he wouldn’t mind going to arms for her even if it meant having to work alongside Tommy.

            “I made it look like someone had killed him and kidnapped me. That’s what his men think still as far as I know. I have someone there who is going to help spread the rumor and give it some validity.”

            “Clever lass.” Alfie looked proud of her. “Good riddance to ‘im, yeah, fucking deserved it.”

            Kate didn’t look vindicated or happy with herself. “He just…” She picked at her fingernails. Alfie had been a confidante to her in the past, but she wasn’t sure how well he could help with what happened in Boston. She might’ve felt more comfortable speaking with Polly or Ada about the matter, but Tommy’s family was a tricky situation and she didn’t want to complicate things.

            Alfie picked up on her discomfort and knew there were things she hadn’t said that were on the tip of her tongue. “Whatever he did, right, it don’t take away from who you really are.”

            She shook her head. “I just…it’s affecting my relationship with Tommy because I can’t get over happened. And I can’t explain it properly to Tommy because I know he only blames himself even if it wasn’t his fault. I can’t tell him otherwise. So, I feel like, there’s nothing I can do but sit with how I feel.”

            “It don’t help that the fucker’s rotting now?” Alfie asked. Perhaps it varied, but he knew he got a satisfaction whenever he put someone who wronged them in their place. Whether it was metaphorical or Alfie really did put them six feet under.

            Kate shook her head. “I feel it’s something I can’t shake. I-I’ve gotten better about being around Tommy but when I’m with him. I still feel like people can see it on me. I know that makes no sense but people know what happened and I can only assume they can guess the outcome. It’s like they can see it written on my face or something.”

            Alfie frowned; his brow furrowed. “Is he the first man you killed?” He asked, not sure if they’d ever discussed the topic before.

             Kate’s mouth opened slightly. No more lies, there was no point to continue lying. She had come clean to Tommy. “No.” She admitted. Although her death count was very low, probably compared to the men she ran with her entire life, it was still much more than a normal woman. “It’s not about me killing him. I don’t care if people know about that. I care if people know that he-” She tilted her head to the side hoping he would pick up on her hints so she wouldn’t have to say it out loud.

            “He took advantage of you.” Alfie nodded. He could understand Tommy’s anger. Kate had become like a sister to Alfie, he thought very highly of her. And no one messed with Alfie’s family blood related or not.

            Kate wrapped her arms around herself. “You think I’ve been through enough that it wouldn’t bother me.” She tried to laugh bitterly but couldn’t force herself to.

            “Don’t say that, Katie. You can allow yourself to be hurt, right? That fucking monster hurt you and you deserve to be upset. Deserved to kill him too, so don’t ever feel guilty ‘bout that.” He reminded her. “Now, Tommy, he’ll learn to forgive himself. But don’t try to coddle ‘im. You be honest with him.”

            “I will.”           

            “Good, lass. Now, looking to the future, what’s next, aye?”

            “Well, everything’s out in the open now.” She took a deep breath. “So now I’m going to move forward.”

            “You have plans?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Good, so do I.”

~~~~~~~~~

            “Kate?” Tommy caught her coming in through the front door and passing by his study.

            “Hi.” She smiled when she saw him.

            “How was London? Alfie’s well?”

            “Yeah, it was nice to see him again.” She walked into the room to give him a kiss.

            “I’m sure he was happy to see you as well.” Tommy chuckled. “Sure, he was scrambling to make things work when you were gone. You’re crucial to his smuggling operation.”

            “I know, and I make sure he remembers.” She laughed softly, feeling a bit lighter after speaking with Alfie.

            “You’ve a telegram from London.” He sifted through the papers on his desk to hand it to her.

            “Oh, good, I’ve been expecting one.” She took it from him and scanned the typed letter with a nod. “Good.”

            Tommy sat back in his desk chair; his fingers laced over his stomach. “Good news?”

            “Yes, and it pertains to you as well.”

            He raised an eyebrow. “Aye?”

            “While you mend your relationship with your family, you should be looking for allies. Especially since Luca Changretta is still a threat you need to keep mindful of.” She started, proposing the business plan she thought of a few days earlier.

            He nodded. “Okay.” Letting her continue.

            “There’s a gang in London known as the Forty Elephants.”

            A skeptical look began to form on his face. “I’m aware…”

            “I’ve reached out to their leader, Alice. Just to meet up. I think it’s something you should consider. You’re looking for territory in London, looking for allies, and Alfie’s neutral with them.”

            Tommy’s doubt was mixed with amusement. “They’re a petty shoplifting gang.”

            “They’ve chased out four independent gangs in the West End. They were allied with Elephant and Castle but as you know, Sabini’s been getting the upper hand over them recently. I think you need to step in. Alfie’s allied with Elephant and Castle, but if you absorb them and aid the Forty Elephants, you gain control over West End and your tie with Camden Town is much stronger.”

            His mirth faded as he realized Kate was elaborating on a very solid plan. “You’re confident about this?”

            “Very.” She looked pleased that she was getting through to him.

            He smiled and shook his head with a look of awe. “God, I’ve missed your wits.” He said affectionately.

            “It’s good to be able to use my wits again.”

            He chuckled. “Alright, send a telegram back to Alice, tell her I’m willing to meet with her. You’ll be with me, of course.” He arranged. “Now, c’mere.” He grabbed her hand to pull her onto his lap so he could kiss her.

//The title IS Roguish WOMEN. So prepare yourselves my friends. For the forty elephants. 

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe

Tag list: @radical-gecko @actorinfluence @meltingicequeen @merlettina

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[veryberrybrenda]

Thrill

Pairing: Adam x Lucia Langford

Summary: Unit Bravo go undercover at a gala to arrest a changeling, but things take a complicated turn. 

Notes: This is day 4 of Wayhaven Week 2020 by @otomefandomevents

The drive to the gala was filled with Felix’s excited chatter about feeling like he was in a James Bond movie. Lucia couldn’t help but wholeheartedly agree with the feeling herself. Not knowing what will happen next left a thrill in her system that she just couldn’t get anywhere else. However, the mission wasn’t the only source of thrill she felt.

She couldn’t help but notice Adam stealing glances at her from the passenger seat. His eyes would linger a little too long on the slit in her lavender dress, the bare skin of her toned legs making a slight flush appear on his pale cheeks that he tried so hard to hide by staring a thousand yards ahead at the window.

The action only intensified Felix’s amusement. “See something you like there, Adam?” Even in the dim light of the night sky, Felix’s amber eyes seemed to glow in the rear view mirror.

“What I would like is for this mission to go as according to plan,” Adam replied dryly, no emotion in his voice as he dodged the question.

“You didn’t answer his question, Adam,” Lucia added, feeling the full effect of his green-eyed glare. It only served to make her smile wider at the leader’s attempt to regain his composure.

“Fine, you look nice today,” Adam mumbled quietly, words rushed as though he didn’t want her to understand them.

The compliment had her loosening her grip on the steering wheel as she soaked in this rare moment, grin even wider than before. “You’re looking handsome as always.”

Adam whipped his head back to the window so fast that if he wasn’t a vampire, he would’ve broken his neck. She could also hear the sound of Felix trying his best to suppress a chuckle.

After a few minutes, they arrived at their destination. The hotel bustled with guests dressed in the finest clothes entering the hotel for the annual charity banquet. She found an empty parking spot near the side of the lot.

As she killed the engine, Adam tapped on is mic, “We’ve arrived. Is everyone in position?”

“Roger, roger.” The sound came out as clear as day from the small mic in her ear, but it also echoed in the car as she saw Felix giggling at his act of mischief, which had Adam rolling his eyes.

“Focus,” Rebecca snapped, tone reprimanding.  

“Mason and I are in position,” Nate replied through the mic.

“Good, now remember the plan. Nate and Mason will be covering the ballroom making sure that the changelings aren’t posing as guests, while Felix searches the staff, and Adam and Lucia will be checking the rooms. Once you have visual on the targets, don’t let them out of your sight,” Rebecca said sternly. “Immediately call for backup and try your best to prevent guests from seeing anything. Is everyone clear?”

A multitude of responses follow, all signaling that they’re ready. “I’ll be outside in the car monitoring the progress. Now go.” Her mother’s voice ringed of confidence that she hopes isn’t misplaced.

With that, they all exited the car, the warm, humid air settling against Lucia’s tan skin. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress that accumulated during the ride. Her heart sped up when she felt a pair of green eyes tracking her every movement, observing her with a soft expression, lips parted in unsaid words, but it was now her turn to drink the sight of him in.

His dark blue suit was a nice change of color from his usual grey tee and she approved of the way his suit was expertly tailored to the contours of his muscles. Unlike Felix with a black suit and a purple bowtie, Adam sported no such accessory, instead preferring to leave a few buttons undone at the top, exposing the slightest hint of his chest that her fingers ached to touch.

Nate must’ve helped him get ready because no way does that man have enough style sense to leave his buttons like that.

Their gawking observing of each other ended when Felix grabbed both of their hands, excitement making his steps faster as he dragged them towards the bright hotel.

-    

Lucia was almost disappointed that she was away from all the action of the ballroom. She had secretly hoped that Adam would’ve offered her a dance, but she doubted if he was able to dance at all with him being so stiff.

“How many more floors do we have to go through?” She whined, her foot already in pain from her silver heels.

“Just three more.”

She stopped walking and leaned against the wall, causing a concerned look from Adam as he turned back to face her. “Can you give me a second? My feet hurt.”

Adam’s eyes hardened once again, and he released a scoff, “You should’ve worn more appropriate shoes then.”

“That wouldn’t match with my dress,” Lucia countered while taking off her heels.

Disdain flashed on his face. “You are so careless. This mission could be in stake because you decided that some shoes were more important than a mission.” He didn’t hold back on the mocking tone as he continued to stare her down as if she was a child.

Anger was starting to boil inside of Lucia as she marched with her bare feet towards the leader, heels in one hand and the other tightly clenching her clutch. “You out of all people should know that I will sacrifice anything for a mission,” she said with a low, threatening tone that had Adam flinching, a look of pain flashing on his face at the painful memory.

Lucia immediately regret saying those words. The images of Adam lying limply in her arms with burn marks covering his body filled her mind. She had followed his orders, but every ounce of her regretted the choice.

“I’m sorry, Adam.” Shame filled her black eyes as she took in his coiled muscles that would have broken a piece of furniture by now. “I didn’t mean-.”

“No,” he interrupted her, face morphing back to his stoic mask. “You’re right. You follow orders and that’s all I require of you.” Adam said the words with such cold that had Lucia flinching, heart aching in her chest.

As Adam was about to turn away, his eyes suddenly widen, nose sniffing the air. Lucia quickly strapped her heels back on as she followed the vampire to the door at the end of the hall. His eyes are closed in concentration as he stands in front of the metal door. “I count two voices in there,” he whispered, careful to not to alert the changelings.

She nods, both of them putting a little distance from the room as she taps on the mic in her ear. “We found two inside room 135. Sixth floor.”

“Good work. Do not engage until the others arrive. Is that understood, Lucia?”

Lucia didn’t appreciate how her mom aimed that statement directly at her. “Yes ma’am,” she said with a sigh.

“Be careful.” Rebecca meant for it to sound like a command, but it came out softer than she expected.

“I will, Mom,” Lucia replied.

With that, her mic went quiet. She took a deep breath, calming her nerves. “So, what do we do now?” Her eyes on the team leader.

“We make sure they don’t leave,” he says, eyes still on the door.

“Okie-dokie artichokie.”

Adam’s lips formed into a small smile that was gone in an instant, making Lucia debate if it was even there in the first place.

The door to the room suddenly opened and Adam instantly took his place in front of her, shielding her from danger. Two men emerged staring at them with confusion. One man had light brown hair and tan skin, wearing a brown suit with a black tie, while the other man had black hair and pale skin, wearing a grey suit with a matching black tie.

If Lucia acts now, they may still have the upper hand since their cover hasn’t been blown yet. She stepped out from behind Adam, which was received with a glare from him, but she ignored it, plastering on the most charming smile she could muster. “Oh, hi there, my boyfriend and I.” She wrapped an arm around Adam’s waist, muscles tense under her touch. “Are just wondering what’s the best club to go to after this amazing party.” She placed her right hand on her hip, just above the slit in her dress, where her stun gun was conveniently hidden in her thigh holster. She only hoped that her nervousness hadn’t slipped that much into her voice.

The black-haired man narrowed his eyes at her, and she could hear her heart hammering inside her chest. “Have I seen you somewhere before? You look very familiar.”

“I’ve been told I have the type of face that looks like a lot of people. Maybe you’re confusing me with someone else with lavender hair.” This time, Lucia couldn’t control her nerves anymore and her voice came out too high-pitched to sound natural.

The brown-haired man’s eyes widen, and Lucia knew she was fucked. “You’re the agent with the special blood!”

She pulled out her stun gun as Adam charged at the brown-haired man. Upon seeing his companion struggling, the black-haired man decided it was best to flee while he still can and rushed past Lucia, dodging all of her shots.

Without thinking, she raced down the hall to catch up with the man, heels slowing her down, silently praying that her gun would recharge faster. Lucia rejoiced when she heard the familiar beep of her gun, signaling it was ready for action.

I got you now.

She fired all her shots and the man dropped like a stone to the ground right as he was about to reach the stairs. Satisfied with her work, she went back to check on her teammate.

Upon arriving, confusion took hold of her mind as she stared at two Adams fighting each other. Their limbs were so entangled that if she fired, she might risk hitting the real Adam.

One looked up at her, relief in his eyes. “Shoot him, he’s the real changeling!” A punch from the other Adam sends him tumbling into the wall, leaving a nasty dent.

“He’s lying. He’s the fake one!” the other Adam hissed, dodging a kick.

If Lucia shoots the real Adam, then the changeling would escape. There was a fifty-fifty chance she would get it right.

Another idea popped into her head. If I shoot them both, no one escapes, and I can wait for the others to arrive to figure out which one is the real Adam.

She steadies her breathing and raises her gun. I’m so sorry Adam.

She fires.

-

Adam’s eyes open to a white ceiling. Twisting his head, familiar grey walls signal that he’s in his room. Looking down at himself, he sees that he’s still wearing his blue suit with the addition of a few scuff marks.

“You’re finally awake.” Standing in the doorway is the Detective, feet bare, still in her dress that accentuated her curves and looking effortlessly beautiful. “I know that a stun gun can’t actually hurt you, but it still worried me.” A nervous laugh escapes her mouth as she makes her way over to him. Adam’s body instinctively sits up to make room for her on his bed.

She plops down on the bed, hands running through her curls as she gazes at him, eyes full of guilt. “I’m sorry I shot you. It was the only way to make sure the changeling didn’t escape.”

His lips thinned into a frown as he took in her words. How could she be sad when she did what any competent agent would do? She put the mission first. Something that he has trouble doing now ever since she entered his life.

Without him even realizing what he was doing, his hand reached out to take hers. A smile formed on her lips at the touch that had Adam’s heart skipping a few beats. “You did what was necessary for the mission and I couldn’t be more proud,” Adam confessed, truth backing every word. “We did catch both of them, right?” A little worry in his words as his shoulder tensed.

A giggle escaped from her lips. “Of course. They’re both being interrogated in the facility right now.”

“Good.” Adam didn’t know if it was the thrill of a successful mission or the sound of Lucia’s laugh, but his heart felt lighter than it usually did.

[clan-sayeed-fic]

Let me earn your trust (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios) Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they're the property of Pixelberry Studios as well) Warnings: angst, strong language, violence (a lot)  Rating: Mature Author's note:  I'm not a native English speaker, I'm sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

I decided to combine two chapters (which actually had been one chapter before I split it, don't ask why haha) since they felt too short. I will look over the next ones and maybe do the same with them. ~ 1900 words

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

Chapter 5

It has been three months since Priya's party.

Amy and Lily finally had found a permanent place to work. They worked as waitresses there, so not much had changed. But in the last three months, they didn't have to worry about too low income. They could pay off their debts and live more freely.

Each week their restaurant was sending everyone to an enormous party in the center of New York.

Both girls were ready in their uniforms provided by the restaurant. They were waiting for the event to start, staying by the wall.

"I love this time of the week," Lily squealed happily.

"Because you can get a free bottle of champagne after work?" Amy asked with a broad smile.

"Exactly!" Lily almost shouted. "You know me so well."

The hall was full of festively decorated tables. Ornamental chandeliers were shining bright under the ceiling. It was snowy outside, which added a calming mood to the evening.

All waitresses were standing in line, waiting for the guests to arrive. Each of them had their table to handle. When people of an upper-class appeared, gradually fewer waitresses were standing against the wall.

Amy's quests arrived at the same time as Lily's.

Amy stopped breathing when she recognized a tall, impossibly sexy woman making her way to the girl's table. She was wearing a long, maroon dress well fitted to her body, exposing her slim shape. Her long, straight hair fell on her opened back. Jewelry on her neck and wrist shined brighter than chandeliers. She wasn't alone. Behind her entered the man in a black suit matching his dark hair.

Amy reached for Lily's hand, turning her face to face. Her best friend could tell that something was not right.

"Whoa, what is it?" Lily looked over her shirt, making sure that it's not dirty.

"Can we switch our tables for tonight?" Amy asked with hope in her eyes.

"Why? They are side by side," she wondered, flash growing in her eyes, "is she here?"

Lily turned around to see Kamilah sitting at the table with Adrian.

"Oh dear, she IS HOT," Lily almost shouted before Amy calmed her.

"Sis, please," Amy looked at her with pleading eyes.

"All right, if you wanna exchange these fancy people for some jerks, feel free," Lily made a gesture lifting her arms, showing her surrender.

"Thank you so much," Amy hugged her quickly.

Finally, they appeared at each table. Amy's eyes met for a moment with Kamilah's gaze while she was walking past her chair. The woman seemed shocked by Amy's presence at the party but quickly composed herself, turning all her attention back to Adrian.

Amy stopped at her table, taking a quick look at the quests. Four men were sitting there, talking loudly. All of them wearing impossibly expensive suits.

"Good evening, I'm Amy, I will be your server for tonight." She said with a soft smile when they finished their conversation.

She could hear Lily's voice as she introduced herself to the guests.

"What would you like to start with?" the soft smile never leaving Amy's face.

"Right now, I can't think of anything to eat," one of the men said, he looked unceremoniously over Amy's body, smiling to his friends.

Amy felt anger building inside unusual for her. I'm used to this type of client, what's wrong with me right now, she asked herself.

She tried to keep her emotions in check.

"Why don't you start with a glass of champagne so you can rethink the order," smile faded from her face.

Amy began filling their glasses with champagne. When she moved to the last one, she could feel a small touch of the fingers on her calf, making its way up her leg. Amy stepped back instantly, almost spilling champagne all over the table.

"I suggest you keep your hands to yourself," she scowled furiously.

She didn't want to make a scene. She could feel people staring around her.

I can't lose this job, she thought.

"Is everything alright?" Lily approached, her eyes sparkled with fury.

Amy could tell that Adrian and Kamilah were looking in her direction. She could feel goosebumps growing on her skin because of both: shame and anger at the same time.

"It's all right, my guests simply need more time to make an order," she said through gritted teeth, not wanting a public argument.

Lily gently pulled Amy back, out of sight.

"We can switch back if you want to," Lily's eyes filled with concern.

They were still standing too close to Kamilah's and Adrian's table. Amy remembered what she found out about them. If she was right, these creatures had impossibly good hearing.

"No, we can't," she spoke mostly to herself, "I can handle them."

"Of course you can, girl," Lily encouraged her with a small pat on Amy's back.

***

After over an hour, waitresses were about to take empty plates from their tables before the dessert.

Amy approached her table, men were absent, probably dancing on the parquet. It didn't make her upset for sure, so she started gathering the plates. Then, she heard a conversation from the table next to her.

"Did you enjoy your meal? "Lili tried to make a good impression.

"It was delicious," Adrian said, "please, tender our compliments to the chef."

Lily was thrilled. Adrian had his way to make people feel useful. Kamilah was sitting there as opposed to him, lost in her thoughts.

"What about you, ma'am," Lily pushed, making Kamilah lift her gaze.

"It was nice," she answered, and when she saw Lily's mouth were about to open again, she added, "although I would change a waitress to less talkative."

Amy opened her eyes wide, hearing this talk from behind. She could already predict Lily's reaction.

"Wow," Lily inhaled deeply, "you truly are cheeky."

"Excuse me?" Kamilah raised her eyebrow, staring into Lily's eyes like she was planning to kill her instantly.

Amy left the plates and moved quickly to Lily, holding her by her arm.

"Please, forgive my friend," she squeezed Lily's arm, meaningfully, "she can be a total blabbermouth."

Amy tried to drag Lily out of the hall, but a deep, sharp voice stopped her before she could even take a step.

"No, I would like to hear it," Kamilah's eyes sent Lily a threat.

"I don't think that is such a good idea, Kamilah," Adrian tried to calm the woman.

"She was brave enough to start, she should be brave enough to finish it," Amy saw a flint of red in the woman's eyes.

"Oh, I'm brave," Lily said, shaking with anger, "no one will treat my bestie like that."

Kamilah's gaze suddenly eased when she turned to Amy. The woman frowned, not knowing what to say.

"I..." Amy wanted to explain it to her, but Kamilah raised her hand, stopping the girl.

"Both of you should go, do your job," her voice came back to normal like she didn't care.

Lily wanted to add something, but Amy held her back.

"It's a long night, Lily, we should go back to work," she whispered convincingly.

While they distanced themselves, Amy could still hear a small part of the conversation.

"What was that about?" Adrian asked.

"I'm asking myself the very same question, my friend," Kamilah's voice vanishing as Amy was further away from the table.

***

The end of the party was foreseen around midnight. That was the longest event that Amy and Lily worked at. They were both exhausted. At the same time, they knew that the effort was worth it.

Waitresses gathered in a line, ready to clean after guests. Some of them had already left, so the hall was less crowded.

When the last quests stood up, Amy felt a blast of cold air. Her whole body began to tremble.

No, it's not happening, she thought, looking around.

She looked at Kamilah and Adrian, who reacted similarly to her, turning around confused.

In that second, the front doors cracked open, and Amy saw a horror scene happening before her eyes. The hall was filled with running and screaming, looking like people, creatures. The lights went down. Everyone around her was panicking, shouting, running away.

Amy tried to reach Lily's hand, but she was nowhere to find. She turned around, looking for her, but there was not a soul in sight.

The only things she saw were red eyes.

A lot of them.

***

Amy followed everyone out of the hall.

She could see in her mind creatures with red eyes, long fangs, moving at an enormous speed. She saw humans being torn apart by monsters. Blood running down the walls was still before her eyes. Screams echoed in her mind as she kept running ahead.

Her eyes glowed from fear, but she didn't have time to think about it. She needed to find Lily. She needed to make sure that she was safe.

Finally, Amy found herself outside of the building, feeling the fresh air on her skin, calming her. She looked around, searching for her best friend. People were crying from pain, she could see how many of them were wounded.

Amy run her eyes over the crowd. She could hear the ambulance and police coming. But no signs of the girl.

"Lily!" she shouted loudly, the panic was taking over.

She asked if anyone saw a young, average height woman with unique, purple hair with a dark complexion. Negative.

Fuck.

She had no choice. She needed to come back. Amy was running faster this time, after a minute reaching the doors to the hall.

Inside, she saw things moving fast. Some of the monsters were leaning over their victims, sucking their blood. Others were damaging the furniture, shattering glasses.

In the center of the hall, she saw Adrian and Kamilah fighting with attackers. She saw them ripping their hearts and heads apart. Her legs begin to shake, she couldn't concentrate, everything around seemed blurry, awfully red.

That's when something in her mind woke up. She sensed danger beyond the monsters that she could already see around. She looked on her left when were the doors to the kitchen. After a moment, the doors opened, and another few monsters walked out, holding wooden stakes in their hands.

Kamilah and Adrian were too preoccupied fighting to see this new threat approaching them from behind.

Amy acted without thinking, running closer to the center. She needed to distract monsters before the attack.

"Hey!" she shouted towards them, but it was too noisy, and their attention was directed to Kamilah and Adrian.

Think, Amy, she scolded herself.

Within a second, she reached for the shattered glass. She cut her wrist without hesitation.

And that got the attention of everyone.

"Come on then," she yelled, bleeding from the wound.

The monsters moved quickly into her direction. That gave Adrian and Kamilah a chance to deal with them while they were distracted by the smell of blood. Both of them ripped hearts from a few of the monsters, while one of them had enough time to get to Amy.

He pinched her against the wall showing his fangs. His grip was too solid, there was nothing she could do to escape.

Rage burned inside of Amy, making her eyes glow more than ever.

"Choke on it," she dared.

All she could feel after that was a tremendous pain like someone was tearing her apart. The monster bit her wrist, sucking greedily.

She could see through a blur as someone pulled the monster away from her.

Her body heavy hit the floor.

Next chapter: 6

[sudoscience]

New In Town Ch 1: New In Town

Originally posted on AO3, but I’m posting it here now in case that helps more people read it. I think you should still read it on AO3, though, because there’s additional formatting, as well as my notes. (If you’re one of the people who already read this on AO3, there’s nothing new here, except a reminder that the story is on indefinite hiatus until I become sufficiently motivated to resume writing.)

Summary: A human moves to Hometown and is offered a job by Asgore despite never having worked for a florist before.

Stepping off the bus was bittersweet. I was leaving many friends behind, but also a lot of stress. Basically, it was better for everyone if I got as far away from my hometown as possible. Ironically, I ended up in a town literally named Hometown. They say monsters used to be able to use magic, but I guess that was at the cost of being able to come up with creative names. Well, that's not entirely fair: humans can't use magic, either, and most of our cities are named after the first person to move there or a nearby geographic feature. Case in point: my hometown of Twin Falls, named for a pair of waterfalls to the south.

Anyway, I'm hopeful things will work out. Remkis has a cousin who lives here, but she'll be staying with him until he gets better. Meanwhile, I guess I'm apartment-sitting for her. God, poor Remkis. He really isn't doing well, but the last thing he needs in his condition is a surprise visit from the MEU, and every minute I spend with him feels like it increases the chances of that happening exponentially.

The funny thing is, I'm staying in his cousin's apartment even though I've never actually met her. She must have decided any friend of Remkis was a friend of hers, but I have to imagine she must think I'm a terrible friend, abandoning him at a time like this. Hell, I can't even remember her name. I guess we'll have to formally introduce ourselves whenever she gets back.

Remkis's cousin (I'll just call her RC until her name comes to me) has a fairly minimalist style. The apartment walls are all but bare, and there's not much furniture. It's so empty, it feels almost like a prison cell. I hope I'm not overstepping any boundaries, but I'm going to need something to look at if I'm going to be living here. I can see a flower shop from the balcony of the apartment; maybe I can kill two birds with one stone and send some flowers to Remkis while I'm there. I know I said I wanted to get as far away as possible, but Hometown isn't really that far from Twin Falls, maybe about a day's drive, so shipping some flowers there hopefully won't be out of the question.

---

The monster that runs the flower shop is intimidatingly huge, yet it's hard to be frightened as he hums a little tune while watering his flowers. Assuring me he has almost finished, he shakes the watering can slightly before turning around to say, "Howdy! How can I..." He seems startled when he sees me. I suppose I can't blame him; Hometown is a rarity, a settlement populated entirely by monsters. When humans do come by, it's almost never a good sign.

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't know there was another human in town. How can I help you?"

His voice is deep and rich, inflected with a Southern drawl, and his clothes are plain and caked in potting soil. Despite his attire, there's something about his manner, or perhaps merely his stature, that gives him an almost regal air. Maybe I just think that because the shop is called "Flower King", but I feel like that's not the only reason.

"Yes," I reply, "I was hoping to buy..." My voice trails off while my brain suddenly realizes what he has just said. "I'm sorry, did you just say another human?"

"That's right. It's mostly monsters here, but my wife, er, my ex-wife and I have adopted a human child. I guess you haven't met them yet. They usually keep to themselves, anyway, but they're a good kid. A little on the quiet side, but...

"Oh, how rude of me! I've been talking to you all this time, and I haven't even offered you a cup of tea. Would you like a cup of tea?"

"No, thanks," I say, noting that my refusal almost seems to break his heart. "Not right now," I quickly add, "but maybe later." He looks a little happier at that. "Actually, I just moved here from Twin Falls. I was hoping to spruce up my apartment a little, and maybe send some flowers to my friends back home."

"I think I can help you with that. With the flowers, at least. I'm afraid I don't sell any evergreens," he replies, chuckling. What is it with monsters and puns? He turns back to the wall and produces a beautiful arrangement of flowers of all colors with a single golden flower at the center, raised slightly above the others. "Here we are! These are for your apartment. My treat!"

"Really?" I say incredulously.

"It's my pleasure! Now, as for shipping the flowers to Twin Falls... I'll need some time to think about that. I can go ahead and make the arrangement for you, but I'm not really sure about the transportation. I suppose I could just take them there myself when I get the chance..."

"Oh, no! Please, you don't have to do that," I tell him. I try to make it sound like I simply don't want to impose on him, but I think he picks up on the fear in my voice. Monsters, especially this florist, may look tough, but they're all terribly fragile; even someone of his size could likely be taken down by a child wielding a stick.

"Young man, I can take care of myself."

"When was the last time you went to Twin Falls, Mister... you know, I don't think I caught your name."

"Asgore Dreemurr, at your service!" he says with a slight flourish. "And to answer your question..." He gestures towards me, prompting me to give him my own name.

"Rudy. Rudy Tonofreni."

"Oh, ho! I won't have any trouble remembering that! My best man was also named Rudy. Well, to answer your question, Rudy, the last time I visited Twin Falls was... Let's see here..." He begins to mumble to himself as he tries to remember. "Oh. Oh my, it really has been a while. I haven't been to Twin Falls since a little after we adopted Kris."

"They've always had more than their share of MEU fanatics, but things have really gotten worse since that scumbag Ullman got elected mayor. He's all but encouraging them."

"MEU?" Asgore asks.

"Oh, sorry. I guess not everyone calls them that. They're really called the Arcane Enforcement Unit, but my friends and I call them the Monster Execution Unit because that's really their goal, even though they're all too cowardly to admit it. They all think they're doing the world some big favor, assaulting monsters who are just trying to get by like everyone else. It's sickening."

"Ah. Believe me, I'm familiar with the AEU, Rudy. I understand your concern, but--"

"No, I don't think you do understand," I say, my voice rising. "It's bad there. Really bad. They're not just going after monsters anymore. They're going after humans they think are "monster sympathizers". They're targeting monsters that are known to interact with humans, and the police, they're just letting it happen. Some of them are in on it, I think. I had to leave so they wouldn't hurt my friends, but it's probably already too late. The last thing I want is for someone else, someone I've just met, to get hurt because of me. I can't let that happen, okay? So, please... Just forget I even asked." My voice begins to break.

"Ah. I'm sorry, Rudy. I can see this is very upsetting to you. Perhaps we can work something else out. In fact, I just remembered I have a friend in Twin Falls who owes me a favor. I'm sure Arsenia would be more than happy to help us out."

Arsenia. Why does that name sound so familiar?

"Now," Asgore continued, "is there anything else I can help you with?"

Still trying to place that name while settling down from my outburst, I manage to say, "I think I'll take that tea now." Really, though, where have I heard that name before?

"Really?" He sounds positively delighted. "I'll be right back!"

I begin to ponder the fact that the whole time I've been here, I haven't seen any other customers. Well, it's a small town, after all; there can't be that much demand for flowers. Suddenly, the realization dawns on me, just as Asgore returns with the tea: Arsenia is Remkis's cousin!

"Here we are!" Asgore says as he sets down two cups of golden flower tea. "This is my absolute favorite tea. It's very soothing, but, ah, it's also very hot. Please be careful."

"Thank you," I say. "I just realized something, Asgore."

"What is it?"

"You can't ask Arsenia to get the flowers for me."

"Rudy, I appreciate how concerned you are, but, really, Arsenia is quite capable of defending herself."

"It's not that. Arsenia and her cousin were the ones I wanted to send the flowers to."

"Oh, I see. Well, that certainly won't do, then. I suppose you were right after all. I should just forget about it, but I'll be quite disappointed knowing there's someone out there not getting the flowers they need. Well, you can't please everybody. That's a lesson I've learned the hard way.

"Anyway, why don't you tell me more about yourself, Rudy?"

"I'm not sure there's much left to be said." I know I shouldn't be nervous, but I've never really liked opening up about myself, and I've already told him a lot about my personal life that I was hoping to keep, well, personal.

"What do you do for a living?"

Oh my god. I know I couldn't stay in Twin Falls, but I really should have at least arranged for employment before leaving everything behind. I laugh nervously as I reply, "Funny story about that, actually. I, uh, I don't... I'm un-... I have no idea. I mean, I used to work in a convenience store, but I didn't even think about looking for a new job before I moved here. Say, you don't know anyone that's hiring, do you?"

"How would you like to work here?" Asgore says with a big grin.

Oh, man. It's basically a fact of life that monsters make friends almost too easily, but it's still a little weird to be offered a job from someone I just met. Hesitantly, I start to tell him I don't know the first thing about flowers, but we're interrupted when the door opens. A young child in a green and yellow sweater comes in, a mop of shaggy brown hair covering their eyes.

"Kris!" Asgore exclaims, picking the child off the ground in a big hug. Setting him back down, Asgore says, "Kris, I want you to meet my new employee, Rudy! They'll be helping out around the store." Kris might have glanced in my direction, but it's hard to tell with their eyes obscured; they otherwise don't seem to react.

I notice that Asgore has apparently already hired me, even though I haven't yet accepted his offer. "H-hold on, Asgore. I'm going to need some time to think about this. I'm not really sure yet if this is what I want to do."

"Oh, of course..." Asgore says sheepishly. "Take as much time as you need." I think I catch a telltale smirk on Kris's face. I get the impression this might not be the first time Asgore has hired somebody on the spot.

Kris turns to leave, but Asgore stops them to give them a bouquet of flowers. "Here, Kris. For your mother." The youth takes the flowers and leaves wordlessly. I suppose that was the only reason they came by.

"Real chatterbox, huh?" I say to Asgore.

"They weren't always that way. I think they're still getting used to their big brother being off at college. If you get the chance, maybe you could talk to them. I think they could really benefit from knowing they're not the only human in town anymore. Well, I suppose you're a good bit older than them, but still..."

"Sure. It'd probably be good for me, too. Well, I guess it's time I get out of your fur. Thank you again for the flowers. And the tea." Quietly, I add, "And the job."

"The pleasure's all mine," Asgore says. "You're welcome to come back any time."

"Oh, I just might," I say as I walk out the door.

---

If everyone in Hometown is as friendly as Asgore, I don't think I'll have much trouble adjusting. Part of me still can't stop thinking about Remkis, though. I think about giving him a call, but there's a nagging feeling that it would be better if I didn't. It might end up making things even harder for him.

Remkis would probably get a kick out of the idea of me working at a florist, though. I'm definitely not the artistic type. The flowers Asgore gave me are a welcome addition to my still otherwise empty apartment; anything I made would probably make me wish it was still barren. Of course, my wallet is almost as empty as this apartment. I'm going to need a paying job pretty soon. Maybe I could be Asgore's delivery driver or something instead.

On the other hand, that grocery store also seemed to have a pretty barebones staff. Heh, I'll have to remember to tell that to the skeleton working there. I'd probably be a better fit there, but I almost feel like I owe it to Asgore to work for him. If he wants me to help Kris, it would almost certainly be easier to do so if I worked at his store. Besides, Sans seems friendly enough, but I can't help feeling there's something... off about him. Maybe it's just that he doesn't seem as trusting as the other monsters, which is probably a smart move on his part, but it definitely sets him apart. Plus, I get the sense that I'd be doing his job on top of mine.

Seems like Flower King is my best choice for now. I think I'll sleep on it before calling up Asgore, though.

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