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rons-hermiones · 3 years ago

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Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

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

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

Chapter Forty

Hermione’s eyes widened at the feeling of the hand clamped over her face.

At first, she’s absolutely terrified that they’ve come for her and someone’s muffling the screams she no longer knows if she’s capable of.

For a second she thinks it could be Ron as he’s nearby and he’s silencing her to keep from giving them away to some evil outside the Burrow.

However as her eyes adjust to the darkness, under the moon shining through Ron’s attic window, she makes out a pair of two familiar eyes.

Ones she only saw in Malfoy Manor.

Soft, misty eyes. A pair she doubted she’d ever see again.

Slowly, she pulls her hand off Hermione’s mouth and presses a finger to her lips, indicating her to keep quiet.

With a swish of an unfamiliar wand Hermione recognizes the movements of a silencing charm.

Unknown to everyone but one Molly Weasley, is that a simple muffalito has no effect within the walls of Ron’s room. The matron was worried her son may succumb to the brunette's request of casting a silencing charm for the sake of everyone else after her screaming tonight. Even though it bothered no one in the house, Molly knew the girl well enough to know she thought of herself a burden. Not to mention, Mrs. Weasley is pretty sure Ron would do whatever she asked of him.

“Hello dear.” She whispered as a precaution.

“Ci-Cissy?” Hermione choked out, tears pooling in her eyes.

And before she could register the pain of such an action, she’s flinging her arms around the older woman’s slender frame and squeezes her tightly.

In turn, Narcissa finds herself crying quietly into the witch’s shoulder.

Once gathering her bearings a bit she breaks the silence. “I believe you have something that belongs to me.” Narcissa says with a chuckle.

Under her, she feels Hermione shake in what she thinks would be a laugh, had she not been in such a state.

“Well I have something that belongs to you as well, you see-”

“Let go of her now!”

Instantly, the pair's eyes snapped to the occupant of the voice.

Ron Weasley was towering over them, standing tall at a scary six foot four. His wand is drawn as deep raspy breaths escape him. Chest rising and falling at an intense rate. Hermione thinks she can see his knuckles whitening from the tight hold.

At his words, Narcissa pulled away from Hermione and held her hands in surrender as the young girl shook her head vigorously.

“Move away. Move.” He spat.

“Look, I’m not here to-“

“I don’t care! Move!” He screamed.

“R-Ron.” She cried.

When his blue eyes found her, he swore she was looking at him almost longingly. He couldn’t help but scrunch his brow in confusion.

“Please.” She mouthed.

“I won’t let her touch you love. I won’t.” He promised with such ferocity no one would dare challenge it.

“N-no!” She tried to exclaim.

This made his hold on his wand falter a bit as he grew puzzled.

It was Narcissa’s name she was groaning in her sleep. It was this woman, a Malfoy, who was causing her anguish. Probably the same haunting face that woke her in a fit of screams.

“I don’t understand.” He said to Hermione, feeling stupid for it after the fact, knowing there was a threat standing in between him and her. And now said threat would see him as some bumbling idiot.

Merlin he can’t fail again, he can’t.

“I’m not here to hurt any of you. Least of all Hermione, never Hermione.” Narcissa spoke up, standing from the bed, hands still raised.

“Shut up! Don’t say that, you hurt her! You’re a monster!” He doesn’t realize, but hot, wet tears are leaking out of his blue eyes.

“Hurt her? You think I’d hurt her? I’m the one who got her out of there, how do you think my wand-”

He let out a bitter laugh, “If you’re so helpful then why did it take four bloody months, eh?” He taunted.

Narcissa was growing angry, more at herself then this boy, because in a lot of ways, he was right. It had taken her too long to get Hermione out. So much had happened to her in those four months and her pain could be cut in half had she acted faster.

She stepped closer to speak, but in response, Ron lifted his wand to her nose.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Hermione, disarm him so we can have a civil conversation.” Cissy says calmly, though her voice shakes.

“No w-wand.” She squeaks.

“No wand?” Narcissa says, eyeing Ron, who now looks nervous. “Is it because-”

A sudden knock on the door brings everyone in the attic to a standstill.

“Ronnie?” Molly Weasley’s voice broke from behind the wood door.

Narcissa hurriedly tip-toed to the left of the door, looking to Ron’s conflicted eyes and bringing a finger to her lips. Next, his gaze found Hermione who seemed to be mouthing ‘please’ over and over, her eyes glossy under the moonlight.

“Ronald open up or I’m coming in.” She said from the other side.

Sparing one last glance at Hermione, he tucked his wand into his waistband and with a deep breath flung open the door and stepped into the hallway. Carefully he shut it behind him.

“Is everything okay dear? I thought I heard voices.”

He gulped, “Y-yeah.” He swallowed hoping to wet his dry throat, “Hermione she-uh, she had another nightmare.”

“Oh no.” Molly began to push past him until he jumped in front of the door knob.

“No!” He said a bit too harshly, “I just mean, I think she’s overwhelmed, you know? I think I can handle this Mum.” He said gently.

And surprisingly, his mother doesn’t disagree like he expected her to. Instead, a proud smile struck her lips as her eyes softened considerably.

“I’m so proud of you Ronnie.” She whispers, hands reaching out to cradle his face. “You’ve taken tremendous care of Hermione, you’re just so grown up I suppose. The way you are with her- I’m just beyond proud of you dear.” Molly says misty eyed.

“Thanks Mum.” He says with red cheeks.

Behind the door, Narcissa Malfoy is smiling.

Mrs. Weasley squeezes him tightly before pulling away and wiping at her eyes. “I’m downstairs if you need anything, okay? I love you Ronnie, Hermione too.” With that, she kisses his cheek and walks down the steps.

He waits until he hears the faint sound of his parents door clicking close before pulling out his wand again and entering his bedroom.

There he finds Narcissa standing in the middle of his orange room, her eyes looking like they're full of love with tears threatening to spill over. She looks like anything but a Malfoy, such a stark contrast from Bellatrix. Looking at her here he’s more reminded of Andromeda, a soft spoken soul full of love. All things he would never associate with the mother of the greatest git at Hogwarts and wife to a Death Eater.

“Now I understand what Hermione was trying to tell me.” She whispered with a ghost of a smile on her lips.

Momentarily his grip falters as he begins lowering his wand, but then he remembers. This is probably a part of her plan. Gain his trust then kick his legs out from under him while he’s weak and more importantly, go at Hermione while she’s weak.

Still, he does want to know what she means…

“Nevermind that! Tell me how you got here.” He demands.

...

“The Burrow?” Andromeda questioned, “that’s… no! I can’t Molly and Arthur- no Cissy, I’m sorry.” She began pacing as she shook her head frantically.

“Please Andi, I need to see Hermione.” She begged.

“Hermione? Hermione Granger?” She questioned, even more confused than she was before.

“That’s right.” Narcissa nods confidently.

“But why?”

The younger of the two sighs. She nervously begins to wring her hands together as she paces the expanse of the room.

Then something dawned on Andromeda, “Hold on, does Hermione Granger have your wand?”

The look on Cissy’s face says it all.

“Narcissa what in the bloody hell is Hermione Granger doing with your wand? The girl is off at Hogwarts and the wards there- they’re impossible to get through!” She rants.

“Is it safe for me to assume you haven’t been in touch with Nymphadora?”

“Dora? What’s she got to do with all of this?” Andromeda questioned, but the look on her sister's face told her that the answer was crucial to the story, so she carried on. “Her and Remus were supposed to spend New Year’s with Ted and I but she got sent off on an assignment. She said it was for the Auror’s and not The O-” She caught herself.

Narcissa huffed with a roll of her eyes, “I know about The Order Andi, I’m not daft! Just carry on.”

The brunette rolled her eyes in return. It was almost nice to bicker. It felt normal. It felt like it did so long ago.

“Right so she said she had a case down in Cornwall. Some investigation, we owled of course, but she didn’t come back until February. Ted and I traveled to Amsterdam for our anniversary which is in late February, we were there for a few weeks. Dora is meant to come to dinner here within the week.”

“Alright.” Cissy nodded, “Alright that makes sense.”

“Sense with what Cissy?” Andromeda asked impatiently.

“Christmas night Hermione Granger was kidnapped from the Weasley’s home.”

The other woman grew pale, horror striking her features.

“It was Bella. Bella took her back to my estate in Wiltshire.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, tone filled with nothing but shame.

“Kidnapped? She’s just a child, Narcissa! Merlin- how long?” Andi asked, pinching the end of her nose.

“Three, four months.” Andromeda had to strain her ears to even hear the response.

“Months? This went on for months and you knew!”

“I know okay? I tried- I swear, I tried to get her out.” Cissy promised with tears brimming her eyes.

The brunette took a deep breath, calming considerably. “At least tell me she’s not there anymore. Tell me the girl is okay.”

Narcissa wiped almost violently at her eyes and took a big sniff, “That’s why I’m here, I had nowhere else to go. They’re bound to figure it out eventually. Lucius is too caught up in himself to realize I was lying but Bella- if she doesn’t know yet, she will soon.”

“Know what?” Her brown eyes were swimming for answers.

“That I was the one who helped Hermione escape. That’s why she has my wand.”

Andromeda gasped. When Narcissa turned up at her door she was so overcome with a sense of familiarity and love she didn’t even spare a second to think what kind of trouble she may be in. Or the possibility that she was done with that life. With her awful husband and his awful beliefs.

Could it be?

“But why?” It’s all Andromeda could come up with.

As she peered at her sister's weathered features, she saw tears running out of her blue eyes.

“Because it was so wrong Andi.” Narcissa practically blubbered, succumbing to sobs.

And like they were little girls again, Andromeda knew all Cissy needed right now was a hug from her big sister.

She engulfed her slender frame and slowly began stroking her brunette-blonde hair. Telling her everything was alright and ensuring she did the right thing.

After a few moments, Narcissa gathered her bearings.

“You were right.” She choked, “I’ve known for years but part of me always held out some hope, Bella… she's gone.” Her voice cracked over the nickname.

Andromeda just frowned, she accepted the fact during the first war, but she knew that part of Narcissa always thought that maybe somehow, someway, they could all become the family they once were. That they could all be sisters again.

“She ordered them to do terrible- unspeakable things to a young girl.” Suddenly her features stiffened into that of anger, “And when she wasn’t laughing at those inhumane acts, she was firing curse after curse at Hermione. The cruciatus, she- she doesn’t even speak anymore.”

Tears began leaking again out of both womens eyes.

“I took care of her every night. I snuck her potions. I read to her. I fed her. I held her. I made sure her brain wouldn’t turn to mush. I even told Bella to stop.” She inhaled, “But none of it mattered. I took too long. They killed her parents! I should’ve got her out sooner, I’m just as bad as the rest of them, I’m-” Her words caught in her throat as she grew hysterical.

Andromeda gripped her shoulders, “Stop.” She said a little forcefully, but Narcissa just continued to cry. “Cissy look at me.” She demanded.

Thankfully, her sister stopped shaking momentarily to fulfill the request.

“You never have and will never be a monster, okay? You did what was right in the end and that’s all that matters. Hermione isn’t there anymore.”

Narcissa closed her eyes and began trembling under Andromeda’s hold.

“Hey.” She called, causing her to open her eyes again, “you’re my sister. You always have been and you always will be. If I thought you were anything like Bella I wouldn’t have let you in. I know your heart is good.”

Slowly, Cissy nodded, calming a bit at the sentiment.

“I love you.” Andi said.

“I love you too.” Narcissa responded, “You’re my family and it's just-” she swallowed, “I’m so happy to be here with you but Hermione she- she’ll never have that again.” Cissy hoped the statement conveyed what she met as if she said more, she would’ve probably broken down again.

“That’s why it’s so important I get you into The Burrow, huh?” Andromeda smiled.

Cissy smiled back.

Even after all this time, they still knew each other so well.

...

“Tell me.” Ron Weasley demanded of her.

Cissy shook her head. She was briefly lost in a daze remembering all the details of the past few days.

“My sister, Andromeda, has access to the wards. She comes to have tea with your Mother a few times a week.” She like it was simple.

Ron scrunched his brow, not connecting the dots.

“We apparated outside of the wards so no one would hear. Andi and I performed some old blood spell we found in one of our mothers old books. Did it when we were younger, it connects you for a finite amount of time only works if you’re blood related. She stepped through the wards and I held onto her, we had no issues. I reckon she’s still crouching behind that old tree in your orchard.” She explained.

“So your sister, she doesn’t well-uh-”

“Hate me?” Narcissa asked knowingly, “No.” She answered. “It’s always been different for us than it was with Bella.”

The mention of the name involuntarily made Hermione shutter as a whimper escaped her.

At the sound Ron turned to envelope her in a hug, just to find Narcissa already doing it. He was about to pull out his wand to do something, but to his surprise, Hermione was welcoming to the embrace, burrowing into her robes.

He notices Narcissa holding her closer and he opens his mouth to tell the woman to take it easy, but Hermione winces instead, making her jump away.

The young witch moves her hand to her ribs hoping to ease some pain.

“What did you do? Ron accuses, sitting down next to Hermione, gently rubbing her back. At the action the brunette tries to offer a small smile, but the keyword here is tries.

He wonders if he’ll ever see a proper smile from her again.

“I have a book for Hermione in my robes. The corner must’ve dug into her ribs. If they’re still sore you should consider casting a-”

“No!” Ron yelps, making her jump, “sorry love” He whispers after the fact.

“So I was right then?”

The ginger eyes the woman, unsure what she means.

“She can’t use magic.”

Before he can even react Hermione musters all of her strength to shrug his arm off of her.

“L-liar.” She said saldy.

Technically he didn’t lie because it never exactly came up, but he knew that wasn’t an adequate response or excuse. Ron from five months ago might’ve said that, but he’s done a lot of growing up in that time.

And the look of pain on her face breaks his heart, especially knowing he caused it. Especially after he swore to himself and to her all those nights in St. Mungo’s that he’d never hurt her again.

“I don't know how to tell you Mione. Please believe me, please. I just- I didn’t want to hurt you anymore then I have already, okay? It fucking kills me seeing you like this darling. Please, I’m so sorry. Don’t let me lose you again.” He pleaded, forgetting Narcissa was even in the room.

A tear fell down her cheek, he swiped it gently with his thumb and relaxed the slightest when she allowed him to do so.

“It’s not forever, I promise. You’re still a brilliant witch, it doesn’t make you any less magical, okay?”

He watched as her eyes slowly roved to her bandaged arm, thinking about the vile term underneath.

Mudblood.

Anger momentarily bubbled within him thinking of the scar, but he pushed it down. He tilted her chin to look into his eyes, “Don’t think about that, please. You’re the Brightest Witch of Our Age. Nothing will ever change that, believe me alright? It’s just for a little while, I’m so sorry I lied Mione. I just- I hate to see you upset. I was being selfish and-”

Hermione cut him off by placing a gentle hand over his mouth.

It was so much to take in, but Ron has been so lovely. Her moment of hurt was overshined by all the tender moments they’ve shared lately. And right now her brain is working in overdrive.

Hatred for Bellatrix and all she’s taken from her. The thought of never performing a spell again. Would they kick her out of Hogwarts?

Then she remembers Narcissa is here, Ron too, and right now she needs to focus on this before she explodes. Maybe Cissy has answers. She prays she does.

When she moves her hand a ghost of a smile plays on Ron’s lips, thankful for the sign of forgiveness.

“L-later.” she mumbled.

He nodded in understanding, hand reaching for hers.

Cissy watches the scene feeling her heartbreak for Hermione but also swell at the evident love between them. Then she remembers what event sparked the conversation in the first place.

“I have something for you. Something you left behind.”

Ron opens his mouth to protest, she needs no reminders of Malfoy Manor. Ever.

“Trust me.” Cissy whispers.

From her black robes she pulls out a large book.

The words Hogwarts, A History are printed on the binding.

It looks a lot like the copy Bill and Charlie gave him. There’s even a tea stain on the- shite.

With watery eyes, Narcissa places it in front of the pair. “I don’t believe you ever got to properly read this, huh dear?” She asked with a watery smile.

Ron glances to gauge Hermione’s reaction. Her bottom lip is quivering and he sees a lone tear escape her brown sparkling eyes.

But for the first time in a long time, he knows those tears weren’t ones of pain.

As her shaking hand skims the leatherbound book she suddenly feels different.

She’s not thinking of Bellatrix or Greyback or her parents. She’s thinking about how she’s here with Ron and Cissy and she feels an overwhelming sense of love coming from them. From this book, what it means, who gave it to her and who brought it back to her.

When she opens to the text, she spots the familiar scrawl in the front, running her fingers over the worn out ink and splotches from her salty tears.

Hermione,

I’m so sorry for everything that's happened. I’ve hurt you and for that I’ll never truly forgive myself. You know I’ve never been good with words, but I once told you I wouldn’t read this book for anything, but I did. For you. I hope you enjoy my rendition of Hogwarts, A History and I hope this can help show you how much you mean to me, how much I miss you, if only a little. I hope one day you can forgive me. Until then I’ll be waiting. Always.

Happy Christmas

Yours, Ron.

She spent the worst nights of her life bent over this book. It gave her hope to someday get back to Ron. To make things right.

But reading it this time was different.

Instead of longing to see Ron again she turns and he’s there.

His arms tighten around her and she swears she hears him sniffle and feels him press a light kiss to her hair.

And she knows that this is what healing feels like.

“Thank you.” Her voice is cracked, but it's the strongest she’s sounded in months.

Ron’s heart swells in his chest. He peers over at Narcissa Malfoy, who like him, is crying, and the two exchange soft smiles.

In that moment Ron decides: maybe Narcissa Malfoy isn’t so bad after all.

...

Hermione falls asleep on Ron’s chest, the book slanted in her lap. She’s calmer than she’s been in a while. No furrowed brows or pained groans. He keeps a gentle hand running through her hair, telling himself it’s keeping her sound asleep and it’s not just because her hair is so damn soft.

“I wish I could have gotten her to sleep like that in the Manor. I wish I would’ve done more.” Narcissa’s voice breaks from where she sits on Harry’s camp bed.

Ron just stares at her for a few moments before coming to a decision. One he’s reluctant about, but knows it's best for Hermione.

“You can stay here.”

The woman looks in shock.

“Hermione would be upset if you left without a proper goodbye and I reckon there’s a lot you need to tell me, but not now. The sun will be up within the hour and I’m knackered.” He tells her, eyes averted to his Chudley Cannons poster.

“I’m sure your parents wouldn’t be pleased with someone so closely involved with the Dark Lord under their roof.” She says quietly.

“You’re done with that though?” He snaps, hand moving for his wand.

“I am.” She assures with a nod, “I have been for a while.”

Ron relaxes and lets out a breath. “Alright then. I’ll explain it to Mum and Dad eventually, but now isn’t right.”

Cissy nods again, “I’ll send a patronus to Andromeda, she’s still waiting in the orchard.” She explains taking out her wand, her true wand.

A wispy swan glides elegantly from the tip of her wand and disappears as blueish white hues disappear out his window.

“I’m going to bed.” Is all he says before blowing the candle on his bedside out and throwing the covers over both him and Hermione.

He stays awake for a while though, worried Narcissa may try something. But eventually her breathing evens out and he’s too exhausted to stand guard any longer, so he succumbs to sleep knowing he’ll need his rest for all the answers to come tomorrow.

Ones that are sure to break his heart.

...

Green flames explode in the fireplace as a figure stumbles out.

They brush the ash off and step into the Burrow’s living room.

“Oh you’re early!” Molly exclaims as she comes near the fireplace, still in her slippers. “Hermione had a nasty nightmare so she’s up in the attic with Ron. It was a long night, so I reckon they’re still asleep. Go wake Ronnie at least, let Hermione rest.” She told them.

With a nod, the figure took the familiar trek to Ron’s bedroom, not even bothering to knock before entering.

Meant by the sight of Ron and Hermione curled around each other and an overwhelming sense of heartbreak and warmth flooded them. Heartbreak of knowing why they ended up that way, because of the nightmares, but warmth at seeing the look of content across their serene faces as they laid in one another's arms.

But then he saw something.

A third figure laid atop of the sheets of the camp bed tucked against the wall.

Pulling out their wand they steadily positioned it, ready to curse whoever the mysterious occupant may be.

But before they make it across the room, the figure bolts upright, seeming to have heard the heavy footsteps.

And for the first time, Narcissa Malfoy is face to face with the infamous Harry Potter.

#Ron and Hermione #Ron Weasley #rons-hermiones come find me #ron x hermione #Hermione Granger #romione fanfic #romione #hp fanfic #hp #sixth year

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superfan0714 · 4 years ago

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SuperJail! Warden x Faythie - First Meeting (Pt 2)

Faythie's body was frozen with shock. Her heart pounded as she and her apprehender soared through the sky, climbing higher and higher towards the clouds. She then started to realize she was being pretty much dragged by her wrist by a mechanical claw at the end of a long robot arm. She gazed up, attempting to get a better look at her apprehender, but she couldn't really, in her panic and shock. She also swore she could hear music playing, something that goes a little like this,

OOOOH, LIFE ON THE OUTSIDE AIN'T WHAT IT USED TO BE (DOO DOO DOO DOOOO)

THE WORLD'S GONE CRAZY AND IT AIN'T SAFE ON THE STREETS

OH, IT'S A DRAG I KNOW, THERE'S ONLY ONE PLACE TO GO

BABY, BACK WHERE I COME FROM, I'M COMING HOME (DOO DOO DOO DOOOOOOOOOO)

The entire while, they were swallowed by the clouds, and then another cloud manifested in the shape of a purple man's head, wearing a purple top hat and yellow glasses. Just then, the man-cloud's mouth opened, and THEY FLEW RIGHT THROUGH IT.

A blinding white light momentarily flashed, then went away. At that time, Faythie could see where she was. There was an ocean, with an island, on that island was a volcano, on top of the volcano was another volcano, on top of the other volcano was a tower, which on top of that had a facility that looked like a correctional facility.

They flew closer and closer, and just as they were about to seemingly crash right into that tower, the apprehender dropped her over the second volcano! Time seemed to slow down for Faythie, shutting her eyes. She was certain she was going to die. Just then, a cuckoo clock bird popped out of nowhere (actually, from that tower) and swallowed her whole!

She slid down literal slides, just like the tubular slides at playgrounds, silent-screaming all the way. Then, she landed in a white hallway. Just completely pitch-white.

A little ways down, there was a door in the side of the hallway. She decided to go open it, because she still thought she was going to die anyway, so screw it, she figured.

She opened it, and there was a room that looked like an office. She stepped inside, and the room was so brightly and psychedelic-ly decorated, her eyes felt like they were going to melt right out of her skull (which may just literally happen in this new place). There was a desk in front of a large window overlooking the prison complex. There was a swivel chair behind the desk, and she noticed it was turned so the back was facing her. Just then, a man's voice spoke from the chair, high-pitched and kinda whiny.

"Welcome to SuperJail!", the voice greeted in a very cheery and friendly tone.

The chair swiveled around to face her, revealing a sharply-dressed man. He grabbed his cane that was leaning on his desk, and leapt up onto it, pointing the cane at her.

The man was at least slightly taller than her (not counting the desk), was lanky and had long and thin limbs, had pale skin, a round head, and had short and spiky black hair. He was wearing a long-sleeved yellow dress shirt, a purple tailcoat, purple dress pants, a red cummerbund, black gloves, black pointed-at-the-toe (like a stereotypical Christmas elf) dress shoes, a red bowtie, a purple top hat with a red ribbon around the base, and large round yellow glasses (his eyes visible behind them, but you couldn't see his eye color). Like, the lenses were actually yellow. His cane had a black shaft with a gold top. And to top it all off, the thing that stood out to Faythie the most, was his tooth gap right in the middle of the top part of his mouth. Like, at least one tooth was missing completely. He was.. kinda cute to Faythie.

He took his hat off, pulled rainbows out of it, and joyfully exclaimed, "I'm the Warden, and you're a criminal!", laughing like he was on something. His face fell when he realized just then that Faythie appeared be a woman, and if that was the case, therefore wasn't supposed to be there.

"Jailbot! Alice! Jared!", the Warden called out. Almost instantly, three figures came into the room. A man, a woman, and a robot. Faythie immediately recognized the robot. It was the one who apprehended (is it even right to say that, considering that she actually didn't do anything illegal?) her at the movie set and dragged her here.

Jailbot was the robot. His job was to apprehend new inmates for the prison, take them to the prison, and do other tasks around the prison. He was a large, levitating, tombstone-shaped robot, with a dot-matrix screen on his "head", normally displaying a green ":]" (except horizontal with no quotation marks).

Alice was the woman. Her job was the prison guard/corrections officer. She was tall and muscular, wore a uniform with two shades of blue, wore pink and red glasses (her eyes not visible), had a beauty mark on her face, scarlet red hair in a ponytail with a pink hair tie, and wore red lipstick and nail polish.

Jared was the man. His job was the accountant, the only notary public in SuperJail, and sometimes the Warden's assistant. He was short, had a large forehead, had brown hair with a long shaggy brown mustache, and wore a brown suit with a yellow dress shirt and a blue necktie. He looked very anxious and was sweating.

The Warden sat back down at his desk, and the other three took their places near the Warden.

"Jailbot, I think you might have caught a woman! This is a men's prison!", the Warden exclaimed. Jailbot's screen changed to that of surprise and confusion. Then he turned his attention to Faythie, "What's your name, newcomer? Is this your first time or are you a repeat offender?", he asked her.

Faythie was sweating now, too. She had no voice. How was she going to answer that? Just then, she remembered that, for some reason, she had put her dry erase boards and markers and the storyboards and script in her coat, right before Jailbot snatched her up. She could prove her innocence and go home! (...Right?) But how was she going to get it out of her coat without them thinking it was a weapon or something? She decided she was going to risk it, and opened the side of her coat, and SHOW everyone else first. Everyone was staring at her.

She pulled her dry erase board and marker out and wrote, "My name is Faythie. I can't speak. I lost my voice from singing in a concert a few days ago.", then showed it to everyone. Everyone nodded in understanding, and the Warden even looked at her, intrigued, perhaps even slightly... sympathetic to her.

She then took her coat and hat completely off, proving by her hair and figure that she was a woman. Faythie saw a look of... interest in the Warden's eyes, if you catch my drift.

Jared then spoke up, "Then if she's a woman, she's not supposed to be here! She was supposed to be picked up by Nova and taken to the Mistress's UltraPrison!"

Warden asked, "What are you in for, anyway, my dear?", he asked Faythie almost seductively. Jailbot displayed footage of the purse snatching he had somehow gotten. "I see.", the Warden replied thoughtfully.

Faythie shook her head, and retrieved her script and storyboards from her coat, and handed them to the Warden. Warden looked at them, and his face looked... disappointed and sad, and his tone reflected that. "Well, it appears she's not actually a criminal. She was just acting in a movie. Phooey, I though we had a new friend...". Faythie wasn't going to lie, she actually felt bad for him. Meanwhile, Jailbot changed his screen to an apologetic "sorry" face. Warden continued apologetically, "I'm sorry, Faythie. It appears my Jailbot couldn't tell if you were a man or woman, and couldn't tell that that was a movie you were filming. Please forgive him.", he said, getting weirdly physically close to her.

Faythie smiled and nodded, and Warden and Jailbot looked relieved.

"It IS getting rather late...", the Warden stated, scheming. "Maybe you should spend the night and Jailbot will take you home tomorrow."

Faythie communicated on her whiteboard, "But I don't have anywhere to sleep, anything to eat for dinner, or any PJs or anything."

Warden waved his hand dismissively. "Nonsense! We will provide that for you."

Faythie smiled gratefully, and that actually made the Warden smile dreamily and goofily back. He thought she was so beautiful and dreamy! He'd be daydreaming about her for a while!

And little did anyone know, Faythie's decision to spend the night would forever change her and the Warden's lives, as well as forever change SuperJail! and Guasanovia, and the lives of all of their residents.

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hardyimagines · 5 years ago

Text

Sold — Part 3

may I ask you to write Something about a girl who is sold to alfie (by her father, boyfriend or else) to repay a debt, the girl is terrified by him the whole story, and he won’t soften because of her, he is as harsh and tough as in the show.

Warnings: SEX

Part 1 Part 2

———————————————————————

Grainy coffee, bleary eyes, sore feet, achy neck

Nothing seemed to be going right today for either Alfie Solomons nor you. The files on the man’s cluttered desk were completely disorganized after he’d spent the last three days putting them in their proper place. Shipments were late. Men were slacking off in their work. The man was completely drained. Each time he swore he’d found a solution for a problem, another issue would arise, sending his body bubbling with the boiling anger he’d just managed to calm. His hand lifted to his face, fingers pinching the thin leg of his spectacles so he could remove them from his eyes. He let them dangle from the silver chain that hung around his neck so he could rub the length of his face down repeatedly, trying to relieve some of the building tension he felt.

You didn’t have that much to complain over, nothing apart from the fact that your heel had broken that morning when the pair of you had arrived. Your coffe was not only cold, but each sip was filled with bits and pieces from the filter. You gagged for the third time before dumping the caffeinated beverage down the sink in the corner of the room. A quiet yawn escaped you accidentally, alerting the man of your lack of energy. He’d offered you his mug of hot, sugar-infused coffee, but you found it hard to accept because then he’d be grouchy all day. You’d just be tired. You figured you’d be easier to deal with so you assured him that it was alright for him to keep his cup.

The sofa in the corner of the room had become your best friend over the last few weeks. It was comfortable and clean, so you didn’t mind plopping down on the fluffy cushion and busying yourself with doodling while Alfie worked. It was only on occasion that you came into the distillery with him. You had a job of your own, but they didn’t need you every day of the week — and on those said days, Alfie wanted you to tag along with him. He didn’t mind you staying home alone, keeping Cyril company, but he figured you didn’t want to be cooped up all day in a home that didn’t truly feel like home. He always offered a spot on his sofa and you very rarely declined. It wasn’t exactly horrible at his work. He was relatively sweet to you, tucked away in the privacy of his office. Ollie, his assistant, was really the only person to ever venture into the room and when he did, he was only here briefly. Ollie was the least bit of threat there was and Alfie didn’t feel the need to put up a front when he was around so he was never rude to you during those brief conversations.

You brushed your fingers along the navy cloth of your cotton dress. Smoothing down the wrinkles that had formed overtime due to your shifting, you sucked in a heavy breath of air before reaching for the novel on the coffee table. The writing was in French, a language you couldn’t understand, but beneath each line of words in French, there was an English translation. Of all the books on the bookshelf you could’ve selected and you picked one that wasn’t considered to be an easy read. Alfie sort of admired you for that.

“Ses yeux étaient faciles à confondre comme des étoiles,” You spoke up quietly, unsure of if you’d pronounced everything in the book correctly. There was a lingering silence. “What does that mean?” The curiosity in your head carried over into your gaze as you looked toward Alfie. “There’s no translation beneath it.”

Alfie adjusted his arms on the table. The hand that cradled his pen fidgeted, adjusting the utensil momentarily as he re-read what he’d written on the forms in front of him. He only looked to you when a few more moments had gone by. He hadn’t really registered what you’d said in French.

“Read it again.” He uttered gruffly. Licking his thumb, he swiftly turned the page of the form in front of him before resuming his task.

“Ses yeux étaient faciles à confondre comme des étoiles.” He sensed your reluctance when you’d finished. What did it matter if you pronounced the words wrong? It wasn’t as if he’d judge you.

“I don’t speak French.” He warned you. “Why are you asking me?” Laying his pen down on the thin piece of papers that lined his desk, he leaned back in the creaky, worn chair and folded his hands behind his head, peering at you.

“Then why do you own a book that’s in French?” Squinting at him in confusion, you marked your page with one finger before using the rest to flip through he remainder of the book.

“I’d like to learn.” He murmured before lifting the glasses around his neck back on to his face. Pinching the pen, he dropped it in the silver cup holder before gathering the papers into one big stack and tucking them away inside the filing folder in his cabinet. You didn’t know what to say to him, so instead of responding verbally, you let out a semi-interested hum before flipping back to your spot in the book. You supposed you could just skip that line. You didn’t get very far though before Alfie, now busying himself with picking at the corner of his desk in distraction, spoke up. “Her eyes were easy to confuse as stars.” His words were breathy. He continued on with the book, not needing you to voice the rest of the paragraph for he had the book memorized. “Voice as smooth as silk, too inviting to run away from. She’s dangerous, she’ll break your heart.” He let out a quiet grunt. “Similaire pour toi.” He whispered. You stared at the book. His last sentence, in French, wasn’t in the book — so you figured what he’d said pertained to you. But you didn’t understand him so you didn’t say anything.

The room was quiet then, the pair of you casted into a comfortable silence as you continued to read through the book. Alfie stood from his creaky chair, heavy footsteps impossible to ignore as he sauntered over to the bookshelf and lugged open one of the drawers. He stuck his hand inside and drew out a small candle. You watched him from your peripheral, inspecting what he was doing. He cradled it securely in his palm, rolling it around as he stared down at the wick. It was still useable. You brushed your thumbs along the old pages in the book, lips parting so that you could inquire what the candle smelled of. ‘It was none of your business’, you were sure that was what he’d say but that didn’t cease your want to pry. You dropped your book on to your lap, hardcover closed as you opened your mouth to silence your curiosity.

The second an exhale of your breath escaped, the door in the corner opened and Ollie came sauntering in with an instant apology.

“There’s a bloke downstairs, Alfie, real desperate to get up here and speak to you. Says his names Williams?” Ollie was confused. He didn’t recognize the bloke’s name, but it was because the few meetings they’d had at the distillery, he hadn’t been present for. Alfie straightened beside the desk as he set the candle down, blue eyes flickering from you to the door.

He could see the worry on your face, the instant panic. You clutched tightly on to the book in your lap, afraid that this was some sort of set up. Was Williams here for his turn?

Alfie stood. “Ollie, take her home, now.” He growled. “I don’t want her anywhere near Williams so go out the back and..” The loud thumping coming from the stairs pulled Alfie’s attention back to the door. There was only one way in and one way out and now it was inevitable, if that was Williams on the stairs, you’d have to pass by him. Alfie’s thigh hit the desk as he stepped around it, the contents on the table shook noticeably as he smoothly took ahold of your small hand and drew you up and off of the sofa. You struggled to grab ahold of your book, barely managing to grasp it before you looked up at the towering man when he spoke. “Down the stairs, out the door, to the car, and get home. Don’t even look at him.” He whispered to you. You bobbed your head harshly before looking toward Ollie.

The lad placed his hand on your back. “Eyes low.” He whispered alongside Alfie. Leading you out of the room, he tried his best to stand between your body and Williams’ but the stairway was small so he had to step behind you.

Alfie hovered in the doorway, ensuring that there was no chit chat. He sensed Williams was about to stop and speak to you, so he spoke first. “Don’t bother greeting her, mate, she and how she’s doing, right, that isn’t your concern. Come on, then. I don’t have all fucking day.” Williams’ previously slowed footsteps resumed their initial speed on the incline. He glanced over his shoulder toward you, making a mental note to find you later this week. He wanted to offer you the money to take you to bed — not Alfie. Alfie was clearly too possessive now.

Ollie snatched your wrist delicately in his palm before shoving the door to the distillery open and leading you out to the parked cars. You kept your eyes on the ground as you’d been directed to do so and when you were safely tucked away inside the car, you breathed a sigh of relief.

Ollie climbed into the driver’s side, soft eyes moving along your features as he inspected you. “Alright?” Your head bobbed. “Alfie told me what happened.” Your shoulder’s shrugged, head turning so you could look out the window. “You know he feels guilty, don’t you? I mean, you must.” He narrowed his eyes when you still refused to speak. “If he didn’t care, you’d still be in the room right now while they’re talking.” His last words were a mere whisper, almost inaudible but because of the silence you’d heard him clearly. You had no clue what to say to Ollie, no clue why he was even defending his boss right now, but you propped your elbow up on the window and set your cheek in your palm, head shaking softly.

He didn’t say anything else and you didn’t either. The pair of you were quiet for the remainder of the journey, until it was time for him to bid you goodbye as you climbed out of the car.

The house was surprisingly cold so the second you stepped inside, you shivered visibly. Cyril came stomping down the stairs to inspect which one of his owners had arrived and the second he saw you, his tail wagged wildly. You sent him a smile glistening with admiration before you moved to the fireplace. It was difficult to get a fire going and pet the bullmastiff that was craving all of your attention, but you managed, it just took a little while longer.

Alone with your thoughts, you lifted yourself away from the hot fire and moved to sit on the sofa. You had hours to think over what Ollie had said, what Alfie had done, and how you felt about it all. It was only 3, so you knew you’d have quite a while.. You weren’t really sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

—

It was almost 10.

The door closed heavily, pulling you from the book in your hands. French was seemingly easier to read the longer that your eyes scanned the pages. You were sure it was simply because of the English translation though, easing you into the difficulty of learning a completely different language. Your eyes moved to the corridor, waiting for the heavy thud of Alfie’s boots as he moved down the length of the hall in search of you. All day long, since you’d arrived home from the distillery, you’d wondered what he’d say. And all day long, you couldn’t think of a damn thing. The only conclusion you’d come to was that you’d forgiven him.

Alfie drew off his heavy coat, pausing long enough to shake it thoroughly before he hung it on the rack in the corner. His hat followed the thick material, situated instantly on a different hook. Alfie stood there for a moment, taking his time to kick off his shoes though it was only a ten second job. He was not excited to see you. He didn’t want to see the pain in your gaze or deal with the confrontation that was inevitably going to happen. You were going to ask questions about Williams and he didn’t blame you in the slightest — he just wanted this long day to come to an end.

He began to make his way down the hall, sock clad feet thudding softly, not as hollowly, against the floorboards. He figured you were in the living room, curled up on the sofa in front of the dancing flame of the lit fire. He could see the orange dancing on the walls before he even made it to the entry. You had your head tipped south, strands of your hair getting in the way of your reading and each time one would annoyingly tickle your sensitive skin, you’d brush it back and behind your ear where it would stay for a few seconds. Alfie hovered in the doorway before clearing his throat to announce his presence. It took you a moment to finish the current page you were reading, but once you’d completed it, you lifted your inquisitive eyes to him. You held his gaze bravely, waiting for him to be the first to speak.

“Evening.” His voice was deep, it dripped with what sounded like exhaustion. The lift of your eyebrows was the only greeting he received. His blue eyes moved along your small form, studying you as he reached up to unclasp the suspenders that embraced his shoulders. He let the silence linger in the room, unbothered by the quiet sound of the log in the pit, crackling as it burned. He knew you wouldn’t speak. You were so stubborn, you’d wait it out. “Did you eat?”

“Please, don’t beat around the bush.” You exhaled in annoyance. Tossing the book down on the coffee table, you stood. “What did he say?”

Alfie could’ve played dumb. “He came to talk about business.”

You narrowed your eyes challengingly. “I believe, considering what happened the other night, I’m apart of that.” Alfie shook his head slowly.

“No, pet, he spoke to me about purchasing some bread, yeah, that’s all.” He was lying. You could see the flare of his nostrils and the lie in his gaze. He moved toward the sofa, ready to be off of his feet. You watched him as he dropped down on the furniture, body instantly relaxing as all the weight was taken off of it.

“Alfie, please.” You whispered. Your tone was almost broken. He didn’t know why you needed to know so damn badly.

“Christ, lass.” He shifted. “Yeah, alright, he asked about you.” He shrugged. “That’s all.”

“He asked to have me again, didn’t he?” Alfie was quiet. “Didn’t he?” Your tone was sharper — accusing.

“Yeah, alright, he fucking did.” He swallowed thickly.

Your eyes instantly watered, stomach churning in disgust. You waited for him to continue speaking, but he never did. “So?” Your lower lip trembled. “What do I have to do?”

Alfie was stunned. He stiffened on the sofa before looking up at you, baffled. “Not a damn thing, pet. Right, I told you, you’re done with other men, didn’t I?” His head shook. “Sometimes I swear you’re deaf, aren’t you? Yeah, I said it before, I don’t want anybody to hurt you.” He shook his head. “Lost myself a fucking buyer today because of this.” He wasn’t blaming you. He should’ve never said yes to Hank having you and then this entire situation could’ve, possibly, been avoided. It was obvious he was drowning in self-guilt so you didn’t feel the need to beat him down any further.

You stared down at the bloke, watching as he rubbed at his tired eyes. You knew he wouldn’t sleep for another few hours despite the evident sleepiness that radiated off of him. He had a semi-strict sleeping schedule. You moved your hand to your cheek and scratched it absentmindedly before walking closer to him.

“You told him no?” You whispered gratefully. It was a stupid thing to be happy over. He should’ve said no from the beginning. He nodded. “Good.” Your hand moved to your chest. Closing your eyes momentarily, you opened them so that you could study him again.

“Things are gonna be different from now on, right, I’m not gonna treat you like some piece of property anymore.” He brushed his fingers through his hair, shaking out the thick strands lazily before he tipped his head back and let out a heavy sigh. He wasn’t saying that you meant the world to him or that he was going to take care of you, but you could tell that he definitely wasn’t going to roar to his friends the way that he had been, or toss you around like a rag doll. You bit your bottom lip slowly, firmly, before lowering yourself down and on to your knees in front of him. You didn’t know why you felt a surge of want or where the hell it had come from, but you felt it bubbling in your belly. Something about his tone spoke louder than his words and you could tell the bloke wasn’t going to cause or let any harm come to you.

You placed your hands on his sturdy knees. He flexed in confusion, eyes fluttering open so that he could peer at you. He wanted to verbally inquire what you were doing, but he didn’t feel it necessary. Actions spoke louder than words, and as your trimmed fingernails began to trace lazy lines up and along his thighs, he had a pretty good idea of where this was going.

Why you were doing this? He didn’t know.

Your fingers were delicate and slow as they brushed along the tops of his thighs. Rubbing his skin through the thick trousers he wore, you leaned forward, hardwood uncomfortable on your knees, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Your mouth grazed his trousers, directly moving to his crotch, clothed and covered, cock completely hidden by the cotton, but that didn’t stop you. You opened your mouth and pressed thorough kisses against him, showering the outline of his dick with affection. Your hands moved inward, nails grazing his inner thighs before they joined your mouth in playing with the outline of his cock.

Alfie wore a confused expression, furrowed brows and narrowed eyes, but the second you began your assault on him, he fell hopelessly back against the cushions. His mouth opened, head tipping back as he savored the affection you were giving him. No woman had ever worshipped him the way that you were currently doing. You moved your hand up to his belt, unclasping the fastened section. Dragging it open and out of the belt loops, you tossed it on to the floor before unbuttoning his trousers. Dragging them open so you could get to his boxers, you drew his pants down as far as you could without having to ask him for any help. He opened his mouth further to speak, but you leaned in again and resumed your kisses. You easily found the tip of his hardening erection through the thin material of his underwear. Using your fingers to stroke the length of his shaft, your mouth circled his tip, tongue curling around it as you drooled and sucked desperately at his member.

He moaned out heavily, large hand lifting to tangle in the back of your locks. He was careful not to get his rings tangled in your strands, nails tracing your scalp as he arched in the slightest toward you. He couldn’t believe the affect that this was having over him and you hadn’t even touched him skin to skin yet. His underwear was wet with your saliva and a mixture of his pre-cum. He shuffled in the slightest beneath you, droopy eyes struggling to watch your every movement as you took him in your mouth once again.

“What are you doing?” He finally groaned out weakly. He sounded as if he were drained, like he’d ran from work and back six times. He was breathless, shaking, so very helpless.

“Sucking your cock.” You stated sweetly, as if that was all you were doing.

“Through my underwear.” He pointed out in the same exhausted-sounding tone.

“You seem to be liking it quite a bit.” Brushing your finger along his hardened shaft to prove your point, you blew on his tip before smirking. His underwear resembled a tent, stuck up because of his erection. “Besides, why dive in? I want to play.”

“What’s gotten into you?” He planted his hands against the cushions and helped himself to heavily sit up. He didn’t know what had turned him on more, the fact that you wanted to pleasure him without having to be asked, or the fact that you’d taken initiative and then you’d knelt down and sucked him off through his clothing.

“Jesus, Alfie, do you want me to stop?” Gazing up at him, your small hand moved to his shirt. Sticking your hand beneath the thin material, your fingertips grazed his belly. The man shook his head pathetically. He didn’t mean to ask so many questions, he was just baffled. “I’m horny. That’s all.” You lifted yourself up to a standing position, withdrawing your hand from under his shirt. Residing between his spread thighs, you moved your hands to the bottom of your dress and slowly began to roll the material up. Alfie watched intently as your thighs were put on show and then your underwear and up to your tummy. He expected you to remove the dress all the way, but instead, you bunched it up against your stomach and stared at him like you were about to devour him.

You didn’t know what had happened either, but it was like a switch had flipped. His words had made you want to pleasure him. He’d made the wise decision to open up to you about how you were his, not Williams’ or anyone else’s. Maybe it was pathetic for you to want to pleasure him in such a manner, but who the hell cared? You felt things for Alfie you knew were wrong to feel — he owned you. But here you were, practically drooling as you envisioned having him buried deep inside you. You kept your cool though. You were in charge of this situation.

Opening your legs slowly, you moved your right leg over his, positioning yourself so that you stood above his thigh. You straddled his strong, sturdy leg, gazing down at it with a slow smile. Bending your knees, you lowered yourself down and on top of his thigh. Alfie inspected you once again, once more confused at your behavior, but not asking any more questions. Releasing your dress now that you were in place, it fell to rest around your hips. You placed one hand on his other thigh before reaching, with your free hand, for his chest. Steadying yourself as you dipped your hips south, you rubbed yourself against him, eyes instantly fluttering at the much needed friction. “God, that’s good.” You whimpered out. Your head tilted back, and your mouth opened wide. Dragging your hips back, you sunk your nails into his thigh before guiding your body forward again. Grinding against a man’s thigh had been something you’d sort’ve read about one time. It hadn’t been a thigh that the woman in the story had been humping, but it was close enough. This was your fantasy, your wants, and you figured that the more unexpected they were, the more enjoyable.

Alfie moved his hand to your hip, steadying you as you began to grind yourself over and over and over again against him. He clutched on to you, ears straining to hear every little sound you set free. Your breathing was ragged, loud, hollow, agitatingly enjoyable for him as he watched you fuck his thigh. The hand you had resting on his chest, curled tightly in his shirt as you began to rub yourself against him even quicker, firmer, ensuring that each time you humped his leg that your clit was rolled in the process. His grip on your hip tightened the longer that he watched you, and because of all the times he’d fucked you, he knew what it sounded like when you were close to orgasming. Your breathing was growing shakier and your stomach was moving faster with your breaths. He could tell you were about to climax and he expected you to vigorously rub yourself against him.

He did not expect you to scramble up and off of his leg and into his lap. You straddled his underwear-covered cock and wasted no time before lowering yourself down on his thighs. Using your hand to guide his dick directly where you wanted it, you arched your hips and pressed yourself against his shaft. Grinding against him desperately, you selfishly rubbed your clit along his shaft until that deliciously mind-numbing feeling flooded your body. You cried out loudly, careless as to who heard you orgasm. You drew out your orgasm for as long as you could, before collapsing against his chest. Your small arms curled around his broad shoulders, clinging to him as you shuddered. He knew you were just taking a small break, waiting for your body to regain its energy before you would inevitably help him relieve himself.

His ears strained, listening intently to your heavy breaths which slowed by the minute. His palms lifted to your back, gliding along the length of it before he slowly stopped at your rear. It was only when you let out a soft, content hum of approval that he let his hands go lower. You lifted your hips in the slightest so he could get his palms underneath you and once he had, you settled down on his hands. He squeezed your bum repeatedly, mouth moving from your forehead, to your nose, and then to your ear. He wanted to urge you to help him, ask you for assistance, but he refused to sound needy.

He would wait until you offered. And while he waited, he’d squeeze your ass. His touch was gentle, but firm and you felt so relaxed. You probably could’ve fallen asleep against him, but you hadnt forgotten about his erection, you knew it needed tending to and you were going to do just that. Straightening on his lap, you slowly pushed your hair out of your face before staring down at him with a slow smile.

“Now..” You licked your lips. “Let me help you.”

Alfie moaned out gratefully before shuffling his thighs. “On your knees.” He pleaded boyishly. He was trying to give you plenty of room to kneel because he figured this was how you wanted to finish him off.

Your giggle said otherwise.

“I’m being selfish tonight, Alfie.” You told him softly. You leaned forward so your tongue could trace his lips, gliding along his bottom one as your hands moved south to free his cock from his boxers. Allowing his erection to be free from its restraints, you stood from the sofa and swiftly lifted your dress up and off of you. Shoving your underwear carelessly to the floor, you climbed back on top of him, stomach flipping with want. It didn’t matter who Alfie was, he was a fantastic lover and you didn’t think you’d ever tire of the beautiful treasure between his legs. Kneeling up on the couch so his face was eye level with your breasts, you crawled forward so the tip of his cock was directly level with your entrance. The second you lowered yourself down, he’d slide into you with expected ease. You took a moment, small hands lifting to cup the sides of his face. Brushing his messy hair back and out of his eyes, you leaned down to steal a very brief kiss. Kisses weren’t very common when you had sex with him. He was a grunter and a groaner and the fucking was strictly physical — there was no emotion. People who cared for one another, they kissed during sex. Not people who were just messing around. Not men that owned the women they were screwing.

Alfie adjusted himself below you before lifting his hands to the back of your head. Guiding your face back toward his own, he stole another kiss and then another before he wrapped his arm around your waist and slowly drew you south so that you had nowhere else to go, but directly down and on to his cock. Your mouth opened against his when he filled you. Moaning out shakily, your arms wound around his neck tightly, mouths interlocking again, but this time deeply and with no intention of stopping.

You adjusted your legs on the couch before lifting yourself up and almost all the way off of him and then dropping back down. A very quiet giggle escaped you when he bit your bottom lip, but the sound quickly morphed into a moan when you repeated the motion and began riding him. Guiding yourself along his shaft, you rode him without hesitation. Lifting yourself up and then dropping back down, you tightened your arms around him snugly, tongues battling one another as your bodies remained glued to one another as well. Alfies hands sunk into your lower back, cradling you close to him. His ass was itching from the material of the sofa, but he didn’t dare complain. He opened his legs wider and planted his feet firmly against the hardwood so that he could help you. Thrusting upward when you dropped down, the pair of you found it impossible to open your eyes at all. The heated kiss was now lazy, each of you finding it extremely hard to make out when you were so blissfully distracted. Your tongues continued to lazily trace each other, mouths brushing and teeth clacking against each other accidentally. Alfie wasn’t sure what had gotten into you, but he was loving this more than he would ever be able to express. He savored this moment, eyes opening for a millisecond before they clamped back shut.

As good as this felt, you both knew he’d be on top soon and once he was, there would be no more dominance for you. He would have complete control. Your worn body didn’t seem to mind that at all right now. You slowed your thrusting on top of him and let out a very tired, breathy whimper. It was all he needed to hear before he gave you a silent kiss. Steadying your body, he clutched you against his chest before smoothly flipping positions. He laid you out along the length of the couch and covered you like a blanket. You were sweating and found it harder and harder to breath, but you didn’t voice your complaint. Placing one hand on your sweaty forehead, you kicked your foot up and over the back of the couch. Bracing yourself for Alfie’s harsh thrusts, your free hand moved to his bicep, tracing his tattoos slowly as you gave yourself over to him completely.

Alfie hauled his hips back before drilling them forward. Shoving himself into you at an instant animalistic pace, you opened your legs as wide as possible and groaned out with each and every thrust. His hand lifted to its favorite spot around your throat, tender as he gripped your flesh. He was cautious, afraid that you would remember what Hank had done to you, but you didn’t seem scared at all. Your eyes rolled blissfully, hips doing their best to match his speed. He stared down at you with an angry-looking expression, but it was just his focused, ‘im going to fuck the hell out of you’ face. His teeth were bared and his grunts were beastly. He hammered himself into you desperately. You shut your eyes and placed your hand on his belly instead of your forehead. Whimpering and moaning each time he grunted hoarsely, you shut your eyes tightly and lost yourself in the ecstasy he was sending you spiraling through.

Alfie stared down at you, unsure of what the new feelings bubbling in his belly were. All he knew was that he wanted to kiss you until he suffocated. His free hand moved to your head, brushing your hair away from your face and the second your eyes almost sleepily fluttered open, he leaned in and kissed you again. His hips stilled then and the hand you had on his belly moved up to his shoulder. Slowly hooking your arm around him, your knees bent before tangling around his hips. He used the hand around his neck to slowly brush his fingers along your pulse. Breaking the kiss for only a second, he moved his mouth to your cheek, jaw, and then throat.

Your brows creased thoroughly. Never had he ever kissed you on your throat. Your head tipped instantly to the side, mouth hanging open as tingles of delight raced through your body. You sunk your heels into his lower back, whining pathetically beneath him.

“Oh, god.. Alfie.” Your eyes fluttered impossibly. His hips began to move again, but this time they were so much slower. You swore this wasn’t the same man on top of you. His thrusts were suppose to be violent, brutal, hip-shattering. These were hard, but slow, deep, hot. You moved your hands down to his hips, clutching on to him pleadingly. “Just like that.” You groaned out in enjoyment. His mouth moved from your throat up to your jaw, nipping playfully before he kissed back up to your cheek. “My lips.” Your plea was almost inaudible. He obeyed right away.

Your lips locked and your bodies moved in sync. You were wrapped around him like a monkey clinging to a tree. He thrusted into you with force, but at a very tolerable, slow pace. You didn’t know which you preferred more, when the couch creaked so loudly you thought it might break, or when the springs moaned so lowly from how slow the pair of you were moving. You were so aware when things were moving at this pace, it made you feel a little bit shy. You kissed him even slower, small hand lifting to cup his cheek. He brushed his hand along the front of your body, down over your breasts, ribs, and then belly, until he reached your swollen clit. He massaged the bud thoroughly, teeth beginning to bare again as he neared his climax. He wasn’t the only one though, your throat was dry and your stomach was doing repeated flips. You swore the pair of you were going to orgasm at the same time — and not even thirty seconds later, you both let out a relieved, broken array of moans. Your arms tightened around him and his kiss deepened as he climaxed deeply inside you. The pair of you stayed like that for a while, continuing to kiss long after your bodies had stilled.

Alfie didn’t draw back until your legs fell away from his suddenly stiff hips. He felt the tension forming in his muscles, pricking at his lower back as he adjusted himself on top of you.

“Fuckin hell..” He uttered gruffly. The man pushed himself up to a kneeling position before he gently rolled your small form on to your side and collapsed behind you. His arm hooked around your waist, tired body sinking further and further into the cushion the longer that he laid there.

Your body felt heavy, but also weirdly light. It was impossible to put into words, but it was one of the greatest feelings you’d ever felt. Brushing your fingernails along the sofa until your hand found his, you slowly grasped ahold of it, savoring the amount of affection taking place during this time. Alfie’s fingers twitched in your own. You thought he was going to pull away, but instead he adjusted his arm so that you could grip him more securely. His nose brushed against the back of your head tenderly before he placed a chaste kiss against your skull.

The soft crackling of the dying fire had lured your attention to it. You watched the bright embers fade, flame growing smaller and smaller as you watched it dance its way to darkness. You shivered involuntarily at the loss of heat and the shyness you’d felt toward the end of the sex had now tripled. Now what? The pair of you had never kissed so passionately during intercourse, you’d never been so delicate with each other, so involved.. You could feel Alfie’s tense chest and you figured he probably felt the exact same way.

You werent a piece of property to Alfie, you reminded yourself. But you weren’t his girlfriend either. Despite how he had defended you earlier and spoke about you when he arrived home — it didn’t matter. Why wouldn’t one care for the way their toy was spoken of? You shuffled on the sofa, warm belly growing colder as your brain reminded you that Alfie held no feelings for you. Even if he claimed that you werent something he owned, you’d still been given to him as a bargain, a plea from your ex to spare his life.

“Alfie.” You spoke up involuntarily, shocking yourself along with him. He let out a short grunt, body rolling around in the slightest as he tried to find a comfy position. “Why did you accept me” You looked over your shoulder toward the bloke who’d closed his eyes. “as payment? Surely a bunch of money is worth a lot more than I am?” Flipping over and on to your opposite side so that you faced him instead of the fire pit, your hand found his stomach, curiously tracing his abdomen.

He opened one eye, staring at you in mild confusion. He didn’t understand your sudden, very random, interest in the reasoning behind the ordeal, but he was very calm, too stress free to swat your curiosities away.

“Never took a girl for payment. Figured it might be nice to have some fucking company.” His answer was short, sweet. You licked your lips slowly before tipping your head to the side.

“Forced company isn’t exactly the same as voluntary company though, is it?” You whispered.

“Pet,” He sighed heavily, the tension in his back doing its best to work its way into his emotions. “you seem to, you know, like spending time with me, right, I mean, I don’t get the feeling you want to run away. I don’t treat you horribly, do I?” Your brows twitched.

“Offering my body to another man is a bit horrible, Alfie.” You sat up slowly, small hands moving to your lengthy strands of hair. Brushing them over your shoulders so your locks covered your breasts, you ran your tongue along your lips.

“Oi, alright, yeah, that was the one fucking thing I did, right, what I shouldn’t have done.” He lifted his hand, gesturing around the room as if it would make his words all the more serious. His rings clinked together softly, effectively drawing your gaze to them for a moment.

“I know, I’m just saying.” He sensed you didn’t want to go any further with that conversation, you’d just mentioned it as an example and he was more than happy to let it go as well. Folding his arm beneath his head, he let out another heavy breath.

“Look, right, I took you in at first because I thought it’d be fun, yeah, to have a girl hanging about. Shitty as it may sound, I was looking forward to the sex and that’s about it.” He didn’t care about sounding like an ass. “Then,” he waved his free hand around. “I got to know you and it seems that you, right, you’re nothing like that boyfriend of yours. What the hell were you doing with a lad like that, fucker didn’t have any common sense. Thought you were as foolish as he was and that you’d be this limp lass too afraid to speak up.”

Your eyes dropped to his, narrowing. He was just going to use you? That was it? “I wasn’t a whore, Alfie. I was someone’s girlfriend.”

“No, right, I ain’t saying you were a fucking whore, am I, I’m saying that I, not ever having been giving a girl before as means of payment, thought that that was all I’d need you for.” His hand brushed down the length of his face, rubbing it down as his thoughts became muddled. “You just weren’t at all what I expected you to be. You’re fiery, outspoken, but you’re obedient and you’ve got a sweet spot.” He shook his head in distaste. “I think I would’ve preferred a fucking silent, good girl that I don’t have to worry about.” You straightened defensively.

“Why? What’s wrong with me?” You frowned. You didn’t know why you felt defensive and suddenly not good enough, but you did. Folding your arms over your chest, you almost huffed.

“Not a damn thing.” He swore under his breath. “Which is exactly why I should’ve declined you for payment. But how was I, yeah, to know that some fucking girl would end up making herself out to be my top priority.” You sensed the anger that was making its way into his tone. “I like women, I like their bodies, their voices, and their kindness, but I don’t like their embraces or their presence. I don’t wonder what they’re doing when they aren’t with me or if they’re safe, pet, not unless that woman is you and it’s a bit fucking agitating, innit, to feel nothing for anyone and then wake up one day with one fucking lass on your mind and..” He was silent then. Alfie Solomons was red in the face from his confession, fueled by his anger now that he’d confessed much more than he’d meant to. He set his hand on the back of the sofa and used it to steady himself so he could shove himself up and off of the furniture.

“Alfie, wait!” You stood after him. Quickly grasping ahold of his hand, you gently tugged on him before he could get too far. “What’s wrong with that?” You whispered. “Why are you so afraid to care about someone?”

“I’m not afraid, right, just think it’s a bit silly to let yourself be so vulnerable. Opening myself up to you, you know, letting you in and all that would be lovely, wouldn’t it? Yeah, it would, but what’s gonna happen when loads of men find out my weakspot? Or if we were to ever get in an argument and I lost you, I don’t do good with heartbreak, pet. See, so that,” He lifted his pointer finger. “is the very reason I want you to forget about everything I just said. You’ve been so obedient thus far, Y/N, don’t let me down now.”

The pair of you stood there. Your gaze was watery and his was apologetic. You were stood bare before him, completely nude, gaze readable. You pulled your bottom lip in and suckled on it before turning away from him. He cleared his throat quietly, watching you move away from him. He did like you, a lot, but he couldn’t bear the thought of getting hurt, or god forbid anything happening to you.

So he did what he thought was right and he shut down the possibility of anything forming between the two of you. He didn’t even know if you held any feelings for him apart from distaste. He knew you enjoyed the sex, that much was a fact seeing as you’d just initiated it, but where your heart stood, he didn’t know.

Alfie took a small step back before slowly turning away and heading out of the room so he could fix something for dinner. The conversation was over and so was the moment. ——————————————————————

A/N: I don’t speak French!! I used google translate so if something is wrong IM SORRY, CORRECT ME PLEASE.

“Similaire pour toi.” = “Similar to you.”

Tagged: @peakblogbecauseimweak @bsotstory @mollybegger-blog @morphoportis @ghost-of-student-sufferings @drippydownes2002 @ellar21 @sovereigngoth @willowick13 @xxxxxeroxxxxx @wheresthewater @anrm1 @pansexualginger @marvelgirl7 @evilspretty-dead @heyitscam99 @wow-he-cute @haroldpain @justrepostandlove @sparklyreaderx @emerald-bijou @multireality @innerpaperexpertcloud @goodiesintheclosetlove @giftofdreams @ihclipse @meer0rauschen @inkedfandom @thatsamegirl @doct0rstrange @jakechillenhaal @shanty-lol @centerhabit @clevertheoristpainter @jamierdr @favouritereadings @badmaax @thephuonganh @wewillfindourwaythere @uhhhemilyrose @scarrasco1325 @matoki-darkpanda @bignastyfan-nz @97freaknik @hot-and-spiceyyy @azayamari @shane-isa-shame @chimthighz @azayamari

#tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagine #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons fanfic #peaky blinders imagine

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absolxguardian · 6 years ago

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Book of Ga-Huel/Age of the Amulet Lore masterpost

Instead of doing multiple posts about cool facts like I normally do with star wars books, I’m doing a masterpost instead. However, this one will only include new lore the two books have revealed, instead of character moments and the like I’ve marked. Anyway these two books are really good and you should read them! I’ll put all my comments under the cut because of length

The angry words popped into Spar the Spiteful’s mind as he charged through the humans’ pathetic excuse for a city. The Trollhunter never much cared for the hornless, helpless creatures Merlin had entrusted him to defend. And this new village of theirs—this “Sumer,” as they called it—paled woefully in comparison to the jeweled majesty of his own underground home, Glastonbury Tor Trollmarket. At least the Sumerians were asleep at this late hour and not around to bother Spar.

So from this, we can infer that Merlin, and the Trollhunters, predate the age of Arthurian legend. Which makes sense timeline wise, since the comic established that Kanjigar was the only trollhunter after Deya. And depending on how many trollhunters in Spar is, it’s possible that Merlin predates the agricultural revolution. Although that leads to the question of how Merlin was able to develop metalworking before the rest of the human species. It’s possible that the Island of Avalon exists in Trollhunter lore, which was home to technologically advanced magical humans like Merlin or Morgana. Although since historically Glastonbury Tor has been considered a location for Avalon, it could also be that the island doesn’t exist in trollhunter lore and the first Trollmarket is a stand-in. Trolls as a species also probably predate humans, which is probably why they ate them for so long. For a long time, they weren’t sentient, so the act wasn’t morally questionable.

The Amulet lit the tunnels like a torch. Spar crept down the passage, sweeping aside thick sheets of webs and keeping his Daylight Club at the ready.

The weapon of the amulet wasn’t always a sword (possibly because they hadn’t been invented yet), although Spar might have just been modifying his weapon with a gemstone.

“You . . . you are copying what these ancient walls show,” said Spar. “But how can they possibly show events that have just happened—events that have not yet come to pass?”

“You’d have to ask their author,” answered the Troll, nodding to the carved likeness of the wizard. “He’s left them in countless caves across the surface world.”

Merlin created more future telling wall murals than just the ones located in his tomb.

“Sorta like A Brief Recapitulation of Gumm-Gumm Lore, huh?” joked Jim.

“Just so, Master Jim,” Blinky confirmed. “The Gumm-Gumm’s former king, Orlagk the Oppressor, commissioned it after learning of the Venerable Bedehilde’s forty-seven volume magnum opus.”

All forty-seven volumes of A Brief Recapitulation of Troll Lore were written before the rise of Gunmar, although it’s possible Blinky is just misspeaking and not all the volumes were written before the book of Ga-Huel.

Despite himself, Draal could not help but feel sorry for Jim’s mother. He had sworn to protect Barbara to his dying day, much as he swore devout allegiance to the Trollhunter for sparing Draal’s life. The spiked Troll treated this bodyguard duty as the most important job of his very long existence, and intended to keep it just that—a job. But after months of secretly living in their basement, Draal had overheard how much Jim and Barbara truly loved each other. Their special bond often made Draal think about his own mother, Ballustra, and how much he missed her.

Draal has a mother (meaning trolls can have two parents), her name is Ballustra. And she’s dead.

“I’d hazard we’re here circa the year 70 CE on your funny human calendar,” said Boraz. “Actually, I know for a fact it’s 70 CE because that’s when . . . well, you’ll see!”

Moonlight shined down through the Colosseum’s open-air arena. Jim noticed how it reflected off their armor and asked, “Boraz, are . . . are we actually here?”

“HA!” roared Boraz. “Only in spirit, small one. In these Void Visitations, we may observe what has transpired. But none may see, hear, or touch us.

Boraz the Bold held the mantle of Trollhunter from after Spar’s death during the Sumarian age to around 70CE. Lucky guy, he survived for a really long time. Also, the spirits in the void can show living Trollhunters what happened in the past.

“Not where, human Trollhunter, but when!” corrected Unkar, who then paused, appearing momentarily confused. “Actually, I guess it’s where and when. Because we traveled through time and space and—look, kid, we’re in the Yucatán Peninsula around 200 CE, okay?”

Unkar the Unfortunate was the Trollhunter in 200CE. Despite this being before the Migration, troll settlements did exist in South America.

“Correct,” said Kanjigar. “Although Gunmar had been vanquished to the Darklands by this point, the Janus Order still contracted these misguided humans to find and incinerate Bodus’s Last Rites. This, I could not allow.”

The spirit nodded his horns to the side, and Jim saw the living Kanjigar steal into the castle through a tunnel dug by his gyre. The soldiers opened fire on the Trollhunter with their machine guns, but he deflected the hail of bullets with the flat of his Sword of Daylight.

Strickler/The Janus Order contracted Nazis to get them to burn Bodus’ Last Rites. The Sword of Daylight (and presumably the armor) can deflect bullets. Also, go Kanjigar the brutally efficient Nazi slayer!

It featured an old drawing of Jim in his armor, fighting for his life in the middle of an epic Gumm-Gumm war. The date inked below it read 501 CE.

This is just a hook for the next book, but based on Age of the Amulet, we can figure out that the rise of Gunmar and the death of Orlagk was in 501 CE.

The Gumm-Gumm flexed his claw, forcing strands of opaque energy to rise and weave into the jagged shape of a sword. Once it had solidified, Orlagk trained his Decimaar Blade on Tellad-Urr and said, “This one has a point.”

The Decimaar Blade originally belonged to Orlagk before Gunmar.

“England?” Jim marveled. “Blink, how can you be sure?”

“Blinky from here,” AAARRRGGHH!!! said as he appeared over the next hill, carrying Toby and Claire on his back. “Well, under it.”

Blinky is from the Glastonbury Tor Trollmarket and is a young whelp during 501 CE (the past section the team is transported to).

Also, Tellad-Ur got really fed up with being a Trollhunter and became the only (known) evil trollhunter. He took over Trollmarket, imprisioning everyone who wouldn’t fight with him. He provided Gunmar with the metal, raided from human villages, to arm Gunmar’s rebels. He was defeated by a time traveling Jim, although the credit was given to the next trollhunter, Gogun. There’s no one quote for that because that’s the plot of the book.

“And Rundle sadly passed before Deya delivered us to the New World,” said Bagdwella.

Rundle probably died between the Battle of Killahead and the Great Migration

“So be it,” announced Kilfred, accepting the junk staff. “I shall lead you, and, together, we shall restore Trollkind to its former glory!”

The assembled Trolls roared so loudly in approval, Steve and Eli jumped. The sudden movement reminded Kilfred of their presence. He pointed his new staff at the two humans and said, “Now let’s start by eating those two!”

Kilfred was very pro-eating humans.

Blinky had squinted his many eyes as he and his two friends were pressed through the blinding tunnel of light and rock. Once they reached the other side, Blinky’s vision returned, and he beheld the Trollmarket in which he had grown up. It now seemed much smaller to the adult Blinky, although he easily recognized the purple Heartstone growing upside down from the cavern ceiling.

The orginal hearstone was a stalgtite and also stayed around long after Gunmar’s birth. Although, this could be a second heartstone or they just still keep it around.

Impressed by Blinky’s ingenuity, the freed Trolls all dropped to their knees and bowed to their savior. Surprised by the sudden genuflection, Blinky said, “Great Gronka Morka!”

“Great Gronka Morka!” repeated the worshipping Trolls. “Great Gronka Morka!”

Blinky, Toby, and AAARRRGGHH!!! all looked to each other in surprise before the six-eyed Troll said, “I-I thank you for your praise, but please stop. My name is actually Bl—”

“Great Gronka Morka! Great Gronka Morka!” chanted the liberated Trolls. “No, no, no,” Blinky dismissed impatiently. “Great Gronka Morka was a legendary wise Troll. A scholar, much like myself, with six eyes, also much like myself, who appeared out of the blue one day to lead one of the most famous jailbreaks in Troll legend and—”

Blinky is Great Gronka Morka! And the origin of the phrase/name is a paradox. The reason Blinky says it a lot, is probably because that's the troll hero that saved a young Blinky and Dictatious from prison.

AAARRRGGHH!!!’s runes faded as he stared the young Krubera in front of him. It was like looking into a mirror. The young Troll’s horns were stubbier and his shoulders were barely covered in mossy green fur, yet AAARRRGGHH!!! recognized the face, for it was his own.

“You look . . . like me,” said teen AAARRRGGHH!!! before he decked his grown-up self.

Aaarrrgghh was taken during the time when Orglark ruled the Gumm-Gumms. So the whole kidnapping troll whelps isn’t a Gunmar thing. Also he had to fight himself at one point.

“Ah, a trio of Impures in our midst,” said Kilfred from atop the highest bleacher, wearing deflated dodgeballs on his horns like ornamental jewelry. “Bind them with the sacred trusses!”

Kilfred knows what a changeling is, so that means that they also predate Gunmar’s rule.

As they were shooed back to the past, Kilfred—who had been left rather traumatized by his visit to Arcadia—decided two things: One, he was cutting humans from his diet and going full-on vegetarian forthwith. And two, he was retiring from advising Trolls on how to live their lives.

So this would be how leadership of the Trollmarket passed from Kilfred to Rundle.

#trollhunters #tales of arcadia #trollhunters spoilers #blinkous galadrigal #aaarrrgghh #age of the amulet #book of ga-huel #james lake jr #i'll post the non worldbuilding stuff later

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an-ambivalent · 7 years ago

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Lies & Deceptions [Yandere! Chat Noir] [Reader-Insert]

As Ladybug travelled from one roof to another to get to her destination, she bit her lip in thought. Her mind was racing with countless of thoughts per second, and anxiety was causing her stomach to churn. She felt sick, and she felt as if she was going to throw up at any moment. This was because she was starting to feel overwhelmed by her emotions and thoughts.

Normally, as an infamous superhero duo, there were some people, and media channels who started all sorts of scandalous rumours and fake news about Ladybug and Chat Noir. Obviously, they knew better than to believe those silly rumours and let fake news cloud their judgement of each other. It was for this very reason that Ladybug ignored the article which was published to address the rumours of Chat Noir murdering akuma victims. For the most part, it seemed as if the author of the article tried to maintain a neutral perspective while writing the entire article. However, no published piece ever portrays a neutral perspective on a subject; it will always leans towards a certain bias. In this case, the article had solid evidence with people anonymously confessing that Chat Noir was a threat to be recognized.

It was a very convincing article and it had gained decent amount of attention. However, just like Ladybug, Chat had been a respected superhero for years now, and had found a place in the heart of every Parisian. There was simply no way the beloved Chat Noir could murder someone. That is what the majority, and Ladybug believed, despite her gut constantly signalling her that that was not the case.

She should have listened to her instinct. After all, instincts were born from fear, that engulfed one’s self for a reason. And the ugly truth she had continually denied, was revealing itself to her.

Now, Ladybug needed to embrace the fact that her long-time partner, was nothing but a possibly psychotic stranger, who would not think twice before getting rid off her. So, she needed to be completely wary of Chat, and treat him like an enemy. She could not afford to make any miscalculations, or any mistakes, because this time, it was not just their miraculous at stakes.

It was their lives.

A battle of cunning lies and unknown truths was beginning, and in this battle, there would only be one winner.

Ladybug needed to make her victory certain. Not only so she would not die, but also to protect the innocent individual who had unknowingly become Chat’s victim, all because Ladybug had rejected him.

It was her fault that this mess had begun because she failed to support Chat when he needed her the most.

So, Ladybug swore, it was going to be her who would protect [Name] [Surname] from any further harm.

***

It was a bit past midday when Ladybug had reached her destination. The skies which were grey before, had just seemed to become duller. Suddenly, the skies had darkened so much, that it felt like it was nighttime.

Ladybug blinked owlishly as she landed on the window’s sill out of [Name]’s room. Grey curtains were withdrawn over the windows from the inside so Ladybug could not see inside the room.

Out of nowhere, a shiver ran down Ladybug’s back as she felt a deep gaze digging holes in it. Sweat begin to form on the back of her neck, and shaking slightly in fear, she glanced around her surroundings warily.

Chat hasn’t followed me, has he? She asked herself, and suddenly, that thought manifested her fear. Wanting to get this done and over with, she loudly knocked on [Name]’s window.

“[Name] [Surname]?! This is Ladybug! I got your text and I came over as soon as I could! Please let me in,” Ladybug exclaimed, as she continued to knock on her window.

Right away, the curtains in front of Ladybug’s vision were drawn back, and Ladybug’s eyes widen when she saw a timid [e/c] girl staring back at her with wide eyes. [Name]’s shoulders were tensed, before she quickly opened the window, and ushered Ladybug inside. As she did so, [Name] glanced around her surroundings to make sure they were not being watched. As she looked around her surroundings, she stopped, and gazed at a certain spot for a few seconds. She narrowed her eyes at the spot. Her lips seemed to twitch upwards momentarily.

She stepped back, as she shut the window, and withdrew the curtains. She turned towards Ladybug, her eyes filled with panic, and evident anxiety radiated off of her.

“You weren’t followed right? You didn’t let him pick up on any hints that I contacted you right?” [Name] asked, her words bluttered out in a rush--a sign, that conveyed her uneasiness.

Ladybug’s shoulders tensed because yes. Yes, that she had given it away, and maybe she was followed. She was too busy being lost in her thoughts of what she had to do in the future, that she had forgotten to focus on the present, and pay attention to the sound of footsteps and other noises to make sure she was not followed.

She had already made so many mistakes.

Observing the fidgety girl of nervousness before her, Ladybug decided the truth would do nothing but scare the poor girl before her into a panic attack. She decided she was going to lie.

Another mistake.

Ladybug gave her a reassuring smile.

“Nope! I was s-super discreet about it,” Ladybug answered, stammering ever so slightly. Inwardly, she cursed at herself and hoped that [Name] would not notice her not-so-discreet lie. Momentarily, she felt fear shoot through her when [Name] stared at her dead in the eyes, with an expressionless face. However, as soon as that blank expression appeared on [Name]’s face, it disappeared, and Ladybug wondered; was she imagining things?

She shook off her worry, as [Name] breathed out in relief. Then, she gave her a small, soft smile.

“Thank goodness,” [Name] began, as her shoulders finally relaxed, and she ran a hand through her hair strands. Then, she frowned and looked at Ladybug with utter seriousness.

“I’m sorry for suddenly giving you such a strange message, but I really need your help. At the very least, please hear me out. I know that as the main heroine, and of course your own personal life, you don’t have much time. If I’m not worth your time, then please by no means, feel obligated to help me. I am surprised that you even came here for someone as worthless as me, so thank you,” [Name] said, smiling awkwardly at her.

Ladybug’s eyes widened and she narrowed her eyes at [Name]. She did not miss how [Name] continued to refer to herself as ‘worthless.’

Why would she talk like that? Ladybug wondered, but decided to not comment on it.

She shook her head, and smiled at her.

“It’s no problem. It’s my duty as a superheroine to help those in need,” Ladybug answered, and [Name] hummed in response.

“Why don’t you take a seat?” [Name] suggested, motioning her head towards her bed. Ladybug nodded, as she robotically walked to her bed, and gently sat down.

“Refreshments?” [Name] asked, as she picked up a tray, that had two glasses of orange juice on it, and some chips.

Due to patrolling, Ladybug was really hungry. It seemed as if she had not realized that until this very moment, when her stomach growled, very loudly.

Ladybug blushed, and she smiled in embarrassment.

“Yes please,” She said, as [Name] giggled, and handed her a glass.

Mindlessly, Ladybug accepted it, and took a sip from it.

She did not question why [Name] had two glasses of orange juice, and not one, when there was obviously no one else but her at home. She also did not notice the small ladybug sticker that was at the bottom of her glass, which indicated that the glass Ladybug drank from, was specifically for her.

[Name] smiled as she saw Ladybug drinking more orange juice.

She openly eyed her earrings.

“So,” [Name] began, as she narrowed her eyes at Ladybug.

“What is it like being Ladybug? Is it your earrings that give you the power?” [Name] asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

Ladybug furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, as she consumed more contents of her beverage which was awfully a bit too sweet.

“Why are you asking me that? Shouldn’t we be discussing Chat?” Ladybug asked, and suspicion filled her eyes.

“Oh, Chat? Yes, we should definitely discuss him,” [Name] started, and she gave Ladybug a sickeningly sweet smile.

Speaking of sick, Ladybug suddenly began experiencing an extremely painful pounding in her head.

She yelped out in pain, as she clutched her head.

“W-What’s h-happening?” She stammered, as her voice became rasped, and her breath shortened.

[Name]’s eyes widen in delightment.

“You’re dying,” [Name] began nonchalantly, as her grin widened.

Ladybug’s eyes widen.

“And back to discussing Chat, he spends WAY too much of his precious time with a bug like you. It was about time you got squashed,” [Name] said, smirking.

“Y-You won’t g-get away with t-this,” Ladybug stammered, before she gasped loudly, and fell back on [Name]’s bed.

The [h/c] female grinned, as she reached for Ladybug's earrings.

“Oh honey, I already have,” [Name] stated, smiling.

As she took the Ladybug Miraculous, a red glow occurred throughout the room, which meant that the previous Ladybug’s transformation had been released. It revealed to be a black-haired female--Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

[Name] did not spare her a glance. Instead, she became focused on the new red Kwami--Tikki--who was floating in front of her.

With her eyes widened in fear, Tikki watched in horror as [Name] put in the Ladybug earrings, and then turned towards her.

She smiled sweetly at the ladybug Kwami. It was a reassuring smile, which had danger hidden behind it, if Tikki did not cooperate.

“So, little bug,” [Name] called, and Tikki shivered.

“I-I’m Tikki,” She muttered, and in response, [Name] squealed.

“You sound so cute! I hope we can be best friends,” She exclaimed in excitement.

Tikki opened her mouth to reply, and her eyes flickered to an unconscious Marinette.

She felt her lip quiver, and tears prickling the corner of her eyes. She wanted to scream and curse at [Name], but she knew that she could not. She diverted her attention back to [Name], whom’s eyes were now slitted in concentration, and she was fully focused on Tikki.

The seriousness of her gaze caused a shiver to run down Tikki’s spine, and [Name] gave her a cheshire smile that Tikki thought befitted a black cat more appropriately, than a bug to be.

“So tell me,” [Name] began, as Tikki glanced down on the floor, and clutched her hand tightly, in fear of knowing the horrors that awaited her.

“How do I become Ladybug?” [Name] asked, excitement emitting from her.

Just like the Butterfly Miraculous, and the Chat Noir Miraculous, The Ladybug Miraculous, had now fallen into the wrong hands. As [Name] was her new chosen, Tikki had no choice but to submit to her demands.

———

first | (previous chapter) eight | next chapter ten | Masterpost

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terraclae · 7 years ago

Text

Fracture, Part 2

lore pings: @yuushanoah-fr @cityofinoue

Consider this an unexpected second part I'm posting early.

-Part 1 Link-

‘What is that supposed to mean?!’

‘Sachi, please calm down.’ Carmen said. He didn’t calm down. Instead he rammed harder against the cell door and despite the restraints Balam had put on him to suppress Shade the man was still able to almost take the door out of its hinges. ‘Please just talk to us.’

‘Like hell! Arodan, explain yourself!’ Sachairi rippled and smoked and the anti shade restraints were on the verge of being useless. ‘I thought you had a modicum of sense but you’re just mad.’ Sachairi continued to hiss. 'You turned my friends against me.'

‘Because I haven’t explained it fully yet, that happens when you try to choke someone.’ Arodan whispered, staying close to the opposing wall. Balam loomed to his right and Atlas to his left and without giving a proper explanation he didn’t feel particularly safe quite yet. ‘Listen, I don’t mean to ruin your perception of reality or your relationships, but these people need to know Sachairi.’

'Yeah, that apparently I'm dead!' Sachairi sarcastically yelled and rammed his head against the bars once more until Carmen reached out and stopped him. 'What… Then what am I supposed to do? If that nonsense you're spewing is true?'

'I'd like to know that too.' Balam grunted. He eyed Arodan suspiciously and he seemed on the fence about questioning Arodan too. 'So, explain your case.'

Carmen and Atlas were staring at Arodan with similar suspicion although Atlas looked at him with mildest wariness. He looked more scared than anything. Even Kassa was listening in although they were smiling and maybe even amused by the situation. Arodan couldn't tell with them sometimes. Arodan flexed his fists and slowly went to retrieve Mimir, flipping her open to view his countless notes. Now that he saw them all, he wondered why he had needed to see part of Dmitri's memories to understand it all. 'I'd like to start with something you told me yourself, Sachairi.' It got Sachairi's attention although he didn't look at all pleased with the situation. 'You couldn't see ghosts before, but something happened when you were still a gladiator that gave you the ability to do so.'

'Yeah, I just got kicked in the head too hard, what's your point?'

'Is there one specific moment that you could pin down what might have been the cause?' Arodan paced in front of the bars and looked over his notes once more so he knew he was structuring his argument properly. 'When you fought someone smaller but they outsmarted you?'

'... Yeah, I think so.' Sachairi's eyes narrowed and he sat back, remembering the event. 'But I won. They knocked me over, but I didn't die. Just a momentary-'

'Blackout?' Arodan added and the interruption seemed to make Sachairi angrier than he already was. 'Do you remember the fire? After that blackout you didn't find yourself where you were, burnt and at the side, didn't you?'

'Yes.' Sachairi said, his voice having taking on a deep growling reverb. 'Are you digging around in my head?'

'Not yours.' Arodan shook his head. 'That body isn't yours. Maybe in your confusion you thought it was, and came to accept it as truth, but that body belonged to a person named Dmitri.'

'Who the hell is that?'

'The person I was speaking to in my room.' Arodan responded quietly. 'He was the one who wanted to talk to me. He pretended to be you.'

'No, I was talking to you there, we were talking about the Shade and…' He paused and searched his mind for what else he had said. 'No, wait… What did I say after that, was I weird?'

'No, because that wasn't you. You didn't say anything because something prompted Dmitri to surface and speak instead.' Arodan said, a little louder this time around. He gestured at himself and then at Sachairi. 'Dmitri looks normal because it is his body. What you are is a ghost powered by the Shade affliction you had when you were still alive.'

'And how do we know this is true?' Carmen spoke this time, still sitting by the bars. Her glare could rival Sachairi's at that moment as much as she wanted to believe Arodan. 'It sounds very farfetched to pose a theory like that.'

'I know it sounds absurd, and my head is reeling with information, but I need you all to hear me out.' His voice held a little more desperate urgency now and Arodan took another shaky breath to continue. 'After this you can decide if I am right or wrong. All I ask is for you to think on it since you tasked me to figure this out.'

Everyone was quiet for a moment and of course, Sachairi was first to speak. 'Okay fine, smartass, then what else do you have? Why am I supposedly dead?'

'Kassa-'

'Yeah, as if Kassa is so trustworthy.'

'Yes, and you are like them so shut up.' Arodan retorted. Everyone around him flinched in some way that moment. 'They argued that the moment you woke up in the crypt, so did something else. We thought it was your Shade, but if you were the primary occupant when Dmitri's soul was dormant, then of course it would be jarring if he suddenly woke up and started to take control again.' Arodan swished his tail around him to fumble with the tip as he thought. 'Dmitri told me he doesn't remember the period after the fighting pits, up until that I came in, and accidentally freed you from the mental prison you had been stuck in.' He continued, and stashed Mimir back into his bag. 'Dmitri saw you die.'

Dmitri's scowl deepened. '... I don't believe you.' He crept closer to the bars as if he somehow could claw at Arodan beyond them. 'What if you dreamt it?'

'Because people saw you run, Atlas saw your body sitting by me!' Arodan exclaimed. He walked up to the bars and bent down so he was at Sachairi's eye level. 'Let me into your head then. Somehow I got into Dmitri's the moment I touched him, if you want to prove me wrong, let me look inside your memories.'

'What kind of a question is that?!' Sachairi yelled. 'The answer is no, you don't even know how to do that and you just want to ruin me!'

'I don't! I want to help you because you're just as broken as I am, as we all are!' Arodan caught on to the slip too late and he knew he was being stared at by everyone present now. 'I… I mean…'

'Dan, I... ' Atlas spoke up. He gently nudged Arodan before coming to stand besides him. 'Maybe you should think about this. Maybe we should all sleep over this.' He grinned and the expression looked harsh on him at that moment. 'I mean, look at us. We're all being tired and paranoid.'

'You're… You're right.' Arodan nodded and he could see Balam nod along behind Atlas. Carmen hung her head but agreed to the statement. '... I'm sorry.' he said, and he stepped backwards a little.

'Hey. It's fine.' Atlas responded quietly, almost whispering. 'We-'

'That isn't what I'm sorry for.' Arodan said and as he did his hand flew to Sachairi's forehead and he grasped on to it. If this hadn't worked then he would have looked very silly and would have gotten his hand bitten off. His gamble however did work out and again his body felt as if it fell and turned inside out. This time he didn't end up in a white space. He kept falling into a darkness that seemed to have no end. This time he made sure to grab hold of something however. He reached uncertainly and his hand found a long string of sorts, taking hold of it and catching his fall in the dark. He could barely see his hands in front of him and he swore he heard the sounds of the ocean. ‘Dmitri?’

Calling out his name caused the space to ripple around him, and finally Arodan could see. The dark faded and he was in the familiar white space. On his left was Sachairi. Not the man he had known, but someone far bigger, with a wider build and a lack of burn scars. His face was decidedly beardier too. On his right was the person he could recognize, who turned out to be Dmitri.

'You- What did you do?' Sachairi pointed an accusing finger at Arodan and started to stomp over to him. 'What kind of trick is this?'

'This isn't a trick, this is what my Shade can do.' Arodan responded. He started to step back and was thankful the he wasn't quite getting caught in a swirl of memories like the last time. He could definitely feel he might be subjected to one soon. 'Sachairi, please look at him, look at yourself.'

'No!'

'Sachairi, please stop.' Dmitri ran to stand in front of Arodan and he shrank a little seeing the far taller figure who had started to smoke at the edges march up to them both. 'I know you are angry, but think of the situation.'

'Who are you even?!' Sachairi yelled and now loomed over the both of them. 'Who are you to try and lecture me?'

'Look, I don't mean for you two to fight-'

'Dan.' Dmitri gently turned sideways, pat Arodan's shoulder, and turned back to Sachairi. He took a deep breath, and promptly proceeded to stomp and break Sachairi's foot. It sent him jumping backwards clutching his foot. 'I was the person whose body you decided to steal. So I think I have some right to lecture you.' He stepped forward and kicked Sachairi over before he had the chance to get an answer in. 'And I ask you, do not test me because I've been through a lot before you and I will goddamn well persist after you.'

'I don't-'

'Shut up! Do you always want to have the last word?!' Dmitri raised his voice and the space around them flashed black momentarily. He walked closer to Sachairi and actually got the man to crawl backwards further. 'If you weren't such an immature brat that doesn't know how to let go then none of this would have happened! None!'

Quiet returned to the space, the silence only broken by Sachairi's heavy breathing. Arodan watched them, staring at each other like frightened animals. He slowly made his way so he stood further away from the two and realized he shouldn't have done this. '...Okay, uh… I-'

'I didn't want to die. That was all I wanted at that moment.' Sachairi said, his stare momentarily darting towards Arodan. 'I barely remember that moment, only fire and a lot of people running around, Striker's voice... ' He dragged a hand down his face. 'You know, damnit, it does make sense. But I don't want it.'

Dmitri dropped to his knees and looked at him with tired eyes. 'I didn't want this either. I barely know who you are and somehow I'm stuck with you.' He rubbed his temples. 'Look. I want to go home without even knowing where that, do you know how happy I was when I finally had the opportunity to talk to Arodan? Finally something made sense!' He pointed at him and then at Sachairi. 'I never talk about my goddamn emotions, and look at me now!'

'Don't tell me that, I don't care.' Sachairi pulled his legs up to his chest and leant his head on them. 'What do you want me to do?'

'I… I don't know.' Dmitri said and averted his gaze. 'I wish I knew. I wish we both knew.'

Arodan glanced between the two men. He chose to not say anything yet and sat down by them and he wondered what he could do to help them. He still heard the ocean and a breeze had started to blow through the scape. He finally decided to raise his head and spoke up. 'I can understand you're both frustrated. And Sachairi, I need to apologize, I shouldn't have gone into your head.' He turned to Dmitri. 'And I'd like to ask you Dima, why did you pull me into yours?'

Sachairi scowled and that was enough of an answer to Arodan about what he must have thought of that. Dmitri looked a lot more guilty and started to speak. 'I didn't do anything, but I wanted to explain myself somehow. Maybe that was the trigger for it.' He bowed his head. 'I know it was too personal, and I apologize for thrusting that upon you.'

'Alright. I don't know what to do with your limited memories, but that'll do.' Arodan hummed. The tenseness truly settled in him now and he realized it had been a few very long days. Weeks perhaps. Of course they'd be confused and scared, both were far removed from home. Everyone was. By all means, Arodan didn't have one. 'Hey. I have a proposal to make to you both. And I need to ask you both one more question each.' He held up a hand before both could speak. 'And I need to make something clear-' His hand flew out to point at Dmitri. 'I do not trust you yet. I understand you, but I need your word that you'll be an ally to the citizens of Paramo.'

'I told you, didn't I?' Dmitri responded, and he nodded. His movements were marked by exhaustion yet he smiled wide and warmly, as lost as he might seem. 'I don't mean harm. Even though I'm shaken I don't think you and the others seem like bad people.'

'I need you to extend that sentiment to Sachairi, alright?' Arodan sternly said, and immediately his hand moved to gesture at the man at his other side. 'Sachairi, I don't fully trust you either. But can I ask of you to work together with Dmitri, get to know him? If you're a ghost and can't manifest without a body, then it would be better if you two make peace.'

Sachairi suspiciously glanced at Arodan and spoke up. 'Where are you going with this, One-Eye?'

'I need you two to work together.' Arodan said with a blunt finality. 'Maybe we can find a way to attach your soul to something different Sacha, so it would be more comfortable for the both of you if you two got along.' He felt as if his body was going to dissolve into ribbons again and he chose to fumble with the fabric of his shirt to keep himself grounded. 'You too Dmitri. You need to explain who you are and allow yourself to make the best of this.'

'I can do that, but is there one thing I can ask of you?' Dmitri asked. Arodan nodded in response. 'Teach me magic.'

'Why?'

'Why- What, well...' He looked momentarily taken aback. 'I don't know how to cast magic and honestly I'm afraid of it. If I'm gonna be running around being scared of every little piece of withcraft- no, magic that's happening then I'm going to get nowhere.' He straightened up. 'Hell, maybe it will even help me remember why I am not familiar with magic. That is all I ask.'

'... Fine. I can do that, even if I'm not an expert.' Arodan said. It put a massive giddy smile on Dmitri's face and Arodan found it both odd and an at least optimistic attitude. 'So, Sa-'

'Yeah, two things.' Sachairi grunted. 'First, I want to stay in this body until I see Raz again and he is safe so I can explain to him in a familiar shape, if you'll let me.' He eyed Dmitri with a worried and wary gaze that fell once he got an assuring smile from him. 'I need time. I don't even know what to think about the whole being dead thing yet.' He held up two fingers. 'Second, I do not ever want you to get into my head again. Got it?'

'Yeah, I won't do that again, sheesh.' Arodan responded, defensively holding up his hands. 'How does that sit with you Dmitri?'

'As long as you don't take over without warning, and don't unnecessarily endanger us.' Dmitri folded his hands and took on a more serious expression. 'We're both stuck in this.'

'Well, there you go.' Arodan sat back and watched as the two seemed more at ease now. His hands rose to gesture at the both of them and he saw one of his hands seemed to be shifting in and out of existence and from material to material. 'Oh.' This was new and immediately he panicked. 'I have to go.'

'Dan?' Sachairi was first to notice, then Dmitri. Soon the two were scrambling towards him, equally as panicked. Arodan didn't hear what they called after him as he immediately lost control and shattered. His mind fractured into every direction and he could see glimmers of memory now he tried to keep out of his own mind. This time it did hurt, and he felt he was not alone, he heard voices from all sides and they bombarded him from all sides. It filled his head and he was horrified at the thought it might explode.

That was, the moment the pain became too much to bear, he was hit with a whole different pain. His hand screamed and soon his body reformed, and split once more.

He returned to lucidity with Sachairi's teeth in his hand and Atlas and Carmen holding him by his waist. His body went from immovably rigid to limp in a moment and he fell into Atlas' arms. 'Ow.'

'Ow?!' Sachairi unburied his teeth from Arodan's hand and crawled back at a rapid pace now that Arodan had let go of his forehead. 'My head, what kind of a giant's grip is that?!' He pressed his restrained hands to his head and fell forwards. 'Goddamn.'

'Sorry. Didn't mean to.' Arodan's vision was too blurry to make out anything and his speech slurred in similar incomprehensible ways. If it wasn't for Carmen and Atlas holding him up he would have hit the floor by now. 'Sorry.'

'Yeah, you should be, what was that?!' Carmen yelled and urged Atlas to guide Arodan to sit down already. 'Never do that again.' She appeared in front of him, he thought she did. Atlas might have also done, and he could feel his hands on his cheeks.

'Arodan, why did you do that?' Atlas spoke softly and brushed over his cheek with his thumb. He sounded gentle but Arodan could guess he was angry. He was being too soft, it stood in harsh contrast to the numb pain he felt all over and his bleeding nose. 'Hey. I'm here.'

'I know. I'm sorry.' Arodan whimpered. He felt another hand on his shoulder and it might have been Balam's. 'I just wanted to convince him.' He could feel he was going to pass out. 'I shouldn't have done that.'

'I'm sure you did, Dan.' Atlas whispered. He pulled back and nudged Carmen aside. 'Like Carmen said, don't do that again.' He picked up Arodan like he weighed nothing. 'Sleep. There's only so much reckless actions you can perform in one night.'

'... Yes.' Arodan nodded along and his vision focused while his hearing started to fade in and out. There was a ringing in his ears. He shouldn't have tried in such rapid succession. His gaze drifted to Sachairi who was staring at him from his cell. Carmen seemed to be arguing with Balam who walked off after a moment or two. If he could garner something from the ensuing conversation between Carmen and Sachairi it was that he chose to stay in his cell that night. He wasn't awake for long enough to understand the rest of it. As Atlas carried him somewhere, presumably his room, he drifted off. He wouldn't dream peacefully, stuck wondering what he had brought upon his friends.

#my lore #ch: Arodan #ch: Sachairi #ch: Balam #ch: carmen #ch: atlas #ch: Dmitri #fr

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sam-oflaherty · 5 years ago

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It’s been a while. So here’s a short story.

It’s something I wrote long ago as a rambling, poorly thought out, quasi-autobiographical piece. It’s called the Wizard and the Wandering Man, or something.

----

CHAPTER 1:

To find oneself on the floor of the aisle

The hum of refrigeration and fluorescent lighting didn’t sound very gentle to him. In fact, he found its insect-like incessancy rather agitating. His state of mind was already relatively unstable.

There was no music – not even the elevator kind. The hard linoleum floor was uneven at the joins and polished to look like marble. And save for the rattling shadow of his trolley, it reflected the artificial lighting with a brightness that made him squint and think of waking up late, drunk, and hospitals, and death. This, inevitably, led him to ponder his own hopelessness. Confusion, self-doubt and rage – directed at himself and the world around him – murmured alongside more practical wonderings. Things like the unnerving realization that he was almost entirely alone in there.

He was just one of those kinds of people.

His moustache was thick, dark and heavy. It dominated the lower part of his face and had even caused, on a couple of occasions, the recently introduced to adopt what could be best described as a Mediterranean accent while talking to him. If it were not for a pair of piercing green eyes, rimmed with dark, long and almost straight lashes that glistened with tears when he yawned or spoke with uncomfortable frankness about his feelings, one might not have noticed that he was, in fact, beautiful.

“Call me Ismael,” he said to himself as he passed the frozen fish. Then he suddenly realized the narcissism of the act, especially considering his solitude. It then occurred to him that he disliked frozen fish simply because it didn’t smell like fish. It worried him for a few more seconds. He passed the loaves of hardening bread, the bundles of wilting flowers and packages of weeping spinach. The cereal aisle was all bright colours and calls-to-action veiled in invented health benefits. He thought for a moment whether the extravagant sugar content in some of them actually caused the labels to shine with enchanting radioactivity.

A couple of deep and thoughtfully miserable breaths whistled through his moustache. He was wandering. Brooding, breathing, and wandering. He wasn’t necessarily lost in there. He knew where he was. But he had no aim. He had touched various things on his journey, even picked up a packet of gnocchetti at one stage and held them to his nose. But his trolley continued the same, weightless rattle over the linoleum joins.

“Ah! There you are.”

At this unexpected interruption of his melancholy one corner of his moustache jumped upwards, quizzically, along with the opposite eyebrow.

A Wizard shuffled toward him, one crooked arm raised, suggesting he wait there. A Wizard? He wondered why such a name had been occurred to him above anything else. He lowered his eyebrow, then his moustache too, and squinted to get a better look at this Wizard before it came too close. After a quick appraisal, he soon decided ‘Wizard’ was not such an outlandish deduction.

He saw street darkened feet, wrapped in straps of worn leather and buckle. He saw a nondescript grey robe – although it was too heavy and stiff to billow dramatically like in the films. He saw a long, once white beard dipped in ash and beer. And most of all, he saw a hat. The brim drooped and shadowed the Wizard’s soft, wrinkled face and hid the brightness (or madness) in his curiously large eyes. The pointed top was bent to one side. It was a ridiculous wizard’s hat – but one that did not seem so ridiculous on such a man.

He must have just been one of those kinds of people.

“So how have you been doing?” The Wizard spoke with disarming familiarity. He had a thick, closed accent that revealed nothing more than untraceable origins and innumerable influences.

“OK. I suppose.”

“Good. Good. So, old friend, how is it…”

“Hey. Hang on. Who…?” The moustache and eyebrow sprung back into their interrogative positions.

The Wizard simply ignored his question and carried on, uninterrupted. The moustached victim looked around, embarrassed, wondering whether anyone else had noticed this character. But he saw no one else. He decided the Wizard was quite clearly insane. And you never can be too careful with crazy people. Best to hear him out for a bit.

It turned out most of what was said that day made perfect sense. The Wizard was full of friendly chatter, rude proverbs and an impressive array of wisdoms. He spoke constantly, frankly and captivatingly as he led his bewildered companion around the aisles.

The Wizard never actually touched any of the items on the shelves. Nor did he ever place any into the rattling trolley. Instead, with a gnarled and sun spotted hand hooked under his new friend’s elbow, he made small gestures – the vague indication with a crooked, hook-nailed finger, the raised eyebrows and slight upward inclination of the head – and encouragements to his confidante to pick things up himself. The trolley’s rattle softened to a faint tap under the weight.

All the while they chatted – rather one carried on croakily and the other listened and let himself be led – in a dreamy, casual way that beguiled any suspicions the latter held initially. They covered everything from broad concepts of life and death to the just as important minutiae of newspaper prices and the strangely pleasurable feeling aroused by inducing cramps into the bottom of one’s foot.

Abruptly, the moustached man experienced a moment of what he thought was mental clarity and independence of thought. He laughed at the Wizard. He swore at the Wizard and degraded him for the hobo he was. At this outburst of cruelty on his partner’s part, the Wizard wandered off. He waved a hand nonchalantly past his ear as he departed, mumbling something about “get some liquor.”

The trolley ceased to sound when the Wizard left. One wheel, higher than the others, continued spinning, expectantly, slightly off the floor. A reactionary gap opened up just below its pusher’s moustache. He was immediately assailed by a feeling of whose main ingredients could be recognized as confusion, querulousness and outright rage. (Rage was kind of his thing). Within seconds, confusion proved to be the strongest flavour. Sure, this Wizard was probably a hobo. Maybe both. But why was he so cruel?

Then, with nonchalance and a ‘humph’ at the ridiculousness of the situation, he started to carry on his way. It was a vain attempt to shake off the shame caused by his own cruelty. And a sign of sincere, unexplainable regret.

The realization of this regret began to overwhelm him. He stopped abruptly again – after just three or four steps this time. The one, raised wheel spun momentarily, then stopped.

“Fuck.”

With a sigh, he sat down on the cold, hard, shined-to-marble linoleum floor. The artificial light was not so bright down here. He crossed his legs and rested his elbows just above the inside of his knees. He rested his face in his hands. The pressure squashed his cheeks into his teeth.

He realized he was hungry. Hungry for something delicious. He had intended to pick up a couple of microwaveable dinners – he once tested his culinary talents with reasonable success, but laziness and self-pity (and a predisposition of character in which one flaw inflates the other and vice versa) meant beans on toast and other basic, unsatisfying and bad-for-the-soul concoctions had made up most of his diet for the last few years. It was not just a question of what to cook – it was a question of how. He seriously doubted his ability to boil an egg at this stage.

If it weren’t for his moustache right then, one would have seen his lower lip tremble. Only the dimpling of his chin belied any emotion more profound than the blank look in his eyes.

Then, with a rustling of leather on linoleum and wool on old skin, the Wizard wandered past. He carried a bottle of Irish whiskey and a larger bottle of red wine. The man on the floor caught half the label – Campo Viejo… Spanish, he decided.

“So, I was half right” he said.

The Wizard stopped. “Of course. But half wrong too.”

“You’re not just a Wizard, or a hobo. You’re a drunk.”

“Ah.” The Wizard looked away from the pitiful source of this malice, which still sat cross-legged on the floor. He gazed into the middle distance (in this case much shorter than usual, as the distance to the opposite shelf, covered in tinned tomatoes, was not very far). His lips wavered as though he was about to say something. And then he did.

“C’mon” he said, looking the moustached man in the eye. He cleared his throat in what might have been an involuntary expression of awkwardness and continued. “Look at your trolley. You’ve everything you need. And you know how.”

At this, he received a blank, dejected look.

“Oh dear. Alright then, my friend. I’ll help you if you like.”

A twinkle of brightness flickered through the doubt and despair that cloaked the eyes of the man on the floor of the aisle. His moustache began to thin and stretch into an apprehensive, bushy smile.

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monkee98 · 8 years ago

Text

19 Days Omegaverse Chapter 6

Warning: NSFW

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

The stench was overpowering and he could have sworn he felt his stomach start to churn. But at least here his own scent was hidden, he was sure no one would bother searching for him in a dingy alley next to an overflowing dumpster.

“Mo Guan Shan!? I knew I recognized that red hair”

Said red-haired omega looked up and was startled to find the blonde omega that tried sitting with him at lunch last week, “What the fuck, how did you find me!?” Guan Shan stared at the excitable omega, so much for hiding.

“I saw your hair, it’s pretty hard to miss especially in a dark alley. Speaking of which, why are you sitting next to a dumpster?” Jian Yi tilted his head in genuine curiosity.

“What’s it to ya?” the redhead grumbled into his arms which were crossed over his knees.

Jian Yi moved closer and his eyes widened when he noticed the unusual scent coming off of him.

“Are you going to go into heat?” the blonde gasped. It made sense now why he was hiding here where his scent was obscured, but aside from that, his scent was still weak.

“I-no…” he replied quickly, but Jian Yi’s suspicious gaze wouldn’t budge, “...maybe”

He watched as Jian Yi suddenly turn out of the alley, probably deciding that he didn’t want to be involved with him, he ignored the slight disappointment and fear that welled up inside him at being alone again.

To his shock the omega called out to his companion who was apparently on the other side of the street, also just carelessly yelling out into the streets that he was about to go into heat, and something else after that he did not catch.

“Hey! What the chicken dick was that?!”

Jian Yi turned and shushed him before pulling out his phone and flinging it across the street.

Mo Guan Shan just stared in confusion until the other omega turned back to stand over him again.

“Is that why you’re hiding? You shouldn’t be out here by yourself” he reprimanded the troubled omega, “and don’t worry, the streets are pretty empty here” he reassured after he saw the look of utter horror on the redhead’s face when he remembered that Jian Yi just yelled across the street that he was in heat.

The longer he stayed here the worse it would get, and it was only a matter of time before Guan Shan’s scent would overpower the stench he was using to hide it.

“I took suppressants...but they started to wear off sooner than I expected” Mo Guan Shan mumbled in his defense.

“Then we have to get you out of here before some strange alpha finds you” Jian Yi stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and had it been anyone else he was addressing those words to, it would have been. But Mo Guan Shan could find no reason why this boy should want to help him, the one time they interacted Guan Shan acted straight up rude, and he acted no differently now, so why on earth would he want to help him?

“No you don’t, just leave me alone, I don’t need your help” he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the incomprehensibly kind omega in front of him.

“Well, maybe you don’t need my help, but I know someone better” Jian Yi beamed.

Mo Guan Shan furrowed his brows, “Oh yeah, and who’s that?”

“You will see” the blonde hummed.

Just as he said that they both turned to see a tall broad dark haired figure step into the alley.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” the redhead exclaimed, but Jian Yi simply turned and left to rejoin his friend who had just crossed the street.

“What are you doing out here Don’t Close Mountain? Don’t you know you’re not supposed to leave your room, you’re just asking for trouble” He Tian’s deep voice seemed to fill the small cramped space.

“It’s none of your business, just leave already” the omega sneered at the dark haired alpha above him, turning his head away.

“No, you are coming with me” He Tian reaches out to grab Guan Shan’s arm. As soon as he made contact the redhead flinched back in pain, his eyes widening in fear.

He Tian narrowed his eyes at the omega who had averted his gaze to the end of the alley instead.

“What was that?” He Tian asked as he stepped closer and slowly crouched in front of the tense omega., as if any sudden moves would cause him to flee like a wild animal.

“N-nothing, don’t touch me so suddenly you bastard” Guan Shan grunted, still refusing to look at the alpha.

“....Did you get into another fight?”

“No-”

“Yes you did. Who was it?” He Tian snapped, his eyes darkening dangerously.

“I told you, that's not-”

“It was She Li wasn’t it, what did he....or should I ask what you did to piss him off?” the alpha demanded. For some unfathomable reason, this omega had a habit of getting involved with the wrong people, and this would not be the first time She Li was involved. Although he knew it was him anyways from the vulgar scent that he left on the omega. Then again, that could just be all the trash they were sitting next to, it was hard to tell.

Guan Shan gulped, the alpha could somehow always see through him. It was frustrating how He tian could read him like an open book, but when he tried to figure anything out about He Tian, all he got was an impenetrable brick wall.

“It was nothing, why can’t you just leave me alone?” Guan Shan started to feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, really not wanting to deal with him right now.

He Tian reached out and gently wiped a stray tear off the horrified omega’s face.

“I want to know what happened. But first, you are getting into the car”, He stood and carefully pulled the redhead up with him.

“Wait, you have a car?”

“It’s not mine. My uncle lets me use it over breaks” He Tian continued to pull the omega along across the street to the parked car. He opened the passenger side door and pushed Guan Shan into the seat and closed the door before going around to the other side and settling into the driver’s seat.

“Alright, you better start talking”

“...Where are you taking me?” Mo Guan Shan mumbled, refusing to answer his question.

“My place. Don’t change the subject” He Tian shifted the car into drive and eased into the lane., not taking his eyes off the road.

“It doesn’t matter…” Guan Shan insisted, turning to look out the passenger side window.

“I could smell him on you, and you’re about to go into heat” the alpha urged, his temper beginning to bubble through the cracks.

“H-he didn’t actually do anything, so it’s not a big deal” the omega frowned, nervously wringing his hands in his lap.

He Tian stopped at a red light and shot a glance at his passenger, “What happened to your arm then?” he pushed.

“That….”, it wasn’t something he wanted to remember, the harsh grip on his arm keeping him in place, the way he was forced into a corner, he was very lucky to have somehow escaped. He knew it was stupid of him to not stay home, then go and over exert himself after taking suppressants because he had promised to help She Li today. He detested it, but somehow he always managed to get caught up in whatever that snake was scheming

He Tian could feel the anxiety rolling off the omega next to him; he tightened his grip on the steering wheel and swore to himself that next time he sees that abhorable snake he’s going to make sure he never dares think to come near Guan Shan again.

“Alright, we’re here” He Tian bit out, still aggravated by the thought of She Li’s hands on the omega. Not to mention that without the stench of alley he could catch the hints of heat coming off the redhead.

He pulled the keys out of the ignition and stepped out of the car, Guan Shan hesitantly followed him into the building. The two got into the elevator and He Tian hit the button for the top floor, Guan Shan stuck to the corner of the elevator farthest from the alpha. He chanced a glance at He Tian taking notice of his hard set jaw and the tightly balled fists at his side.

“Hey….you’re not planning on actually…” unable to finish the sentence, the uncomfortable omega pressed himself closer to the wall, still eyeing the alpha.

“What do you think?” he drawled as the elevator doors opened. He exited without sparing a glance at the redhead, he opened his door and headed straight for his bedroom.

Guan Shan stopped at the door, “....Why?”

He Tian turned around, finally looking at the omega again. Guan Shan had his arms wrapped around himself, his eyes searching for something in the alpha’s face. He Tian stepped closer to the omega, reaching behind him to close and lock the front door.

He didn’t move away, staring fixedly down at Guan Shan he brought his hand up and cupped his cheek.

“The answer to that should be obvious Mo Guan Shan”

The omega was momentarily thrown off guard by He Tian using his full name, but recovered enough to ask, “Then, why me?” not daring to move, “you could have any omega you want”

“So I have you” the alpha insisted, moved his other hand to grasp Guan Shan’s hip, his eyes darkening as the scent of heat became stronger.

Guan Shan could feel his defenses crumbling under the alpha’s heated gaze and addicting scent, he could not deny anymore that he has secretly been longing for this, for him. But he did not want to be used and thrown away, which he absently found ironic considering he was just picked up from behind a dumpster.

“But how am I….I’m not someone who should be with someone like you” Guan Shan couldn’t understand what He Tian saw in him. He should be with someone like Jian Yi, someone who’s kind and gentle, and just generally more omega-like. At least that’s what everyone would expect him to choose.

He Tian pulled Guan Shan closer, narrowing his eyes in warning, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he growled.

Guan Shan tore himself out of He Tian’s grasp, “You know exactly what the fuck I mean. I’m just your fucking cook, your damn errand boy that you know you can pay to do whatever shit you want…. You should have a gentle and innocent omega, not-not a screw up like me” he bit his lip as tears prickled his eyes, hating himself for still wanting to throw himself into He Tian’s arms regardless.

He felt his heat coming back, he wasn’t even sure why he was fighting it anymore, there was no escaping this. He just hoped He Tian wouldn’t regret this when it was all over.

He Tian growled angrily, grabbing the omega by the back of his head and roughly stealing a kiss. Mo Guan Shan, helplessly melting under his lips, moaned encouragingly as a thick fog seemed to take over his mind.

The redheaded omega let out a small whimper when He Tian pulled away suddenly, “And who the fuck wants an omega like that?” he hissed.

Mo Guan Shan looked up at He Tian with desperate eyes, the alpha wasn’t even sure if his words were registering anymore, not that he could bring himself to care at the moment.

He Tian slipped a hand under the omega’s thighs and behind his back, startling the omega by lifting him off the ground, cradling him close to his body as he moved towards the bed.

Mo Guan Shan kept his eyes on the alpha the entire time, desperately hoping he was planning on making this unbearable heat go away, “He-He Tian…” he stuttered, reaching for the alpha’s neck.

“Yeah baby, I know” he soothed the omega, deciding he loved the desperate way Guan Shan called out his name as he placed him on his bed, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you”

He kept close to the omega, not liking the way his eyes watered in fear when he had moved away slightly.

“It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere Guan Shan” not that he could even if he tried, he was barely keeping his voice level, his hands twitching to tear off their clothes and get inside him already.

But the omega was constantly seconds from breaking down, his insecurities left on full display, his heat distracting him from maintaining any of the walls he usually had around himself. The last thing He Tian wanted to do was hurt him.

He Tian slipped a hand up Guan Shan’s shirt, the other one tangling itself in fiery red hair as he leaned down to kiss the omega.

He ran his hands over a muscled stomach and toned pecs, he’s considered muscular for an omega, seeing as most kept a softer figure. But Mo Guan Shan never fit into the omega mold anyways, and if he wanted to he could probably hold his own against a lesser alpha, though helpless against stronger ones like He Tian or Zhan Zheng Xi.

“....hurts….He Tian….fuck it’s hot…” Guan Shan groaned languidly, writhing and pressing his legs together, trying to dispel some of the discomfort, though without success.

“It’ll be over soon baby” he promised sweetly.

Mo Guan Shan leaned into the caresses and let He Tian yank the shirt off, glad to finally be free of the suffocating fabric. He kissed back eagerly when the alpha’s lips reconnected with his own, reaching his hands up to grapple at the broad body beside him. He reached down to He Tian’s crotch, grabbing at the hardness through the fabric of his pants.

“Shit!” He Tian pulled back, startled, and jerked his crotch away from the omega’s touch.

The omega’s expression changed into one of confusion and hurt, he thought that was for him. Did He Tian not want him after all? He couldn’t help the anxious tears leaking from his eyes, if He Tian left him now there was no way he would recover.

“Why…..I thought..” the omega’s voice already thick with tears, his heat amplifying his emotions.

He Tian moved back in quickly, running his hands apologetically over the omega’s face, “I’m sorry baby, you startled me” the alpha normally would not have minded letting Mo Guan Shan touch him, but, at least for today, he wanted it to be about the omega.

He Tian sat up and pulled his shirt off over his head, moving so he was between the omega’s thighs. He watched the omega’s eyes roam his bared torso, his hands fisted in the sheets, unsure what to do with himself, probably terrified of being pushed away again.

He Tian reached for Guan Shan’s hands, bringing them to his lips then moving them into his hair. He Tian smirked at the curious frown on his face, moving his own hands to cup the omega’s butt and gave it a squeeze, earning a startled moan from the omega. He suddenly ducked his head to mouth at the small omega cock through the fabric of his pants.

Guan Shan arched his back, fisting his hands in He Tian’s hair, “A-Ah, Tian….feels good….more”

He Tian wouldn’t dream of denying this omega, he pulled Guan Shan’s cock free and easily took it all into his mouth. He worked quickly, knowing the first release would ease much of the omega’s discomfort.

Mo Guan Shan did not last long under He Tian’s skillful tongue, crying out in release only moments later, his hands falling from their grip in the alpha’s hair. It did not relieve him completely, but he it cleared up some of the fog from his brain.

Guan Shan looked down between his legs and saw He Tian raising his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smiling when they met eyes. The omega threw his arms over his face to hide his blush.

“You didn’t have to do that” Guan Shan grumbled.

“Of course I did, anything to make you feel better” He Tian replied fondly, grabbing his arms and prying them off his face.

“Is something wrong?” the alpha asked his voice laced with concern when he saw the omega’s red face and how he wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Are you going to leave me after this?” the redhead whispered his words so softly He Tian almost didn’t catch them.

The alpha frowned, “What are you talking about?”, he had a bad feeling about where this was going.

Guan Shan focused his eyes on some distant point past He Tian’s waist, “You’re not actually going to….shit….m-mate me….” he bit his lip and turned his head into the pillow, humiliated by the disappointment showing through in his voice

“....Guan Shan, is that what you want?” he asked carefully, taking the omega by the chin and turning his head to face him.

“You don’t-I” Guan shan swallowed heavily, “I don’t want you to regret it….” his voice small and hesitant.

He Tian sighed and nuzzled the omega’s neck, running his nose over the scent glands there, “Baby, I just sucked you off and swallowed your cum. So you tell me if that’s something you want”

The omega’s blush intensified at the alpha’s words, remembering the feeling of his hot mouth and smooth tongue.

“I’ll only do it if you want” He Tian added, moving away from Guan Shan’s neck to look him in the eyes and show him that he was being completely serious.

The omega bit his lip again, growing uncomfortable again under the alpha’s intense gaze, he really did want to be claimed by He Tian, but few omegas could say that they didn’t, he wasn’t anything special in comparison to them.

He Tian watched the omega’s internal struggle, he was sure he already knew the answer and what was causing his hesitation. Guan Shan just needed a little encouragement.

“Baby, who wouldn’t want a mate like you? You can cook, your scent should come in a bottle, you got a cute butt-”

“What the fuck?!”

“-you’re gorgeous, your hair-”

“Shut up! And my hair looks like rust”

“-reminds me of a sunrise” He Tian finished softly, he ran his fingers through the short red locks bringing his hand to the rough shaved part of his head, resting his forehead on the omega’s.

“I want you Mo Guan Shan. Just say the word and I’m yours”

“....Yes” the word slipped out before he could rethink it.

Next thing he knew his pants and briefs were gone, probably thrown into some obscure corner of the room and there were lips moving on his. The heat began to rise in him again, he could feel the already plentiful amount of slick between his thighs flow again.

He Tian flipped him over, and pulled his hips off the bed, he pressed an affectionate kiss to the omega’s lower back before ridding himself of the rest of his clothes. He sighed in relief when he finally freed his erection from its uncomfortable confines.

He lined himself up, and leaned over his body to whisper into the omega’s ear, “You ready baby?”

Guan Shan shivered at the warm breath at his ear, not trusting his words he simply nodded, grasping the sheets in a white knuckled grip.

He Tian finally pushed in with a satisfied growl, moving in until their hips were flush against each other. Guan Shan moaned in encouragement, wiggling his hips indicating he wanted He Tian to move already.

He Tian couldn't hold himself back as he began to move at a near bruising pace, not that the omega was going to complain.

“F-Fuck, Guan Shan….you’re mine now” He Tian growled into the omega’s neck.

Mo Guan Shan moaned, a pleasant feeling washing over him at He Tian’s words spoken so close.

He rocked his hips back to meet the alpha’s thrusts shakily, those words bringing him nearer to the edge; the omega turned his head to try and face the alpha.

He Tian admired the omega’s alluring expression, his cheeks beautifully flushed and his eyes glazed over in lust and desire, leftover tears pooling the corners. It was so unlike the usual frown or scowl he always wore, he honestly couldn’t pick a favorite.

“Tian...bite” he begged, wanting nothing more than to finally be claimed, something he doubted would ever happen to him, before today.

The alpha wasted no time in granting his wish, digging his teeth into the flesh right at his scent glands, he could feel his knot swell, close to release himself

Guan Shan’s hips stuttered in their movement as he buried his face in the pillow to muffle his cry as the pleasure became too much to bear, spilling onto the sheets beneath him, “He-He Tian…” Guan Shan gasped trying to get his alpha’s attention but he was too far gone.

He Tian only got a few more thrusts in before he was filling his omega, his knot swollen and secure inside him. He took care not to collapse on his omega, instead rolling them onto their sides so he could hold Guan Shan from behind. running his hand over the omega’s toned chest, feeling the slowing heartbeat underneath.

Guan Shan had the sheets gripped in his fist and was biting his lip anxiously. He Tian frowned, wondering what was worrying him, they were mated now and he had agreed to it, the bite….

“Shit…” It would have been hard for He Tian to get his bite while they were in that position, it will probably hurt more now than if they had done it while they were still fucking, “After the knot goes away you can mark me” he quickly told the omega, feeling guilty that he had forgotten.

“...Won’t it hurt?” Mo Guan Shan mumbled, he wanted to mark He Tian too, actually had to for the mating to be complete.

“Don’t worry about that, you want to claim me too right?”

Mo Guan Shan opted not to answer that question, if he was okay with the pain then the omega wasn’t going to complain now.

The omega struggled to stay awake, his body demanding rest before his heat inevitably peaks again. It didn't help that He Tian’s relaxing scent and body heat were surrounding him.

A few comfortably silent minutes later He Tian was able to remove himself from Guan Shan, slightly startling the omega who was still trying not to fall asleep yet. He Tian moved back a little to let Guan Shan roll onto his back, taking the opportunity to steal a quick kiss.

“Ready?” He Tian was leaning over the omega, his hands on either side of his head.

“Just hurry up so I can go sleep” Guan Shan yawned, blinking sleepily.

The alpha lowered himself, offering his neck to the omega who placed a hand on his shoulder and wrapped the other around the nape his neck.

He Tian winced when he felt Mo Guan Shan bite down, relaxing when he felt his tongue licking up the wound. As soon as he was done he lied back down beside the omega, pulling him onto his chest so the omega’s head was resting right over his heart.

They fell asleep quickly neither feeling the need to exchange anymore words; both feeling satisfied and looking forward to spending the rest of the week together.

#19 days #tianshan #he tian #mo guan shan #fanfic #myfanfic #zhanyi #jian yi #zhan zheng xi

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maxaliyo · 6 years ago

Text

The Boundaries He Crossed Part I

"I gotta head out- See ya Sis. Love ya!" Ameliah Bones called to her older half-sister, Leigh.

Who grunted a half-asleep response from under her pool of blankets covering her head. Rolling her eyes, Ameliah exited the house, muttering under her breath.

"Gee, love you too Ameliah." She answered under her breath for her sister, semi-slamming the door behind her, just to be a cheeky asshole to her sleeping half-sister. The two had lived alone in two conjoined studio apartments, each sister having her own space. Due to family issues Ameliah had moved in two months ago with her half-sister (same mother, different dads.) because their mom was having issues with her newest boyfriend of 3 months. Leigh had welcomed her with open arms, even going as far to buy two conjoined studio apartments; Just so each could decorate how they wanted.

Leigh was a very stereotypical type of girl; She had long legs that came almost perfectly out of shorts when she wore them. (This feature of hers is normally the one that got her catcalled.) Long wavy blonde hair that easily reached her back; And although Leigh was her half-sister, Ameliah could definitely appreciate the fact that Leigh had a very nice figure to her - one most women would be jealous of. For facial features she had high cheekbones, pouted lips usually coated with gloss, arched dirty-blonde brows that allowed her to look fierce with just an arch of her brow. Her eyes were a blue/green mixture that popped even without makeup. A word to define her style?; Trendy.

Ameliah definitely looked like she wasn't related to her half-sister with her bright, straight ginger hair coming to her breasts, which had come from her father. Straight brows with blue eyes; a button nose that many of her friends liked to 'boop', and contrary to her mother and sisters pouted full lips, Ameliah had smaller, and thinner lips tinted a light nude pink. A word to describe Ameliah had to be; A party-girl. Not only did Ameliah wear more revealing clothing than her sister - Ameliah actually made most of her own clothes; Both girls learned to sew very young, Ameliah had just taken more interest in garment-making than her half-sister. Who actually wanted to work a restaurant waitress job rather than make clothes for a living like Ameliah.

It wasn't long before Ameliah arrived to the campus of Harbour Valley; probably the only fully functional high school in the small town of Hythethorn. Which only had around 800 residents in it. Harbour Valley was the oldest - yet newest school around; Some halls had been renovated so much you wouldn't be able to tell it was built in 1926. Others, however, were so fallen apart it made you nervous just to walk under the roof. Which had fallen in (almost hitting students) around 5 already times this year. The entire building was built with bricks, had three floors. All with classrooms lining the hall ways. Two bathrooms were on each floor - one for males and one for females. Then of course we have 'gender-less' bathrooms; but people really only use that to have sex in.

She slid into her first period class, listening to the bell ring just as she sat in her assigned seat; Ameliah glanced around at her new semester course; Canadian History. Seeing new faces, and then ones she recognized. It wasn't until the teacher conducted attendance that she noticed a name she'd heard around the campus recently.

"Ameliah Bones?" The teacher (Mr Fletcher) called out, waiting for her reply.

"Present, sir." Her voice was quickened, as she was currently doodling in her notebook. Fletcher put a check on his sheet under 'present'; continuing to call out names until the very last one, which was the one Ameliah recognized.

"Benjamin Mason?" Mr Fletcher called, awaiting a usual response, he looked up from his sheet when none came. "Mister Benjamin Mason?" He said a little louder this time. At last Benjamin must've heard him, as loud shuffling came from behind Ameliah, in the very corner of the class. Ameliah turned toward the noise, to see a skinny boy, looking to be just bones and skin, sat with his hands awkwardly raised.

"H-here." He whispered, before his bony hand came crashing back to his desk, he slouched in his seat, almost dodging the attention the class was giving him for that few seconds. Class began after that, where we learned all about Canadian celebrities; from Classified and Shania Twain, to Justin Bieber (gross.)

Lunch came as quickly as Ameliah had expected; slowly and dreadfully. When the bell finally gave the go-ahead to eat. Ameliah made her way across the cafeteria to order some of today's 'special' lunch. Meatloaf, that had less flavor than a handful of dirt. Yummy! She was just heading to her usual table when she noticed Benjamin, once again in the very corner of the room, with his back facing everyone in the cafeteria. 'Hmph.' She thought to herself, soon her legs were carrying her closer to this man - one that was rumored to be 'dangerous'. How could someone that skinny have so many bad rumors surrounding them? She didn't say a word until she was behind him; How was she supposed to get his attention? Ameliah had never talked to anyone outside her friend circle, to whom Ameliah looked at from her position. All of them were waving wildly for her to come over there, and away from Benjamin; all of her friends had terrified looks in their eyes. What was so bad about this poor boy sitting all alone?

Finally she gave in to obvious wants; and poked him upon the shoulder. He jumped at first, turning around quickly to see who had touched him, an almost vicious look in his eyes. That malevolence quickly faded when he saw it had been Ameliah, not some bully.

Amelia wasted no time. "May I sit with you?" Her lips curled into a genuine friendly smile, her pupils slipping back to her friends, who were bewildered that she'd even gone within feet of him, let alone touch him and start a conversation. Benjamin hesitated for a moment, looking like he was deciding whether this was some set-up or something. He took a second look at Ameliah, seeming to place her as a genuine person.

"Okay." was all he responded with, but that's all Ameliah needed. She placed herself across from him, back to the brick wall of the cafeteria. "I'm Ameliah, Benjamin, right?" Ameliah recalled his name, attempting conversation. He quietly nodded yes, staring down at his salad.

"Don't like the meatloaf huh? I don't blame you." She attempted again. This time his eyes removed themselves from the salad, to look at her plate, then back to his own. No nodding or anything this time. Figuring he wasn't very talkative; She suffered through her flavorless meatloaf, stuffing her mouth full so she wouldn't bother him any longer.

Soon the bell signaled the end of the 55-minute lunch period. Around 1:15 P.M, Amelia decided it was time to remove herself from Benjamin's table - He obviously wasn't the type who wanted friends. Just as she began to walk by Benjamin however, a strong, bony hand whipped around her arm tightly, grasping her so she couldn't move.

"The fuck?" Ameliah swore, turning to face Benjamin, who was the only one around to grab her. When she did however, they locked eyes. His were... Pleading, like he was asking her without words for something. Finally he spoke; "I-I'm sorry, um.." He loosened his grip upon her forearm. "Please, Stay?" He asked her. It wasn't romantic, or even friendly. It was like he had never been shown kindness, and didn't want it to end. She stuttered for a couple of seconds, confused upon why he'd wanted her to stay. "Why..? I have to get to cl-..." Every student besides them had left the cafeteria to their classes. Leigh would have Amelia's head if she wasn't among them, but the way he looked at her, begging her to stay here for just a bit longer. "Benjamin, my sister kill me if I skip classes." Benjamin's eyes darkened, this was a blackness of color Ameliah had only seen in their mother, after every break up. It was sadness. Ameliah felt so bad; finally she came to a conclusion.

"How about we go somewhere after these two periods? Like a mall, or just to a park?" She offers, offering him a friendly smile. At first he seemed to retracted and shake his head no - then the directions of his shaking change to a yes. "O..Okay." He agrees. Ameliah then took off to her next classes, partly excited about getting him to say yes to an outing.

[ Benjamin's POV ]

"Why had she shown me so much kindness? What's the point?" Benjamin allowed his voice to echo in the empty hallway of the school. Ameliah had just headed to class, but he couldn't bring himself to do the same. He was confused (and slightly suspicious) upon why a deemed 'popular' girl would want to spend her after-school hours, or even her lunch with him, he was basically only a skeleton with skin after all. He let his fingers slide on a jagged edge of the wall, momentarily losing his focus. It wasn't long until the bell snapped him out of his state. Noticing students beginning to pour from their classrooms, excited to head home. He stood from his crouched state, and made his way to Ameliah's last class. He only knew what it was because it was supposed to be his second-to-last period before the end of the day. So he got a glare from the teacher inside the classroom when he stepped inside looking for Ameliah.

"Mister Mason!" The female teacher, who happened to be a friend of his families, was named Jocelyn. He knew this, and thankfully had a bit of power of this teacher thanks to his knowledge of her family drama. (The Mason family loved to gossip aside from Benjamin.) She spoke his name almost as if she was disappointed. "II can't say I'm not disappointed you weren't in class today, especially with this class being your forte." She spoke professionally, never actually breaking that facade; but Benjamin knew that's what it was. A facade. "I like making art, but i'd never show it for the class." He admits to the teacher. Her brows furrow. "Why not?" A genuine question from a curious woman.

"Because then I'd have even more issues than I already do with the police and people around me, no one would appreciate my art, trust me on that, Jocelyn." He responded with a dark edge to his voice, like he was being purposefully vague. His tired eyes removed themselves from her. "Either way, I didn't come to talk about my art, I'm looking for Ameliah Bones." His voice had grown almost impatient, to be quite honest - he hated that he couldn't show his art, but he ignored the anger of having to hide the hidden meetings of the sketches he did.

[ Ameliah's POV ]

She stood outside the cafeteria, having expected him to still be in there, she currently was wondering where he was, or if he had actually gone to class. A few moments later he walked up to her, quietly sighing of relief. "I had gone to you're classroom to find you, sorry to make you wait." He said non-nonchalantly, not really hearing how creepy that sounded. "You went to my classroom? How did you know what one to go to?" His eyes quickly widened and the stuttering began. "Oh- uh-u-um. I have Joce- uh...Miss Waters. For my second-to-last period. I saw you going in there last period before I left." He had almost called her teacher 'Jocelyn'. Which could've been bad; Thankfully Ameliah didn't seem to notice it. "Oh, okay yeah, that makes sense. I'm not accusing you of stalking me or anything, sorry." Ameliah chuckled.

Soon the two were on the way to a park, unknown to Ameliah as she'd never been there before. Apparently there was a hedge maze in this park, according to Benjamin, who had seemed to open up a bit to Ameliah. Especially when she noticed he had brushed his hands with hers, and anytime another person seemed to come close it was like Benjamin moved closer physically to her.

Eventually they made it to this hedge maze, which was taller than the both of them, and seemed to go on for awhile. They entered the maze swiftly and began trying to solve it together. By 7.P.M, The sun had started to set, and darkness began to blanket the maze, along with suitable fog that revoked Ameliah's vision from her eyes, making her have to squint. The two had been split up by a forking path. Now, Ameliah's uncomfortable state had only grown worse. "B-Benjamin? Are you there?" She calls in front of her, feeling out with her hands, only bushes are there whatever way she seemed to turn. Every moment of silence was contradicted by shuffling around her, brushes of leaves hitting each other and causing her to jump. "Benjamin!? Please, I'm scared..." Ameliah admits, feeling completely unguarded. Every noise she turned to see wasn't him - where did he even go? Could he not hear her calling out in the dark for him?

She turned again, still seeing nothing but green bushes around her. Suddenly she felt a tight grip around her waist and neck. It felt like arms, wrapping around her body. One around her hips having her pressed against whoever's body - The other held a slick sheet to her face. A faint smell drifting into her nostrils, it reminded her of her chemistry class. Ameliah's body unwillingly crumbled down, further into the arms of the figure, feeling faint - light as a feather.

'What's happening to me?' A blurry thought the the fading background, the bushes were all colors with no exact shape. Then - darkness. Uneasiness subsides, her tension gave way; Then dreams. No reminders of what had just occurred in reality - just pleasant dreams.

[ Benjamin's POV ]

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terraclae · 7 years ago

Text

Fracture, Part 1

lore pings: @yuushanoah-fr @cityofinoue

Arodan puts the last pieces together, a bit of a long one. All dragons are in bipedal forms as usually.

He was back in a familiar dream. Yet, it didn’t immediately hit Arodan where he was or what he was looking at. The first thing that registered and solidified for him was that he was standing by someone’s bedside. The bed was occupied by two. From that thought it occurred to him he was watching tails intertwine, claws raking trenches in skin, bare skin, entangling further.

It then occurred to him what he was looking at, and that he wasn’t an invisible bystander. One golden and dilated eye turned to look at him, and Arodan’s head split.

He woke up with a harsh and staggering start, bolting upright in his bed. The first thing that registered to him was that he was sweating buckets and that his heart felt as if it was about to come crawling out his throat.

‘Have you ever heard of the concept of privacy?’

The second thing he noticed was Sachairi. The man sat on a crate in a dark corner of the room, fading into the shadows. Arodan swallowed his heart and righted himself. This was an opportunity to speak to him or the Shade in him. ‘That wasn’t exactly a thing I wanted to see either.’ He grunted, rubbing the back of his head. ‘This whole Shade thing is kind of new for me alright?’

‘So you just happen to fall into my personal dreams, seriously?’ Sachairi responded harshly, leaning back with his arms folded. He seemed to flicker lightly. ‘Just because we have one personal conversation doesn’t mean you can walk into my head.’

‘I wasn’t exactly curious about what you dream up about your sweetheart as nice as he might be, thank you.’ Arodan snapped and he could feel his face had grown hot. ‘Instead of getting angry at me for this happening teach me then how to control it.’

‘No. Do I look like I have time for that?’

‘Yes.’

Sachairi huffed and he averted his stare elsewhere. ‘Yeah, you're probably right.’ He sucked in a breath and looked in again, looking visibly agitated by the way his shoulders tensed. ‘... What do you want to know about this whole Shade ordeal?’

‘How do I control-’ Arodan gestured at himself. ‘This? Why can I see what you dream and think?’

‘Fuck if I know.’ Sachairi said. He shrugged and held up his hand to Arodan. ‘I’m guessing it might be your particular talent. That’s what your Shade allows you to do.’ He turned his hand and Arodan swore it was trailing versions of itself behind, afterimages that soon faded. ‘It’s maybe not as dormant as you think. Maybe it needs a specific trigger, maybe it acts on its own.’

‘Dormant this, dormant that, when am I going to get a straight answer?’ Arodan groaned. He buried his head in his hands and found the pressure soothed the upcoming headache. ‘How did you come to this theory?’

‘Kassa’s Shade is merged to their hands and they want to be able to control situations.’ Sachairi held up one finger and raised another. ‘Yours is inside you, possibly stuck to your brain and you’re a snooping bastard so you get mindwalking.’

‘Hey!’

‘Can it, I’m not done speaking yet.’ Sachairi growled. He looked angrier than he felt, and with a sigh he continued. ‘Altair-‘ and the mention of this name visibly shook Arodan. ‘Has advanced Shade as far as I’ve seen. It is tied to his hands, but also in his wings and very well could be in his blood. His Shade manifests as butterflies.’

‘Right.’ Arodan muttered. He searched the room and found there really wasn’t anyone besides Sachairi despite having the distinct feeling there were more people. ‘So what does that make you?’

Sachairi looked pensive momentarily and scowled once he found his answer. ‘I don’t know.’ Sachairi started. He sounded as if two people were speaking at once and Arodan was slightly thrown off by it. ‘Before I came to Paramo, I was like this, before the Shifting Expanse, I told you. Some days are easy. Some aren’t… And something might be wrong with me.’ His form flickered yet again and briefly, Arodan Swore he could see Sachairi’s face shift from confusion, to fear, to neutrality within the span of a second. It had been as if he had shed his skin involuntarily and now someone else spoke who no longer hid in the shadows but looked perfectly ordinary. Dark hair, golden eyes, a scar over his eye and the hint of a burn scar in his neck.

‘Dan, tell me something. Something I meant to ask you.’ Sachairi now spoke in a voice Arodan didn’t recognize at all and yet this didn’t surprise him. Something changed in Sachairi's eyes and he groaned which alarmed Arodan further. ‘Do you ever feel like you are someone you’re not?’ The question has been spoken quietly and remarkably hesitant.

Arodan’s tired eyes momentarily drifted to the floor, then back to Sachairi. He was if not a little freaked out yet it left him as quickly as it came. He scooted to the side and pat the bed besides him. ‘I feel like I’ve been dreaming before I came to Paramo. Like I’ve been stagnant.’ He managed to smile. ‘So tell me more about it.’ Somewhere inside him there was a version of him telling he really should be more worried and yet he detached in the face of something he didn’t quite understand yet.

Sachairi shot Arodan a bewildered look and soon paced over quietly to where Arodan sat. He settled down fairly gently with his hands folded. ‘You know, some days I… I have memories of places I can’t remember having been to, things I don’t remember doing. Some days it doesn’t even feel like this is my own body.’

'What is it you remember?' Arodan asked and it was like he was watching a psychological metamorphosis before his eyes. He understood what the others had meant with that something was off in his character now that he saw it up close. 'Tell me about that.'

'... Sunlight. Long rivers in deserts. I remember being in the fighting pits and then...' He made a small outward movement with his hands. 'Nothing. Until you, to be fair.' He looked up pensively. 'I remember wealth and gold and riches. A woman that resembled me. That was… Home.'

'So, what were you before you were a gladiator?'

His brow furrowed as he thought. The way he did it it almost hid his eyes and they glowed faintly in the dark. ‘I’m not sure. A merchant maybe.’ He looked up and sighed. ‘I remember having to handle a lot of expensive wares and travelling along on a caravan. So it’s likely.’

‘Likely, huh?’ Arodan scanned over Sachairi. He sat with his arms close to him and he met his eye. A befuddled stare scanned over him in similar manner and he felt a little embarrassed by it. ‘Okay. When did you meet Raz?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know?’

That seemed to strike Sachairi and he rubbed the side of his head in an attempt to think of anything. ‘That memory… Wait… Isn’t mine. But we met at some festival. But that wasn’t me who was the one to meet him.’

He definitely was speaking to someone else now, Arodan felt. 'Where were you then?' He wanted to reach out and touch him, get info as quickly as he could. 'Who… Who are you?'

He paused then. Whoever was speaking searched the memory that was his. Before he could speak Arodan dared and whispered. 'Are you… Could it be that you're a Shade manifestation?'

'No.' He shook his head and buried it in his hands. 'I can't be. He has to be.' He looked up, panicked and Arodan watched his expression closely. 'My name is… I think my name is Dmitri, that woman called me that. I was…’

‘Okay, Dmitri.’ Arodan responded. He stopped himself from staring too closely at Dmitri. ‘That’s really what you call yourself?’

‘It’s my name, jerk.’ He snapped and slid away from Arodan. ‘... Dima. Dima is also what people called me once.’

‘I’m not trying to make fun of your name.’ Arodan responded. Dima was an easier name to speak for him. ‘But please forgive me for being wary with you. You have to be honest, this is a little odd.’ Well, this was magnitudes of weird Arodan couldn't quite make sense of but he was getting information.

‘... I guess you’re right.’ He looked at his hand, then Arodan’s. ‘But what am I supposed to do about it?’

‘What you can do is tell me if you pose a threat to the people on this boat.’ Arodan sternly asked. ‘That is what we’re worried about.’

‘No. I won’t. I barely know any of you.’ Dmitri answered without any doubt to his voice. It wavered only a little at the end out of an abject nervousness that seemed to plague him momentarily. ‘Sachairi is loyal to these people, he cares about them, I… I don’t know what that’s like.’

They sat there in silence for a moment then. Arodan has to ponder upon the words being truth because Dmitri could be a very good liar all the same. His hands slowly slid into his bag that sat by his bed and he retrieved his journal, flipping through Mimir’s decorated pages. ‘Is it you that wanted to speak to me?’

‘Yes- What’s that?’ Dmitri shot up and kept an unflinching stare on Mimir. ‘Is that a tome of magic?’

‘What, no, it’s my journal- Look-‘ Arodan took a sharp deep breath that uncomfortably prickled in his chest. He held Mimir out to Dmitri. ‘Look, Sachairi has already read through this thing so probably you have too. My point is, talk to it.’

‘Um… Hello?’ Dmitri held the book on a cautious distance. When golden letters popped up that spelled out a cheerful “hello” he near jumped. ‘That’s witchcraft.’

‘Witchcraft? Have you never seen magic before or something?’ Arodan was a little taken aback and frankly offended by Dmitri calling whatever Mimir was witchcraft. ‘She’s a talking book, nothing scary about that.’

‘She?’ His stare darted between Arodan and Mimir And he took shaky breaths. ‘Okay. Sorry. I’ve seen magic, I just am not used to it being in near proximity or so casually practiced.’ He held up Mimir again, to speak to her instead. ‘What’s your name?’

Mimir! Yours is Dmitri right?

‘Woah.’ He glanced back at Arodan again, then at Mimir with a more relaxed attitude. ‘That’s…. Genuinely cool.’

Thank you!

‘How did you get this?’ Dmitri asked Arodan, turning Mimir around for a bit in his hands. ‘I hadn’t seen sentient books yet.’

‘Bought the journal, her being able to talk was an accident.’ He thought of Altair and he felt as if he was going to start sounding like he was constantly repeating himself. ‘I got blasted with some sort of bad magic and I guess it rubbed off on her.’

'Huh.' Dmitri hummed. His golden eyes narrowed and focused deeply on a dent in Mimir's binding, 'Why does she look waterlogged?'

'Fell into the ocean.'

'I… I see.' Dmitri saw Mimir was waiting for him to ask her something, just by the way gentle little dots appeared on the paper. He was still focused on her cover however. 'You didn't exactly take care of her very well.'

'I tried but I can't be skilled at every little thing like intense bookbinding.' Arodan gestured at himself then at Mimir in awkward and just mildly offended fashion. His tone had grown more sarcastic now. 'What would you suggest then?'

'... Repairing it?' Dmitri turned his head as if he didn't understand Arodan's sentiment. He pored over Mimir yet again and traced a clawed digit along the spine. 'Give me some materials and I could repair it for you.'

'Yeah, sure- Wait, you can do that?' Arodan glanced over Dmitri cautiously. He reminded himself he wasn't talking to Sachairi, but he hadn't thought of a potential shade monster to be particularly well versed in the art of book restoration. 'How-'

'I just need extra leather, thread, and maybe I need to straighten out a few pages.' He turned the book in his hands until Mimir wrote that she wanted Dmitri to stop shaking her already. He then chose to lay her down on his lap instead. 'How would you like that Mimir?'

I don’t think I’d mind. Can Arodan be around though?

‘Yeah, of course!’ He responded and looked up expectantly at Arodan. ‘I mean, if you don’t mind that either. This is your friend right?’

‘... Yeah. Mimir’s my friend.’ He said, a fond note punctuating the word friend. ‘So, you can understand I’d prefer to be present and that you’re careful with her. Can you even be present for that?’

That seemed to hit Dmitri closely in a sense. His eyes fell and his shoulders sank for a moment before he raised them again. ‘I want to try.’ He inhaled sharply yet somehow made no sound. ‘I know that that is something I loved.’

‘Good, that’s… Good.’ Arodan nodded awkwardly and looked over Dmitri once more. Who exactly was this? There had to be a logical explanation for him yet he came to no answer. ‘You really… Don’t mean these people harm?’

'No. Not at all.' He shook his head and looked almost mournful. 'I don't want to cause them grief so I try my best at pretending I'm… Well, their friend. Who they want to see.' He shivered lightly, and quickly pushed Mimir back into Arodan's hands. He stashed her safely back into his bag. 'They suspect me so it really isn't working out for me, isn't it?' He said, managing to awkwardly smile. It looked nice on him, Arodan thought.

'No, not really.' Arodan said. No use dancing around the truth, everybody was on edge ever since he woke up the way he did. They knew this wasn't him. 'They're worried and rightfully scared, so you need to clear it up somehow. If you just go on pretending to be someone you're not it's going to get worse.' Arodan took a deep breath. 'Even if you happen to turn out a shade monster or something along those lines.'

'You have my word.’ Dmitri said, jolting up. He nervously looked off to the side searching for what else to say. ‘I don’t know how to give you a true symbol of it but just know I really don’t know how I got here and who I am.’ He held up His hand. ‘Hell, we can shake on it if that eases your mind.’ Dmitri smiled uncertainly.

Arodan warily eyed the hand, which looked normal by all means. He had half a thought that he was about to be eaten alive by a Shade monster somehow and he blamed it on a lack of sleep and his own mild paranoia. Yet, he reached. 'Fine, we'll shake on it.'

The moment his hand wrapped around Dmitri's it was as if the floor dropped out from under him. He didn't see it, only felt it, how his skin raised and imploded in painlessly. Arodan didn't have time to fear what was happening, he thought he was dying. Then he wasn't. He saw white, endless white, and a child with dark hair and golden eyes briefly ran past him. They disappeared, and he split again into ribbons and for just a moment his thoughts fragmented into a thousand. One fragment saw a woman in gold with dark hair that told him he was going to see the world while another showed him a group of raiders on the horizon. New sets showed him distant figures without love, others a figure with many hands Arodan for just a moment could feel on his skin. Evil beings danced in his mind as equally as forces of good and a life spanned before him. He couldn't possibly scream now and wouldn't know where that sound would begin and where it would end.

Finally once he reassembled and felt all feeling return to his body, he was in an arena. Two men, one tall and imposing, one quick and swift. He was no spectator, he was among them. He was like them. The large man fell and he did not recognize him, but the sensation that then gripped him he knew. Not ordinary, imposing, once trusted. Sachairi.

He saw his body, the body he had borrowed that had fallen as he hovered above it.

And everything made sense.

Everything returned to white and he saw a familiar man. Pink eyes, tall, someone he had met on a doomed ship.

'Finally making use of that ability I gave you?'

That moment, Arodan did scream.

'Dan, please calm down, it's okay!'

He was still in his room, he realized. Not in the white space, not in one thousand pieces, but just on the floor, by his bed, in Atlas' arms. There was no sign of Dmitri.

Had any of that been real?

Atlas was shaking him a little now. 'Dan, please say something, did he hurt you?' He looked desperate and mortified all the same and now that Arodan looked around he could see Carmen was present too. She looked equally frightened by it all. 'What happened?'

Within the span of a few seconds the situation around him confirmed that all had been real. That begged the question then, why did that happen and where did Sachairi or Dmitri go? Who was piloting the body? Slowly his eyes slid around the room and he still didn't find him lurking in a corner somewhere. He finally spoke, rough and out of breath. 'Where did he go?'

'Balam went after him.' Carmen answered. She knelt down besides Arodan and Atlas and reached to gently hold on to Arodan's shoulder. 'Once he gets him we're going to question him, you were in a catatonic state with him holding on to you. Atlas came to check on you and saw it.'

'Yeah, that...' Arodan recollected his thoughts swiftly and scrambled to get out of Atlas' arms and past Carmen, bouncing on one leg as he ran to the door. 'I have to get to him.'

'Wait, Dan, that's unsafe-'

He barely looked behind him as he ran out of the door and gods, he hoped Atlas forgave him for it. He could hear both Carmen and Atlas calling after him and judging by the heavy footsteps the latter figure had started chasing him. He bolted up the stairs and it occurred to him this was familiar, if only for a moment. He didn't have time to humor the thought and raced for the deck before Atlas would stop him. A crash rang through the ship and shook it and Arodan knew what that meant. 'Stop!'

He reached the deck before Atlas did and slammed the hatch to it behind him. It wasn't going to lock but considering the weight it gave him a second or two at the very least. He reeled around, and in the dim light of the moon he could see Balam and Dmitri. Balam had already pinned the man, on of his hands holding Dmitri's arms behind his back, while the other pressed his head to the floor. He looked disoriented and his head bled and Arodan could guess Balam must have jumped onto Dmitri with his full weight. 'Sir-'

'Arodan.' Balam slowly looked up and his face looked haunting in the dim light. His eyes glowed a bright white and on his fingertips ice was slowly spreading, on his skin and Dmitri's. 'Are you alright?' He didn't ask it in any sense that sounded concerned. If anything it sounded like a rhetorical question that didn't have a right answer. Balam was frighteningly angry and he looked ready to explode.

'I'm fine sir.' Well, his head spun and he felt queasy but he could handle that. The developing situation, not so much. 'Sir, I need you to listen to me.'

'I'd prefer that he'd explain himself.'

'That's not going to happen if you hold him down.' Arodan glanced down at Dmitri and he doubted. If he was wrong about this, then nothing might change, they could be in danger, or he would be seen as completely mad. If he was right, then nothing might equally change or it could change perspectives. 'That person isn't your friend… But he isn't your enemy either.' His eyes shot down yet again to Dmitri and he was on the verge of passing out. The hatch behind him flew open and he knew Atlas was right behind him. He must have been pausing to assess the situation. ‘He isn’t here because he wishes to do us harm. He’s just as hurt as any of us.’

‘I know that.’ Balam growled. His hand tightened on Dmitri’s skull subconsciously and loosened once a whimper escaped from the man he seemingly had suppressed. ‘But I don’t want to make a mistake that could endanger us.’

‘I don’t think he is a danger to us.' Arodan quietly continued. He slowly shuffled towards Balam who looked more on edge with the second. 'Balam, that isn't Sachairi.'

'Then who is it?' Balam sharply responded, raising his head. He now looked like he was ready to pounce on Arodan and he could see the tiredness in his eyes. Balam was paranoid and he couldn't stop to think about his paranoia getting the better of him. Arodan knew that achingly well and he wished he knew what to do to soothe his thoughts. 'Answer me.'

'The man you're pinning is called Dmitri.' His eye darted towards Dmitri once more and he could see he looked up at him fearfully, like a man whose life was in his hands. Slowly, Dmitri mouthed something at him and Arodan hardened himself for what he was about to say. 'That man isn’t the friend you know… Because Sachairi is dead, and had never been alive in the time you knew him.’

The moment Arodan spoke and saw Dmitri’s expression changed to that of an angrier soul, he knew that he could very well be next.

#my lore #fr #ch: Arodan #ch: Sachairi #ch: Dmitri #ch: atlas #ch: Carmen #ch: Balam #a new face sorta enters the stage #ch: Mimir

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