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wobblesthecowgirl · 6 months ago

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I'm No O’Driscoll!

Chapter Two: Six Point Cabin

Tags: Arthur Morgan x Femreader, enemies to lovers, O'Driscoll reader, game plot, Arthur doesn't have tuberculosis, eventual smut, age difference, 18+, mild gore

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Hello again! Chapter two is a lot longer and we are kinda getting into it. I know Arthur and reader hate each other but you can't rush enemies to lovers!

Chapter One

Chapter Three

Days had gone by and Y/n hadn’t eaten a proper meal. In fact, she wouldn’t have had anything if it wasn’t for Mary-Beth feeding both her and Kieran scraps of food when the other gang members weren’t looking. Y/n always made sure to thank her, repaying her kindness with respect. She doesn’t have to do that, but she’s got a good heart.

Arthur and Dutch had tried asking about Colm a few more times but without being fed, the two O’Driscoll’s were too tired to respond (that and Y/n was too suborn. She hated this gang as much as the other one). Today however, seemed much different.

It was sunny, a light breeze and the birds were chirping, it would’ve been a calming day if it wasn’t for the predicament. Arthur strode towards the two of them and stood in between the two trees. When she was tied up, the gang made sure Kieran and Y/n couldn’t reach one another, their feet being only a foot apart from each other.

“When is this going to end…” Kieran whined as Arthur got to them, not ready for another day of questioning and torture.

“You both got some speaking to do of your own, about that old gang of yours.” He folded his arms like he always did, which Y/n rolled her eyes at. Here we go again.

Kieran was standing again, whereas she couldn’t, her thigh slightly better but due to her condition, it was healing slower than it should. Kieran groaned, “I said I told you. I don’t know nothing.”

Arthur shook his head, the tiny rope on his hat swung with it, “That’s what I thought.”

Dutch came striding over, his voice cheerful and booming, causing the woman to jump.

“Hold your horses there! It seems the cat has got our friend’s tongue’s.” He stood with Arthur, with a bigger guy before continuing, “I was thinking Mr Williamson could have a word.”

Y/n eyed him carefully; she had been trying to get as much information on everyone, being sat doing nothing makes you people watch. She was sure this guy was called Bill. He had a creepy grin on his face and pointed at Kieran.

“We can start with you. You ready to talk, boy?”

“I told you mister, I told all of you. I don’t know nothing, ok?” He sighed, “Th-They ain’t no friends of mine. I just been ridin’ with them for a while.”

Bill interrupted him, his spit flying out his mouth, “Bullshit! You’re close with this O’Driscoll, and you told us you weren’t close with any of them! So how about you tell us the truth.” He turned to the gang’s leader, “Dutch, what do you want me to do?”

Y/n’s heart dropped. This interrogation session was different than the others, it was much more sinister.

“Hurt him. So the next time he opens his mouth, it is to tell us what is going on.” Dutch’s mouth was twisted into a sly smile, his voice dripping with ill intent.

“Who am I kidding? One of the O’Driscoll’s boys couldn’t open his mouth, but he’d tell a lie.” He got in Kieran’s face before turning to Bill, “Screw it. Let’s just have some fun,” He made a cutting motion with his fingers, “geld him.”

Bill cheered as Y/n pulled at her restraints, “No! You get away from him!” She screamed as Dutch laughed down at her.

“Maybe you’ll talk for him!”

“What’s he doing? Where’s he going?” Her friend panicked, watching Bill bring a pair of long tongs from the fire.

Arthur hadn’t said anything, only stood watching the scene unfold before him, waiting to see who would crack first.

“Oh, don’t worry. They’re only balls boy! Just gonna cause you trouble.” Dutch began to ramble about Rome but the two hostages weren’t listening, instead watching Bill cheerfully make his way over. Kieran’s trousers and pants were then pulled down, and Y/n made sure to look up, in attempts to save the poor boy’s dignity.

“No, no, no, no! You’re kidding right?” Kieran cried, trying to back away but the tree blocked him.

“You disgusting pigs!” Y/n snapped, still wriggling and kicking, her thigh screaming at her to stop.

“You sick bastards! What do you want from me!” Even Kieran was swearing now, fear causing him to sweat profusely.

“Well, you are going to talk. The only question is now, or after we get these little fellas off?” The three men were surrounding Kieran. The pair of tongs getting closer, yet he still wasn’t cracking.

“Ok! I’ll tell you!” Y/n shouted; she couldn’t sacrifice her friend getting hurt over a gang who didn’t even realise they were missing. All the men turned to her, the weapon getting a bit further away from him.

“Six point cabin.” She stated, and when they looked at her she sighed, “That’s where the O’Driscoll’s are. That’s where Colm is lying low.”

The men seemed satisfied, as Bill shouted at Kieran, “Why didn’t you tell us that first, boy?”

“I didn’t know the location!” He whimpered, still keeping an eye of Bill’s hand, and trying to cross his legs.

“But I know where that is! I can take you there. I don’t like him. I mean, I like him even less than I like you. No offence.”

“Oh, none taken.” Dutch cackled. Arthur finally joined in on the conversation. He leant down to Kieran and said, “Ok then, partner. Why don’t you and your friend take a few of us up there. Right now.” He untied Kieran who quickly pulled his trousers up, and Arthur approached Y/n.

“I ain’t helping you!” She spat, her not shot leg kicking out in protest. She could hear him grumbling as he untied her, and when she refused to stand, he grabbed her bicep and forced her up. His grip was purposefully strong, but she couldn’t focus on that, instead, she focused on the fact that she couldn’t stand or walk properly. Being sat for days on top of her wound made her useless.

“I got this, Dutch. Should be fun.” He reassured his leader before turning his attention back to her, “Alright you, come on. Can you walk?”

“What does it look like?” She gritted her teeth, limping slowly to what she assumed was his horse after watching him ride to camp on it. She could feel him chuckling behind her, “Well at least I ain’t gotta worry about you running away.”

Another snide remark from this man and I’ll kill him on pure adrenaline and a pocketknife.

Kieran jogged over to the best of his ability to help her, but she held her hand up to stop him. She didn’t want to appear weaker than what she already did, and if the two kept acting close, the gang would use that against them like how they already did.

“Let’s hope you both ain’t trying to trick us, O’Driscolls.” Arthur warned.

“We ain’t no O’driscoll.” Kieran corrected which only caused the older man to snap back, “But you sure as shit was.” After that, he called for John and Bill to tag along, and Kieran gave them the directions.

“John, you take this little rattlesnake with you. Any nonsense, kill him.”

John nodded, pointing to his horse so Kieran could hop on.

“Don’t do anything rash.” Y/n called out to him as John sat on the front of his horse. Kieran nodded at her as if to say ‘same to you’.

“You’re with me, woman.” Arthur got on his horse, and looked down at her. She looked up and from this angle, she could see how his stubble was neatly kept and his moustache was slightly longer. His eyes were light and the were small scars dotted across his cheek.

I can’t wait to put a bullet through his head.

She grabbed the saddle but winced when she shifted her weight to her bad leg. With a grunt, Arthur extended his hand which only caused her to raise her chin at him.

“You can put your filthy hand away, I don’t need your help.”

“Well, it sure looks like you do. Stop being so stubborn, girl.”

“I hope you drop dead on this mission.” She spat, pulling herself up in an awkward manner, seating behind him with as much distance as she could get. Why does he have to have the biggest horse known to mankind?

“Are they taking us to Colm?” John asked as the three horses galloped out the camp and through the trees that gave comforting shade to the summer’s sun.

“Look, I-I-I’ll give you more directions when we’re close, but if I know where we are, it’s up past Valentine.” Kieran strutted as John moved further up for the rest of them to follow. Y/n tuned out the men the entire ride there, all she heard was talk about throwing knives, O’Driscolls, and horse shit. Instead, she watched the dust kick up from the hooves of the horses, the leaves blowing in the wind, and the occasional people passing by.

Arthur asked Bill if he still had the tongs, to which he replied with the fact he had a knife.

“Keep that in mind, young fella.” He yelled at Kieran, “Right in the forefront of it.”

“What about the woman?” Bill asked; Y/n saw him shrug.

“I’ll just shoot her other leg. I doubt she’ll get far.” His voice found humour in this, and she could only grit her teeth at how helpless she was. She was stronger than this, much stronger, and these idiots didn’t even know it.

“It’s passed these hills. Better get there before I get your gun.” She threatened and couldn’t help her smirk as she saw him instinctively reach for his holster. They stopped their horses at the clearing and planned to reach the cabin from foot. Arthur got off first and looked at her, wondering if she was going to ask for help. Of course she didn’t. Instead, she swung her leg over and jumped down, falling to her knees from the sudden impact. She kept her pained cries inside, only earning a small grunt. Kieran made his way over and helped her back on her feet, which this time she didn’t push him away. When she was steady, Kieran began to walk towards the cabin’s location.

“There’ll be a bunch of fellers hiding out there too.” Kieran stated as the group were crouched behind a log, peering into the woods. A couple of men were further than the rest, taking a toilet break against a tree.

“Are these fellas armed?” Arthur asked.

“Armed. Drunk. Wary of strangers.” Kieran nodded.

“And Colm O’Driscoll?”

“Most likely.” Y/n intervened, “Probably passed out sleeping soundly. After a day of bossing people to their deaths.”

The three O’Driscoll’s continued to talk to one another as Dutch's group tried to conduct a plan. The O’Driscoll’s got close, so John grabbed Kieran and covered his mouth with a gun to his head. Arthur did the same. His giant, calloused hands roughly gripped Y/n face to silence her, the other hand on her shoulder. She could feel his breath on her ear, but she didn’t move a muscle. Not because she was scared, but because doing so would be pointless. If she screamed, either John would shoot her, or her former gang mates would.

“I’m gonna let go of you now, if you so much as move an inch, I’m shooting you in the head this time.” He whispered in her ear, as she stifled a grunt, her eyebrows knitted together. He slowly let go, making sure she didn’t move, and began making his way over to the enemy with his throwing knife, stabbing all three with Bill. John turned to Kieran and Y/n, his eyes narrowed.

“I need to help them. You two stay here, if you try to escape we will hunt you down. Understood?” Kieran nodded while she only rolled her eyes; she was getting tired of all the empty threats. They watched as John descended down the hill.

“We can’t keep doing this, man.” She spoke up after a quick breather, her leg aching. He only hummed in response, too busy trying to get a better look of what was going on. As she scoped the scene, a familiar shine in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

“Is that..” It was. It was a sniper rifle. It was the first time she had a genuine smile. Oh, what a beautiful sight, a beautiful sight that is now mine.

She hopped down the hill, carefully as to not alert either gang, and picked up the gun. Its cold metal only warmed her heart, as she looked through the scope and nodded her head; it wasn’t the best, but it’d do. She heard her friend scramble after her, not wanting to be left alone.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” He scolded, the both of them a bit startled at the sudden loud bangs of guns at the cabin.

“What do you think? I’m going to scope that big grunt and get us the hell out of here. We can wait till they kill all the O’Driscolls, then I aim from a distance an-“

“No! Being alone is too risky! We would get hunted down! Our best bet is to warm up to the Van Der Linde gang and-“

It was her turn to interrupt him, she looked like she had been shot a second time, “What? Are you insane! Have you lost your mind?”

“I’m trying not to lose my head!” He snapped back, much to her surprise. He rubbed his eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Just… hear me out ok?”

“They will kill us after today you know? We gave them what they needed, Bang. Bye bye us.”

A twig snapped, the two of them now on high alert. An old O’Driscoll had a gun pointed at Kieran, but Y/n quickly head shot him within milliseconds. He thanked her, a hand to his chest.

“Come on, we are sitting ducks here.” She began to limp to the cabin, the gunshots had died down significantly. When they got there, the place was littered with dead bodies.

She made her way to the wooden shed and saw the rest of them there. Arthur had his back turned; it would be so easy. She aimed her rifle at him, just as he got knocked down by a frenzied O’Driscoll with a gun pointing down at him. Saves me a job, she first thought, but Kieran’s previous words nagged her. Nagged and nagged, before she huffed in annoyance. Damn you, horse boy.

She shot the man on top of Arthur between his brows, he went limp, and Arthur pushed the now dead body off of him; blood had splattered on his coat and face. He laid there for a moment, not even acknowledging her, before getting up and peering his head inside the cabin and was suddenly filled with rage. He stormed towards her, his face red.

“You set us up! Come here!” He was towering over her now, their anger mutual.

“No she didn’t!” Kieran tried to defuse the situation which only made Arthur angrier.

“You both did, Colm O’Driscoll ain’t here!”

“If I wanted to set you up, I would’ve used this very rifle in my hand to shoot you dead!” She seethed, raising the rifle as proof she did just in fact save his life.

“She has a good point, Arthur.” Bill butted in, sort of on her side. Arthur paused for a moment, seemingly taking in the situation before shooing her away and saying, “Alright then, go on, get out of here.”

“Eh?” Kieran puzzled, stepping closer to Y/n who only furrowed her brows at him. A trap? Get our back turned to shoot us?

“I’m letting you run away, now go on. Get out of here.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice, come on Kieran.” She was about to walk off, or hobble away, when he grabbed her wrist.

“That’s as good as killing us. Out there, without you, Colm O’Driscoll’s gonna lose his mind about this.”

She groaned, sick of this argument, and Arthur didn’t seem too pleased either, only asking, “So?”

“So, we’re one of you now.” He stated, earning a scoff from Y/n.

“Oh please.”

He shot her a warning glance and for once she obeyed. Arthur rubbed his eyes before murmuring, “Give me a break.” He looked at them both, thinking hard about his next decision.

“Alright then. But I’m warning you both…”

“We get it!” Y/n groaned, throwing the rifle on the ground to his feet so he didn’t keep going on.

“You fellas get to camp, quick. Hey Bill, you tell Dutch, old Kieran and little Y/n ain’t worth killing. Just yet.” He stated, already making his way inside the cabin to find the money stashed in the chimney.

Y/n got on John’s horse this time with said man, deciding the man with the giant scar on his face was still better than Bill, who only this morning was excited to burn a man’s balls off.

“Don’t think for second you’re one of us.” John barked as they began their journey back to camp.

“Trust me. I’ll never have the desire to be accepted by any of you.” She scoffed, all of them going silent as the sun began to set, and the cold air giving her goosebumps.

#rdr2 fandom #rdr2 #rdr2 community #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader

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silverlightqueen · 4 years ago

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My Love is Come to Me

silverlightqueen’s SKZ Scarefest

demonhunter!Changbin x demonprincess!reader - comedy, angst, gore and violence, reader is a total bad bitch and Changbin is just tired™️

Word Count: 2.6k+

Summary - y/n’s a troublemaker. Everyone who’s ever met her knows that well. However… y/n’s definition of trouble isn’t quite what you’d expect. But what’s the harm in messing with humans? Hurting them a little? Or hurting them a lot? It’s only a bit of fun, right? Changbin doesn’t seem to think so.

Warnings: explicit gory description, blood and weapons, violence, decapitation, murder, blackmail and betrayal, I think that’s it but please let me know if you noticed I missed something!

a/n: and here is the third instalment of my SKZ Scarefest! I really hope you enjoy it! please be sure to check out the previous parts (because I put a lot of effort in and one of them has two notes lmao) and keep an eye out for the coming parts too! thank you @silverlightprincess for proofreading, you’re the best and I love you! x

taglist: @kodzu-ken @cloudsgathering @silverlightprincess

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‘Which poor thing have they sent this time?’ I call tauntingly into the darkness when I hear footsteps echoing around the room. Only one chandelier is lit - the one above me – flickering sinisterly whilst the rest of the room remains hidden in the blanket of the dark. I don’t get a reply but the smile on my face doesn’t falter because I can hear the footsteps getting louder, my acute hearing giving me the ability to pinpoint exactly where they are. And just as I expect, a single boot appears out of the shadows, the light glinting off the pristine black leather. Another boot joins the first, and the person wearing them is illuminated only a few moments later, their face making my smile grow wider.

‘Changbin – the boss himself! It has been so long!’ I exclaim, leaning back in my seat and crossing one leg over the other, beaming at him. ‘Not long enough,’ he mutters with a roll of his eyes, tucking one hand into his pocket exasperatedly. He looks so handsome, as he always does, in his hunter uniform. The black t-shirt and black cargo trousers are perfectly fitted to his godly proportions, and he has a harness, with weapons tucked into it, tight around his waist, giving him an attractive V-shape. His biceps bulge against the sheaths he has fastened around them, and he has a gun strap diagonally across his torso, the butt of the gun visible over his shoulder. His hair is different now to the last time I saw him; he’s dyed it a light blond and has it parted at the side, the silky locks spread to reveal a slice of his forehead and one dark brown eyebrow.

‘Your hair is nice. This colour complements your skin,’ I murmur softly, and he looks up at me with a stony expression. ‘Will you not thank me for my kind words?’ I ask, hearing the edge in my voice, and I see his jaw clench in anger. I lift a hand up, a flame appearing in my palm, and I run my long stiletto shaped nails, blood red and sharpened to a lethal point, through the tip of it, the heat tickling my skin. ‘Thank me,’ I instruct, and he sighs in defeat, eyes watching the hellfire in my hand warily. ‘Thank you, y/n,’ he says through gritted teeth, and I grin, closing my hand on the flame and feeling it die against my skin.

‘Which pointless charade will it be today, Changbin? Shall I pretend to run and let you chase me for a little while? Or should I let you kill me to only come and haunt you again tomorrow? Maybe I should just leave?’ I pretend to ponder, enjoying this far too much. ‘You know what you should do? Go terrorise another realm,’ he spits out angrily, and I pretend to recoil back, holding a hand to where my heart would be if I had one in mock hurt. ‘Ouch. And here I was thinking you liked our… little chats,’ I pout, trying to look as sad as I can (it is hard when emotion is not something you feel), and he lets out an angry huff.

‘Cut the bullshit, y/n, I’m sick of this. Haven’t you got anything better to do?’ ‘Better than torturing helpless little humans? Better than listening to the desperate screams of my victims as I terrorise them before tearing them apart? Better than feeling full on fear? Not much in the world is better than that, Changbin. And you know it well yourself,’ I say with a little grin, and he doesn’t say anything, just staring at me unreadably, because he knows I’m right.

Not many know the origin of demon hunters, but I’m old enough to have been there when the first one was converted. A priest of one of the first civilisations on Earth created a spell to supress the demonic qualities of demons, and turn them into enhanced beings without the evil in them. By a clumsy mistake on my part, he managed to capture me and my love, who was too a demon, and locked me up whilst he performed the spell on my love. I had no belief that it would work, but how wrong I was, for the first thing my love did when he laid eyes on me after having the spell performed on him was lift a knife that my father had gifted him and plunge it into my chest. When I awoke, I was back in the 5th circle of Hell, weak and hurt, and my love, as he was, was lost forever.

‘Do you not miss the old days, Changbin? Chasing humans, petrifying them, feeding on their deliciously raw fear, striking our glorious wrath down upon them? Ruling the 5th circle side by side with me, as King and Queen?’ I ask, as I always do, and I can’t help but hope to hear a different answer than usual, as I always do. ‘No, y/n, I don’t miss it. I miss the days when I’d kill you and you’d actually die for longer than a few hours,’ he mutters angrily, and I sigh, not so much disappointed as… fed up.

His harsh words used to hurt, especially so soon after I used to hear nothing but love and devotion from him, and I would weep at his feet, begging for him to come back to me. The spell is reversible, you see, but demon hunters are almost entirely immune to temptation, and so there is nothing that will make them choose to change back. I used to follow him everywhere, desperate for him to come home with me as himself, and he would hurl hurtful words at me before brutally murdering me. I’d reawaken a few days later and sob as the pain of a broken heart engulfed me, only to seek him out again with renewed hope not long after.

It was only a century after pursuing him that the pain was too much to bear, and I took his knife from him – my father’s knife – to cut out my own heart and place it in his palm. When he hurled it away in disgust, I felt nothing, no hurt or pain or heartbreak, and it was liberating. The old love for him lingers on still, but it is faint, and his rejections inflict pain upon me no more.

‘Come,’ I command, and he doesn’t move a muscle, turning over Satan’s knife in his hands. ‘Don’t make me hurt you, because you know well that I will. My tenderness for you exists no longer, Changbin, and my patience wears thin quickly,’ I say gently, the threat in my words clear, and he sighs exasperatedly, boots thudding against the steps as he makes his way up towards me. I rise from the throne, moving aside and motioning for him to sit, and he fixes me with a look as if to say, ‘really?’ I don’t say anything, raising a brow, daring him to disobey me, and he looks away, sinking into the throne in defeat. He may be the original Demon Hunter, but there is not much in the world that is stronger than Satan’s daughter, a Princess of Hell.

I carefully make my way down the steps, the Queen’s heavy fur robes that are fastened across my collar dragging behind me, and I know his eyes are on my back, able to smell the intrigue rolling off him in waves. My red stilettos echo against the polished wooden floor, and with each step I take, the sound of Changbin’s gentle breaths becomes quieter and quieter, his steady heartbeat just out of my reach.

And then my ears pick up the clinking of metal, the rush of wind that follows a sudden movement, and the singing of a blade through the air. Just as I reach the door of the throne room, the knife reaches me, and I turn around, catching it with a quick hand, the sharp blade nicking my palm, blood slowly trickling down my wrist and tainting my skin. ‘It is not nice to throw things at people in the dark, Changbin. Especially sharp things,’ I say lightly, as though reprimanding a child, and I smile at the soft frustrated sigh he lets out. He cannot have possibly thought something with such little effort would have been anything other than futile – he knows it is not easy to kill me.

I raise the hand with the blade in it, lighting all of the chandeliers with that single movement, and I revel in seeing the way Changbin’s face changes when the room is thrown into light. ‘Did they not tell you what you were coming to deal with? Well, you should have known – we did this sort of thing together once. Especially at this time of the year, to mark the coming of All Hallows’ Eve,’ I say nonchalantly, leaning against the doorframe with a grin, and he looks up at me, disgust colouring his beautiful face. ‘You make me sick,’ he spits out, features twisting with anger, and my grin grows even wider.

My eyes scan over the room, admiring my work of art. Bodies are strewn across the room, the floor covered entirely in fresh blood, ruby red splashed across the majestic paintings that adorn the golden walls. The only part of the room empty of bodies is the red carpet beneath my feet, stained redder with blood, unrolled right up to the foot of the throne. A clear walkway for a King and Queen.

‘When will this end, y/n? You can’t keep doing this!’ he shouts, furious, and I just raise an eyebrow. ‘I can, and I will. You are the only one who can put a stop to this, so you know as well as I that the blood of these innocents is not on my hands. It is on yours, my love,’ I smile, and he shakes his head, face twisted with rage.

‘They said it was one dead body. Not this… barbaric massacre,’ he says, sounding bitter, and I roll my eyes. ‘Oh, you sound so sad, but for no good reason. You know not these humans, care not for them,’ I say, frustrated at his righteousness when, deep down, he is no better than I. ‘It’s basic human empathy, y/n!’ he shouts at me, and I let out a harsh laugh. ‘A human you are not! You are like me!’ I scream, my voice echoing around the circular room endlessly, ringing in my ears.

We’re both silent and after a few moments, I let out an annoyed huff. ‘I loathe shouting. It is so unladylike. I wish you would refrain from making me do so,’ I pout, lifting a hand to fix the Queen’s tiara atop my head. ‘I wish you would refrain from murdering dozens of innocent people,’ he says pointedly, and I roll my eyes. ‘Goodness, you are dramatic. They are not dead. Just injured or stunned. Only one is dead. That one,’ I say exasperatedly, pointing to the body that is speared on the massive sword hung on the wall, and Changbin looks around in horror. ‘They’re all alive?’ he asks, and I nod, a small smile curving my lips up. ‘Not for long,’ I grin, and his eyes meet mine, questioning and wary.

I bend over, grabbing the shoulder of the human closest to me, and I lift her up against me, pressing the blade to her neck. She’s only a young girl, no older than 16, with a mild injury to her arm. The only reason she’s unconscious is her fear. ‘Change back or I murder her. And then I shall murder the rest of them too,’ I smile, giving him the ultimatum I should have given him many centuries ago, and his face falls. ‘y/n, don’t-’ ‘Begging I would bother not with, nor bargaining. I have given you your choice. Now make it,’ I say, and he just stares at me, jaw clenched with fury.

‘Dither not, Changbin. Her time is running out,’ I taunt him, digging the knife into her skin, fresh blood blooming around the blade. One move of my arm, and the life will seep out of her. ‘y/n, please-’ ‘Three.’ ‘y/n, don’t do this. Please-’ ‘Two.’ ‘y/n, please!’ ‘One.’ ‘Fine, fine, I’ll do it!’ he shouts, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘So do it,’ I say, and he stares at me for a moment, helplessness and rage covering his features. His eyes slide shut quickly, as though they were forced close, and his face becomes a blank canvas, sparking hope in my chest. I didn’t really think he’d do it, and part of me still doesn’t.

But when he opens his eyes again a few moments later, and they glow ruby red, I know. I stare at him in disbelief, and he just stares back, the red in his eyes slowly fading. And then he smiles, a beautiful and terrible smile, and I can’t help but smile back, a smile of glorious victory. My love is come to me.

I force the knife through the girl’s neck, revelling in the loud crunch of her head coming apart from the rest of her, and I drop both her limp body and severed head to the floor, cleaning the blade on the royal robes. I step along the red carpet, making my way back towards him, and stop halfway, looking down at the King who lies pathetically at my feet. I reach down, pulling the crown from his head and the sceptre from his hand. I continue walking up towards Changbin, the man watching me with a devilish grin, leaning back in the throne as though it is his own, his big veiny hands adorned with rings resting on the red velvet arms on the chair.

When I reach him, he stands before me, and I place the crown atop his blond locks gently, handing him the sceptre which he takes with a strong hand. ‘My King, my love,’ I whisper, and his smile grows. ‘My Queen, my love,’ he replies, lifting my hand to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss to my skin, his sinful brown eyes never leaving mine.

‘Your wound bleeds,’ he murmurs, lifting my hand to his face once more and pressing the cut on my palm to his mouth, cleaning away the blood with one swift motion of his tongue. And then he lifts his hand to my face, and swipes his finger across my cheek, cleaning away a splash of the human girl’s blood. The simple and tender touch ignites me, my love for him burning hot through my body. He holds his finger to his mouth, tongue darting out to taste the blood, and his eyes flutter shut as a low moan sounds in his throat, the sound sparking desire deep within me.

‘How I have missed the divine taste of human blood. Only slightly less than I have missed you, my love,’ he says softly, and a satisfied smile stretches across my face. ‘I feel that I may have missed you more,’ I reply, and he lets out a gentle scoff. ‘Impossible,’ he says lightly, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Show me how much you missed me,’ I challenge, and I see the competitive glint in his eyes appear again, though it is not a look I have been able to miss – it seems my Changbin and the other Changbin had a competitive streak in common. ‘How, my love? I shall do whatever you ask of me,’ he promises, and I grin, slipping past him to sink into the throne, looking out over the room with my chin lifted in a regal stance.

‘Kill them all, my King,’ I say simply, and his lips lift in an evil grin, his eyes glowing red with sin. ‘For you, my Queen – my love – gladly.’

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years ago

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid 193

193 When Lance fell asleep, their roles had reversed. Keith calling Shiro to check in, after overhearing how they hadn’t really talked to anyone. The conversation with his brother wasn’t that long due to him not wanting to leave Lance. Knowing Krolia, whatever advice she’d given him was probably shit, though, as Lance had said, his mother was probably the closest person he could turn to advice for this. Coran may have had a pretty interesting past, but as far as Keith knew, he’d never been on the end of being pregnant. Pidge... wasn’t exactly maternal, and Allura... was Allura. She’d make a good mother... in her own way. Maybe this trip would have been better if they’d invited the others? Not so much Rieva and Matt, but Pidge and Hunk. “Keith?”Hearing Lance call his name, he forced himself out the bathroom. It was now closer to dusk than to dawn. Lance had needed time to cry out his frustrations“Hey, beautiful. How are you feeling?”“Better... thirsty... and sorry”Sorry because they hadn’t been to see his dad yet... Keith was slightly annoyed by that fact, but not mad. Lance hadn’t asked for his ego to start being a pain in the arse, and with all the stress he’d been putting himself under, he really needed the rest“Do you want some blood?”“We didn’t do my injection”Fuck. He hadn’t thought of that“Do you want to go the bathroom, and I’ll get it organised?”“Okay” It felt like nothing now to draw a bit of blood for Lance’s injections. The fear of the curse had lessened. Lance would have never tried to feed off Matt or Rieva, even in a desperate situation. But whether it be luck, or Lance’s own curse, it seemed to kill the werewolf curse before it could turn their twins. Maybe Lance had a point about some of their more careless activities? They shouldn’t be able to stand being in the same room, they both shared moments with their egos that really hurt, but he hadn’t been thinking of his own safety since turning. Just the safety of everyone they called family. Coming back from the bathroom, Lance sat beside him on their bed. Resting his against Keith’s shoulder, he sighed softly “Okay... inject away”The injection always only took a moment. In, inject, out, then Lance would rub at the healing mark. His boyfriend sighing again, overthinking things“You needed to let it out”“I know. I feel like I’ve brought the whole mood down and I hate it. You must be starving”Yep. He was. His metabolism was something crazy. The amount of food he consumed was frankly scary“I’m okay. Here, have some blood and we can think about getting something to eat”“I thought I had this planned. You know? We’d have breakfast, than go see your dad. Clean his grave up. Talk to him... A mental breakdown wasn’t scheduled”“Are they ever? Did mum help?”“She’s no Mami when it comes to advice. She said to chuck my fear out the window”Keith snorted“Right. Because it’s totally that easy. Was she okay?” They didn’t know if she was coming or not. Not with her work schedule. Keith kind of hoped she would, yet she’d made indications of it. Like, would he even recognise his father’s grave? And what did he say? “Yeah. She was her usual self. I called her for advice, but I know she was disappointed it wasn’t you”“Nah. She loves you. I think she even likes you better than me”“She’s your mum. She loves you. She’s pretty worried how this is affecting you. I could tell”“I’m okay... kind of. I’m getting there. Umm... Nothing time with my beautiful boyfriend won’t fix” Lance groaned at him“Babe, you don’t have to try so hard. It’s okay. I’m hardly beautiful... I’m like... the very definition of a wreck right now”“You’ll be okay. Here, wrist or um... neck?”“Wrist... sorry... it’s just easier in this position”“Don’t be sorry. I’m not sorry”He’d noticed something. Lance only liked to feed on his neck when they were making out or in the heat of things. His fingers when Lance was trying to be quite mid do“I am. I love you so much. So so much. I neglected your safety... and you’re still being... so good to me”“Idiot. I love you. Your hunger won’t last forever. I should have gotten some blood into while you slept... it’s bad to let your... um... levels drop”“I’ll be okay. They’re still okay... I think one of them tried to break my rib when I was in the bathroom” Keith loved hearing the twins were moving. Even when it was uncomfortable for Lance, he felt like he was hearing cute stories he wouldn’t be able to forget. He didn’t think he had the patience to be pregnant... which only made him prouder of strength Lance showed“They take after you. All silent and deadly”“Babe, I’m not a fart”Keith hadn’t thought of that, chuckling as he shook his head“I know. You smell awful in a good way. Not like my lactose farts”“Eh. They’re part of you. A couple of wads of tissue up my nose and you’d never tell”“I’ll remember that for next time. Here, eat something. Don’t be afraid if you need a little more” That was something else Keith noticed. Lance took care with the amount of blood he took from him, but the volume seemed like it would be a lot for a human. Very rarely he felt light headed, questioning if he’d be conscious if he was still human. He’d never tell Lance. He’d freak out immediately, plus fluids and a good meal had him back in shape in no time. Lance moaned as he bit into Keith’s wrist, reminding him he’d have to make more of an effort. Maybe it’d be for the best if he ran an IV line for Lance tonight, just to get his hunger knocked on the head completely. Pulling off, Lance lapped at the trails of bloodied spit left on Keith’s arm. The wounds starting to heal instantly“Better?”Catching a few small beads pushed out by the healing wound, Lance hummed “Mmm... I know this isn’t comfortable for you”It shouldn’t have been hot, but it was. It stroked his pride to provide for their boyfriend the one thing he needed above all else“I’m fine, babe. As long as you’ve had enough”“Yeah... I’m good. I’m still sorry. I think I’ve been taking more and more of late”“Nah, it’s fine. But I was thinking we should probably set you up with an IV later, seeing how little you ate today. You need to keep your fluids up”“But keeping my fluids out means I have to pee”Whining at him, Lance was too cute“I love you and your walnut sized bladder anyway”“I think it’s more like a grape at this stage. I’m sorry my ego chuckled a wobbly... and that we spent most of today in bed”“There’s nothing more that I love, than spending the day in bed with you”“Pervert. I’m serious though. I don’t want to be scared like that. I want to see where you grew up. I want to know everything about you. All of it”“You might not like all of it”“I don’t know. I think we both know that I’m like crazy stupid in love with you and all those little things that drive me crazy only make me love you more” Keith groaned softly. He’d become weak to Lance. Last real story he had left to share with his boyfriend was the night Shiro saved his arse. Lance knew most of it. Keith couldn’t remember what he’d told him, nor was he sure why he’d never told him all of it. Being on the streets had taken a toll, and the thought of a warm bed and decent shower left him going with people he already knew were no good for him. They’d offered him a good time when he’d been so completely done with fighting to be alive“Alright. How about we go get dinner and figure things out from there”“Mmmm... sounds good to me. Let me change, then we’ll go”“I probably need to freshen up too”“I hate to say it but we both kind of stink” From sweat. Under the blankets left them both sweating in their sleeps. Lance smelt deader than ever, with Keith not far off. Personally he didn’t mind stinking of Lance, but Lance felt like he needed to do more to protect Keith with things like being careful with his scent“Want to take first shower while I look for somewhere good to eat?”“Sounds like a plan... I... don’t know if I’ll freak out again”“It’s okay. If you do, we can totally go. I know we’re here to see my dad, but your safety and comfort comes first. I don’t want you to think you have to hide things from me”“I know. I won’t take too long”“Don’t go rushing. The last thing we need is for you to slip. That sounded harsher than what I meant”Lance shook his head at him“It’s okay, we both know I’m a klutz. I’ll be careful. We’ve come this far. I’m not about to risk them”“I’m worried about you, too. I don’t want you being hurt”“I’ll be fine... Let me freshen up, then you can take me out for dinner” Lance kissed Keith’s wrist where he’d fed. Keith couldn’t believe the passage of time since meeting Lance had moved so fast. It must have been a year now, or very close to a year. This time last year, he’d have thought himself turned and cursed with a single bite. The Blades really did teach some total bullshit when he stopped to consider all of things he hadn’t thought of before. He’d been such a dumb arse. Luckily he had Lance to set him straight... or not so straight... though he wasn’t sure what he was as it was Lance he loved and not only his physical body. Realising how easily he could fall into an internal debate over all of that, he gave a shake of his head. Lance said he’d let him take him to dinner, so that’s what he was going to do. *Holding Keith’s hand, the freshness of the night felt nice against Lance’s skin. Keith either hadn’t bothered looking up somewhere else to eat, or he’d been trying to please Lance, resulting in dinner at the same restaurant they’d had breakfast at. This time Lance figured out what was wrong with the place. As they’d finished dinner, the waitress had come to collect to their plates, on her arm balanced by the nozzle was a bottle of orange scented surface spray. Being a public restaurant, smells of all sorts bombarded his senses from the moment they walked. With so many scents, he hadn’t consciously noticed the orange surface spray. The fact that Sendak still held such a hold over him left Lance unable to enjoy his meal. The atmosphere of the restaurant was good, Pidge would have loved the idea of sneakily signing them up for the weekend Karaoke competition, then abusing everyone heckling her over bad singing... He missed those days. He missed not being pregnant and not fearing his scent. Heck, he missed ghost hunting. He missed watching Pidge get super enthused as Hunk prayed for it all to be over. The restaurant was the kind of place he could see himself having a few quite drinks had the place been in Garrison. The kind of place that Sal’s had been to them before he’d had to hideaway his changing body. The Lord knew he was looking forward the day they could all go out again. He was going to order the biggest, greasiest, slimiest, cheesiest pizza in existence. Maybe even have Sal get some cigarette ash in there for that true diner flavour... “Want to take a walk?”No. Maybe... He wanted to go home to bed... but he’d spent the day in the hotel room. Staring past Keith, the stars twinkled over the town as if trying to say that nothing bad could ever happen here, which was a bold faced lie if ever there was one. Keith drew strength from the moon, and both of them had eye sight sharp enough to walk around in the dark safely enough... plus... it’d give them time to get the layout of the town down... His boyfriend seemed to be oblivious to internal wavering, Lance wondering if this was his way of easing into things he either wanted to tell, or easing into seeing his father... or even a chance to cover his arse when Shiro asked how much of the town they’d gone out and seen“Sure. There’s a park a few blocks down. I saw it on the town map”“You saw a town map?”“Did you really not look this place up at all? They have a similar lay out to Garrison, which makes sense in a way... they were both trade posts at some time, though I’ve got not idea what they could have pulled out of all the sand”“I didn’t even know that much. It’s like... all I remember is the shack... all of it feels like being on another planet”Lance slid his hand into Keith’s “It’s a good thing I’m here to keep you grounded. Don’t even think about packing your bags for another planet. You’re not leaving me behind”“I’m sure that if I ever got spirited away into space, you’d be right there with me”“Yep. Probably screaming my head off the whole time too”“I think I would be too. Let’s go, I’ll follow your lead”“Don’t you always?” Keith kissed his cheek. Lance blushing lightly as his boyfriend replied “yep”, followed by two more kisses on his cheek. Lance would follow Keith to the ends of the Earth, with Keith just as happy to follow him instead. Unless one of them made the decision, they’d be following each other around in circles for the rest of their lives... That didn’t actually sound too bad... Walking down to the park, the town had a nice vibe to it. Lance felt bad for whoever was in charge of cleaning the park’s rubbish bin after his dinner decided to make a reappearance before they’d reached the toilets towards the middle of the park. Cleaning up, and using the facilities, the pair of them settled themselves down on the swings. It’d been months since he’d been on a swing set, in Cuba, yet it had to be longer for Keith. Dragging his feet in the sand to make a heart, he supposed they looked like a couple of kids up to no good. He’d seen enough memes that he knew adults missed swing sets, and he knew he definitely counted in their ranks. Pushing off lightly, the chain creaked under his weight. A memory of Veronica coming to mind from back when having a baby brother that was a vampire was something cool. He’d wanted to go higher and higher, the pegs of the swing set shaking, so Luis and Marco held it down as he swung as high as he could get. He’d been sure if he’d gotten a little higher he could have looped the chain around the top, but Papi had lost it at the four of them“You seem happy”“Mmm. I like swings”Letting the swing slow naturally, Lance grinned at his boyfriend mischievously. They had the whole playground to themselves “What about you? What’s your favourite piece of playground equipment?” Keith hummed. He’d been making a mound between his shoes, trying to keep the sand from slipping back down “I hate the monkey bars”“Oh? What’d they ever do to you?”“A shit kid at one of the families threw a rock at me because I could pull myself up to sit on top of them. It hit me in the head and I fell off backwards”“Wow. That kid sounds like a wanker”Keith nodded, expression semi serious “They were. I got in trouble for falling off”“That’s kind of what kids do though. They play and climb... it’s what kids are supposed to do”Keith sighed, before shaking his head“It doesn’t matter now. I can’t even remember their face, let alone why they through the rock”“They were probably jealous because you’re so much cooler than them. I bet you were a totally rad kid. I wish I’d known you then” Lance didn’t think about what he’d said. He felt like kicking himself as Keith mumbled “Right. The fucked up orphan no body wanted was a “rad kid””“Hey. No. No. That is not on you. Not at all. Adults are supposed to be there and be the strong ones. Not kids. I sincerely wish I could lord over every single person who hurt you, how fucking amazing you are”Keith gave a scoff of disbelief. Lance saddened that his boyfriend’s anxiety had gotten to him this badly. Climbing off his swing, the vampire wrinkled his nose at the sand pouring into his shoes as he moved to stand behind Keith“What are you doing?”“I’m going to push you?” Wasn’t that obvious? He’d waddled his pregnant arse all the way behind Keith. The only logical conclusion was he was going to push him on the swing“You don’t have to”“Maybe I want to? Maybe I want to play in the park because there’s no one else around. No bad scents. No blood. No spirits. No yucky feelings other than the sand under my socks...”“It is a nice park”“Right? Now, hold on” Pushing Keith on the swing, Keith gradually loosened up, even starting to laugh as Lance backed off and watched“You can do it, babe!”“I’m totally going to jump off, you know that, right?”“It’s like an unwritten law of swinging, seeing how far you can jump”“I think I have an advantage...”“Doesn’t matter. I’m totally challenging you to a swing off once these two are born”“That’s not fair, you’ve got wings”Lance huffed. They had a mind of their own, much like the rest of his body “Which are mostly useless. I can’t even fly around as a bat”“That’s fine. Ready?”“Go for it!” Keith jumped a little too soon, half faceplanting in the sand. With the way he landed, Lance rushed to his side to find his boyfriend laughing“Are you okay?”“I fucked that up”Kicking Keith lightly in the side with the toe of his shoe, his boyfriend rolled over, smiling like an idiot. Lance’s heart had stopped with the way Keith landed, now the idiot was smiling so happy he felt all warm inside “You had me worried!”“I guess I’m not that great at sticking the landing”“You weren’t that great at jumping. You went before the swing was at the right height!”“You make it sound like you’re training me for the Olympics” Channeling the best sports commentator voice he could, Lance’s voice wobbled slightly as he tried not to laugh at how funny he was“You don’t get at a ten-point-zero for your landing. Zero style. Very simplistic. Could this spell the end for Keith Kogane’s budding career before he even goes professional?”Keith laughed. A proper unguarded laugh. Lance feeling the luckiest man in the world to hear it “I’m being serious!”“Uh huh. Sure you are. You know, the stars are really pretty. I feel like I can see them way better than before”“That’s because all your senses increased. Werewolves and vampires are kind of night creatures”“I still don’t know how to turn into a wolf. I don’t know if it counts”“It totally does... Now, are you getting up? Or should I pick you up in the morning?”Keith patted the sand next to him“You could come down here”“Or you could come up here... I’m too pregnant to deal with sand”“Fair point. We have the whole park to ourselves... I don’t think I’ve ever really... just... you know...” That Keith hadn’t played on a playground saddened Lance. Even as an adult, playgrounds were still fun. With no one around to watch them, there was no point being responsible adults“You know, there’s a slide over there... and a flying fox...”“Babe...”Keith tried to dismiss the idea, Lance using “boyfriend” which proved very effective. Damn Pidge. She’d gone and put that back into his head at her birthday party“Come on, it’ll be fun. I mean, I probably can’t use the spinner, not unless you want to scramble the twins, but the slide never gets old”“Fine, but if we get in trouble, you’re taking the blame”Lance shrugged. They weren’t violating any laws that he knew of. They weren’t intoxicated. Nor were they committing property damage or trespassing“The lawyer in me tells me it’s going to be okay”“I’ll remember that when I get my one phone-call”“You better. Though it would be a conflict of interest to represent you, so let’s not get in trouble?” The did indeed get into trouble. Keith got wedged in the kids slide, and Lance was too tall for the flying fox, so that was disappointing. They were still messing around when the lights of a cruiser flashed red and blue, the two of them called over by a police officer who looked unable to catch them, even if they had been human. Swallowing down his fear, Lance took Keith by the hand, walking him over to the officer when Keith kept telling him they should run. Getting closer, the man clearly didn’t expect two fully grown adults to be playing in the park so late at night. “Officer, how are you tonight?”Putting on an air of responsibility, Lance felt he’d be the more convincing adult of the pair of them“I had a call about teenagers mucking around in the park. Want to tell me about it?”Keith snorted with laughter, Lance stepping on his foot to shut him up“That was us, sir. I’m sorry if we created a disturbance. We’re on holiday, you know, before the twins come, and wanted to have a little fun. I had no idea we we’re causing a disturbance” Keith tried to muffle his laughter, Lance mentally rolling his eyes at his boyfriend who was clearly upsetting the police officer. Huffily, the man asked“So I’m not going to find any of that junky paraphernalia you young people are into these days?”“No, sir. I know we might look young, but I’m 46 and my boyfriend here is 28. No drugs, or alcohol, sir”The man looked them up and down, Lance waited for something along the lines of “I wouldn’t lie to a police officer, if I was you”. Instead the man sighed“Look. You can’t be playing in the park at midnight. You’re obviously not locals. You staying at the hotel?”“Yes, sir. My boyfriend is a photographer, we’re travelling to work on his portfolio. Sorry. We wanted to have a little fun with no one around”“I’ll have you save that sort of fun for a more appropriate environment. Get in the back, I’ll give you both a ride back”Lance immediately shook his head“We’re both able to walk back...”“That wasn’t an invitation. We get a lot of blow ins for this damn Easter festival the town insists on having. The last thing I need is the pair of you thinking your entitled to cause trouble. Get in” Lance felt like a scolded school child as he did as he was told, Keith sliding in beside him, though his boyfriend still thought they should run. Clipping their belts in obediently, Lance bit his bottom lip. Maybe they’d gotten carried away? He didn’t think they were being too loud. All they’d been doing was acting like idiots. They hadn’t damaged any property... plus Keith had gotten on the spinner, which had been hilarious given how much strength he could put into a spin. His boyfriend had gotten off with shaky legs, tripped, fell in the grass and burst out laughing. Lance knew he should stay quiet, but this was a golden chance“Excuse me, have you been an officer here very long?”The man met his eyes before pulling away from the park curb“Long enough” Damn. He wasn’t giving him anything“Do you happen to know anything about the fire that took place here about 20 years ago?”Keith’s heart started racing harder. Yeah. He should have been considerate about Keith’s feelings, but this was like the perfect chance“Oh, I know about that fire alright. One dead. 250,000 dollars worth of damages. I don’t know why you’re bringing that up, but you’re best dropping it. A lot of people were hurt by that incident. Damn candle left unattended. The place went up faster than a whore’s knickers drop”“If one wanted to know about the fire, is there a local registrar office?” The office pressed the breaks suddenly, instead of gently stopping at the stop sign“Look. I’m sure you’re nice... whatever you are. But what happened that day is no laughing matter. We lost one of our own that day. It’s an ugly scar on the history of this town and I won’t have the pair of you treating it like a joke”Whelp. He’d gone and made him angry“I mean absolutely no disrespect. It’s such a horrible thing to have happened. When you saw you lost one of your own, I assume you mean an officer?” Resuming driving, the man sighed at him as if he was stupid, their eyes meeting again in the rear view mirror “No. Not an officer. One of our local fire fighters. They tried to stop the blazing jumping house, when the second floor came down. Horrible tragedy. We lost a fine man that day”“Did you know him?”“Aye, we all did. Bit of a loner. Kept to himself, especially after his missus skipped town. Heeee... had a boy from memory. Hard worker though. That boy... he was tiny thing of a kid. Still, he gave everything he could to that boy. He ended up vanishing, just like his mother. Couldn’t tell ya where she went. Up and vanished as suddenly as she appeared here. No idea how the pair of them met, and before we knew it, she was up the duff, then gone a couple of years later. Couldn’t handle the stresses of being a parent, if you ask me anything about it”“And all of this is public record?”“Bits and pieces. Look. I won’t tell you again, losing Joe hurt a lot of people here. He was a good man. Kind of man you never really knew what was thinking. But when he saw his boy, he’d light up like a goddamn Christmas tree. Loved that kid, he did. He was real torn up when his woman shot through, but never blamed his boy. We often used to wonder what happened to that kid, ah, but I suppose it’s one of those things you’d never know” The officer was letting his accent show. Keith seemed on the edge of tears“Say we didn’t want to drop it, is there anyone from around there that we can talk to about it”The man fixed him with a glare“People move on. Dredging that up again is only going to cause pain. If I hear you two are stirring up trouble because your curious over something that is none of your business, I will escort you out of town meself” That mean there were indeed people out there who’d been around at the time of the fire and may remember Keith, and his father... and that the council office should have record that’d help them place the pieces of that day together. The last few minutes of the drive was in silence. The officer having to squidge himself out the door in order to open the back door of the cruiser to let them out. The man really didn’t know what to make of Lance, he got it. He looked like a woman and sounded like a man. Some people were so damn backwards that they couldn’t accept change. Lance still opting to be polite, on the off chance they crossed paths again “Thank you for the ride. We’re sorry we caused you trouble”“Don’t let it happen again. There’s laws about these kinds of things. Consider yourselves both lucky and warned”“Yes, sir. Thank you” As the police cruiser left, Keith collapsed against him, sniffling as tears rolled down his face. His boyfriend wrapping his arms around him with a little too much force“Babe?”“He... loved me”With his arms pinned, Lance could only raise his hand enough to pat Keith’s arm “Yeah, babe. He did. I’m sorry I didn’t ask if it was okay to ask, but the opportunity to know something more was right in front of us”“He... he still went back in... he...”“He loved you. He loved you, and I know I’m not him. I could never know what he was thinking, but I think all he wanted to do was stop the fire before more people were hurt”“He left me”“Not by choice. You heard that guy. He loved you. He adored you. And he was so proud to be your dad. You... you were loved. You are loved”“Can we go back to the room?”Lance’s heart was breaking for his boyfriend. Sure, they’d learned a little and tomorrow Lance wanted to hit up the council to dig up whatever he could on Keith’s father’s past, but right now...“I was thinking the same thing. I want to hold you”“Please?”“Always, babe. Always and forever” ReplyForward

#Once Bitten #once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #pregnant lance #klance #vld #bottom lance #vampire lance #werewolf keith #soulmates #voltron #mpreg #laith

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caprina-mints · 4 years ago

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The Creepypasta Turning Into Kids for 1 Week and Their S/O has to Take Care of them:

Ask me if you want a Part 2 :3

Toby :

◈ Lots of cuddles and smooches from you

◈High Key loves to be carried by you and wrapping his arms around your neck.

◈ Will Cry and have terrible Panic attacks when you put him down and leave.

◈ " Toby what's wrong sweetie? I just went to the bathroom"

◈ " Y-you l-l-left M-me! D-Don't l-leave p-please I I-I L-love Y-ou"

◈ Your heart going so soft for this sweetheart that you scoop Toby up and give Toby soothing hugs .

◈a lot of pecks and small kisses landing on his cheeks.

◈This Little Toby is always hungry so he asks you to make his favorite food all the time.

◈ He watches you cook while sitting on his stool in adoration.

◈ Starts yelling I Love You for no reason and startles you everytime.

◈ Constantly asking you to give him a kiss.

◈ Bath time was His Favorite time of the day because you two bathe together.

◈ He likes to wash your hair for you and secretly uses your shampoo so you two will smell the same.

◈ You Two always hang out in the living room and he always falls asleep every time while laying on your tummy.

◈ One Time when you two fell asleep on the couch he suddenly turned back to normal and when you woke up you found a very naked Toby wrapping his arms around your waist.

Jeff the Killer :

✧ " Noo! Y/n! I'm a fucking Kid! My Dick is so small! "

✧You had to Comfort Jeff Because the poor smile child was traumatized by what he had become.

✧ " How the fuck am I supposed to make people go to sleep when I'm this tiny!? "

✧It consist of him being a brat and complaining all the time.

✧He still acts the same unlike Toby. But took advantage of his current form to boss you around.

✧So you got back at him by forcing him to wear a fairy costume given by Sally.

✧Revenge had never been this sweet.... Until he started crying.

✧Wtf he actually cried so now you're carrying him around while slowly cradling him and giving him soft kisses on his forehead.

✧He took advantage of it again and he was groping your boobs while sobbing and acting pitiful.

✧You let him have his way but you immediately dropped him when he slid his hand inside your shirt.

✧He started crying again and this time you shoved a candy inside his mouth to shut him up.

✧He kept spitting it out but you shove another one every time he did it.

✧" Jeff Put the Knife down! "

✧ You ended up treating him since he cut himself with his knife multiple times.

✧" But I wanna go out! "

✧He was being sulky because you took his knife away and now he won't eat so you had to feed him.

✧ Days later During Bath time where you were supposed to bathe him he suddenly turned back and let's just say he snuck up behind you and the two of you didn't just take a bath inside the bathroom ;3

Kagekao :

✤You didn't know about it for the majority of the days until he suddenly sneaked up on you when you were in your bed and stole a kiss.

✤" Look y/n! I'm a kid now! I can pull even cooler pranks like this! "

✤ He started pulling pranks on everyone and it took you a lot of persuading to stop everyone from burning kagekao.

✤ " kagekao! No wine! "

✤ " But I'm Thiiirsttyyyy! "

✤You were his next Victim and it ended so Bad that you had to ignore him and locked yourself in your room for the whole day.

✤ You Ignored him and he stayed outside your door knocking and saying sorry.

✤ Soon he started banging on your door violently and you were taking none of it so you put on your earphones and listened to music.

✤ You felt bad but what he did made you so angry that you wanted to strangle him even if he was a kid.

✤ You felt really guilty when you woke up and 4 hours had passed but you could still hear him banging outside.

✤ You opened the door and acted tough but once you saw him with his teary and heartbroken expression you melted.

✤ You felt even worst when you saw his tiny clawed hands bruised and bloody from knocking on your door.

✤ When you hosited him up he wrapped his tiny arms around your neck and started crying and saying sorry.

✤ It broke your heart and you started soothing him and telling him it was fine and you were sorry too for being too hard on him.

✤ While treating his bloody hands you couldn't help but start shedding tears at how bad his hands were.

✤ He panicked and thought he did something wrong and started saying sorry again you shushed him with a kiss on the cheeks. You gave his knuckles a kiss after you Bandaged his hands.

✤ It didn't take long for him to turn back and luckily you two were in your room when he turned back. He was asleep and naked at that time and you were awake.

✤ You climbed on top of him and gave him a long kiss even though he was asleep but it didn't take long for him to respond.

✤ " I love you " You muttered after the kiss and he replied immediately and everything was nice until he decided to grab your hips and grind you on 'that' area a devious smile on his face.

Masky :

✵ You were happy when you found out about it because how bad could a child masky be instead of his usual self?.

✵ Oh boy, You have never been so wrong in your entire life. He was as difficult as before and he keeps snapping and bossing you around.

✵ and of course you had the courage to taunt him and tease him because he wasn't big or strong enough to man handle you and fuck you to next week.

✵ You were happy about that fact but little masky was so demanding. If you refuse to carry him he stands on something and jumps on you.

✵ This happened a lot of times and he never stops until you carry him...

✵ Like Jeff he starts groping and getting all touchy with your boobs and you had to rip him away from your chest every time.

✵ He's still the same and keeps giving sarcastic and snarky remarks.

✵ Masky and Hoodie were incharge of grocery shopping but since Masky was too little you had to tag along.

✵ guess what? Masky was still the jealous and possessive man as he was before and demands that you carry him while grocery shopping.

✵ And when a man gets too close to you he starts yelling 'mommy!' Or ' Mommy why do you have AIDS? ' and ' Mommy you were a man before? '

✵ And you were so embarrassed and annoyed with his bitch ass attitude so you shoved him towards hoodie and grabbed the cart so you could do the shopping yourself away from masky.

✵ Everything was going well for you but Masky on the other hand kept squirming and struggling against hoodie's hold. And he even threatened hoodie to let him go.

✵ Hoodie had the chance to let him go but after what masky had done Hoodie was more afraid of what You could do to Masky if you were pushed too hard. So he didn't let go.

✵ And the most unbelievable and surprising thing happened.

✵ Masky Cried , whined and wailed like a baby.

✵ He had Big round tears running down his cheeks and you and Hoodie couldn't even think straight because--

✵ What the fuck he knew how to cry? Like what????.

✵But knowing Masky he was doing that so he could get his way so you ignored him. But he got Hoodie in trouble... Also you.

✵ " Help this man is kidnapping me and my mommy doesn't Care! " He shouted while crying and pointing at you and hoodie

✵ Oh shit you and hoodie are in for some deep trouble because of how bratty masky was. You heard a lot of nasty commented from old aunty gossipers in the crowd that was piling up. And those nasty things were about you being a terrible mom.

✵ Hoodie immediately let go of masky when two guards approached him and he ran towards you hugging your leg and he bit your damn leg.

✵ You winced and held back your voice. You were even interviewed by the guards and how irresponsible you were for being so unaware.

✵ Masky had a smug grin the whole time. Hoodie gave up and waited on the counter while masky rode on the Shopping cart.

✵ He kept nagging and ranting about how he's going to get you back but you were so angry and tired with his bullshit that you didn't even have the energy to talk to him or even look at him.so you just continued shopping.

✵ Masky noticed it and when he bit your arm to look at him he was shocked when you glared at him coldly and just pulled your hand away from him .

✵ He tried so many ways to get you to talk and you didn't. He even tried insulting you but it made it worst and this time you didn't even care about him.

✵ Once you were done shopping hoodie was driving the car and you sat on the back seat while Masky sat on the passenger's seat. You stayed silent for the rest of the ride and didn't let masky in your room that night.

✵ You didn't Talk or look at him for the following day and he threw so many temper tantrums that everyone was begging you to talk to him. But you didn't. He fucking deserves it.

✵ A few days passed and you noticed how dark circles were forming under his eyes and he even stopped eating. And one time in the bathroom when you passed by he was drinking an unhealthy amount of pills in one go.

✵ He Kept throwing temper tantrums but one day he just collapsed and you are now worried to death and blamed yourself.

✵ He just lacked sleep and he wasn't eating and the pills didn't help either that's why he collapsed.

✵ You stayed in his room and when he woke up you felt so bad and your heart was crying when he held a crestfallen expression and started crying while sobbing he managed to say " I'm sorry please don't hate me. Don't leave me... I won't do it again don't hate me please" .

✵ He sounded so heart broken and sincere that you couldn't help but hug him and whisper gentle and loving words until he calmed down. You fed him and made sure he slept properly this time .

✵ While sleeping this idiot shoves his hand in your shirt and starts groping you.

✵ you were asleep when you felt a tickling and wet feeling on your chest and when you woke up it was grown up masky on top of you sucking your... Uhhhh.... *winky face *

✵ " I've been through a lot of shit cause of you... And I need my reward "

✵ You knew you were fucked when you found out that your hands were tied on the headboard.

✵ and for the next week he had to carry you around because your legs were as wobbly as a spaghetti.

Jason The Toy maker :

✿ You honestly didn't get to give a proper reaction when A tiny Jason suddenly came running in and clinging on your leg.

✿ You screamed while yelling ' Get away!' expecting that it was Grinny cat again going for your leg because it happened last time cause Kagekao got catnip all over your leg.

✿ When you looked down you saw a very Dejected and hurt Jason who looked like he could cry any minute now

✿ " You don't... Want Me Y/n?..."

✿ You frowned at his adorable and sad reaction and was about to pick him up when his skin color changed and his arm began to rot and turn black. He gripped on your leg with sharp claws and his hair turned white.

✿ He looked up at you with glowing green eyes and said " You want me to get away from... You?.... Never... You're Mine! " His voice echoed through the mansion making you gulp.

✿ He was still scary and possessive and knowing how he still has his abilities you bent down and hosited him up giving him a kiss on his nose, forehead and cheek.

✿ That calmed him down and his appearance turned back to normal.

✿ He was with you the whole time and when you try to leave expect that a raging child demon entity is already clawing on your very being while chanting how you belong to him.

✿ You did everything together and on bath time he insists that you should use his shampoo and every hygiene products he uses so he could smell his scent on you.... A very weird act of scenting.

✿ He asked for a kiss on the lips every time but you would always say no even if it is dangerous... Hello you felt weird kissing a kid.

✿ But he threw a tantrum and started yelling how you didn't love him and lookie here his creations came alive and he was already one step away from destroying everything in the mansion.

✿ So you quickly gave him a quick small peck on his lips and it was good enough to calm him down.

✿ Laughing Jack mistaken Tiny Jason as yours and Jason's Child.

✿ Tiny Jason didn't mind it but when you try to deny it... He goes beast mode.

✿ After the whole ' almost destroying everything in the mansion ' thing. Slenderman asked you to take Jason out for a walk.

✿ You Took him for a walk and brought him to the Park. You thought it was a good idea

✿.. No it was a terrible Idea. a little boy came up to you and told you , you were pretty.

✿ Jason didn't like that and tackled the kid and was attempting to gut him with his claws.

✿ He was successful in killing the child and you ran away with Jason before anyone could notice.

✿ Once far away you scolded him and how he shouldn't do that to innocent and cute children.

✿ He saw your scolding as an act of defending kids that tried to take you away from him so he ran away from you and back at the mansion.

✿ You followed him behind and he stomped to his room locking himself in.

✿ He didn't come out for almost 3 days and you grew worried.you tried knocking before but it was no use. He kept himself in. Even when you pleaded for him to go out he didn't.

✿ You figured that he may be sulking so you used the only way you knew he'd come out... Make him jealous.

✿ You start off by saying how cute The kids were in the park and how you wanted to bring them home . And you didn't even finish what you were saying...

✿ He was already out his door crying and clinging on your leg. And of course you felt.. Terrible.

✿ You carried him back to his room where it was a complete mess with everything wrecked and destroyed. And when you took a closer look at his face it was obvious that he and been crying a lot. Wow kids are really sensitive...

✿ He started saying how bad you were for trying to leave him and that you never really loved him and it ended with Nobody is going to love me because I'm a monster. that was a critical blow to your heart so you clearly explained to him why you did that.

✿ Luckily he was being cooperative and was being understanding for some reason which slightly creeped you out.

✿ He wanted to make toys so you brought him to his creation room where he keeps everything that should be hidden.

✿ you sat him on his chair and turned your back at him facing the table to prepare his tools but...

✿ You felt two cold hands brush against your sides and it had sharp claws that dug on your skin.. It wasn't the same tiny hands that would usually cling on your leg... It was a hand bigger than yours...

✿ you were pulled against a hard chest and a his lips were nibbling on your ear while his clawed hands ran up and down your sides and squeezing your sides occasionally.

✿ " You really enjoy teasing me my little temptress~ Let's see how you'll like it~"

Eyeless Jack :

❋ You Two were out in the woods when he suddenly shrunk down his clothes piling down.

❋ You were Squealing of how adorable Jack was when his head peeked out to look at you.

❋ " Aww, Jack you're so Tinyyyy! "

❋ " Y/n get me outta here "

❋ You offered to carry him but he was being stubborn and insisted to walk on his own.

❋ he still had his hoody on and he was so adorable when he struggled to walk with his baggy hoody.

❋ He kept stumbling on his Hoody and you couldn't take it anymore. You walked even slower than normal because of him.

❋ So you bent down and carried this tiny growling demon.

❋ He was pouting and he even tried showing his tiny fangs to scare you but you found it adorable.

❋ You couldn't help but rub your cheeks with his .

❋ Tiny Jack is a bit of a Tsundere. When you got home he squirmed to get away from you which upset you greatly.

❋ He didn't mind it when other pastas touched him but he'd turn feral when it was you.

❋ You were a bit offended so you gave him what he wanted. You didn't go near him when he was around.

❋ To your surprise he was trying to get your attention. But you didn't give him the satisfaction to have your attention.

❋ Ben had turned to a child 2 days after and you and Ben happened to be close. So you spent your time playing games with him seated on your lap.

❋ E.J didn't like that and he came to the extent of fighting with Ben trying to Tear him away from you.

❋ " Don't touch her! Stay away from her! "

❋ " Jack! Get away from Him! "

❋ He was upset that you defended Ben instead of Him.

❋ " Waaaah! You don't love me anymore! You Like him! "

❋ You had to carry him to your room because he wouldn't stop crying and his tears were black and gooey so you had to give him a bath.

❋ During bath time he kept sniffling and he had his arms crossed.

❋ You didn't say anything about it so you proceeded to wash and massage his hear, scratching the back of his ears since it would always calm him down.

❋ You knew you won his favor when he started purring like a kitten and pressing further onto your touch.

❋ Once you were done he began to act clingy and wouldn't let you leave him.

❋ He even started growling and baring his fangs at the other Creepypasta males who came near you.

❋ If he had the chance he would scent you rubbing his head on your chest and neck.

❋ He cried one time when you couldn't handle his cuteness and bit his cheeks gently.

❋ You kept doing that for the rest of the week and he'd run away everytime but come running back almost immediately.

❋ You woke up at midnight because you were thirsty and tiny Jack was asleep snuggling close to you. So you had to gently move him away. And you went straight to the kitchen.

❋ You were still drowsy and when you placed the glass on the counter a hand gripped onto your wrist and you were spun around aggressively.

❋ You were faced with an Angry looking Jack, he had turned back and he was shirtless but he wasn't completely naked. He had pants on.

❋ " Why'd You Leave? Did I tell you to? "

❋ Anger was radiating off him and you couldn't bring yourself to answer so you kept silent.

❋ He lifted your chin up with his finger and roughly pressed your lips with his cold ones.

❋ He bit down on your lips making it bleed and when he pulled away he had a smirk on his face.

❋ " It's Payback time~"

❋ The next morning you had hickies and bite marks all over your body and you could barely move without flinching.

Hoodie :

❒ You were happy that Brian wasn't as Demanding and Bossy as The others.

❒ He acted more mature and timid and he refuses to let you do anything for him which you found really lovable.

❒ He was a tiny sweetheart and is contented with just having you beside him.

❒ It was nice having him as a soft tiny bean instead of the usual intimidating , cold and a bit forceful Brian.

❒ But don't be fooled though, He still has his clingy side around and when you try to leave;

❒ He'll Threaten to break your legs when he turns back.

❒ which you didn't expect to hear from his cute plump lips.

❒ He has big chubby adorable cheeks that had you swooning and pinching his cheeks.

❒ You couldn't keep your hands away from him. He was so cute and tiny minus his death threats.

❒ When you two eat he always asks to sit on your lap and have you feed gum which makes you laugh everytime.

❒ He likes it when you play with his hair when he sits on your lap .

❒ This tiny fluffball always buries his face on your chest... Ehem.. Boobs.

❒ He appreciates it if you start complimenting him about being the cutest kid you've ever known.

❒ You two had an argument when he killed a man in the convenience store knocking the mountain of canned goods on him.

❒ Because the man had complimented you on how good your ass looked and he didn't mind dating a woman who had a child.

❒ Brian was so pissed at that and he was still as dangerous as he was before.

❒ He was being so unreasonable during your arguments that you walked off leaving the mansion for a walk.

❒ When you came back and it was already dark you saw Brian sitting on the small flight of stairs on the porch holding a flashlight .

❒ When he saw you he was brought into tears and ran towards you full speed tackling you. Which almost knocked you down on the ground.

❒ This kid is heavy. You scooped him up and started apologizing for walking away and he was still trying while scolding you because he was so worried.

❒ masky came out and explained how he and Toby had to hold him down so he won't go chasing you because it was unsafe for someone his size.

❒ You felt sorry and went is due with them and Brian had his face buried in your chest not moving at all.

❒ He had his tiny hands clutching tightly on your shirt like he was afraid you'll run away again.

❒ You took him to your room where you comforted him and promised to stay by his side for as long as you could and you'll always love him.

❒ he was still on your lap facing you with red glassy eyes making your guilt swallow you.

❒ you cupped his cheeks and gave him butterfly kisses all over his face until he started chuckling.

❒ Once you finished , a puff of smoke appeared on Brian and when the smoke cleared he was no longer tiny.

❒ He was big and naked now and he was still on your lap .

❒ He cornered you with a smirk before tearing your top with ease along with the rest of your clothes.

Doctor Smiley :

♢ You honestly didn't know how to react when you opened the door to his torture chamber and saw a tiny Doctor Smiley dismembering a dead body butt naked.

♢ " Ah y/n darling would you mind looking for some clothes for me? "

♢ You just left and came back minutes after holding bear pajamas given by Trenderman.

♢ He didn't like it but he didn't have a choice.

♢ He cleaned himself and wore the bear pajamas and he looked normal for once.

♢ Even though he acted the same he still had the childish spirit that came with his transformation.

♢ He didn't like it when other people carried him but he loves piggyback rides but there was no way he'd actually say it out loud.

♢ He keeps on asking you random questions and if you liked him better that way.

♢ He was energetic and hyper which you never expected from him. But it's understandable he was a kid after all.

♢ He hated bath time and will only take a bath if you join him.

♢ But he gets really bloody and messy because of his 'job' so you had to take a bath at least 7 to 9 times a day which irritates you very much.

♢ You had it with his job and didn't let him work for the following days because he would always get hurt clearly because his tools are way bigger than he expected and he was tiny.

♢ You always had him around you since he was pretty reckless and would try to sneak away and work with every chance he had.

♢ So you kept him on your lap everytime to keep an eye on him and this tiny smiley got even weirder because he lives to grab your hand and nibble and suck on your finger.

♢ He seemed to do this unconsciously when you two are watching a movie in your room.

♢ He was so cute and harmless it was hard to believe he killed people on daily basis.

♢ You didn't expect that he would turn back so soon.

♢ You felt a pair of cold hands brushing on your thighs and you yelped when you saw an adult smiley spreading your legs and latching his lips on your thighs and he began to travel further...

♢ He began to suck and nip your thighs and you did try pulling back... But resistance was futile. That night you didn't get any sleep.

#creepypasta headcanon #Creepypasta #Turnintokids #imagine #creepypastaimagine #Ticcitoby #Kagekao #Jeffthekiller #Masky #Brian #Hoodie #Jason #Jasonthetoymaker #DoctorSmiley #JasonMeyer #TobyErinRogers #TimWright #Caprina_Mints

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clansayeed · 4 years ago

Text

Bound by Choice ― III.ii. The Children of the Made-God

PAIRING: OC x OC x OC (Valdas x Isseya x Cynbel) RATING: Mature (reader discretion advised)

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Choice ⥽

Before there were Clans and Councils, before the fate of the world rested in certain hands, before the rise and fall of a Shadow King ― there was the Trinity. Three souls intertwined in the early hands of the universe who came to define the concept of eternity together. Because that was how they began and how they hoped to end; together. For over 2,000 years Valdas, Cynbel, and Isseya have walked through histories both mortal and supernatural. But in the early years of the 20th century something happened―something terrible. Their story has a beginning, and this is the end.

Bound by Choice and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Choice is the only book in the series not based on an existing Choices story. It is set in the Bloodbound universe and features many canon characters.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Choice/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

That's the problem; the world would rather judge them than seek to understand them. Their love was never about sacrifice. It has always been about survival.

[READ IT ON AO3]

The sun peeks through plumes of thicker smoke hot at his back. Hot as the gluttonous flames that devour the manor; ravenous and with enough awareness of mind to lick their plates clean.

All this heat and yet he is cold. A glacier unrelenting. Chipped away from the mainland and forced out to a sea of lava. Bubbling, boiling, blistering.

Broken.

He is the warrior but she has always been the stronger of Valdemaras’ children. She was born in carnage and supplication to a higher death; with the torn flesh of her enemies between bared teeth as they grew long and unyielding — he was born in the ecstasy of understanding, of being known and knowing in return and of finding a singular answer to all of the questions he never knew he needed to ask.

No one else knows this. No one but the one who brought them into this world so different, so unique… but with the same blood pumping rabid through their hearts.

No one else knows this. No one.

“Let me go!”

“You’re hysterical! Cease this madness!”

“Isseya I will burn you myself let. me. go!”

“I cannot lose you, too!”

The animal of howling anguish he has become — Cynbel stops to turn to her, only able to think of the words that dared poison his lips even if only for a moment. The thought never there, never — never.

But the fire continues to exist. Cares not whether their eyes of desperate mourning are upon it and continues on. A load-bearing column wavers and falls; kicks up a fresh cloud of glowing embers and smoke up to the sky and sends the husk of wall nearby with it.

He looks back in time for the embers to dig into his eyes like little claws. But the tears that come aren’t by their touch. Not at all.

“HH—He…” Words — what fucking useless things. Irrelevant, fucking impossible. They’re never full enough, strong enough… never just enough.

They would waste their lives for his. Oh they would. Their God’s first and final gift and they would soak the ground with it so wet so nothing could burn there ever again. Would build a temple befitting his honor towering so high in the sky it alone would block out the sun.

“I don’t…” she splutters wet with tears, they’re falling at a rate so fast he can’t wipe them fast enough, “Cyn—h-he can’t be—I…”

Imagine a world without him?

Neither can he.

Nothing could have survived such a blaze. That much is certain.

Though there are some that have never put much stock in certainty. The figure that emerges from the crumbling half-ruins of the front threshold being one of them.

They rally her name in a bolstering cry. “Sayeed! General Sayeed!” As though she is their savior. For some of them she perhaps is; the picture of the old goddess Hel wreathed in ruinous wreckage.

She is their savior, he thinks — and is made vengeful for it.

Something writhes in her arms but her grip is one of ages. Well-fed ages, too. She approaches and all gather to meet her. Some in praise, some in awe. Cynbel and Isseya — they are caught in a limbo of their own making and only follow because there is nothing else left.

Kamilah tosses her burden onto the grass gracelessly. The face that looks back up at the enclave of vampires is bloody and bruised; a gaping hole reeking of burning flesh where one eye was supposed to be.

The servant boy from the dinner cowers in fright. Because that is all mortals are good for in the end. Blood… and fear.

A boot comes down upon the child’s throat and everyone revels in the creak of youthful bones before they snap.

“All you have risked in their name… and they abandon you to die in their chaos.” Never in his life has Cynbel been glad to take in the towering sight of the Godmaker, nor is he now. But feeling anger is better than feeling a void.

Gaius’ burned features heal with every word hissed through clenched teeth. Angry, wrathful. “Your loyalty would have been far better rewarded had you made the smart decision not to cross me. But here we are.”

All around them — the faces of strangers. Of a Godmaker and Bloodqueen but none of them him.

Bravery is only brave without the fear that wracks through the feeble mortal. Ready to be ripped limb from limb for the barest scraps of blood and marrow by a starving pack of wolves. But to spit in the face of the Godmaker… that’s just stupidity.

And with Evil’s boot on his throat he intends for his last words to be damnable, perhaps. “Demons from Hell! Let God’s light and holy fire cast you away!”

So much hatred in such a small vessel.

Not that it was ever in doubt this was an attack orchestrated by the Order. But something so large scale…

There are jeers from all around to kill the whelp. To do things Cynbel has done, would do again if it brought him back to them… Distantly he notices a dark-figured silence in the form of Ambrose, watching not the satisfaction that curls in the smirk on the Godmaker’s lips but the way the creature seals his fate. The way he tries to squirm for freedom.

Snap. Technically he brings about his own demise. Writhes so hard in some deluded dream of freedom that all the Godmaker has to do is press down his littlest toe. The look that passes between King and Queen isn’t missed — yet still he reaches out and smooths the soot out of her furrowed brow.

The sight of it feels like dying.

“Where is he?”

Nothing but silence and the crackling of leftover fire. Cynbel swears he can hear his words echoing off the trees.

Augustine lets out a snorting breath. They know him too well — know something passes in his bright eyes hidden by blood-slicked hair before he pushes it back. “I don’t have time for your whining.”

“Make time!”

Not a step forward, then there’s a hand on his chest. Forceful and sure, but younger.

Kamilah’s eyes are long past burning. The storm gathers inside her, ready to douse the inferno. “Cynbel,” she hisses, “do not. You’re a fool if you even think you could.”

He bats her hand away. “Don’t you dare, girl, don’t you dare!”

But he’s too weak. Both of them are; it takes little effort for the Bloodqueen to force what’s left of the Trinity on their knees. Blood trickles from the corner of Isseya’s mouth — she would rather bleed out than cry out.

With her back turned from her Maker and King, Kamilah looks down at the pair of them with warning. Don’t do this, not here. But fuck — what else can they lose? What is it to be whole and lose the entirety of it?

That kind of love…

He shouts through Kamilah’s raised arm and meets the Godmaker’s eyes even from this place of weakness.

“Where is Valdemaras?!”

“You dare demand of me…”

“Bullshit—I refuse to believe you and your bitch —” he spits at her feet for good measure and the act earns him five deep wounds to the face, wounds that will heal in time but he almost wishes they would not, “— were the only survivors!”

He’s a spectacle of his own making. Both of them looked upon with younger eyes; ignorant. Ones who couldn’t possibly fathom the depth of their years, of the emotions threatening to tear him apart until he, too, is ash. They don’t know what we’ve done to get this far. They never will.

Except for perhaps Kamilah though she, too, is made less kind.

“They attacked at dawn. Knew the depths of the compound… of everything.” She speaks soft and all the while his blood drips from her fingertips. “Without warning there was… there was nothing that could be done.”

“Not that you would try.” Isseya hisses. They fumble blind in the growing light for one another’s hands.

Two thousand years up in smoke.

Gaius takes his sweet time approaching them. Revels in their grief, no doubt. All his parading about caring for his people yet they have always seen themselves as different, haven’t they?

He grabs Cynbel’s chin and forces him to look upward. It feels as though even the flames still around them. Not that it stops the Golden Son from trying again; even if it is in vain.

“How did you survive… and he…”

Because I am stronger. Because I am smarter. Because I am better. The Godmaker could say all of these things and more. Could behead them for their insolence and none, not even Sayeed, would raise a hand to stop him.

Cynbel braces himself for the onslaught… that never comes.

Gaius releases him, lets his hand fall down and because the Trinity know better they won’t call the look in his eyes remorseful so much as mockery.

“The man who stands upon your slumbering bedside with shackles does not intend to kill you. No, that is the man who holds the torch.”

He sees the grieving lovers, the words so ready to spill from their tongues, and stops them with a simple gesture. A finger over his own lips, a “ssshh…” that does not ask for silence but demands it. “Your lover, my ill-minded progeny — he refused my every attempt to feed him this night. ‘Not without them,’ he said—the fool. No doubt he was as starved as yourselves, as weak.

“Hunger can make easy prey of even the proudest of predators… as you well know.”

Isseya squeezes his hand. Were he to look over he’s sure he would see the same look reflected back at him.

Instead she’s fixated on Augustine. “The Order isn’t the type to take prisoners.” Prisoners are worth keeping. The Order would see them all burned.

It dawns on Cynbel, then. Spine rigid and eyes sweeping across the lawn, the road leading back to the heart of town and further; to the trees and their singed cover that would do them no good when the breeze decided to toy with their lives.

The Order would see them all burned… yet does not. They flee—cowards—back to where they think they are safe.

This revelation of Cynbel’s is something the Godmaker already knows.

“They took him.” Cynbel breathes.

Gaius nods. “Likely, else you must not have thought very much of him all these years—that you would survive and he would not. Valdemaras… he is as crafty as he is defiant.”

“You know where.”

“I have an inkling. Close enough for them to take advantage of such a window of opportunity.”

There are still so many questions. The ebb and flow of emotions on his weakened state has Cynbel in a fit, has him doubting every word he speaks, every one he hears. He is gone. The Devil wears so many faces…

And that his darling girl, his beloved Isseya chooses then to hold him tighter can’t be anything less than a sign.

Enough to bring Cynbel from his knees. To pull Isseya up beside him and hold her tight lest she, too, disappear from him on the fading smoke.

Gaius laughs at the sight of them. “I never understood his fascination with you two. But I’ll give him this — he knows how to make them loyal.”

All it takes is one glance to Sayeed behind him, the look in her eyes strange and foreign on her expression usually so calm and sure, for Cynbel to bite his tongue.

“Tell us,” only his darling could ever make a plea sound so strong, “please, Godmaker. We’ve done all that you asked —”

“And you will continue to do so. But I am… fond of Valdemaras. He should prove useful in the days to come.”

The Godmaker surveys them as a farmer might his stock. His next words almost an afterthought; “All of you should.”

It is an undertaking for them and them alone, the Trinity understands that. And though every moment spent breathing is one breath that may be their lover’s last to rush into it would be suicide. And he’ll be damned before he lets his death be at the hands of some worthless Order bastard playing soldier.

Charlottesville has finished burning. But the screams of her people last well into the night. They don’t stop for the setting sun or the moon and her stars. In fact they only get worse.

He drinks for strength and nothing more — unable to take enjoyment even in the way the young man’s body slumps to the ground, twitches like a fish out of a pond, and is still.

He’s barely had the time to wipe the remains of his meal from his chin when two pairs of boots come into his field of vision. Looks up just in time for Sayeed to toss a sheave of paper at his lap. He just barely catches it without letting the contents spill onto the blood-soaked dirt.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more foolish.”

Cynbel barks a laugh and directs his sneer to the pages rather than the woman herself. “Just you wait, little lotus. You’ve not seen the depths of my stupidity…”

The eyes that finally meet hers are red of hellfire, of blood and fury.

“Especially when it comes to my Lord and Light.”

Ambrose beside her looks as if to say something but thinks better of it and resigns himself to watching. They are an unusual pair, Cynbel knows. But how else does one describe two thousand years of finding middle ground on opposite sides?

Unusual is about the only word that could even breach the depth of them.

He sighs and holds up the folder, ash smearing over his skin at burned edges. “What is this?”

“A peace offering.”

“Peace, in times of war?” The weight on Cynbel’s heart is immediately lessened at the sound of Isseya’s voice — she approaches around the stocky build of their unwelcome voyeur and clings to her lover just as ardently. “Cut the shit.”

Kamilah’s teeth grind in her jaw.

“On this rare occasion, Trinity, you and I desire the same thing. With the safe return of your Maker you will, I hope, follow in the pattern you always have at the slightest sign of trouble.”

They raise eyebrows at her and Kamilah continues, convicted; “You will leave.”

“Virginia, oh yes.”

“No,” Kamilah shakes her head, “not just Virginia. In your hands you hold all that my King has gathered on the Order’s operations… I trust I don’t have to warn you they are likely to be more armed than the reports give.”

Isseya takes the papers and shuffles through them. Names of scouts, soldiers tabbed in Sayeed’s careful script along the edges. Cynbel stops at one marked ‘RAINES’ and pulls it free from the stack with one word holding him spellbound.

Shackles.

“The Godmaker mentioned shackles — did he mean this?”

There’s a grim moment where she almost looks as though she will not answer. “Perhaps,” she says finally.

The sketch is rudimentary but the notes around it are neat and tidy. It’s been ages since he’s actually read anything; something Cynbel hadn’t realized until just then.

What? He’s always been better with tongues than words.

But is Sayeed really only going to give them half of a gesture? Apparently his face is transparent; the sight of it deepens the furrow in the woman’s brow.

“I will tell you the rest.”

Isseya waves her off. “Yes yes, we know how this goes. ‘In exchange for,’ and all that. What do you want?”

“Your word.”

She asks for one but those two press down on their already so fucking heavy shoulders. Make the Trinity—a word that means three… are they even still such when only two remain?

Her lips on his neck don’t ease either of their burdens but, as always, her touch is enough. It isn’t hunger that makes him weak enough to grasp onto some—any—part of her… but sometimes weakness is just weakness.

“Your word,” Kamilah continues, “that you will tuck your tails and run the moment you are reunited.”

Which — he’s very much in favor for. But that isn’t Cynbel’s decision to make. “It was the Godmaker who sent for us. Who made us stay to fight his battles for him, payment for…”

He can’t seem to say the words. Lucky the Bloodqueen understands.

“And anyway — he will hunt us down if we break our word now.” Isseya raises a good point, yet Cynbel keeps his selfish protest inside his chest. If we break our word now everything will have meant nothing.

“Leave Gaius to me.”

“Mmm.”

“Enough of this. You want to leave and you are being given a free chance to do so. Why not take it?”

“Nothing with the Godmaker is ever free.”

Rather than continue to argue her rather her rather strange case Kamilah just extends a hand. Notices his reluctance only in that the last time they shook on anything Cynbel had been left with one less hand to hold. Ah, Columbia. Good times. Better than these.

But it’s always Valdas who makes these choices; who has a right to decide for the three of them. He is their God, their Maker, their guide. Who ferried them from one world into the next and… and he just isn’t that man. Could never be — he could never be…

And thanks to their beloved Valdemaras. For bringing Isseya into his life then so she could be here for him now. A decision made together to assuage the guilt.

Cynbel and Kamilah shake on it. He tries to contain his look of surprise when he pulls back the same number of fingers he’d offered.

He’ll hold up his end of the bargain. So she holds up hers.

“It wasn’t supposed to get this far. There wasn’t supposed to be a war.” And she’s right. He still remembers Valdas’ honeyed words that got him to agree to this shit in the first place. All of them resting on one thing.

This would be simple. It would be fun. It would take no time at all.

“And for a while things were in our favor. We had decades of resources, we had information, we even had the numbers. But they were like…” she shudders an exhale, “they were like dominoes. First the numbers fell. A fluke — luck to keep a cosmic balance. Turning to bolster our own worked in the beginning. But with each line branching off into the next the blood became… diluted.

“It was a risk worth taking. Until it wasn’t. Put a dozen soldiers in the ground and only two of them would wake up sound of mind. There was a small outbreak—an uncontrolled and unsanctioned Turning…”

Kamilah trails off, the stoic figure beside her takes up the mantle with astonishing gravitas. “My men and I put down just over twenty Ferals across Indiana. Countless more casualties in our wake, then the humans started blamin’ each other for the killin’s. We had to let it rest or the Order’s doctrine would become all but gospel.”

“Unless the next part of your story has anything to do with either one of you taking up blacksmithing, perhaps we should be moving on.” While Isseya glowers at the pair they’ve already lost Cynbel. His focus is back on the page in hand — trying to catch the whispers of a memory dredged up by a sigil traced at the corner.

Kamilah’s nostrils flare. Ambrose chooses to keep the peace. “Well — see — at the beginnin’ of the year it was quiet, a little too quiet. Found out then about a little excavation the Order had goin’ ‘round near old Salem.”

“Hypocritical bastard.”

Cynbel launches the folder carelessly and the papers within begin to scatter on the dead evening air. Isseya, knocked back by his outburst, looks ready to snap his neck for the trouble. But when she realizes it isn’t a tantrum, that true distress wracks through him violently, she just… holds on.

“What’s with you, beloved…?”

“A series of cursed objects were made for the trials that took place there. One man by the name of Corwin, the leader of the hunters and a member of the Order — we discovered this much later, too late perhaps. He led the witch hunts and needled out from the masses those with a true affinity for the craft.

“Corwin promised that should the witches create for him a series of tools and weapons for the Order’s crusade then they would be spared.”

She doesn’t have to say the rest. The implications are clear enough.

Isseya can’t help her disgust. “They preach of cleansing humanity in one breath and further themselves with witchcraft in another. Actually — can’t fathom why I’m even surprised.”

But despite what they now know their minds haven’t changed. Kamilah sees this and knows it to be true.

The surprised one between them is the New Blood, Ambrose. He looks between the vampires and though he’s come to understand the language of their silent gazes he can’t seem to believe his eyes.

“You still intend to go after your Maker?”

Foolish for him to even ask.

There’s a new rigidity to the man’s spine as he inhales — looks at Kamilah with all the respect of a soldier to his general. “Then allow me to accompany them — allow me to bring my men to fight at their backs.”

“We have no use for cannon fodder.”

Even Kamilah tries to stifle some aged amusement; a knowing the youngest among them does not yet covet. “Your intentions are noble, Ambrose, but you and your men are best served here. Should the Order attack again —”

“Will their mission not ensure there won’t be another attack?” And though he raises a fair point Cynbel still can’t believe his eyes when Sayeed actually considers his proposal.

His darling’s growls rumble deep in Cynbel’s bones. “Your pity will earn you no honor.”

“‘Tis not pity, milady,” dark eyes level on those of the Trinity open, honest; a strangeness neither of them are familiar with outside of their own covenant, “but another life lost to the Order — especially one so highly praised between Old Blood like yourselves — is another victory I will not abide. ‘The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men should do nothing.’”

Isseya’s doubt and disregard claw at him, make his new skin still pinkish in its rawness itch uncomfortably. Wordlessly Cynbel reaches back and cards his fingers through her hair. Comfort found as much as it is given.

“Better to have cannon fodder than to be confronted without it, my beloved.”

He seals her protests with his lips; swallows them down greedy and reminds her with every twist of his tongue that they do this for something far more important than they. They do this for Him.

But he has the decency to wait until he feels the yield of her under his fingertips. Pressed-together foreheads and meals not shared but tasted against the familiarity of two thousand years.

Cynbel regards Ambrose… and nods.

Though her ‘peace offering’ has found its way across the packed earthen floor and in a few cases fluttering out glasses windows, Sayeed seems contented with the outcome. She rests a hand on Ambrose’s shoulder and finds the gesture returned. “On your own head be it.”

But, truly, no threat seems to deter him. “May the light of the First guide us.” So focused on his own altruism, he misses the recoiling shudder of the Trinity.

Kamilah takes her leave of them — one last look to Cynbel like fresh ink on a contract. She has upheld her end… and will ensure he does the same.

“Be ready come midnight, the absent will be left behind.” Already Cynbel allows the tension to ease out of him at Isseya’s touch. The way she clings to him — not desperately but with just as much intention in the matter.

“Of course.”

Cynbel makes sure to wait until the man is several strides gone before calling back. “Oh, and — Ambrose, was it?” Balancing the scales of power even now to make the man turn back to them. “Leave your First shit among your belongings here. Salvation does not come in those who pray on bended knee even as the sword comes down upon their necks. The only person who can give you precious salvation is you.”

An entire sermon goes unspoken across Ambrose’s hard-worn frown. “It was merely a prayer to faith.”

“We are of a different faith.”

“Which would that be?”

He doesn’t deign to answer. Dismisses the man instead by turning bodily from him and allowing himself to fully embrace her — to try and touch her as though she is not all he has left in the world. He can feel her struggling with the same mindset with every kiss, every caress.

As He delivered them from their mortal confines they, too, will deliver Him from the hands of the Order. And if they are too late…

No gods, martyrs, saints will keep them safe. Not the Order, not the Godmaker, not even Sayeed. And dear Ambrose will learn the hard way that his precious First will never come. No matter how hard he screams at the end.

The Order will expect retaliation to come when their enemies are safest. So they plan their strike for midday.

Three of the twelve men that make up Ambrose’s brigade back out before they can say another word. They look to their leader for permission but he stays silent — and fools that they are the men take silence as permission.

Cynbel and Isseya watch as, with an almost imperceptible nod, three of their brothers-in-arms take aim and fire on the mens’ backs at thirty paces. Thirty, he knows, because he counts each step they take before they are beheaded with their own sabers.

It makes the Golden Son look at the New Blood with different eyes. A sight Ambrose must notice even if he doesn’t look away from the ritual of execution. “There’s no place in my men for cowards,” is his only explanation. It’s more than enough.

One of the few humans left in town—who takes that he has not yet been devoured as a sign that some night he might join their ranks, the fool—agrees to drive their caravan. The winds taste of an early winter and have blown away the smoke up high in favor of a bleak, almost colorless day.

Isseya leans over and whispers in his ear; “Does the world really look like that, or is it that no beauty is worth finding without Him?” Whispered as though she’s afraid saying it will make her day-mares come true. He doesn’t answer with words — throws an arm over her shoulders and pulls her in tight so that she may feel the tremors that wrack him still.

So that she may know her fear is not a sole burden to bear.

If they had the tools, the resources, the time to prepare they would. This is not something they undertake lightly — this life that means more to them than their own shouldn’t be left up to chance. But they don’t. No time to scout, no time to strategize.

A thought that has Cynbel wheezing a laugh while hunched over the woefully barren map of where the Order might have based their operations.

The pair of boots at the edges of his vision shuffle, unwittingly drawing his attention up to Ambrose’s carefully-masked confusion.

“Indeed even in this slop I know my beauty is striking — but if it hasn’t yet dawned on you, New Blood, I am spoken for.”

Ambrose’s gall is quickly smothered at the sight of Cynbel’s lips; barely tugging at the edges. The only smile he will ever grace again, says that fear the Trinity shares, but he ignores it.

“Such a terrible tragedy, I’m sure. But you’re not exactly my type.”

“Men?” He scoffs. “Give it a century or two.”

“No, not men.”

He doesn’t respond until Cynbel meets his gaze fully. Impressive man… he’ll give credit where (and when) it is due. “Then…?”

“Self-servin’ and more than a tad off your rocker.”

Point the second for the New Blood. Fascinating. And not entirely wrong.

Cynbel goes back to his map. Ambrose leans back against the rattling caravan beam and closes his eyes.

“I was thinking of the risks involved here. And what he would say if he could see me here lamenting over a plan.” Outside they can hear the pacing a mile off — Cynbel would know the sounds of Isseya’s waif-play anywhere. Whatever it takes to get them food before they strike.

“I should be grateful for the opportunity to forgo the rigidities of war. All this officers and commanders and following orders horse-shit. I should be reveling in the chance to do this my way.”

“An’ what way would that be?”

“The way of the hunter. Knowing only what will ensure your survival. Passion in the kill… in the feed.”

“Doesn’t sound like a very informed way to go into battle.”

Perish the thought. “Battle used to be an intimate thing. Death must come by the might of your own hand or not at all. And my hands have caused so much death.” Cynbel’s damnable voice cracks against his permission. “Yet he always treated them with such care; such reverence. As though I was made of glass.”

He doesn’t know if the other man stays silent on purpose or not — but he appreciates it nonetheless. Under normal circumstances he would only allow Isseya to see him so vulnerable. Surely she will forgive him this trespass, for these are not normal circumstances.

The smell of fresh blood is much closer when the new blood finally speaks again.

“This Maker of yours must be somethin’ special to inspire that kind’a loyalty.” And it’s a testament to how far this war has made them fall, isn’t it.

He could hold courts, give lectures, preach to the craven masses over the divine beauty of his lover and God. He has done, actually. A long time ago and an ocean away… Why is it now that words fail him?

Must be the hunger.

“You never knew your Maker, did you Ambrose?” asks Cynbel, but such a statement is telling — he already knows the answer.

“No, I didn’t. Can’t even put a face to ‘em.”

“Such a shame.”

“Why’s that?”

His fingers drift absently to his shoulder. To where Isseya usually rests like a perch — to the skin under his touch where his devotion was burned into him with fire and brimstone.

“A shame that you will never know the fulfillment that comes with that bond. I mean no offense —” he smirks at Ambrose’s immediately skeptical furrowed brow, “— I know, I’m just as surprised as you. But I would say such to any of our kind orphaned from the start. Isseya, my darling, she was blessed to have our Divinity and myself as guides. Before her — I know with certainty I would not have survived this long had the hand that pulled me into life not been the same one that felled me.

“Look to Augustine and Sayeed. I may wish to smear the Godmaker’s ashes across the known world but even I will not deny the strength of their connection. It has kept them alive for all this time at the very least. The sigils our Makers give us bind our minds to our bodies, yes, but they also serve a higher purpose.”

Fascinating then; the way something close to captivation changes so quickly. Not even hidden — no trace of it left on the suddenly worn, suddenly tired lines that tell but a drop of Ambrose’s vast story.

“Call ‘em what they are, Old Blood. They’re brands. And no way was I spendin’ my new life the way I spent my old one.”

It’s enough to pique Cynbel’s interest further.

“You weren’t marked after you Turned?”

“No.”

“How long ago?”

“Goin’ on twenty five years,” he raises his chin with much-deserved pride, “I’d like to think I’m proof a good, strong will is enough to do it. To keep you sane.”

In the Golden Son’s chest stirs an unfamiliar emotion — the only comparison he can muster being that of the sight of his lovers victorious. Respect, perhaps?

“I…” he doesn’t need preternatural hearing to catch Isseya’s growls of ill-content approaching the caravan; how easily he could let his words die—let the feeling die with it… and how strange that he does not.

“I cannot say I would have shown the same strength.”

Not a moment later one of the woven flaps is pushed aside to reveal Isseya in the closest thing she will ever allow to be called shambles; hair usually so carefully tucked away hanging in inky strings in front of her eyes or plastered in sweat on her brow, the hunt burning outward from her soul in crimson eyes and the fresh kill on her breath.

She sits beside Cynbel and immediately Ambrose and the map are things forgotten in her presence. He pulls the cap from her and makes careful work of combing her hair with his nails. She appreciates the gesture, says so in her half-smile, but they both know there is so little time for these moments.

After all, they may very well have only those moments left if they are too late.

“Go,” she pushes him back by the chest; urges her lover to stand and take his turn, “the pickings were scarce — you’re lucky I was able to stop myself.” Then, because she knows he will ask, she holds up a hand to stop their company before Ambrose can even open his mouth.

“Better to share than to have nothing.”

“You learn to take what you can get in times like these.”

She hums. “Indeed… they’ll be along shortly. New Blood could hardly keep up.”

The lovers reach out together. Take hands together and lock eyes together. Find comfort in one another together.

Cynbel turns and departs the caravan alone.

Augustine’s scouts were only half-right. Much like the Shadow King and his occupied town of human-chattel to ensure things were kept neat and tidy—or seemingly so—to the governors at the capital, the Order too has kept up appearances of some form or another.

It’s a small farming community — much like the outskirts of Charlottesville in barns dotted on the midday horizon. The one closest to the tree line is burned down, Cynbel notes. The trial run for their surprise attack no doubt.

And perhaps a more skeptical man would assume the children that run over the roads to the love of their mother’s skirts were no mere innocents — that they, too, were a part of the Order of the Dawn’s grand scheme to rid America of their kind. That every hobbling crone and well-bred young man is there because they choose to be; because they believe in the cause.

But Cynbel knows them too well to give in to paranoia.

One of Ambrose’s men, one who played executioner on his blood brother, makes the mistake of questioning that knowledge.

“I come from a town like this myself,” he says, “I know how deep the roots of faith go in these kinds’a places. Maybe… I mean maybe you’re rushin’ into this.”

Isseya’s hand twitches just shy of her lover’s. He holds her back only in that he will demand understanding of the fool before she strikes.

He leans in close and whispers low — for a moment Ambrose looks as if to pull the young man back; suspicion for the Trinity and their intentions clear even in the caravan’s shadow.

But the look passes, gone as quickly as it came.

He could grow to like this one.

“Are you suggesting that their faith is stronger?”

The creature pales; begins to understand what he’s done — and that he only has himself to blame. “No—no I —”

“Correct.” Not even at their full strength and his beloved is still faster, still better. Rounds upon him with the same hands that forced pagans to weep blood, to behold their God until it killed them. “What have they, Cynbel, numbers?”

She smirks up at him and for a moment all this suffering is undone. They are back in the halls of Versailles, the temples of Jaipur, the battlefields of the Old Days.

“Perhaps,” he nods to answer.

Her nails dig through the thick wool of the vampire’s uniform. Blood begins to bloom through the dark grey fabric. “What have they, Cynbel, weapons?”

“Perhaps,” he repeats.

“What have they, Cynbel, conviction?” If the fool were to scream all would be lost — their position discovered and their plan ruined before it could even begin. Though he might find screaming properly a difficult task as he watches in horror—not Cynbel, no, his eyes shine nothing short of worshipful—while Isseya swallows the meat of his tongue.

Let not her pretty face deceive… Isseya of the Veneti is the creature that judges all souls at the end.

Isseya smiles bloodstained, vicious; victorious.

“Let them turn to their God — we were here first. The Made-God Valdemaras with dominion over death-into-rebirth had altars drowned in the blood of his supplicants.”

Cynbel raises his chin with pride. Pride at their Divinity, pride at her ferocity. “Blood we spilled — his progeny, his lovers.”

She takes his ear next. Fleshy and red but Cynbel swears he can hear the crunch when her teeth come together.

The remaining battalion witness in silent horror. This is how his Priestess should always be revered.

“We don’t need numbers — for each body is an army unto itself. Strong, swift, one mouth gorging on an army’s feast.” His other ear she takes too — spits it to the wagon base at his boots. “We don’t need weapons — we are the weapons!”

Don’t play with your food, Valdas used to tell her under harvest moons and cloudless skies with the entire universe laid bare as their bodies. He would guide her; show her to feed with grace. And when his back was turned Isseya would continue to tear and mutilate with those bright eyes staring right at Cynbel. Daring him to keep her secret. Something only they could share.

He did. He has… all this time.

Going for the throat is the end of the game for their kind; same as the heart. The moment her righteous hand plunges through the front of him, palm open as a red flower blossoming, he has only moments until… poof.

“As for conviction…” The priestess’ voice softens. She watches her fingers drip blood as if in a trance… as if she doesn’t quite know the hand belongs to her. “We have two thousand years’ worth of conviction. Fuck their Almighty, and fuck your First Vampire. I choose to believe in a God who walks beside me. Who will answer when I call.”

The cloud of ash that follows her words plumes against the floorboards. Sticks to her wet hand and turns that beautiful flower into the gore that it truly is. Isseya holds them all under her thrall as she brings two fingers to her lips and sucks the fallen from them. But she only has eyes for Cynbel.

Valdas must be alive, he’s sure of it. Hell could not stand to suffer her wrath if it were otherwise.

“Anyone else hesitant?” Cynbel asks when he finally recovers himself. And all around him come varied degrees of submissiveness. Well… all but from Ambrose — but he will take the compliance in inaction.

Had they the time he would praise her, exalt her even. But there will be time for that later. There must be.

The smart thing to do would have been to wait until the night. But fortune lies with them as clouds gather overhead — not enough to blacken the sun but enough to burn, not kill.

Their driver gets them as close as he can. Cynbel pays him a broken neck as thanks.

He demands a handful of Ambrose’s men to go first. They look to their leader for guidance but he has remained uncharacteristically silent. But they have seen the lengths the Trinity will go to now and make the smart decision not to earn their ire.

Ambrose moves as if to join them. Cynbel darts a hand out against his chest — holds him back for reasons his mind has yet to even tell his body.

Luckily Isseya knows his body better than any. “Noble for an officer to join his underlings in battle. But there is no need for it here.” The blade she draws is, like her mistress, stained with the blood of their enemies.

“They’re my men. How can I expect them to go where I would not lead?”

“Cannon fodder goes first.” There’s a glee to her words that leaves Ambrose paling even as the rest pour out to spread their wrath. He glares at Cynbel with eyes of red wrath. The Golden Son backhands him for good measure.

“You’re sending them out there without any artillery!”

The Trinity exchange amused looks. Cynbel reaches out — cares little for how the other man flinches at even the possibility of his touch — and pats his cheek like a scolded babe.

“Have you ever seen what really happens to us in the sunlight?”

“Come, come!” Isseya cackles, delighted, and rushes out in a blur of motion to witness carnage on both sides.

Admittedly he’s a little disappointed the first one combusts before they clear the caravan. But just as he shoves Ambrose into the day—following close behind—a second catches flame right before their very eyes. Cannon fodder, indeed.

If the soldier has any thoughts of arguing they’re dashed as soon as he sees the satisfaction in Cynbel’s eyes. “You insisted,” he reminds Ambrose, and of course he had taken advantage of the only weapons available to him.

His satisfaction is short-lived as the sun takes its hold on him. Smoke hissing along his skin, a thousand daggers as he turns his head up to bask in the glory of it.

Panic has taken hold of the disposable soldiers. The thing about catching fire is it fucking hurts and tends to inspire irrational acts. Why else would they have kept it from them? They scatter across the wooden cabins on every side and run as blurs of burning flesh to the fields of wheat and cotton around. An endlessly burning sea.

See how it feels. This is but a day in the century of suffering he will inflict upon each and every soul. There are no innocents here.

“Rrragh!” A man comes running out from around a burning cabin with a gardening scythe above his head and a death wish written all over his fearful face. Cynbel spares him little effort; grasps his scrawny face in a single wide palm and twists it backwards so he doesn’t have to look at it.

Two burning vampires fall upon a woman before her crossbow can take proper aim. All these years later and the Order still sticks to the classics. It’s almost nostalgic.

Then her hand is in his — fascinating, really, the numbing quality of a lover’s touch. She cannot take his pain away, as he cannot take hers. But together it is easier to endure. That’s love though, isn’t it.

Every place the Order has hidden has one constant; the one thing Cynbel was sure of even when all else remained uncertain.

The church is a tiny thing, but well-maintained. Where every else building was falling to disrepair this chapel smells of fresh paint; the garden lining the entrance well-cared for and loved.

How terribly predictable the faithful were.

The lovers rest their free hands on either door; turn to look at one another in the light and she, too, holds back tears in her eyes. Tears of loss, of love, of the pain that is no longer content to prick at them and now seeks to peel their flesh from their bones.

They rip the doors from their hinges and enter.

The bulk of the Order’s soldiers stand before them. Weapons drawn, faces grim, determined; resolute. Back in the old days armor was worn in place of silly cloth uniforms — but Cynbel will admit he rather enjoys that the fools haven’t found a suitable replacement for helmets. He enjoys watching their faces while they scream.

His gaze sweeps across the enemy fierce and takes in the now-familiar symbol that rests like a false guardian over their breasts. The embroidered fleur-de-lis as persistent as those who wear it. But beside the golden threads he comes to recognize with no small amount of surprise the patchwork they create as a united front. A quilt of officers, commanders; those who have taken it upon themselves to stitch a count of their kills on arms and collars. The Order’s finest all gathered in one place.

Yet they must be, too, the Order’s most foolish. For they face their enemy as one and turn their backs to the true evil they hold captive at the pulpit.

The very sight of Valdas again is a relief that cannot be put into words. His head hangs weak, gaping wounds across his bared flesh trying desperately to close themselves — but he’s too drained. He’s just left there, bound in a wooden chair with rusted shackles, looking like his skin is alive and breathing.

The relief passes and the void left is quickly filled with rage, ferocity. Isseya’s hand clenches his hard enough to break bone and may very well do so but nothing so simple as his own agony would stop them now.

“See,” barks one with a collar littered in crimson thread, “told you some’d be fools enough to come!”

Around them come murmurs of agreement, the clicking of wooden bolts being pulled back into place on crossbow springs, sabers drawn and the smell of gunpowder freshly packed.

Cynbel inhales it deeply. Doesn’t scent nearly enough fear in the air but give it time… give it time.

“The only fools I see are the mortals who court death so readily.”

Valdas’ head snaps up at the sound of Isseya’s voice; seeks them across the room with the fire that claimed him trapped in his eyes. “You should not be here,” he growls — struggles against the shackles that bind him to a simple wooden chair seemingly in vain.

But his lovers know better — know their Lord and Light does nothing without divine intention. The smell of his burning flesh assaults Cynbel’s nose but the more they know in these few precious moments of stillness the better.

“What, not having any fun?” Cynbel calls with a half-hearted chuckle; knows he will pay for it later — when they are far from this place.

“You know I have always preferred to inflict the pain, beloved.”

When Isseya steps forward the Order spurs into action with raised weapons and fingers poised on triggers. “Patience is a virtue, Valdas.”

His laugh is weak, more a wheezing exhale than anything else, but it’s enough for them. “Not one of mine…”

Outside their attack rages on but in here the stillness is almost fateful. It clings to the human’s necks in sweat and growing agitation and keeps the Trinity divided. But it is so very brittle. So easily broken.

All it takes is finding the weakest link — a trembling figure near his back, a brave lamb who thinks to prove herself worthy. Her shuffled footsteps are deafening.

She fires her pistol before Cynbel can even turn his head. And lodges itself wetly in the belly of an Order member across the room.

And really he should be considered gracious that he gives the lamb the chance to see her mistake, to watch the man cry out and clutch his bleeding side as he falls to his knees — they are in a church after all. She should know the risks that come with crossing them; crossing him.

“Now look what you’ve done…” Cynbel’s hands fall on her shoulders and hold her still just long enough; to watch the tears horror that pales into sour fear on her face that he sacrifices seeing for the thrill of the hunt.

He snaps her neck and all hell breaks loose.

It is the violence Cynbel has been denied since the beginning. Long years of agony tasting of carnage and destruction but not given the chance to really revel in his actions — not before they were called to move onward. The humans are on the precipice of their own war, said to him once, but it must come in its own time.

He feels the sting of a bolt in the meat of his arm; cries out a raging behemoth and swipes the offender’s head clean from his shoulders.

Across the aisle Isseya rips her blade across a man’s belly and opens him from the inside out. His organs made a bloody procession for which she steps on.

Blood splatters the walls, the pews. The certainty of seeing their God driving the lovers forward in the destruction of this gathering of butchers. They don’t know the meaning of the word — but they will now.

In his mind’s eye Cynbel remembers the map on Augustine’s wall and undoes the threads of it in every movement. Battles unwon in every man torn limb from limb, the tides of war changed as they grow stronger with every feed. They carve themselves a path to their Maker and, with it, rip the victory the Order had so foolishly thought they could claim from their feeble and mortal hands.

It’s a kind of bloodlust he hadn’t felt in over a thousand years. Beautiful, bright; blinding.

Just enough for him to miss the half-faceless man who charges towards the altar with a war cry on his missing lips and a splintered railing of wood clutched in his fist.

“DIE! FOR THE OR—!”

The Children of the Made-God would have been too late. A knowledge they carry like a burden; a stain on their souls for what short time they would have remained in the world of the living together… before they sought to join him in whatever comes after death.

Cynbel drops the heart wrenched from a general’s chest. Doesn’t even look as it beats it’s last inches from the owner’s face. Isseya, too, with her mouth shoved into a wayward throat pulls back and in doing so shreds it to ribbons. The bloody mask she wears twisted wretched beyond compare. Her terror, his desperation.

They witness — as they have done everything since the moment Valdas left their side — together that the human falls to his knees; silenced by his own hand.

No, not his.

Valdas licks at the blood speckled fresh on his starving lips. The clarity is gives him is immediate; the color rushing to his cheeks. He looks to meet the eyes of his lovers but instead finds them fixated on something — someone — at his back.

His anger was the only thing holding the Golden Son on two feet; a fact he comes to terms with as his knees buckle and he collapses on all fours. There’s a wailing echoing ghastly from rafter to rafter overhead and he realizes quickly the voice is his own but it isn’t enough to make him stop.

And it is with the same uncertainty as before that Ambrose looks upon the Order’s congregation and slaughter. His blistering skin is made new in the church’s shadow, so little blood staining his coat that it could only have come from the dead soldier at their feet.

There’s nothing else Valdas can do but take in his lovers and their weakness. The ache it brings to his heart only matched by the physical pain that comes when unfamiliar hands grasp at the manacles that hold him victim.

Ambrose grunts with the effort but finally wrenches one free; holds his wounded palms close to his chest but it is more than enough.

At once they are upon him. Cynbel at his ankles and Isseya on his other hand, both of them weathering the pain because they cannot imagine doing otherwise.

When he is finally freed Valdas stands over them. Wavering, but alive. Made whole in the mere presence of one another.

Then there’s a soft thud and the noise forces open eyes Cynbel hadn’t realized he closed. No longer above them, Valdas too rests on his knees to look at them not on high… but as an equal.

Isseya reaches out first. Touches the edges of a gaping wound on Valdas’ cheekbone with trembling reverence. It’s a movement he mirrors on her, then upon them both. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Unable to find—or manage—the words that may not yet exist.

His gaze says enough.

I thought I’d lost you.

What is he supposed to say to that? Cynbel finds himself looking to Isseya for answers but she’s just as lost. Just as vulnerable and a breath, a touch away from crumbling to dust.

Two thousand years. One hundred and thirty seven fights. Eight months altogether spent apart and too many acts of love to count. Five excruciating times he nearly lost them — now six.

And in a rare first Cynbel looks into the eyes of what is by all accounts a complete stranger and whispers “Thank you.”

#bloodbound #playchoices #playchoices fanfiction #kamilah sayeed #gaius augustine #oc: cynbel #oc: isseya #oc: valdas #oc: ambrose #oblv: bound by choice #oblv: new chapter #; my fics

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madfatty · 7 years ago

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the space between - an mmfd fic #22

We find ourselves once again, standing on the front step of 18 Elm Park Road, Stamford, with a six pack of Breezers under our arm and swiping lip gloss from our teeth one last time. This one goes off-script which is not my usual way of doing things at all, but we do end up at the same place eventually, I’ve just chosen an alternate, and some might say arduous, road to get there. I couldn’t sustain the fluff levels of the last one but hopefully you’ll find one or two things to smile at. It’s me though, so you might have to work for them. ;)

I should warn you that my Fizzy love got the better of me and while this is indeed, as they all are and will ever be, about Rae and Finn, this is pretty much a blatant, bold-faced love letter to our Miss Izzy. Chloe however, does not fare as well. I hope you’re okay with that.

I’ve quoted big Willy Shakespeare in this one, again, not my usual way of doing things but, you know, go with it if you can.

The title comes from the Dave Matthews Band song of the same name from the Everyday album. I think I may have used it before for something I wrote in a different fandom, proving that my laziness goes to the bone.

Once again and always, big massive ugly love to @how-ardently because she deserves it, and after my behaviour on this one, wads of stress money, quite frankly. Writing this has revealed to me something about myself that Erin must have known for ages now; I’m a huge drama queen. I have apologised profusely. How on earth do people write whole books?

Anyway, onwards and inwards (that one’s from the skinny one who plays Marnie in Girls.) Thanks for playing.

the space between

The pervading ooze of over-excited teenagers, spliff, nicotine and booze hangs in a dense low cloud just below the ceiling of all the downstairs rooms, lingers at the bottom of the stairs. It’s so thick she can taste it. She doesn’t know if it’s made its way upstairs but she can wait to find out. She can’t go back up there. Too afraid of who and what she’ll find. Embarrassed and confused, she couldn’t bring herself to go back to her room with all the others in there, scared they’d take the piss; her and Finn, what a joke. So she’d spent the rest of the night wandering aimlessly from room to room, a ghost at the feast. Everywhere there are groups of people she’s never met before, laughing and talking and totally unaware of her existence. It may be her house, but she feels like the intruder.

Even with her friends, she feels separate and strange. Something’s got hold of her tonight, something worrying and familiar and she can’t get past it. Danny’s in the dining room, chatting up Anna and making friends. Archie’s in the front room with Barney and Lizard. Archie’s been a bit besotted since Barney kissed him and they’ve been circling one another, using Lizard as a buffer. Still, Archie looks hopeful. Chop’s been pretty quiet since Izzy kissed him, he hasn’t really spoken to anyone for a while, and now he’s lying in front of the sideboard wrapped in Christmas lights, staring soulfully into space.

She’s not seen Izzy. Or Chloe. Or Finn. Maybe they’re upstairs. Maybe they’ve gone home. She hopes so.

Her act of teenage rebellion has worn her out. It’s late and there are too many people left in her tiny house. She has an overwhelming urge to stand at the front door and call “Time please,” and have them all shuffle out in a quiet and orderly line. Instead she resentfully gathers up all the glasses she can find and heads to the kitchen.

She needs tea and for everyone else to go home. She just wants her house back. She moves about the kitchen mechanically, filling the kettle and then the sink, dumping the dirty glasses into the steaming hot water. She rummages around in the back of the cupboard, pulling her favourite mug from its hiding place and settling in to wait for the kettle to boil.

She catches herself rearranging the fixings - tea, sugar, milk, spoon – in order of size, of application, of expiration date over and over on the worktop. She makes herself look out the window – are they… are those people fucking in her driveway? That’s all she needs, Mrs Dewhurst running over with a bucket of cold water and a policeman by the scruff of the neck with a full written report back to her mother about debauched goings-on in her absence.

She breathes deeply and lowers her hands into the scalding hot water, hissing in satisfaction and relief.

+++++

She hadn’t meant to, but with too many Breezers in her system and all the crying she’d done with Finn and the eternal frustration that was Chop, Izzy had passed out. Spin the bottle had been a complete waste of time, it hadn’t landed on her once and she didn’t want to think about what it meant that Chop was doing the spinning. Even at the end, when he’d finally kissed her and she showed him up, like he’d done to her at Rutlands, she hadn’t felt vindicated. She just felt lonely and confused. The sourness of the whole evening sits like acid in her belly.

She comes awake slowly, to some kind of noise. Her eyes are gummed shut and her tongue is thick with the sugar from the alcopops but there is definitely a noise. Her first thought is that Finn is crying again. He’d moved to the floor from the bed and fallen asleep on the beanbag. Izzy croaks his name. The noise gets louder; it’s wet and breathy, there’s a groan and it’s making her uncomfortable. Izzy finally prises her eyes open and she squints into the gloom.

The curtains are open and the combination of moonlight and streetlight lend themselves to Izzy being able to make him out lying not far from the edge of the bed. Finn’s shadow looks bigger than it should be. She calls again and she notices the shadow’s moving. There’s a girl, snaked around him, pinning him down. She’s got a handful of his hair, holding him still, her jaw working at his throat. His fingers are flexing at her hip, hitching her dress up high enough to reveal a skimpy pair of knickers. Izzy recognises the dress, if not the knickers.

She watches, horrified, as Chloe trails her other hand over the bare skin of his ribs down to boldly squeeze his cock over his jeans. Finn groans again.

“Oi! I’m in the bloody room, if you don’t mind!” Izzy yells and reaches to switch on the bedside lamp. Her voice sounds excessively loud in the dark and all three of them wince against the volume and the sudden brightness of the light. She’s even less happy now she can see them.

Finn’s discarded t shirt is pooled in a ball on the floor. His lips are swollen and Chloe’s mascara has smudged, the zipper of her dress is open all the way down to her navel. Finn tries to pull the edges of the dress closed before doing up his own fly. There’s no hiding the fact he’s hard.

“Sorry, Iz.” Finn mumbles into his lap. Embarrassed, he sits up quickly, having to push Chloe off of him to do so. Chloe rolls away, pissed off.

“I should bloody think so.”

He looks guiltily at Chloe and regretfully at Izzy. “Yeah. I’m gonna go…”

“Good idea,” Izzy grumps and watches him as he hastily heads for the door, hands over his crotch, his shirt forgotten. She turns her steely gaze on Chloe when he’s gone.

Chloe lounges back on her elbows, looking defiant and unrepentant. “Ta very much for that, Izzy. What do you think you were you playing at?”

“What was I playing at?”

“Finn’s a big boy Iz; he can do what he wants.”

“What he wants Chlo, or what you want?”

Chloe doesn’t answer. With a shimmy of her hips, she pulls her dress down to its proper length, such as it is, and pulls the zipper back up almost to where it started out the night. With a roll of her eyes she picks up Finn’s discarded t shirt and follows him out the door.

++++

She’s focused on the hypnotic slow-building bubble and hiss of the kettle working its way to the boil, so Rae doesn’t hear him coming.

“Hey,” he says to her back and his voice makes her jump, brings her back into the room where the radio’s on low and the sink is only half full. She recovers quickly though, and without looking up from her reddened hands she offers him a quiet “hey.”

She wants to look up. She wants to smile widely at him and ask about his night but she can’t. She regrets listening to Danny at all, because, surely there comes a point where the person you’re pushing away gets fed up and moves on?

And it is so hard to maintain. What is so bad about smiling when he smiles? It’s not an admission of anything deeper if she’s nice to him, she doesn’t lose anything by being kind. So she resolves to be both those things, promises herself to be friendlier - until she sees him or hears his voice, there’s a visceral, kneejerk response, overriding her heart and her head and all her good intentions. All her resolutions dissolve and she’s back to spiteful and ungracious. She doesn’t know if it’s still Danny’s voice she can hear or her own fear that’s driving it. No matter how much she wants to let all the bullshit go, she can’t bring herself to just let it be and let it happen. As in all things, she is her own worst enemy.

She keeps her eyes lowered as she feels him walking up behind her. She hears him pick up one of the glasses she must have washed from the draining board. He crowds her, his bare arm cutting across her vision as he reaches for the tap and her reaction is to shy away from him. She closes her eyes and counts under her breath to the sound of the sudden rush of running water filling the glass.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice becoming an echo as he takes a mouthful. It’s a harmless, silly question that shouldn’t bother her but it’s exactly the sort of thing that feeds her anger.

“Retiling the bathroom, obviously,” she spits, violently rolling her eyes.

“You don’t need to do that now. We’re going to clean up in the morning.”

“Oh, I hadn’t realised you were in charge.”

“We all decided last night that we’re staying, we wouldn’t leave you to clear up on your own. You’d have known that if you’d stuck around a little longer.” He mumbles into the rim of the glass as he takes another sip. He doesn’t bother to hide the bitter edge to his voice. So, he’s still pissed at her. She can’t really blame him, she supposes, but fuck if it doesn’t get her back up.

“No-one asked for your help, Finn. I can manage on my own.” She huffs, unable to stop herself.

“Jesus, Rae. I apologised for being a dick. I’m trying really hard, but every little thing still gets turned into an argument. Why is it still like this? Tell me how to fix it.” There’s something sitting along-side the usual annoyed tone he uses when he speaks to her. It’s that same slightly bewildered, slightly hurt voice he’d used in the cupboard earlier. The one that had her doubting the wisdom of heeding Danny’s dating advice, the one that made her momentarily brave enough to hazard a tentative statement of her own.

It’s the one that makes her soften now. What real harm can it do to be gentler with him?

Rae finally turns to face him, trying to fasten a smile to her lips, something warmer than she’s ever shown him before. He’s not his usual immaculately turned-out self. In fact, he’s decidedly rumpled. His overly fussed-over hair is sticking out at the back. He’s red eyed and red nosed and quiet. There’s an angry bruise beginning to purple the tender skin of his throat and a flaking smear of lip gloss rings his mouth and his normally pale skin is flushed; his face, his neck his chest, his… oh.

He’s not wearing a shirt.

He’s been fucking someone.

In her house.

Someone that isn’t her.

Fuck Danny Two Hats and his stupid advice and fuck her for ever listening to him. And double fuck Finn Nelson for fucking someone who isn’t her in her own house and flaunting it under her nose. She’s a little heartbroken and more than a little pissed off. She pushes down the heartbreak and focuses on the anger.

“Vampires, was it? Lose your shirt in the scuffle?” In her house. Which vampire? She can’t let herself think about it now. She can torture herself with those thoughts later. She needs for him to leave.

“What?”

She waves her hand in the general vicinity of his throat. He pokes experimentally at his neck and winces when he grazes over the bruise. He has the good grace to look embarrassed.

“Put a shirt on, would you? You’ll have someone’s eye out.” She barks and he immediately folds his arms self-consciously. It only serves to piss her off more. He’s obviously not shy if he’s going to fuck someone who isn’t her in her house. What on earth has he got to be bashful about?

“You can talk.” he mumbles. Even before he’s finished speaking, his eyes and mouth go wide, gaping, his face is incandescent.

They’re talking about bodies. Rae doesn’t talk about bodies, especially her own. She feels that if she doesn’t draw attention to it, then maybe no one will notice she has one. Rae’s own blush seeps into her hairline. She tries to turn it back around on him.

“I’m not the one who’s half naked.”

“Like that would matter.” He thinks he must be having an aneurysm. Where is this shit coming from? He’s spent most of his life like Silent Sam, couldn’t offer most people a complete sentence if they threatened him at gunpoint and now it seems he’s got lots to say about Rae’s tits. It’s like he can’t help himself. “I… I…” he stammers.

“Seriously, put your nipples away. And wipe your face.” She throws the tea towel that’s draped over her shoulder at him. He snatches it up quickly and ties it round his neck so it hangs like a bib down the front of him, swiping at his face with the bottom of it. He looks ridiculous. He looks like a confused little kid, trying to play at superheroes but not quite sure how the costume’s meant to go. It doesn’t help that there’s a cartoon giraffe eating cake with a monkey on it either.

“Thanks,” He smiles up at her. It’s small and grateful and she marvels at how easily he lets go of the anger. How eager he is for everything to be okay.

“Can I have one of those?” he asks, pointing at the forgotten tea things on the worktop. Just a second ago, she wasn’t anywhere near finished being angry with him, but she’s hit by a sudden wave of fatigue and just like that, she decides to let it go. She does, however, make a very big show of being put upon as she flicks the kettle back on and gets out another mug.

They are a collection of nervous tics in the silence that follows; a therapist’s wet dream. Both of them a compilation of biting cuticles, tapping fingers and tuneless humming. There are furtive looks at each other and much fidgeting with clothing. She’s anchored herself to the sink with a death grip. He’s hovering at a radius of four feet. It makes her feel claustrophobic.

“No point standing around.” She says finally. A little too loud. “You may as well sit.” She gestures to the breakfast bar at the other end of the kitchen.

“Are you going to…?”

“I have to be hostess…” she waves her hand at the kettle.

“Then it’s okay. I’m good here.” He says and leans back against the counter, randomly picks up the teaspoon from the bench. “Good party?” He asks, fiddling with the spoon.

“The house is still standing and no one called the cops so… I guess not.” It’s more a smirk than a smile, but it’s better than nothing.

“Did I hear right, that those three twats turned up?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“From Friday.”

Friday. She’d wanted to forget all about last Friday. Her tantrum and the dragging ache in her belly and the tidal wave of blood in her knickers and those fuckers catching her outside the chippy, but if she erased all that, she’d have to forget about how Finn had stepped in and stopped it and that was something she would never forget. She’d never seen anyone so angry. She watched the internal battle, the deliberate way he calmed himself. Watched the anger drain from his face, his body still tense, his fists still clenched but his voice almost normal when he asked if she was alright.

“Oh. Yeah.” she mutters. “Those guys.”

“Why didn’t you come get me?” he murmurs, and the hurt on his face stops her short. It feels like an accusation. The truth was he hadn’t even been one of her first ten thoughts. She was frozen in the moment and couldn’t think past getting them away from the house.

“There was no need. Danny had it sorted.” She finally stumbles out.

“Danny?”

“Yeah, Danny.”

“Oh. Right.” There’s an awkward moment of silence that follows, where he looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how to start. There have been a lot of moments like that lately and he’s never once said anything, so she’s not really expecting it when he does. “Rae, about last Friday…”

There’s a hollowness shading his big dark eyes and the set of his full wide mouth.

“What about it?” – please don’t ask me what they were saying please don’t ask me why I didn’t stand up for myself please please please.

She knew he’d heard them, he must have.

She’d been so careful to keep it all separate, the constant exhausting battle to hide her real life from her new friends, but now he’d seen it first-hand. She was able to pretend that it didn’t exist in front of the gang. If she was loud enough, if she was funny enough, she could distract them from the truth. She could hide the way she looked if she could hide the way other people treated her, but now he’d heard the ugly words used to describe her and now the ugly thoughts would fill his head; the blinders had come off and he would see her the way the rest of the world did and it would only be a matter of time until he let the others know. How could he not see her through their eyes now that the spell had been broken?

But then he’d done something so totally unexpected; he came to her rescue.

“I’m sorry you saw me like that. I don’t want you to think that I’m like that all the time. It’s just, I couldn’t let them… it weren’t right. I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

It had been a long time since he’d hit anyone. He’d come to learn, thanks to his dad and old George down at the gym that fighting was not the way to solve his problems. But when he’d seen her cornered by those bastards, he couldn’t help it. The look on her face had unsettled him. She’d been full of fire in the chippy, fierce and afraid of no one. She’d been something to behold, and then…

He hadn’t understood fully at the time what it meant, he only knew that whatever it was that had done that to her, he wanted to hurt it.

“You didn’t frighten me. Like I said, no one’s ever stood up for me before. I was surprised is all, that it was you.” Rae whispers.

He relaxes a little at that. Some of the tension visibly drops from his shoulders.

“Look,” he starts. His voice is low, and he has her full attention. “What you said in the cupboard, I don’t know what I’ve done… but we are friends, Rae. Well, I’m your friend. I’m always gonna stick up for you.”

It startles her when he pushes off from the counter, straight for her, and she steps aside hurriedly. He drops his empty glass into the cooling washing up water. “Now that you’ve got your head out of your arse. Mostly.” He murmurs over his shoulder as he returns to his spot leaning back against worktop.

Rae blinks rapidly, working her way through what he’s just said, then chokes back a laugh.

“Excuse me?” She reaches forward and flicks at his makeshift backwards cape. “You and your novelty tea towel can fuck off any time you like.” The fact that she’s smiling is a huge relief to him.

“Can’t. I’ve got tea coming.” He says, grinning madly. “Okay, so maybe I had my head up my arse a little bit too. Can we call a truce? Please?”

“Do I have to be nice to you?”

“Well,” he draws the word out. “Some of the time, at least. Birthdays and Christmas. ”

She screws her face up in pained deliberation and he takes great delight in mirroring her expression. “I guess so.” She says dryly.

He looks way too pleased with himself.

“Rae…” Finn starts, his smile beginning to wane.The kettle whistles for a second time.

Before he can finish the thought, Chloe emerges from the hallway. Rae feels every inch of the night hang heavy on her, stale and lank and grimy and Chloe steps into the light like she should be giving lessons in how to be a girl.

The second skin of her yellow dress hugs her gently around her hips, skims the flatness of her belly, and the smooth arc of her arse, its hem hitting her mid-thigh, highlighting the long expanse of well-toned, leg. Her zipper has artfully slipped to reveal the lace edge of her bra and curve of her breasts sitting high and firm above it. Her hair shimmers in the harsh light as does the perfectly applied lip gloss that matches the shade that still clings to the corners of Finn’s mouth.

Oh.

Rae feels all the air leave her body. Chloe arranges herself at Finn’s side, her hip jutting into his. He tenses and slides along the counter away from her, towards Rae who takes a step back herself. She pours all her attention into pouring tea.

“So this is where you got to. You forgot your shirt.” The shirt hangs from Chloe’s fingers between them like a challenge. “Though this is cute,” she smirks, her fingers tapping on his chest, “you should probably put it on,” she stage-whispers, her eyes raking over him appreciatively. “Rae’s not used to half-naked men, are you babe?”

“Thanks,” he mutters, taking the shirt and hastily slipping it over his head. He pulls the tea towel out from under it and twists it between nervous hands.

“We’re talking. Rae and me. Rae’s making tea.” He murmurs, deliberately moving away from the spot Chloe seems keen to pin him to. He remembers the spoon he’s been fidgeting with and offers it to Rae with a broad smile, an act of solidarity between them.

“Tea and a chat. Not exactly E’s and Whizz now, is it? I think it’s safe to say, our Rae’s no party girl.” Chloe turns to offer Rae a half smile. “God, you look done in, babe. Do you feel alright?”

With just a handful of words, Chloe reminds Rae of her place. All tonight’s anxieties are amplified. Deflated, Rae leaves the tea half done and moves towards the door.

“Actually Chlo, I’m not feeling the best. I’m going to turn in. You’re right to finish this, yeah Finn? Night.”

“Night babe,” Chloe purrs.

“Rae.” Finn calls after her.

“Night.” She calls back as she trudges through the toxic teenage haze on her way upstairs.

+++

She thought she wanted to be alone but when she’s sees Izzy lying on the bed, flicking through one of her romance novels, she’s glad for the company. Izzy looks up and smiles that warm Izzy smile and waves the book in front of her.

“This is well hot. Can I borrow it?” and she carefully dog-ears the page she was reading and sits up, putting the book aside. “So how are you gorgeous? How’s your night been?”

Difficult. Anxious. Disappointing. The boy I like likes someone else and I’m tired and sad. She doesn’t say any of it. What purpose would it serve? Instead, she takes a deep breath and slips on the mask for one more performance.

“It’s definitely been a night.” She rolls her eyes dramatically. “You should see the mess downstairs. I’m not looking forward to that.”

“There’s plenty of time tomorrow. We’ll give you a hand, it’s already arranged…” Izzy chirps, waving her hand dismissively.

“So Finn said. That’s really nice of you all.”

“Pfft, nice. Of course we’re going to help. It’s what mates do.” Izzy shifts along the bed to make room for Rae.

“And what about you, Madam? How’d you fare?”

“I could use a cuddle,” Izzy whines, throwing her arms wide. “Know where I can get one?”

“I just might know someone.” Rae grins as she sits down next to Izzy and pulls her into a hug. “This isn’t ‘cause that book’s got you all revved up, is it?” she deadpans, pulling away to look Izzy in the face.

“You wish.”

“Pity,” Rae sighs, and they collapse against each other in a fit of giggles.

“You know what I really need? I need to play with someone’s hair. Lie down here for me Rae.” Izzy orders, patting her outstretched legs.

“Nah, thanks Izzy, I’m good.” It’s not an easy thing for Rae, to be touched. For such a long time it was a cruel thing, so she learned to avoid it. And now to be touched with such care, and so often, by these people who have taken her in is overwhelming. She can only handle it in small doses.

“Don’t ‘nah, Izzy’ me, Rae Earl. I’m a guest, you can’t say no to me.”

“Are you sure that book didn’t give you any ideas?”

“Oh, shut up and lie down.” Izzy bosses, as she takes Rae by the shoulders and guides her down to settle in her lap.

“You know if this gets pervy, Chop’ll want to watch.” Her joke earns her a light smack on the arm and a small huff of laughter that doesn’t go all the way to Izzy’s eyes. Rae can’t help think of Chop in his deep meditative state downstairs.

All Rae’s worries about crushing the tiny redhead vanish when Izzy’s slight fingers card slowly through her hair. Her muscles loosen and the anxiety falls away under Izzy’s soothing touch. It feels good. Rae remembers a better time, when she was little and her mum would hold her in her lap and stroke her hair. There’s a sudden pang in her chest and however pissed off she is with her for lying about her dad, she misses her mum.

“You have such pretty hair, Rae.” Izzy murmurs, wistfully. She seems to be enjoying the process almost as much as Rae, but there’s a far off look in her eyes, a soft melancholy that flattens her usual shine.

You sure you’re okay, Iz?” Rae rolls forward and props herself up on her elbows so she can look Izzy in the eye.

“Hmmm? Yeah. Just thinking about stuff.” She curls her palm around Rae’s shoulder. “Did Finn tell you? His Nan died.”

“What? No. He never said a word.”

“She’d been sick for a while. Finn and Mr Nelson were convinced she’d get better, she had before, so they just thought… but she took a turn for the worse tonight and like that, she was gone.” Izzy’s voice is thick with unshed tears. “It was very fast in the end but he feels bad he wasn’t there.” She swallows hard and sniffles.

“It was awful. I wanted to take him home but his dad was stuck at the hospital and Finn didn’t want to be by himself. I told him I’d stay with him but he didn’t want to go. I hope you don’t mind, we grabbed some beers and came up here to hide out. He was so sad. We cried for a bit and then we both got a little drunk and we cried some more, then I put him to bed and we fell asleep.”

“Poor Finn.” Rae says, her own eyes wet. He’s been going through all that, probably for as long as she’s known him and she’d been too caught up in her own stupid feelings to notice.

“When I woke up, Chloe was all over him.” Izzy says it quietly, but the sadness in her tone is replaced with steel.

“Izzy!”

“It’s true, Rae.”

“That doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t be telling me this. It’s none of my business.” If she were a better person, her reasons for not wanting to know what happened would be because it was none of her business but that’s not the reason and it’s one more thing she can torture herself with later.

“But it does. He’s her friend and she… it’s not right.”

“If it’s what they want…” It’s not how she really feels though. She feels sick. Yet again she loses out to Chloe and it just isn’t fair. Is there nothing that Rae wants that Chloe can’t have?

“That’s the thing, Rae. It’s not. Everyone knows that Finn…” Izzy stops abruptly, as if she’s said too much.

“Everyone knows that Finn what? I know fuck-all about Finn, other than he’d rather I wasn’t around.”

Rae knows that’s bullshit even before she’s finished saying it. It might have been true at one point in the very beginning, but not now. He keeps talking about them being friends and he must mean it if he keeps saying it. But, it was hard enough when she’d decided she’d like more than that, and now she knows that he’s been with Chloe, that he wants Chloe, she can’t stop the negative thoughts. If he and Chloe are going to be together then it might be easier if they weren’t friends. Rae doesn’t think she has that much pretend left in her.

“Don’t be thick, Rae. It really doesn’t suit you.” There’s a tick of annoyance in Izzy’s tone that she quickly reins in. She takes a breath. “Look, he’s sad and his heart hurts and he’s drunk and she took advantage. I’m just looking after him, like he would me.” She pulls Rae back down into her lap and continues to brush her fingers through her hair.

“He’s such a good person Rae. He’s kind and he’s sweet and he cares. I know you two got off on the wrong foot but he’s lovely Rae, if you’ll just give him the chance.”

“The two of you are close, I get that Iz, but it’s not the same thing for him and me. I don’t think it could be.” Rae protests gently.

“I admit he’s said some daft boy things and I’ve wanted to clip him ‘round the earhole a couple of times myself, but I think it’s just because you rattle him. He always talks about you. How funny you are, how clever. He’s always repeating stuff you say, and I’m like “Yeah Finn, I know, I was there.” Izzy laughs softly.

She’s still smiling when she shares this next bit of information, “Archie and I have got this bet going. Every time Finn starts a sentence with “Rae says,” or “Rae thinks,” Archie owes me 10p. I haven’t paid for a drink in the Swan for weeks now!”

Dear, sweet, misguided, got-the-wrong-end-of-the-stick Izzy, looking at life through her rose-tinted granny glasses and seeing nothing but sunshine and rainbows and feelings where there are none. Rae’s about to tell Izzy that she’s lovely but obviously delusional when there’s a tapping at the door. Finn’s head pokes sheepishly around the edge of it.

“Hiya,” he mumbles.

“Look Rae. Look who it is. It’s the lovely Finn. Hello lovely Finn, come sit with us.” Izzy beams, her fingers stilling in Rae’s hair. Rae sits up, reluctant to lose contact with Izzy’s comforting touch.

“Am I interrupting?”

“Never,” Izzy pats the bed next to her. “The more, the merrier,” He hesitates at the door, warily eyeing Rae. “Come on, come here. We’ve saved you a spot.”

“Are you sure? Are you feeling better, Rae?” Rae gives him a shy, short nod and a weak smile. It’s all the encouragement he needs and he crosses the room, to ease into Izzy’s side. They bob like boats on the shoreline, trying to get comfortable. Finn fusses with the neckline of his t shirt, tugging at it self-consciously in an attempt to hide the bruise on his neck. Izzy gently pulls his hand away, squeezes his fingers reassuringly.

“I’m sorry about before Iz, I didn’t…” he whispers, the puff of his breath a tickle in her ear.

She turns her face towards him with a finger to her lips, her eyes soft and forgiving. “Shh, quiet now. We’re having a moment.”

The three of them sit against the wall, a tryptic of teenage angst; interlocking pieces of the same beast. Finn’s head on Izzy’s shoulder, hers resting on top of his. Izzy’s arm slung possessively around Rae, Rae coiled tight into Izzy’s side.

“This is so lovely. Cuddling with two of my favourite people in the whole world.”

“Ha! Everyone’s your favourite.” Finn scoffs quietly.

“I don’t have that many! But the ranking changes with my mood, so watch it you or you’ll drop right out of the top five.”

“Who are you kidding? I’ll always be your number one.” Finn tickles her and Izzy giggles and there’s a sort of contained rolling about, save for the flailing arms, and Rae wriggles out of harm’s way. It continues until Izzy squeals a fervent ‘stop’ and he does. Its clear Izzy has him wrapped around her little finger and he’s more than happy to be there. They collapse into each other, breathless. It’s nice to watch him be light and playful with Izzy. Rae’s never seen that side of him before. The sweetness. She doesn’t hesitate to re-join them when Izzy pulls her back into their little pile without a word.

“So much for my moment,” Izzy groans. “Okay you two, let me up,” unravelling herself from their tangle of limbs, she scoots to the edge of the bed. “I better go check that awful boy hasn’t set fire to anything downstairs.”

“I should probably come with you…” Rae sighs.

“No. Stay. I can handle Chop. Besides, I need to talk to Chloe.” She stands, but before she can get too far, Finn moves forward, catching her hand and pulling her back.

“Fairy…” the word gets stuck in his throat and he hugs her tightly.

”Hey, it’s what we do, yeah?” Izzy’s arms fall easily around his shoulders. They nestle together for a moment, everyone else forgotten. Izzy has to peel him off her before she can leave the room. “Now, play nice.” She commands as she shuts the door behind her and just like that, they’re alone.

“Little Miss Fix-it.” Rae grins, nodding at the closed bedroom door.

“Bossy little thing, you mean.” Finn counters. “I do love her a lot, though.”

“And why wouldn’t you? She’s fucking amazing.”

“She really is.” He affirms softly. “She takes care of me.”

“She said the same about you.”

“Well, we’re friends. It’s what you do.” He looks up from his hands and shrugs, giving her a rueful smile. It seems to Rae that what Finn and Izzy share goes beyond any friendship Rae’s experienced. The twist of longing is sharp and quick.

“She said that too.”

“That’s because she steals all my best lines.” This smile is looser, more relaxed.

“Can I ask you something? Does she ever ask to play with your hair?”

“Why? What did she tell you?” He shifts uncomfortably, his eyes narrowed.

“Nothing. It’s just… she was pretty insistent. I wouldn’t want to cross her.” She looks at him conspiratorially. Smiling at him is getting easier.

“I’ve found life is much simpler if I pick my battles. Though she be but little, she is fierce.” Rae’s jaw drops and he can’t help but chuckle. “A little less shock please, if you don’t mind, Mae. You’re not the only one who’s ever cracked a book, you know.”

“Wow. Such hidden depths. I’m well impressed.” And there it is, a proper Rae-smile. He’d seen them before, but he’s never had one directed at him until now. Sometimes, when she’d let go and forgotten she didn’t like him that much, she’d let that wide lipped grin fall on him too, just for a moment, before she remembered who he was and shut it off. Now he’s got one all of his own.

“Relax brainbox, your crown is safe. I got miles to go before I catch up to you.” They laugh quietly together and the next silence is a little easier too.

She turns to look at him, a thought suddenly forming. “Is that why you call her fairy?”

“It started out as Titania, ’cause of the red hair and because she’s so tiny, but I had to stop when Chop kept shortening it to ‘Tits’.” Rae sputters and her eyes go wide. “I used to get a slap every time he said it. ME, not him. ‘That’s your fault, Finn Nelson.’” He mimics Izzy’s cranky voice. “Wasn’t fair.” The more Rae laughs the more animated Finn gets. “Fucking Chop. He’s got no clue about women.”

“He really hasn’t, has he? Poor Izzy.” They share a nod and a knowing look. Finn’s hand goes to his mouth unconsciously, and worries at his thumb. In the quiet that follows, his thoughts turn back to the night. All he’d really wanted was to forget about what was happening with his Nan and to make things up with Rae, but she’d been her normal prickly self and he’d had to get away. He regrets what happened with Chloe; too eager to feel something other than hurt, he’d reached out for something he didn’t want. There’s a sudden wave of guilt at his selfishness, he’s convinced because of it, he’s lost his grandmother. “Finn, Izzy told me about your Nan. I’m so sorry.” Rae’s voice pulls him from his thoughts.

“Thanks.” he says softly.

“Why didn’t you say something downstairs?”

“I was going to. It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters. I’m so, so sorry Finn.” Instinctively, she reaches across the gap between them, stopping short of touching him. She doesn’t know if he’d want that. She’d given him such a hard time; when she thinks about her behaviour she’s mortified by how self-absorbed she really is. Why would anyone want her as a friend?

“Izzy was here.” He shrugs.

“She said you didn’t want to go home.” Rae shifts around to face him and their knees bump momentarily while she adjusts herself on the bed. Finn’s hand drops to rest on his knee, the skin around his thumbnail, red and bleeding.

“Dad was at the hospital with my Uncle Tony. Paperwork, arrangements… something. I should be with him I know, but I just can’t.” He looks up at her then, pale and lost, searching her face for a sign that he’s safe. The next words pour out of him fast and low “I… I don’t want to, I’m not ready, but I don’t want to be on my own. That’s horrible, isn’t it? I’m a horrible, selfish fuck.”

“Oh Finn, no. You’re not horrible and it’s not selfish.” She can’t help but cover his hand with her own now as she tries to reassure him. “You need to look after yourself so you can look after your dad. He wouldn’t want you to be alone. You’re welcome to stay here if you want.”

“I’d like that, Rae. Thanks.”

++++

She’s not asleep; her head is too all over the place. Her mum has been pretending to be her dad for years, she’s got a house full of strangers at a completely non-sanctioned sexy-party and Danny’d shown up, AWOL from the hospital, with tall tales of unbridled sexual abandon and pissing out her bathroom window. Now she’s lying in bed with the most beautiful boy she’s ever seen. As weird nights go, this will take some beating, and she’s been sectioned for almost killing herself. Accidentally.

He hadn’t wanted Rae to leave when she’d insisted that he get some sleep. Made her promise to stay right where she was, while he went and collected his sleeping bag from downstairs and hers from the airing cupboard and set them up on Rae’s bed. She said she’d sleep on the beanbag but he was adamant she didn’t.

She’d worried that they wouldn’t fit and he’d said nonsense, as he pressed himself further against the wall and waved his hand over the empty space beside him, look, plenty of room and he smiled up at her, and she couldn’t help it, she smiled back. Turned out there was plenty of room.

He’d talked all about his Nan and his dad, but balked at giving away too much information about his mum. Just that she’d left when he was small and he didn’t see her anymore. Rae didn’t push.

She told him about her mum and her illegal immigrant boyfriend being on the run in Tunisia and the crazy topless neighbour lady across the road, but mostly she just let him talk. Then she let him cry and when he’d finished crying, she let him hold her hand. Now he’s finally asleep, curled up on his side, snuffling gently into her hair, his lips just an inch from her skin. She could, if she wanted to, just lean over, just a smidge, and he’d be kissing her, but she doesn’t. If he’s ever going to kiss her, she wants it to be because he wants to.

She’s not asleep, but she pretends to be when Chloe sticks her head around the door and watches them for a long time.

#mmfd fic #madfatty spouts off #the space between #22 #i made this #writing

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blackjacketmuses · 6 years ago

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hc; braig 8

(What energizes and drains them most?)Honestly, it’s a bit of a paradox – getting others to react to him, getting them to protest and spit back and just…getting reactions out of people, that energizes him. He likes being reacted to, he likes being a part of things, and the more people react the more energy they feed him. But at the same time, putting on that act for too long starts to drain him. It’s tiring being That Guy all the time, not being able to really let anyone know what’s going on in his head. It’s the price he’s paying for his secrets and his deal, and he can’t keep that smile up all the time.

(How are they vocally expressive? What kind of voice, accent, tones, inflections, volume, phrases and slang, and manner of speaking do they use?) He has a super weird accent. I know my Braig’s is different from how you hear it in the game, honestly? My Braig’s first language was Aire – basically Irish Gaelic. He spent seven years learning whatever Common tongue the worlds have, but even so, he still has a pretty thick Irish brogue (Mimir from God of War 4) to his voice. He tries to, y’know…tone it down mostly, and it has toned down given his twenty years in the Garden and as a Nobody, but it’s still a big part of how he sounds and his voice, and it gives him a very unique voice. His speech patterns are casual and pretty unique, too – he drawls, he throws slang terms in everywhere, and his voice is so very expressive. He talks with his voice and his hands and the way he pitches his voice, the way it goes up and down in volume, it’s very expressive. It’s incredibly difficult to tell he’s a Nobody by voice alone.

(How do they behave within a group? What role(s) do they take? Does this differ if they know and trust the group, versus finding themselves in a group of strangers? Why?) While Braig’s never been one to be a leader, if he’s familiar with the group he might feel more comfortable taking charge or putting his opinion in forcefully. If he’s familiar, he’ll be the Fool, basically, the one that pokes holes in all the bad ideas and the one with the courage to tell the leader their ideas are shit and offer alternatives. He’s pretty good with advice and surprisingly wise, though he prefers taking a backseat to others, he’ll be happy to play second fiddle. If he’s with strangers, though, he’ll avoid that, preferring to sit back and watch the group dynamics – he wants to know where everyone stands and where he’ll stand, and who to side with, who’s dangerous and who’s the safe bet. He’ll let them do their thing until something comes up he feels like he needs to step in and handle. Though if he gets fed up quick, he’ll basically take over the group and take charge on his own.

(How do they view and feel about relationships, and how might this manifest in how they handle them, if it does?) Relationships are mega important to him. He puts family first, he always has. It’s something he learned from his own parents, and their parents, and so on. Family first. Family ties mean everything. It’s a bit of a double-edged sword, because while it means he treasures the people important to him, it also means that it’s kind of ingrained in him that blood family is on a level above found family. He loves the family he’s chosen, more than anything, because they were there when he needed them and they helped him when he needed help, and they gave him a home, but– in the end he chose his blood family, because of his beliefs, and that’s why it all went wrong. Other than that, he’s deeply loyal to the people he cares about, and the more he cares the more likely he is to give you shit and poke holes in your ego, because that’ just what he does. If he cares he’ll make sure in his own way that you’re alright, while if he doesn’t you can just go walk off a cliff for all he cares.

(What are they likely to do if they have the opportunity, resources, and time to accomplish it? Why?) There’s only one thing he’d be dead-set on doing if he had the all the means and time to do it. Find his son. And once that’s done, only then will he turn on Xehanort and tear him down for what he’s done to himself and his friends.

(Is there anything that counts as a “dealbreaker” for them, positively or negatively? What makes things go smoothly, and what spoils an activity or ruins their day? Why?) Well, he doesn’t like being collateral damage– *shot* Seriously, though, he hates when people leave things out or don’t give him a clear picture of what’s going on. Set the terms out clearly, don’t bullshit him. What exactly do you want and what are you giving him? Be clear and don’t do this whole fine print shit. He hates that. Other than that, people not listening to him kind of pisses him off, especially when he’s obviously the more experienced person of the two. And naivete irritates him, especially childish naivete. Innocence, too much innocence, cluelessness…he hates dealing with children, especially children that act like children, who don’t understand things. It’s not because he doesn’t like children, it’s really the opposite. He doesn’t want to deal with the memories having to be around kids brings up. He never really enjoyed putting up with Roxas and Xion on missions because of it. He’d tease them in the Grey Area, but he hated missions. It’s why he was also iffy around Ienzo, too. Things go smoothest when either he’s so in-tune with you that you don’t need to communicate battle plans much, you can just go, or if he’s comfortable joking around with you, so it’s more of a casual banter than a chore or a job.

#;hc: braig

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years ago

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 193 prt 1

193

When Lance fell asleep, their roles had reversed. Keith calling Shiro to check in, after overhearing how they hadn’t really talked to anyone. The conversation with his brother wasn’t that long due to him not wanting to leave Lance. Knowing Krolia, whatever advice she’d given him was probably shit, though, as Lance had said, his mother was probably the closest person he could turn to advice for this. Coran may have had a pretty interesting past, but as far as Keith knew, he’d never been on the end of being pregnant. Pidge... wasn’t exactly maternal, and Allura... was Allura. She’d make a good mother... in her own way. Maybe this trip would have been better if they’d invited the others? Not so much Rieva and Matt, but Pidge and Hunk.

“Keith?”

Hearing Lance call his name, he forced himself out the bathroom. It was now closer to dusk than to dawn. Lance had needed time to cry out his frustrations

“Hey, beautiful. How are you feeling?”

“Better... thirsty... and sorry”

Sorry because they hadn’t been to see his dad yet... Keith was slightly annoyed by that fact, but not mad. Lance hadn’t asked for his ego to start being a pain in the arse, and with all the stress he’d been putting himself under, he really needed the rest

“Do you want some blood?”

“We didn’t do my injection”

Fuck. He hadn’t thought of that

“Do you want to go the bathroom, and I’ll get it organised?”

“Okay”

It felt like nothing now to draw a bit of blood for Lance’s injections. The fear of the curse had lessened. Lance would have never tried to feed off Matt or Rieva, even in a desperate situation. But whether it be luck, or Lance’s own curse, it seemed to kill the werewolf curse before it could turn their twins. Maybe Lance had a point about some of their more careless activities? They shouldn’t be able to stand being in the same room, they both shared moments with their egos that really hurt, but he hadn’t been thinking of his own safety since turning. Just the safety of everyone they called family.

Coming back from the bathroom, Lance sat beside him on their bed. Resting his against Keith’s shoulder, he sighed softly

“Okay... inject away”

The injection always only took a moment. In, inject, out, then Lance would rub at the healing mark. His boyfriend sighing again, overthinking things

“You needed to let it out”

“I know. I feel like I’ve brought the whole mood down and I hate it. You must be starving”

Yep. He was. His metabolism was something crazy. The amount of food he consumed was frankly scary

“I’m okay. Here, have some blood and we can think about getting something to eat”

“I thought I had this planned. You know? We’d have breakfast, than go see your dad. Clean his grave up. Talk to him... A mental breakdown wasn’t scheduled”

“Are they ever? Did mum help?”

“She’s no Mami when it comes to advice. She said to chuck my fear out the window”

Keith snorted

“Right. Because it’s totally that easy. Was she okay?”

They didn’t know if she was coming or not. Not with her work schedule. Keith kind of hoped she would, yet she’d made indications of it. Like, would he even recognise his father’s grave? And what did he say?

“Yeah. She was her usual self. I called her for advice, but I know she was disappointed it wasn’t you”

“Nah. She loves you. I think she even likes you better than me”

“She’s your mum. She loves you. She’s pretty worried how this is affecting you. I could tell”

“I’m okay... kind of. I’m getting there. Umm... Nothing time with my beautiful boyfriend won’t fix”

Lance groaned at him

“Babe, you don’t have to try so hard. It’s okay. I’m hardly beautiful... I’m like... the very definition of a wreck right now”

“You’ll be okay. Here, wrist or um... neck?”

“Wrist... sorry... it’s just easier in this position”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m not sorry”

He’d noticed something. Lance only liked to feed on his neck when they were making out or in the heat of things. His fingers when Lance was trying to be quite mid do

“I am. I love you so much. So so much. I neglected your safety... and you’re still being... so good to me”

“Idiot. I love you. Your hunger won’t last forever. I should have gotten some blood into while you slept... it’s bad to let your... um... levels drop”

“I’ll be okay. They’re still okay... I think one of them tried to break my rib when I was in the bathroom”

Keith loved hearing the twins were moving. Even when it was uncomfortable for Lance, he felt like he was hearing cute stories he wouldn’t be able to forget. He didn’t think he had the patience to be pregnant... which only made him prouder of strength Lance showed

“They take after you. All silent and deadly”

“Babe, I’m not a fart”

Keith hadn’t thought of that, chuckling as he shook his head

“I know. You smell awful in a good way. Not like my lactose farts”

“Eh. They’re part of you. A couple of wads of tissue up my nose and you’d never tell”

“I’ll remember that for next time. Here, eat something. Don’t be afraid if you need a little more”

That was something else Keith noticed. Lance took care with the amount of blood he took from him, but the volume seemed like it would be a lot for a human. Very rarely he felt light headed, questioning if he’d be conscious if he was still human. He’d never tell Lance. He’d freak out immediately, plus fluids and a good meal had him back in shape in no time. Lance moaned as he bit into Keith’s wrist, reminding him he’d have to make more of an effort. Maybe it’d be for the best if he ran an IV line for Lance tonight, just to get his hunger knocked on the head completely.

Pulling off, Lance lapped at the trails of bloodied spit left on Keith’s arm. The wounds starting to heal instantly

“Better?”

Catching a few small beads pushed out by the healing wound, Lance hummed

“Mmm... I know this isn’t comfortable for you”

It shouldn’t have been hot, but it was. It stroked his pride to provide for their boyfriend the one thing he needed above all else

“I’m fine, babe. As long as you’ve had enough”

“Yeah... I’m good. I’m still sorry. I think I’ve been taking more and more of late”

“Nah, it’s fine. But I was thinking we should probably set you up with an IV later, seeing how little you ate today. You need to keep your fluids up”

“But keeping my fluids out means I have to pee”

Whining at him, Lance was too cute

“I love you and your walnut sized bladder anyway”

“I think it’s more like a grape at this stage. I’m sorry my ego chuckled a wobbly... and that we spent most of today in bed”

“There’s nothing more that I love, than spending the day in bed with you”

“Pervert. I’m serious though. I don’t want to be scared like that. I want to see where you grew up. I want to know everything about you. All of it”

“You might not like all of it”

“I don’t know. I think we both know that I’m like crazy stupid in love with you and all those little things that drive me crazy only make me love you more”

Keith groaned softly. He’d become weak to Lance. Last real story he had left to share with his boyfriend was the night Shiro saved his arse. Lance knew most of it. Keith couldn’t remember what he’d told him, nor was he sure why he’d never told him all of it. Being on the streets had taken a toll, and the thought of a warm bed and decent shower left him going with people he already knew were no good for him. They’d offered him a good time when he’d been so completely done with fighting to be alive

“Alright. How about we go get dinner and figure things out from there”

“Mmmm... sounds good to me. Let me change, then we’ll go”

“I probably need to freshen up too”

“I hate to say it but we both kind of stink”

From sweat. Under the blankets left them both sweating in their sleeps. Lance smelt deader than ever, with Keith not far off. Personally he didn’t mind stinking of Lance, but Lance felt like he needed to do more to protect Keith with things like being careful with his scent

“Want to take first shower while I look for somewhere good to eat?”

“Sounds like a plan... I... don’t know if I’ll freak out again”

“It’s okay. If you do, we can totally go. I know we’re here to see my dad, but your safety and comfort comes first. I don’t want you to think you have to hide things from me”

“I know. I won’t take too long”

“Don’t go rushing. The last thing we need is for you to slip. That sounded harsher than what I meant”

Lance shook his head at him

“It’s okay, we both know I’m a klutz. I’ll be careful. We’ve come this far. I’m not about to risk them”

“I’m worried about you, too. I don’t want you being hurt”

“I’ll be fine... Let me freshen up, then you can take me out for dinner”

Lance kissed Keith’s wrist where he’d fed. Keith couldn’t believe the passage of time since meeting Lance had moved so fast. It must have been a year now, or very close to a year. This time last year, he’d have thought himself turned and cursed with a single bite. The Blades really did teach some total bullshit when he stopped to consider all of things he hadn’t thought of before. He’d been such a dumb arse. Luckily he had Lance to set him straight... or not so straight... though he wasn’t sure what he was as it was Lance he loved and not only his physical body. Realising how easily he could fall into an internal debate over all of that, he gave a shake of his head. Lance said he’d let him take him to dinner, so that’s what he was going to do.

Holding Keith’s hand, the freshness of the night felt nice against Lance’s skin. Keith either hadn’t bothered looking up somewhere else to eat, or he’d been trying to please Lance, resulting in dinner at the same restaurant they’d had breakfast at. This time Lance figured out what was wrong with the place. As they’d finished dinner, the waitress had come to collect to their plates, on her arm balanced by the nozzle was a bottle of orange scented surface spray. Being a public restaurant, smells of all sorts bombarded his senses from the moment they walked. With so many scents, he hadn’t consciously noticed the orange surface spray.

The fact that Sendak still held such a hold over him left Lance unable to enjoy his meal. The atmosphere of the restaurant was good, Pidge would have loved the idea of sneakily signing them up for the weekend Karaoke competition, then abusing everyone heckling her over bad singing... He missed those days. He missed not being pregnant and not fearing his scent. Heck, he missed ghost hunting. He missed watching Pidge get super enthused as Hunk prayed for it all to be over. The restaurant was the kind of place he could see himself having a few quite drinks had the place been in Garrison. The kind of place that Sal’s had been to them before he’d had to hideaway his changing body. The Lord knew he was looking forward the day they could all go out again. He was going to order the biggest, greasiest, slimiest, cheesiest pizza in existence. Maybe even have Sal get some cigarette ash in there for that true diner flavour...

“Want to take a walk?”

No. Maybe... He wanted to go home to bed... but he’d spent the day in the hotel room. Staring past Keith, the stars twinkled over the town as if trying to say that nothing bad could ever happen here, which was a bold faced lie if ever there was one. Keith drew strength from the moon, and both of them had eye sight sharp enough to walk around in the dark safely enough... plus... it’d give them time to get the layout of the town down... His boyfriend seemed to be oblivious to internal wavering, Lance wondering if this was his way of easing into things he either wanted to tell, or easing into seeing his father... or even a chance to cover his arse when Shiro asked how much of the town they’d gone out and seen

“Sure. There’s a park a few blocks down. I saw it on the town map”

“You saw a town map?”

“Did you really not look this place up at all? They have a similar lay out to Garrison, which makes sense in a way... they were both trade posts at some time, though I’ve got not idea what they could have pulled out of all the sand”

“I didn’t even know that much. It’s like... all I remember is the shack... all of it feels like being on another planet”

Lance slid his hand into Keith’s

“It’s a good thing I’m here to keep you grounded. Don’t even think about packing your bags for another planet. You’re not leaving me behind”

“I’m sure that if I ever got spirited away into space, you’d be right there with me”

“Yep. Probably screaming my head off the whole time too”

“I think I would be too. Let’s go, I’ll follow your lead”

“Don’t you always?”

Keith kissed his cheek. Lance blushing lightly as his boyfriend replied “yep”, followed by two more kisses on his cheek. Lance would follow Keith to the ends of the Earth, with Keith just as happy to follow him instead. Unless one of them made the decision, they’d be following each other around in circles for the rest of their lives... That didn’t actually sound too bad...

Walking down to the park, the town had a nice vibe to it. Lance felt bad for whoever was in charge of cleaning the park’s rubbish bin after his dinner decided to make a reappearance before they’d reached the toilets towards the middle of the park. Cleaning up, and using the facilities, the pair of them settled themselves down on the swings. It’d been months since he’d been on a swing set, in Cuba, yet it had to be longer for Keith. Dragging his feet in the sand to make a heart, he supposed they looked like a couple of kids up to no good. He’d seen enough memes that he knew adults missed swing sets, and he knew he definitely counted in their ranks.

Pushing off lightly, the chain creaked under his weight. A memory of Veronica coming to mind from back when having a baby brother that was a vampire was something cool. He’d wanted to go higher and higher, the pegs of the swing set shaking, so Luis and Marco held it down as he swung as high as he could get. He’d been sure if he’d gotten a little higher he could have looped the chain around the top, but Papi had lost it at the four of them

“You seem happy”

“Mmm. I like swings”

Letting the swing slow naturally, Lance grinned at his boyfriend mischievously. They had the whole playground to themselves

“What about you? What’s your favourite piece of playground equipment?”

Keith hummed. He’d been making a mound between his shoes, trying to keep the sand from slipping back down

“I hate the monkey bars”

“Oh? What’d they ever do to you?”

“A shit kid at one of the families threw a rock at me because I could pull myself up to sit on top of them. It hit me in the head and I fell off backwards”

“Wow. That kid sounds like a wanker”

Keith nodded, expression semi serious

“They were. I got in trouble for falling off”

“That’s kind of what kids do though. They play and climb... it’s what kids are supposed to do”

Keith sighed, before shaking his head

“It doesn’t matter now. I can’t even remember their face, let alone why they through the rock”

“They were probably jealous because you’re so much cooler than them. I bet you were a totally rad kid. I wish I’d known you then”

Lance didn’t think about what he’d said. He felt like kicking himself as Keith mumbled

“Right. The fucked up orphan no body wanted was a “rad kid””

“Hey. No. No. That is not on you. Not at all. Adults are supposed to be there and be the strong ones. Not kids. I sincerely wish I could lord over every single person who hurt you, how fucking amazing you are”

Keith gave a scoff of disbelief. Lance saddened that his boyfriend’s anxiety had gotten to him this badly. Climbing off his swing, the vampire wrinkled his nose at the sand pouring into his shoes as he moved to stand behind Keith

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to push you?”

Wasn’t that obvious? He’d waddled his pregnant arse all the way behind Keith. The only logical conclusion was he was going to push him on the swing

“You don’t have to”

“Maybe I want to? Maybe I want to play in the park because there’s no one else around. No bad scents. No blood. No spirits. No yucky feelings other than the sand under my socks...”

“It is a nice park”

“Right? Now, hold on”

Pushing Keith on the swing, Keith gradually loosened up, even starting to laugh as Lance backed off and watched

“You can do it, babe!”

“I’m totally going to jump off, you know that, right?”

“It’s like an unwritten law of swinging, seeing how far you can jump”

“I think I have an advantage...”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m totally challenging you to a swing off once these two are born”

“That’s not fair, you’ve got wings”

Lance huffed. They had a mind of their own, much like the rest of his body

“Which are mostly useless. I can’t even fly around as a bat”

“That’s fine. Ready?”

“Go for it!”

Keith jumped a little too soon, half faceplanting in the sand. With the way he landed, Lance rushed to his side to find his boyfriend laughing

“Are you okay?”

“I fucked that up”

Kicking Keith lightly in the side with the toe of his shoe, his boyfriend rolled over, smiling like an idiot. Lance’s heart had stopped with the way Keith landed, now the idiot was smiling so happy he felt all warm inside

“You had me worried!”

“I guess I’m not that great at sticking the landing”

“You weren’t that great at jumping. You went before the swing was at the right height!”

“You make it sound like you’re training me for the Olympics”

Channeling the best sports commentator voice he could, Lance’s voice wobbled slightly as he tried not to laugh at how funny he was

“You don’t get at a ten-point-zero for your landing. Zero style. Very simplistic. Could this spell the end for Keith Kogane’s budding career before he even goes professional?”

Keith laughed. A proper unguarded laugh. Lance feeling the luckiest man in the world to hear it

“I’m being serious!”

“Uh huh. Sure you are. You know, the stars are really pretty. I feel like I can see them way better than before”

“That’s because all your senses increased. Werewolves and vampires are kind of night creatures”

“I still don’t know how to turn into a wolf. I don’t know if it counts”

“It totally does... Now, are you getting up? Or should I pick you up in the morning?”

Keith patted the sand next to him

“You could come down here”

“Or you could come up here... I’m too pregnant to deal with sand”

“Fair point. We have the whole park to ourselves... I don’t think I’ve ever really... just... you know...”

That Keith hadn’t played on a playground saddened Lance. Even as an adult, playgrounds were still fun. With no one around to watch them, there was no point being responsible adults

“You know, there’s a slide over there... and a flying fox...”

“Babe...”

Keith tried to dismiss the idea, Lance using “boyfriend” which proved very effective. Damn Pidge. She’d gone and put that back into his head at her birthday party

“Come on, it’ll be fun. I mean, I probably can’t use the spinner, not unless you want to scramble the twins, but the slide never gets old”

“Fine, but if we get in trouble, you’re taking the blame”

Lance shrugged. They weren’t violating any laws that he knew of. They weren’t intoxicated. Nor were they committing property damage or trespassing

“The lawyer in me tells me it’s going to be okay”

“I’ll remember that when I get my one phone-call”

“You better. Though it would be a conflict of interest to represent you, so let’s not get in trouble?”

The did indeed get into trouble. Keith got wedged in the kids slide, and Lance was too tall for the flying fox, so that was disappointing. They were still messing around when the lights of a cruiser flashed red and blue, the two of them called over by a police officer who looked unable to catch them, even if they had been human. Swallowing down his fear, Lance took Keith by the hand, walking him over to the officer when Keith kept telling him they should run. Getting closer, the man clearly didn’t expect two fully grown adults to be playing in the park so late at night.

“Officer, how are you tonight?”

Putting on an air of responsibility, Lance felt he’d be the more convincing adult of the pair of them

“I had a call about teenagers mucking around in the park. Want to tell me about it?”

Keith snorted with laughter, Lance stepping on his foot to shut him up

“That was us, sir. I’m sorry if we created a disturbance. We’re on holiday, you know, before the twins come, and wanted to have a little fun. I had no idea we we’re causing a disturbance”

Keith tried to muffle his laughter, Lance mentally rolling his eyes at his boyfriend who was clearly upsetting the police officer. Huffily, the man asked

“So I’m not going to find any of that junky paraphernalia you young people are into these days?”

“No, sir. I know we might look young, but I’m 46 and my boyfriend here is 28. No drugs, or alcohol, sir”

The man looked them up and down, Lance waited for something along the lines of “I wouldn’t lie to a police officer, if I was you”. Instead the man sighed

“Look. You can’t be playing in the park at midnight. You’re obviously not locals. You staying at the hotel?”

“Yes, sir. My boyfriend is a photographer, we’re travelling to work on his portfolio. Sorry. We wanted to have a little fun with no one around”

“I’ll have you save that sort of fun for a more appropriate environment. Get in the back, I’ll give you both a ride back”

Lance immediately shook his head

“We’re both able to walk back...”

“That wasn’t an invitation. We get a lot of blow ins for this damn Easter festival the town insists on having. The last thing I need is the pair of you thinking your entitled to cause trouble. Get in”

Lance felt like a scolded school child as he did as he was told, Keith sliding in beside him, though his boyfriend still thought they should run. Clipping their belts in obediently, Lance bit his bottom lip. Maybe they’d gotten carried away? He didn’t think they were being too loud. All they’d been doing was acting like idiots. They hadn’t damaged any property... plus Keith had gotten on the spinner, which had been hilarious given how much strength he could put into a spin. His boyfriend had gotten off with shaky legs, tripped, fell in the grass and burst out laughing. Lance knew he should stay quiet, but this was a golden chance

“Excuse me, have you been an officer here very long?”

The man met his eyes before pulling away from the park curb

“Long enough”

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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