#But Shadow sounded like a brat in it which is not easy to misunderstand the character on that level :

[cj-sparkss]

Hello hello!! Can I request a small scenario in which reader and Jean are dating and during training she overhears him talking with the boys about how much he likes Mikasa (he was refering to her moves in the 3dmanuvergear) and the reader just straight up tells him "If you like her so much you can date her" and before he can explains Levi call them to continue training and Jean cant clear the misunderstanding until later. Some angst with fluf at the end

i’m all yours -

jean’s masterlist

a/n | I very slightly changed the story line, but it stays true to what you wanted. I hope you enjoy! warnings | none category | fluff/angst wc | 2.7k+  pairing | jean kirstein & reader

You and Jean have been dating for three months. It was everything you could ever ask for, and more. He was caring, kind, passionate, considerate, funny, cocky too, but that only added to his amazing personality.

You loved jean with all your heart, and you never doubted that he loved you as much as you loved him, maybe even more.

At least you never did, until today.

"Come on. Wake up. We're gonna be late to breakfast and be left with the crappy leftovers."

You open one of your eyes to see Mikasa standing in front of you, aggressively shaking your shoulders and calling your name.

You groan and mumble out, "Five more minutes." while turning over. In response she shakes your shoulders even more aggressively.

"Fine, fine. I'm getting up." You sit up with a huff and attempt to run your hands through your messy bed hair.

"Good. Put on your gear too. We have training right after breakfast today."

"Okayy. Thank you for waking me up Mikasa."

"Your welcome. Hurry up."

And with that she turns around and silently shuts the door behind her.

After you've gotten ready, you walk down the hall. As you're about to enter the dining hall, you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist, and a head on your shoulder. Your nose catches a whiff of sandalwood, and you immediately recognize your boyfriend, Jean. You turn your head to give him a kiss on his cheek, and his cheeks erupt in a soft pink. You find it cute that you both still get nervous around each other even after three months of dating.

"Good morning Jean."

"Good morning. Come on. Let's go eat." Jean cocks his head towards the dining hall, he grabs your hand, softly intertwining his fingers with yours to lead you to your usual table in the back.

Sasha and Connie are sitting on one side, Marco on the other. There are two spaces to the right of him left vacant for you and Jean. You sit on the right closest to the wall, Jean in the middle of you and Marco. Your food trays are already there, waiting to be eaten.

"Good morning guys."

"Good morning love birds."

Before you even fully sit down in your seat, Sasha moves her hands to your tray.

"Can I please, please, please have your bread roll?"

Sasha looks up at you with gleaming eyes and a pout on her face. Everyone else would fall for the nice act, but you are used to Sasha's tricks. It only took you two months of getting your food stolen to realize.

As she's about to take your bread, Jean swats her hand away and gives her a glare shooting daggers into her eyes.

"Stop stealing her food. She needs to eat and you're gonna get fat."

"Owwww. You're gonna pay for that Jean-boy."

Jean scoffs and turns to you, stuffing your mouth with the bread roll before placing a kiss on your forehead.

Connie turns to Sasha and makes a vomiting face.

"Ewww. Get a room guys, nasty."

"Oh shut up Connie. You're just jealous that I get to kiss my girlfriend and that you don't have the balls to ask Sasha out and kiss her instead."

The table goes silent in shock for a few seconds, then you and the others burst out in laughter, Sasha and Connie's faces as red as a tomato looking everywhere but at each other.

After the laughter died down, you all sat there eating your food, making small talk and random jokes with everyone once in a while. The breakfast today was a roll of bread, a piece of bacon, and a bowl of soggy bean soup.

Could be worse.

After breakfast, you and the others flocked out on the field in front of Captain Levi.

"Good morning brats. Today we are going to start off with sparring. Grab a partner and get going."

You ended up being partners with Marco, and Jean with Mikasa. You didn't think anything of it, they have been partners countless of times, but Jean used to have the biggest crush on Mikasa, one that everyone knew about, including her. You were wary about it at first, but once you guys started talking, it faded away you suppose, and you weren't jealous or anything now. That was at least until you saw Mikasa pressed up against Jean's body, struggling to get out of his grasp. What are they doing?

"Hello? Are you paying attention?" Your gaze is snapped back to Marco, him questionably staring at you while in a fighting stance.

"Oh, sorry. I got distracted." You move into a fighting stance, one hand in front of your face, the other below in front of your chest. “Shall we begin?"

Marco nods his head in response.

You guys both lunge at each other, fists out about to blow. You are about to deal an uppercut to Marco when Jean's laughter catches your attention, causing you to shift your head to where it was coming from to see Jean on the floor and Mikasa standing over him.

Marco uses you being distracted to his advantage and deals a punch right in the middle of your stomach, causing you to grab your stomach and double over in pain.

"Oh my god. Are you okay? Did I go over-board?"

You look up and see Marco standing in front of you, casting a shadow over you.

"No, no I'm okay." Your voice barely comes out as a wheeze.

"No you're not. Come on. Let's get you to the infirmary. CONNIE!"

Connie comes running over, giving you a concerning look.

"Connie, can you tell Captain Levi that she got badly injured during sparring, and that I'm taking her to the infirmary?"

"Of course. Feel better. Go easy."

"Thanks Connie."

Once you’re settled in the infirmary, you hear knocking on the door.

"Come in!"

Jean walks in, holding one of your favorite flowers in his hand. He walks over to where you’re laying on a bed, and sits besides you.

"How are you feeling kid?"

"Pretty bad. Who knew Marco could pack that hard of a punch? Though I was distracted."

"By what?"

You quickly realize what you had said, and you mentally curse at yourself.

"Oh nothing. Just heard a bird."

"Mhm. You should get some sleep. I have to go do something, but I'll be back soon. Okay?"

You nod your head. Jean kisses you on the cheek, and walks out the door. Soon enough, you are sleeping peacefully on the bed.

When you wake up, it's almost dark outside, and you realize you must have been knocked out for quite a while. You stand up and walk outside the infirmary. You hear voices down the hall, and you creep down quietly, making sure not to make any notice. As you near the source of the voices, you hear a familiar voice speaking. You hide behind the corner of the wall separating you and them.

"You should've seen Mikasa. She was amazing. Her style was perfect, nothing was going wrong, honestly she is one of the best of the best."

You would recognize that voice anywhere. Jean? What was he doing talking about Mikasa like that?

You peer into the distance, and make out three figures. One is obviously Jean, the other you make out to be Reiner and then there's a shorter guy, but you can't see who it is.

"I bet you liked training with her huhhh. Oooooh Jeannnnn." Reiner nudges his shoulder, making kissing sounds and faces at Jean.

"Oh shutup Reiner. But it was an experience. I'm glad I got to spend some time with Mikasa today. It's been a while since I've laughed with her, and frankly I've missed it."

You can't help the tears starting to flow down your face. Why was Jean talking about her like that? He missed her? You thought he was over her. You thought he wanted to be with you now. Why was this happening? Your sniffles start to become more audible, and Jean looks over to the wall where you are and his face goes pale. He starts to run over to you a moment after.

You try to go the opposite way before he can get to you, but with your recent injuries you aren't able to.

Jean grabs your wrist and in one swift motion turns you around. "What were you doing. Why are you crying?" He reaches his hand to your face, but you slap his hand away.

"Why are you talking about Mikasa like that? What do you mean you missed her? And why were you all pressed into her during training? Tell me!"

Jean gives you a shocked expression, and hesitates a moment before answering you.

"Wait. Please let me explain."

"No you don't need to explain anything. I understand now.”

Your emotions start to take the better of you and you speak without thinking of your next choice of words.

"If you like her so much you can just date her instead. Save us both the trouble."

Jean's jaw drops in shock at your sentence, still trying to process what just happened before Connie appears behind him.

"Jean! Captain Levi wants us back. Hurry or your going to be on stable duty he said!"

Jean turns around to glare at the boy but lets his grip on your wrist loosen. You use this chance to slip your way out the back door. When Jean turns around and realizes that your hand has slipped out, you are already gone.

You go outside, tears falling down your face not even close to stopping, and you slump down against a tree, bringing your knees up to your chest and burying your head in your arms. You begin to cry and cry. How could you have not known Jean was still focused on Mikasa? How could you have been so blind all this time? You felt so stupid.

After wallowing in your own self pity for what seems like an hour, you hear leaves rustling and branches cracking besides you. You look up to your right revealing Jean looking down at you, eyebrows furrowed trying to figure out what to say.

You slowly stand up and turn so you're looking up at him. You silently stare at his features, admiring how attractive he looked. You get lost in his amber eyes, noting how the moonlight made them stand out even in the dark. You look at how his two toned hair is shining in the light, making it look soft and luscious, how his locks laid neatly on his head, the wind blowing it ever so slightly. You used everything in you to fight the urge to reach your hand out to tangle your fingers in his hair, just to hug him and to forget everything that went down earlier.

"What do you want Jean. I heard every thing that happened, you don't need to explain anything. I understand that I'm not the person you want to be with." As you say this, tears start to pool in your eyes, but you blink them back. You will not let yourself cry over him again. "Why don't you do the both of us a favor and jus-"

"I love you."

Jean interrupts you mid sentence, surprising you with his choice of words. Did you hear that correctly? Did he just say I love you?

He pays attention to your face, studying your reaction to what he had just said. You don't even realize you have left your mouth agape, your face holding a shocked expression.

"W- What?"

"I love you. Hell, I am pretty sure I have loved you since the first time I laid my eyes on you." He runs his hands through his hair, messing it up slightly thinking of his next words carefully.

"Since the first time I saw you eating at the dining hall, I - I was taken aback by your beauty. I was a stuttering mess around you at first, I could barely even form functioning sentences around you. Even today I get all shy whenever you touch me in the slightest way. It wasn't just your beauty I fell for, but your personality. The way a room lit up whenever you walked in, the way your smile could make anyone that was sad happy in only a matter of seconds. The way your laughter is contagious and would make anyone join in on laughing with you. You are everything I could ask for and more. I am in love you.”

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Your expression stayed the same. Did Jean really mean everything he was saying? Was he really that in love with you?

"B- But then why were you talking about Mikasa like that? Saying she was amazing and super talented. I haven't seen you talking about her like that since you were crushing on her like crazy. I always knew you loved her before me, and I accepted that, but I thought it was all over. I thought you were done with that. I don't want to be your second choice. I don't want to be the girl you just settled for since you couldn't have her. Please don't do that to me." Once again, tears start to pool in your eyes. You looked down in confusion. Why was he saying all this? Was he just leading you on to make Mikasa jealous all this time? Why? Your tears were starting to stream down your face, but you couldn't stop them from falling this time.

"Look at me. Please." Jean stepped closer to you, putting his finger under your chin and gently brought your face up to look at his. He reached his hand up and wiped away some of your tears with the back of his hand.

"I was just talking about her combat skills. That's all. Nothing more. The truth is, I was never really in love with Mikasa. I was only in love with the idea of her. As soon as I saw you, she hasn't even come across my mind romantically like you had. You consumed my thoughts, day and night. I couldn't think about anything else besides you, and I still can't. You were never my second choice. I never just settled for you, I chose you. And I will choose you a thousand more times again, over and over. I love you. I want to be with you. Not with her. I'm all yours."

You look at him in awe. He loves you. You let your emotions get the better of you. Uncontrollable tears are still streaming down your face, blurring your vision. You close the distance between the two of you, and you wrap your arms around his body, pushing your head into his chest. Jean tenses at first, but then returns the gesture, one arm around your waist, the other arm holding your head, running his fingers through your hair. You breathe in his scent, letting yourself become vulnerable in his arms. He doesn't even care about the tear stains and snot you're leaving on his shirt.

"I'm sorry for making you cry. Forgive me? Please."

"It's okay. I forgive you Jean. I'm sorry for being jealous and lashing out." You feel your knees start to give out, and you collapse in Jean's arms, Jean tightening his grip around your waist to prevent you from falling, both of you slowly sinking to the ground in unison.

"Jean?"

"Mhm?"

You move your head back enough to look into his amber eyes, Jean tilting his head in a curious manner. "I love you too." You can see his cheeks burn red, and he looks away to the side attempting, but failing to hide his blush.

"Promise me this is forever. That no more stupid fights like this will happen anymore." You press your head back into his chest, holding onto him even tighter.

"I promise."

After all that crying, your eyes start to feel heavier, and your breathing slows, until you fall asleep protected in Jean's arms, him holding you for the rest of the night.

#jean x reader #jean #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein x reader #attack on titan #aot #jean attack on titan #jean aot #jean fluff #eren x reader #jean kirstein x reader

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

Reliving An Old Nightmare - Chapter 14

<= Chapter 13

Summary : Snatcher has a meaningful conversation with his ex-fiancee. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/22337299/chapters/57711178

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NEW CHAPTER, YOOOOO !!! Didn't see it coming, DID YOU ??? WELL HERE IT IS !! Sorry for the long wait, I hope you'll like it ! At least, I had the time to work on plenty of next chapters (I finished writing the 18th chapter today, YEAAH). That way, you won't have to wait so much for the next chapters, as most of them are already written.

ALSO, this chapter has FOUR DRAWINGS ! FOUR !!!!!! The first one is one I commissioned from my very good friend Puck ! SHE'S AN AMAZING ARTIST !! A big thanks for Krekka, for the correction !

Happy reading !

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Chapter 14

Snatcher found it extremely hard to find the courage to leave his room. After the doctor left, the ghost knew very well that he was expected on the ground floor. The very thought of having to deal with Vanessa and her accomplice when they fought the same day… it made him rightfully nervous. Furthermore, he had no idea what was waiting for him. If Vanessa was still angry at him (and she probably was), then there were chances that she would punish him in whatever way she could. Even though “Simeon” was apparently against it, for a reason he didn’t know yet, Snatcher couldn’t help but be wary. In his position, being prepared for anything was the best he could do. Maybe it was a trap. Who knew?

As the shade went down the stairs slowly, he remembered what happened in the bathroom. God, it had been terrifying. Snatcher wasn’t afraid of many things, but stuck in this fleshy body, that was a different story. For a moment, he had thought he was going to die, that the Time Rift was collapsing with him inside. Granted, it didn’t last long, and things seemed to have gotten back to normal. However, there was one thing that Snatcher couldn’t get out of his mind: his shadow, or, at least, what it had looked like.

It had looked like his spectral form. Why?

The question remained unanswered as he arrived on the ground floor, bracing up for whatever was going to happen. Maybe it would just be a simple dinner! Maybe he was just expecting the worst!

…who was he kidding? He knew Vanessa too well to try to reassure himself like this. There was no way his ex hadn’t prepared something in retaliation for his earlier outburst. She really was resentful. She was still mad at him for something he didn’t even do, even centuries later! Thus, he wasn’t really relaxed. How could he, when she had an even bigger reason to punish him?

The ghost soon arrived in front of the closed kitchen door. Vanessa was probably waiting for him there. Delicious smells seemed to pass through the door, one of them feeling more familiar than the others. Snatcher felt his mouth water at the thought of eating, but he knew better. While smells were enjoyable, and while his body did need to eat, chewing food was not a pleasant experience to the spirit. The tastes and the textures always felt weird on his tongue, and managing to swallow bits of food was often difficult. Then there was the whole digestion process, which felt absolutely disgusting to him. Humans were so gross. Feeling things moving inside of him, hearing weird gurgling sounds coming from his own body… this was definitely something he wouldn’t miss.

Snatcher forced his mind to focus on the current situation and took a deep breath. He had to do this. This was his last chance to convince her; if it didn’t work, he was still going to search for the Time Piece at night in the manor. He was determined to get out of there, whether his ex liked it or not. That’s when he managed to push the door open, revealing the kitchen, plunged into darkness. Well, it wasn’t completely pitch black. On the dinner table, a few candles were lit up, enlightening their surroundings. The dining table was covered with a white tablecloth. On top of it, two place settings were put out, each on opposite ends of the table. Between them, there were a few cloches, probably keeping the food hot. White and pink flower petals were scattered around on the surface, while a flower vase was in the middle of the table, containing a bouquet of the same flowers, apparently. As soon as the ghost’s eyes fixed upon them, he found them familiar.

And finally, at one end of the table was Vanessa, waiting for him. She was wearing a beautiful red and black dress, and she was smiling brightly at him, something which made Snatcher even more uneasy than what he already was.

-“Oh, there you are, my dear!” said the Queen as she pointed to the opposite seat. “Why don’t you sit down?”

She was clearly acting as nothing had ever happened between them. Her smile was obviously fake and there was this whole… staging. What was she trying to create, a romantic setting? What a joke! The ghost frowned at the thought, trying his best to remain as stoic as he could. He wanted nothing more than just turn around and go back to his room. What was the point of all this other than making him terribly uncomfortable? Though, when he saw Vanessa’s smile waver at his hesitation, he understood quite well that she wasn’t simply asking him to sit down. It was an order.

With extreme reluctance, the shade moved to the opposite end of the table and took a seat. The Queen’s smile widened at his compliance. It made him sick.

Snatcher pointed to the table, already annoyed with Vanessa’s attitude.

-“What’s all this?” he asked, glaring at her.

The woman ignored his hostility, resting her head on her joined hands, smiling mischievously.

-“What do you mean?” she retorted, faking ignorance. Oh, this was just making Snatcher angrier. Great. So that was the game she wanted to play? Pushing his patience until he lost It? He didn’t have his powers anymore, though the urge to retaliate physically was becoming stronger and stronger. Of course, he knew better. In this state, he had zero chance against her. Unfortunately.

-“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Vanessa,” countered the spirit, pronouncing her name as if it was poison on his lips. Well, it wasn’t that far from the truth, considering how much she poisoned his entire life and afterlife combined. Apparently, she disliked his tone, and her malicious expression wavered for a brief moment. If she wanted to play that game, Snatcher would as well. And oh, he was good at playing that kind of game. There was a pause, both of them looking at each other defiantly. Snatcher thought he was doing quite a good job at being intimidating, yet he had a moment of weakness when his ex snickered.

-“Oh, you’re so cute when you’re angry,” Vanessa teased.

-“What?”

The comment made Snatcher shudder with disgust and surprise. He could feel his whole body tensing up, confusion replacing most of his emotions. What did she just say? His disarray was soon intensified as Vanessa started laughing louder, covering her mouth, eyes shut.

-“You should have seen your face!”

The ghost remained shocked for a moment, not knowing how to react. Did she just… laugh at him? He frowned as his annoyance quickly came back full force. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, trying his best to stay calm despite her attempts to peeve him. The spirit was stronger than that. He had to deal with a brat for days! A child who had managed to hurt him when he was supposed to be invincible!

Vanessa was more dangerous, yes, but she was certainly less annoying than a certain hat-wearing kid he knew quite well.

The ghost took a long breath. He could do this. He would just have to ignore her until the diner was over. How hard could it be? And, once he would return to his room, he would just have to wait for the night to come to start looking for the Time Piece. It was easy! Or, at least, that was what he was thinking until he lifted up the closest cloche in front of him, revealing the food hidden inside. As soon as he did so, the familiar scent he had smelled earlier hit him suddenly, much stronger than before. Right in front of him was a plate full of bacon slices, cooked just how he loved it.

The spirit’s first reflex was to look at Vanessa, afraid of her reaction to it. Did one of the servants make a mistake again? Was it even possible to forget Vanessa’s outburst about it when it only had been one day? However, when the ghost couldn’t see any fury in the Queen’s eye, he couldn’t help but become confused once again. His eyes went from hers to the plate successively, as if he was demanding explanations silently. From her smug expression, he deduced that it couldn’t have been a mistake. She was the one who asked for this particular dish. But why, when she absolutely loathed it so much that she had even banished it from the entire manor? It didn’t make sense to the ghost.

And, as his mind was trying to think of any possible and logical justification for this, Vanessa’s smile widened as she clarified her intentions:

-“I thought that after our… disagreement, I would bury the hatchet,” she offered, sighing as she stared at him a bit too much to Snatcher’s taste. She sighed happily and finally looked away, her smile slowly disappearing. “I’m sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean to shout at you.”

Snatcher froze the instant he heard her words. Vanessa, the immature and resentful Queen who had not hesitated to murder an entire village for a stupid misunderstanding, had just apologized to him? This couldn’t be possible. She had just yelled at him an hour ago about her not having done anything wrong! And now she was apologizing... for shouting at him? The ghost knew he wanted her to have regrets and remorses, but… it didn’t feel right. He had wanted her to realize what she had done in the past, stop acting like everything she had ever done was the right thing to do. Of course, it certainly didn’t mean he would forgive her with just apologies, but it was still something he wanted. For closure, perhaps? To feel better about what happened to Subcon? To make her pay? Probably a mix of all those things.

Now? Something was wrong and the spirit just knew it. The romantic setting? His favourite dish? Vanessa being nice to him? And especially apologizing? It was all so perfect and… fake. As a liar himself, Snatcher knew very well when he was lied to. This, right there, was the perfect example of a poisonous and dangerous lie.

The ghost frowned at the realization and glared at her. She was lying to him; she didn’t feel a single remorse for anything, whether it was about Subcon Village or what happened earlier. She was just pretending to. Her face was showing a fake sadness and the spirit knew her too well to fall in that trap. When Vanessa used to be sad about something, her lips trembled, she couldn’t bear to look at him and she had trouble to breathe calmly. But now… her lips were just sealed close, unmoving, and she was throwing glances at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. As for her breathing, it was just the same as before.

Snatcher knew it. He felt his anger growing stronger and stronger in consequence. How dare she? Was she only doing that because she had been told to? Did Simeon demand her to apologize to him? What was she even trying to do with this awful setting around them? Snatcher didn’t understand, yet he did know that Vanessa usually never did anything without a reason.

-“You don’t mean it,” muttered the ghost with a low voice. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do right now, but don’t ever lie to me about you regretting something. You never did.”

Vanessa’s fake sadness disappeared as soon as the words left his lips. Annoyance appeared on her features as if a mask had been taken off her face. She visibly wasn’t pleased about the current events and shifted her posture to reflect her irritation. Crossing her arms onto her chest, she sighed loudly.

-“I’m trying to be nice, this is what I’m doing,” she explained, frustrated. “I’m doing my best to be the better person to put the past behind us, but you’re not helping me.”

Snatcher couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This couldn’t be possible. No one could be that stupid or that entitled of themselves! But here she was, still talking about how she was the more mature of them!

-“I’m sorry?” retorted the shade, offended by her words. “You, the better person? Are you sure about that?” His tone was becoming louder and louder as his hatred for his ex was coming from him.

Vanessa remained silent, glaring at him. The temperature of the room was dropping while the Queen was breathing slowly, probably in order to control herself. She never changed and surely wouldn’t even in thousands of years.

The shade sneered, eventually laughing loudly, but it wasn’t completely sincere. He didn’t want to laugh because what was funny about all that? Yet, he couldn’t help it, completely ignoring the way his ex was looking at him. After what seemed like hours to him, he managed to stop, disregarding Vanessa’s exasperation simply because he didn’t care anymore.

There was absolutely no way he would be able to convince her. He had planned to mention the weird glitches in reality, the way he had sort of taken back his old form for a brief moment, but what was the point? She wouldn’t hear any of it and, even worse, it would come to “Simeon”’s ears. The immature Queen was stuck in an unreal world, not wanting to realize that she had been in denial all this time. The last thing Snatcher wanted was to ruin his chances to get out of here.

If Vanessa wanted to stay there and die with the dimension, that was her problem, not his. At least, it would take care of his problem of pest in Subcon Forest back to the present.

After making sure of sliding his chair noisily on the ground, the ghost stood up. He had much better things to do than whatever this farce was.

His action seemed to surprise Vanessa, as she straightened up, looking at him menacingly.

-“Where are you going?” she questioned before demanding with a more authoritative tone. “Sit back down this instant!”

Snatcher simply ignored her again, going towards the door. His body would have still liked to eat, but at the time, it wasn’t important to the spirit anymore. However, as he was about to reach the doorknob, he heard several things break behind him. He would have ignored it, if it wasn’t for the little voice telling him to turn around, just in case. He reluctantly obeyed his instincts, not without rolling his eyes in the process.

He wasn’t really surprised to see Vanessa, standing up next to the table, surrounded by cutlery and food on the floor. Apparently, she had been so furious and had thrown everything onto the floor. He gave her an unimpressed look, as he waited for whatever she wanted to tell him, crossing his arms. She probably didn’t react this way if it wasn’t to catch his attention back.

-“Why are you like this?” was came out of her mouth eventually, her voice weaker than before. The question took Snatcher aback, though he did his best not to show it.

-“You mean, reacting as I should in front of my murderer? Good question, let me think!” he retorted sarcastically.

-“Stop it! That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” His ex sat back on her chair, looking elsewhere. Somehow, her lips were trembling, and the spirit guessed that finally, he was able to see genuine sadness on her face. Too bad he didn’t care about her anymore and hadn’t been for a long time.

Silence fell between the two. The Queen rubbed her eyes while Snatcher leaned against the door, wanting nothing more than leave. However, he couldn’t deny that he felt a bit curious; if she really was sad, then maybe he could manipulate her into telling him things he needed to know. Emotions made people act without thinking, and now was the perfect opportunity to try that with her. At least, she wasn’t trying to freeze him to death at the moment, so he had his chance.

-“Why are we here, Vanessa?” He guessed that being direct was his best shot, considering how “Simeon” tended to interrupt their conversations each time he was about to learn something new. He kept going, with a nicer tone, hoping he could exploit her current weakness with it. “You can’t reproach me from being mean when I don’t even know why or how I’m here in the first place.”

Well, he knew the “how”, but he wasn’t going to reveal his means of getting out of this doomed dimension. He wasn’t that stupid.

His ex seemed to hesitate, as if she was debating with herself. She was surely trying to come up with the pros and cons of confessing whatever she was hiding from him. Now was his chance to tip the scales in favour of his situation.

-“Something is wrong with this dimension, and I know you’re aware of it. I have no idea how you managed to… recreate everything from scratch, and, look it’s impressive, but we can’t stay here. If we do, we’re going to die, Vanessa.” He paused and added, “Permanently.”

He did know how this dimension came to be, but he wasn’t supposed to know that she wasn’t the one who created it, neither that “Simeon” was her accomplice. He had to be careful with his choice of words.

-“It… it is real, Alistel,” she murmured, though Snatcher could tell she was unsure of her own words. She grabbed a fork on the ground and showed it to him, as it if was proving anything. “Look, I’m touching it! It’s… it’s here, in my hand, I can feel it!”

The shade tried not to wince when she called him by his old name, faking an expression of compassion instead. He needed her to understand. No matter how much he hated her, how much he wanted her to pay for what she had done to Subcon and all its inhabitants, it was better to have Vanessa on his side against an enemy he knew nothing about.

-“I know you don’t want to believe me, but, please, just once, trust me.”

“It would make a nice change for once…” he thought to himself, as he watched her resolve crumple little by little while she listened to him and to what he was insinuating. Her fists were clenching her dress strongly, her body shaking from the emotion. Tears were coming to her blue eyes. This was it. This was the moment he was waiting for.

-“I know your heart is in the right place,” he said, offering his hand to her right after. “Please help me get us out of here, Vanessa.”

He waited for her to accept his plan, to stand up and take his hand, telling him where was the Time Piece and especially who was the one impersonating Simeon. But she didn’t. All she did was sniff, wiping her tears with the back of her hands. When her eyes fixed upon him once again, they weren’t full of hope or sadness like Snatcher hoped. They were full of rage.

-“You just want to leave me again, don’t you?” she accused with a dark tone. Snatcher couldn’t help but grow pale when he realized that things were turning completely different than what he had expected. This was bad, he had to fix it before it turned worse!

-“No!” he replied, though it was a complete lie; leaving without his so-called soulmate, he absolutely didn’t mind doing so. But of course, saying that would be suicidal.

-“Liar!” screamed Vanessa, while the temperature dropped once again. Ice started to spread around her from her feet, engulfing whatever it met. “You’re lying so I can help you leave me once again!”

Well, she had completely seen right through him. He opened his mouth again, wanting to justify himself, try to defend his plan even if it was already too late, but she cut him short by another yell, louder than the first one:

-“Get out! Get out!” she shouted, putting her head into her hands as sobs could be heard through them. “I don’t want to see you anymore, get out of here!”

Her last sentence broke as she started to cry even more.

Snatcher stayed still a few seconds, staring at her. He didn’t feel guilty, not after everything that had happened. He hated her too much to feel anything positive about her, even if hundreds of years had passed since then. Seeing her crying should make him happy; however, it wasn’t the right time.

Snatcher had a Time Piece to find. If she couldn’t help him, then… she might die all alone and painfully, and he wouldn't even care the slightest. She deserved that. That was what he thought, as he finally grabbed the door handle, opening the door without saying anything.

This was a farewell then.

“Good,” thought Snatcher darkly as he left the room, listening to her cries like a pleasant melody he would remember for a long time, until he couldn’t hear them anymore, too far away.

The way back to his room was silent. He bumped into a few servants on the way to his room, ignoring them when they bowed to him. None of this was real. Why should he bother playing Vanessa’s game when he was so close to being saved?

He got back to his room quite fast, even if he couldn’t help but be paranoïd all the way. After his argument with Vanessa, he had all the reasons to believe something bad was going to happen to him. But nothing did, which was a bit too suspect for Snatcher’s taste. When he opened the door, he tried to be extremely careful, just in case “someone” was hidden in his bedroom. But, once again, nothing unusual.

This was too calm.

The ghost made a few steps inside and closed the door behind him. He sighed. Well, all he had to do now was to wait a few hours and leave his room to start the search for the time artefact. But, before he was even able to sit on the bed, the spirit heard something from behind him:

Click!

Someone had locked the door, trapping him inside the room.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

WELP. I'M GOOD WITH CLIFFHANGERS, AREN'T I ? Don't worry, you won't have to wait too long!

I hope you liked this chapter ! Thank you for your patience and all your support, it means so much to me !

See you on the next chapter and stay safe !

=> Chapter 15

#A Hat In Time #ahit #snatcher #vanessa #Reliving An Old Nightmare #RAON #my art #lazy #commission by lazy #AMAZING DRAWING AGAIN #fanfiction

[enchanted-prose]

#5 The Vaults (Part 1)

Hey howdy hey! Publishing a little fic for the fun of it, please be sure to check the notes!

Word count: 4,325

Characters: Roden, Dawn, The Faola (Original Characters), Ayvar (Original Character), Brat, Roach, and Beetle (Original Characters)

Notes: Reader discretion is advised, as this story deals with a darker side of Drylliad. Several important places and people make an appearance in this story, so if you’re looking for something that adds more plot to this ficlet series, this one is for you!

Enjoy! 

It was late. It was raining.

Two ingredients for a delightfully uneventful evening.

Roden hung his cloak on the wooden pegs by the Dragon's Keep's front door. He did his best to shake the water from his hair without getting water everywhere.

For some reason, the empty tavern made his skin crawl with anxiety.

Usually it was teeming with people making poor choices.

"Hello Dawn!" Roden said with a grin as he took a seat at the wooden countertop.

Dawn, a large woman who served in the Avenian War and the owner of the Dragon's Keep, waved, "Captain! Can't imagine why you're awake at this ungodly hour. Is there anything, or anyone, you want from here?"

Her teasing chuckle made Roden wonder what she was talking about.

Did it have to do with that night he'd drank too much and supposedly threw a man out of a window?

"I'd love a cheese bun, maybe something warm," he plastered a grin on his face. "Long night ahead, it's my turn to patrol the Vaults."

"Ah, the Vaults, I'll be sure to get you anything you need."

"Is, ah, is Merry here?"

A tiny glimmer of hope seeped through Roden's cold hands. It would be nice to see a friend before marching through the Vaults.

Marching directly into Drylliad's most crime ridden sector.

"She went to bed several hours ago, love," Dawn turned to the large wall of kegs. "But I'll tell her you asked-"

"No, no, please don't. It's alright, I, ah, I just wanted to talk to somebody before. . . Y'know. . ."

"Before heading to the Vaults?"

"Yes." It wasn't in Roden to admit that the Vaults made him nervous.

He'd seen frightening things before. He'd fought with seemingly endless waves of soldiers. Held his own against notorious pirates.

But it was easy to block out those people and fulfill a task.

It was another thing to look true evil in the face.

To look true evil in the face and sometimes fail at saving everyone he could.

The Vaults were originally built by one of Carthya's queens in an attempt to give more room to businesses and places to live. Originally, the Vaults were simply called the Queen's Close, and

were made up of several tight alleyways, rooms, and labyrinthine passages.

And they were all underground.

It didn't take very long for the Vaults to fill with the plague, and they were closed to public use.

Despite the danger and sickness, people continued to seek shelter there if they couldn't live anywhere else.

Many people didn't let the threat of death stop them from seeking shelter from a storm.

Roden knew that there'd be more people than usual hiding in the Vaults.

He only hoped that the cold kept criminals hidden in the shadows.

"You'll be alright, Captain, I have full faith in you," Dawn said, setting a steaming hot mug in front of him. She rummaged below the wooden counter, "And there's something I need to give to you."

"Dawn, you shouldn't have," Roden cracked a smile as he sipped at his drink.

Oh! Cider!

Dawn held up a coin attached to a leather string, "This is for you, from a friend. This friend claims it'll keep you safe, though I'm not sure from what. It's kind of small."

"Which friend?"

"You'll have to find out for yourself. Take your cheese bun, love, and the coin. Be safe tonight.”

Roden cracked a grin, and reached for Dawn’s hand over the counter. He pressed a kiss to her calloused fingers, “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“Come back any time,” Dawn chuckled. “And don’t get into trouble!”

Her words rang in his head as he stepped out into the rain, cloak on his shoulders and the coin tied to his belt.

Don’t get into trouble!

Roden didn’t actively seek trouble-

Actually, yes, he did actively seek out trouble. He sought out trouble and he liked to punch it in the face.

Although sometimes trouble punched him right back.

Roden patted his mare's neck as they  quietly left the warm, safe light pouring out of the Dragon's Keep. The rain that had been lightly drizzling before was now falling much harder. Heavy rain meant a heavy population of people in the Vaults.

Maybe he should've forced somebody to come patrol with him.

No, he didn't have the heart to drag his fellow soldiers from a good night's rest. Besides, he'd taken care of the Vaults on his own before, he was strong enough to do it again.

There wasn't a single person in sight on the streets of Drylliad.

Everybody was either tucked into a warm sleeping space or hiding out of the rain.

It didn't take long before Roden's cloak was completely soaked.

Saints, he hated cloaks. They only ever got in the way.

Several entrances to the Vaults could be found in lower Drylliad, the entrypoints near the castle were sealed up several generations ago. And good thing too, as it wasn't uncommon for the plague to claim victims deep within the undergound labyrinth. . .

Once the streets had been cleared, Roden knew it was time to venture into the Vaults. He tied up his mare within the safety of an inn's stable, rubbed the new coin hanging near his sword, and sludged through the rain.

The first time he'd been in the Vaults was something he'd never forget.

People covered in sores were reaching to him and the six other guards. Children were huddled in corners, having frozen to death in the night. Scalps hung drying from wooden rafters.

As much as the Carthyan guard tried, people always made their way into the Vaults.

They had no place to go.

Hand on his short longsword, Roden squared his shoulders. The rain was falling in heavy blankets now. It almost hid the narrow, pitch black alleyway leading down into the Vaults. The Saints only knew what was awaiting him down there this time around.

He'd brought a lamp with him, tucked under his arm to keep out of the rain. Thank goodness for that.

Stepping into the alleyway, Roden kept his eyes glued to the dark, just in case anybody was thinking about jumping out at him. He lit a match, and dropped it into the lantern's glass shell.

Dull yellow light illuminated the dark alley. Roden held it high above his head, careful to keep it out of harm's way. He scanned the alley as his eyes adjusted to the sudden surge of lantern light.

Nobody was lurking in that front alley.

And who could blame them? Water was practically streaming across the floor. You'd catch your death long before any thieves got around to stealing your scalp right off of your head.

Pushing onwards, Roden set his hand on his sword hilt, taking in every detail that he could.

This entrance was completely cleared.

Another pitch black entrance waited to be patrolled. Roden knew this area well, there were stairs leading into a large room. There was a second entrance there, a large arching tunnel that led out to the lowest portion of Drylliad. Adjacent to this open tunnel was a series of stairs going in different directions.

Sometimes it seemed like those stairs were leading straight down to the hellish Devils' lair.

But Roden knew better. He'd seen the Vaults with both lantern light and spotted daylight pouring in through holes in the ceiling.

He'd faced off with the demons lurking in the Vaults before.

Though it would be a lie to say he wasn't a little nervous.

No matter how hard he tried to be quiet, the sounds of his footsteps echoed through the large room.

And he saw his first person.

"You there," Roden kept his voice even, yet stern. It was something he picked up from Mott. "State your business!"

The person, who'd been disguised as a lump thanks to a massive black cloak, said nothing.

As a precaution, Roden pulled his blade free. He took a step forwards, and repeated his demand.

And still, the lump of a person said nothing.

Dread began to pool in Roden's stomach. He wasn't sure what he'd do if the person was suffering from the plague, only wanting to die away from the eyes of strangers, or if the lumpy mass was a terrified child.

"State. Your. Business."

"Rot. In. Hell!" Roared the figured, bursting into life.

Instantly, Roden recognized his attacker.

True, it had been a few weeks since their first encounter, but Roden couldn't forget the snarling voice that belonged to a short bandit hellbent on attacking Lord Feall, a friend to Carthya's royal court.

Swinging the lamp to safety, Roden held his sword out, prepared to meet the Faola's blade. This one fought with a saber, or at least that's what he remembered. But this time, the Faola was fighting with a short longsword, just like Roden.

This type of fight was easy.

Roden lunged to attack, fully prepared for when the Faola caught and parried his blow.

He was stronger than the Faola attacking him. All he had to do was push hard enough and-

The Faola fighting him dropped the sword, and ducked to avoid the rebound from Roden's blade.

From darkness, a second Faola had appeared, wielding another short longsword and a dagger.

Roden took several steps back, sizing up this second opponent, but no attack came.

The second Faola kicked the first one's rump, and gestured first to the third stairway, and then to Roden, sweeping their hands around their middle.

"Attacking-," Roden began, but the second Faola looked him dead in the face, and spoke.

"It was a misunderstanding," the second Faola said, their voice rough and deep.

"No, it wasn't," insisted Roden, his blade held out. He didn't trust either of them.

The Faola whispered between themselves for several seconds.

Their argument seemed to be coming to an end once the first Faola stood up, and held their fists up, preparing to attack Roden. The second Faola held up his sword.

Great.

Inhaling deeply, Roden sank into a fighting stance, ready to launch himself at the two bandits.

A plan flashed before his eyes. He'd get rid of the unarmed one first by delivering a swift blow to the head with the butt of his sword, that way, he could attack the second armed Faola without any distract-

With a mighty grunt, the second Faola shoved the first towards Roden, sprinting down the third stairwell just as the unarmed Faola tumbled to the ground near Roden's feet.

He, ah, he wasn't expecting that.

As quickly as he could, Roden held the point to the Faola's face, "Take off the hood and mask."

"Please, don't make me do this," the Faola begged, clasping their hands behind their head. "You wouldn't-"

"Take off the mask," ordered Roden.

"Please! My reputation-!"

"You should've thought of your reputation before you turned to a life of banditry."

The Faola scoffed, "Banditry. Your friend, the ambassador's husband, the regent. He knows what we do, you fool."

Never a good idea to call somebody a fool if they have a sword pointed directly at your throat.

"Take off the mask, or I'll be peeling it off of my sword in a few seconds," he said. "One."

"Captain Harlowe! What we do isn't a bad-!"

"Two."

"We only take from-! Devils have you!" The Faola cried, throwing off his hood.

A shock of long, scarlet hair tumbled down the Faola's back. When the mask came off, Roden was only slightly surprised to see a pretty pair of earth green eyes and a slim nose.

The Faola he'd nearly slaughtered those weeks ago was, in fact, a young woman.

Her voice still carried the rasp from before, "You're not going to kill me, are you?"

Roden would've chuckled if he wasn't standing in the Vaults. He kept his sword in hand, "You're playing a dangerous game."

"And you've got your hands full."

"I can still run you through."

That shut the Faola up.

"What's your name?" Roden asked. He was weighing his options in  his mind. Tobias's claims about the Faola depicted them as citizens acting outside of the law to help others. . . But Roden knew enough about gangs of bandits.

Everybody was acting for their own interest.

He suspected that the Faola were simply gaining popularity with the public so they'd get away with larger crimes all due to the fact that they would be loved by the working man.

"Ayvar," said the red haired girl, her voice not at all matching her face. "Please sir, please let me go."

"Get up," Roden growled, his sword trained on Ayvar's throat. "Hands behind your back."

It was odd, the fact that Ayvar was doing what she was told. She crossed her wrists, and held her head up high. Roden sheathed his sword. Typically, when facing off with somebody in the Vaults, there weren't any moral questions. He'd disarm the criminals, leave them unconscious, and tie their hands together until reinforcements could come to arrest them.

There were three soldiers stationed at the city walls, all Roden needed to do was march Ayvar out of the tunnel, wave his lantern, and she'd be handled.

A thought crossed his mind.

The price for banditry and murder was high.

No rock solid evidence existed that proved Ayvar's guilt or innocence.

"Tell me what your business was here," Roden ordered. "And be honest. It'll save both of us a lot of hardship."

The sound of dripping water filled the large room. Ayvar was refusing to speak.

Or maybe she was trying to think of a lie.

"Have you thought of an elaborate, misguiding-," began Roden.

There was courage in Ayvar's deep voice, "I only come because one of my own asked me to."

"That's not a good enough reason. Ayvar, in the name of the king, you are placed under arrest."

She didn't put up a fight as Roden took her by the arm, walked out to the tunnel, and waved the lantern over his head.

He bound her hands together, and left her sitting in the dark tunnel.

There was still work to be done in the lower Vaults.

There was still another Faola running rampant in the dark.

Casting one last glance at Ayvar, Roden descended down the third stairwell, hoping he'd see the second Faola.

Each of the three stairways down had recognizable features. Two of them were harmless, they consisted of thriving mushrooms or green mold.

That wasn't the case for this third pathway down.

Dark, asymmetrical streaks decorated the right wall of the stairway. Matching splatters lined the left. Crackling stains were spread across the floor.

This tunnel had a special name: The Murdering Path.

Death was always waiting at the end of this stairway in one form or another.

Sometimes it was a bloodbath.

Sometimes it was a group of diseased corpses.

And sometimes it was a little girl reaching for her dropped doll as she waited for her parents to come save her.

The last image remained on Roden's mind more than he wanted to admit. It haunted his dreams. Reminded him that no matter how hard he tried, there were always people who slipped through the cracks and went unseen until death came for them.

The little girl and her dropped doll kept him trying to look for those who often went underfoot.

Roden steeled himself against what he couldn't see at the base of the Murdering Path. He pressed his back to the wall, drew his sword, and stepped into the second room.

Lantern light swathed the dark area, catching on fallen tables and lost toys. He stepped further into the room, searching for any more people disguised as uninteresting lumps of fabric. Light reflected back at him.

A tiny pool of blood.

Trouble was brewing.

He stood frozen in a defensive stance, listening for any sounds that went against the drumming of the rain and the constant drip of ruined water.

Shuffling.

Timid shuffling.

Roden tiptoed around the edges of the room, trying to locate where the sound came from. There were several more stairways leading deeper still, as well as several other hallways opening up into other rooms.

It took two more turns around the room before he was able to locate the sound of the shuffling, which actually turned out to be sniffling.

Experience taught him to recognize the cloak.

The black fabric barely held together by a few strings and a handful of dark patches belonged to the second Faola.

If the second Faola was hoping to surprise him, he'd be in for a surprise.

There was a slight hissing as a drop of rain splattered onto the lantern's glass casing. The patchwork lump stopped sniffling. Roden gingerly stepped towards it. A tiny sneeze rocked the lump, followed by the tiny sound of tiny hands hitting a tiny face.

"State your business," Roden lowered his sword only slightly, skeptical of a surprise attack. "This is Captain Harlowe, you will not be harmed if you comply."

A set of child fingers peeked out from the top of the patchwork cloak. There was a series of hissing, whispering, and more smacking.

"State your business," he repeated.

No sound came from the cloak.

Somebody coughed behind him.

The second Faola stood with a dagger extended, his cloak missing.

“You used the same trick twice to trap me,” Roden noted, setting the lantern on the ground a few inches from the discarded cloak

The Faola grunted, a discordant sound, “I did no such thing. My colleague was on the lookout for me. She mistook you for somebody else.”

“You were going to stab me in the back.”

“Quite the opposite, actually, I was going to have you stab somebody else-”

“I doubt that.”

“- in the back while that monstrosity was tucked away.” The second Faola gestured to the cloaked lump, lowered his dagger, and held up his hand in surrender. “I told them not to move until you or me came back.”

Roden would have to berate himself for trusting the wrong people later if the Faola left him for dead. He tilted his head to the lump, “What’s hiding under there?”

“A trio of demonic children, we were going to smuggle them out,” the Faola shrugged. “I have nothing to hide, Captain. Keep your heads down, runts”

A tiny child’s hand was barely visible below the hem of the Faola’s cloak. It vanished the second the Faola snapped his order.

“Why?”

It was a simple question.

The Faola shrugged, “Because I like to eat children for breakfast.”

“You’re making jokes in an area known for atrocities similar to what you just described,” Roden pointed out.

“Then I suppose I’ll start making jokes about my dietary habits any day now. Think they’ll- I’m joking, I swear it. You have two choices now. Kill me and get those kids to safety, but let the scum who brought them here roam the Vaults-”

“Or take the children to safety and leave you to remain with villains you probably get along with.”

“I was going to suggest that you help me catch them, actually,” the Faola pressed his hands to his chest. “My heart would break if I had one.”

Once again, Roden was looking at the cloak, it was much easier to make out the tiny shapes of three children trying their best to stay still. He stared at the Faola, once again weighing his options.

Well, actions did speak louder than words.

“We can’t just leave them here,” Roden gestured to the hidden trio. “What if they’re stolen away?”

“Then we’ll-,” the Faola obviously hadn’t thought of that. He balled his hands into fists, “They’ll be fine.”

“What if-”

“We can’t afford to think in what ifs, people like you and I, sir knight.”

“You can’t gamble with an innocent’s life.”

“Then stay here. Listen for screaming, probably curses too, everyone hates me here,” the Faola said as he stepped forward. He patted Roden’s cheek, rubbed his eyes, and slipped back into the shadows.

Unfortunately, the encounter wasn’t the strangest one he’d had with a criminal.

Roden shrugged out of his thick cloak, and settled it on top of the now squirming children, “It’s alright, you don’t need to be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” sniffled one of the children, fiercely pulling aside both cloaks. “I want to go home!”

“Where is your home?” Roden asked, kneeling beside the trio.

Two girls, one boy.

“I don’t- I, ah, it’s by the pigs,” said the first child as she pushed her dirty pale curls from her eyes.

“I don’t have a home,” said the second girl, throwing her arms around Roden. “You smell good.”

“Thank you.”

“I would very much like to have. . .”

Roden did his best to nod his head at the right times as the second little girl struggled to find the word she wanted. If he balanced the three children, he’d be able to take them back up Murder Path and into safety.

They’d be held at the gatehouse for a week to see if any parents came for them. After that, Imogen would assist in helping them find a place to live.

The Faola’s words creeped across his neck.

Let the scum who brought them here roam free. . .

“Tell me your names,” Roden interrupted the second girl, who still hadn’t figured out what she wanted to say.

The tiny girl with white curls poked out her chin, “I’m Brat!”

“My name- my name is Roach,” said the second girl, a smile spreading across her face. “Will you get me a -”

“They call me Beetle,” murmured the little boy.

Roden did his best to remain quiet and patient as he used his cloak as a makeshift pack to carry Brat on his back.

With Beetle on his right hip, and Roach on his left with the lantern in her hand, Roden crept back up Murder Path.

Anxiety trickled through his bones.

Every drip could’ve masked a footstep.

Halfway up Murder Path, Brat sneezed into Roden’s ear.

He froze.

When the coast was clear, he resumed the nerve wracking trek up to that main room.

The Devils must’ve been in a good mood- the large room was empty. Roden stepped out of the dark tunnel, or at least as far as he could while still avoiding the rain. His heart pounded against his ribs as Roach proudly waved the lantern.

Any second now. . .

Any second now, and those three sentinels would be there to take the trio to safety.

Faint shouts and curses snaked their way up the Murder Path. The Faola must’ve found trouble.

Hurry up!

Brat had to have heard the fighting. She buried her snotty face into Roden’s neck, humming as loud and as tuneless as she could.

It was wrong to leave the Faola to fight a large group of thugs.

But Roden refused to leave the trio of children waiting all alone for help.

By the time the three guards arrived and had taken a child in their arms, Roden was certain it was too late. Roach insisted on pressing sloppy kisses all over his face, while Brat blew her nose into his tunic one last time.

He hardly had time to answer any questions the guards had before he was bolting down Murder Path, the lantern swinging all over the place.

What was he thinking? Dashing after a masked bandit?

Roden couldn’t argue for or against assisting the Faola as he tried his best to avoid dark puddles that looked a little too much like hardening blood. The sounds from before were growing quieter and quieter.

The odds were stacked too high against the Faola.

They were both idiots. The Faola by walking off into the Vaults alone, and Roden for following.

Turn after turn, room after room, Roden searched for any sign of a skirmish. Any evidence that there had been a fight in the first place.

His lantern was beginning to flicker.

Saints, what was he going to do without it?

Wait-

What was he going to do without it?

A million reasons why he should turn around and walk away raced through his head. Roden quietly ignored them all as he backtracked out of the room he was in, and set the lantern out in the covered hall. It wouldn’t be long before the lantern flickered.

He held up his fists. Drawing a sword in the dark would only spell trouble, but he still wanted to be ready to throw blows if somebody decided to surprise him the second the lantern’s flame went out.

Soon, Roden was in total darkness.

Irrational fear seeped through his iron will.

He could die down here, all alone. And what if he did? Nobody would find him, except for the hungry rats and hungry pe-

No. The Faola was right.

People like the two of them couldn’t think about what ifs.

Roden held perfectly still as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the Vaults.

He’d wrongly assumed that there wasn’t any light down there.

Faint streaks of yellow light tried their best to penetrate the room, and several streaks managed to do so.

Using these faint patches of light, Roden inched his way into the darkness, listening for any sound of another human being.

There was a pattern to walking deeper into the Vaults.

First, Roden did his best to see if there were any puddles, as those were asking for noise. He then inched his way forward, brushing his foot side to side as he did so. The simple, two-step pattern continued for what seemed like ages.

One day, he’d have to ask Jaron how to get through a room completely undetected.

The streaks of light were growing more and more frequent. Roden swore they were leading to a room with at least a little bit of-

Light.

#roden #ocs #fic friday except its a wednesday #fic friday #spoooooky #spooky underground tunnels of crime #the ascendance series #the ascendance trilogy #the false prince #the runaway king #the shadow throne #the captive kingdom #ascendance series #ascendance trilogy