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shortkingzuko · 3 years

Text

title: loves’ cold embrace

relationship: hama/kanna

mentions of canon typical violence

summary: She misses the chill of the tundra, the crashing of the ocean and the shattering screams of icebergs colliding. She misses the soft embrace of caribou fur and leather in her parka and the softer embrace of the woman she was stolen from. She misses the howling winds that used to sing her to sleep as they passed over the great iced plains, and the gentle voices of her family as they laughed and needled each other. The ocean that used to live in her chest is now a desert, barren and dry. -- OR;Like the moon in the sky, Hama's love never really leaves her.

this is the fic i wrote for @avatar-rarepair-exchange-2021 :~)

read it on ao3 (and get the rest of my tags and notes) or read it under the cut !!

Hama doesn’t think too much about her childhood. It makes her feel too mournful, too angry, too beholden to feelings that, at her age, her heart can’t afford to feel. What few memories that do creep into her consciousness are so wrapped in nostalgia and childhood innocence that Hama can’t even recall if they’re real or fabrications of what she wishes she lived. Certainly, she had caught fish with her family, but were the nets ever as lively as she remembers? Was her girlhood parka truly that soft and was that wind actually so forgiving against her cheeks? Hama doesn’t dwell on it, simply letting the fuzzy memories tumble in her head, comforting, warm, forgotten and ignored.

There are two memories, two days, which consistently force their way to the forefront of her mind, drawing her attention and draining her energy. One, of course, is the day she was taken from her hold, stolen, like an amputation performed without so much as a strip of leather to go between her teeth. And in contrast to the searing pain of that one, the other is much kinder. Softer, warmer, more friendly in its own way.

At the age of fifteen Hama was proud and kind and bored, days of choring and practicing and schooling all blending together into barely distinguishable slush, finally broken by the announcement that a girl on a boat with a blue sail was approaching. Almost half the village rushed to see the newcomer, and Hama pushed her way to the front of the crowd, only a few heads behind the chief and other warriors, just in time to see the girl pulling her boat up the icy shore.

Her face was sharp and her lips chapped from weeks uncountable at sea. Her clothing was familiar but strange, the patterns and beading not quite right, the shade of the leather just a bit off, but almost recognizable. Her boat was wrecked but its pieces would be salvageable for other things, and the chief softly told her that her trip was a one-way one. Hama could never forget the fierceness that laid behind the girl’s eyes, the determination in her voice as she said, “I know.”

She brought news of the location of Fire Nation ships, bags of leathers and dyes and scrolls that had been unseen in the South for decades, and perseverance that seems to infect everyone with whom she spoke. Her name was Kanna, she was from the Northern Water Tribe, and, to Hama’s delight, she was here to stay.

In the weeks that followed Kanna’s arrival, Hama can barely separate herself from the older girl. Everything about Kanna was just so interesting - the stories of her travels, the few morsels that she would share of her life in the Northern Tribe, her laugh, the way she styled her hair, the different ways that she tried to fish - everything about her made Hama want to cling to her and never let go, like the barnacle at the haul of a ship. To her delight, Kanna didn’t seem to mind. Anytime Hama called to her from across the village square, Kanna would always wait, smile back at her, unmoving until Hama caught up and they could both continue on their day.

She doesn’t recall when they shared their first kiss, or who first pressed their lips against the other. All she remembers is the warmth of her cheeks after it happened, how her lips tinged, and how excited she was when it happened again. Was the tone playful? Was it shy? Was Hama pretending to be cooler, more mature than she actually felt? (Hama knows, almost for certain, that the latter is correct.)

Hama knew that she was beautiful, knew that she was smart and impressive and that many other teenagers would fall over themselves to try and keep her attention, and yet it was Kanna’s sly smile and gentle gaze which made Hama feel weak in the knees and made her feel like the ocean lived inside her chest. They shared soft kisses, giggling in-between the press of their lips. They slipped each other’s hands into the sleeves of the other’s parka, embraced each other tightly and often when they were supposed to be working. Kanna’s hands were strong - as evident by her ability to haul even the most lively nets out of frigid water and by her tendency to make the string on bows just a bit too taut - and yet she only ever cupped Hama’s face with the utmost care, running a calloused thumb over Hama’s lips, and only ever playfully tugging on her ears to get her to hurry up. The gentleness itself was not uncommon - Hama remained beloved by her family, her friends, and her waterbending teachers, even with the exciting arrival of the Northerner - but when it came from Kanna it felt more special than Hama cared to admit.

It was a sweet, simple existence, one that Hama was tricked into believing could exist forever. Black snow may fall, fish populations may dwindle, and one by one, Hama’s teachers and family may disappear, but surely she would be next to Kanna forever.

Of course, that was a belief that Hama soon realized to be false.

The Fire Nation prison was a pain like nothing Hama had experienced before. Beyond the chains that dig into her skin, and the sharp sting of hands and batons against her flesh, and the endless jeers and insults that the scum that keep her confined throw at her, there is an ache, one that dulls with time but never leaves. The distance from the ocean, from her ocean, pulls at her heart and at her core, begging her to return, seemingly uncaring that if she could, she would. For the first months and years, the moon seems to taunt her through the skylight, staring down at her, unhelpful and cruel in her judgment.

The only pain worse than unbecoming, the twisting and dimming of self, is the reformation that follows it. The destruction of all Hama once knew about herself, the bending and breaking of who she was and its eventual obscuration. In a way, it’s freeing. In a way, it feels like damnation.

Hama thinks back to the girl who grew up in the South Pole and the girl who sat and rotted in a cell. She feels like a distant friend, a playmate she outgrew but loved dearly. The line which connects herself to that woman of the past is tenuous, well-worn, threadbare, yet still intact. She picks up the mantle that that girl left behind and carries it with her, ignoring the aches and pains that the weight of it gives her. When Hama escapes the prison, she’s so parched she can’t even cry as she mourns for herself.

She escapes, but she cannot leave. She has neither a ship to sail nor the sea legs that she once did. When the moon dips below the horizon it takes her strength with it and she is back to her weakened state. Even if she could get a boat, Hama wouldn’t be fit to waterbend home for many months, maybe years, and she knows that without it she will surely die at sea. The thought is almost tempting.

Being away from her home fills her with many emotions. Fear, shame, confusion, anger, longing. She misses the chill of the tundra, the crashing of the ocean and the shattering screams of icebergs colliding. She misses the soft embrace of caribou fur and leather in her parka and the softer embrace of the woman she was stolen from. She misses the howling winds that used to sing her to sleep as they passed over the great iced plains, and the gentle voices of her family as they laughed and needled each other. The ocean that used to live in her chest is now a desert, barren and dry.

The Fire Nation itself is as much a prison as the cell she escaped from, but as Hama decorates the house she built with trinkets and blankets and as many splashes of blue as she thinks she can afford. She convinces herself that it’ll have to do for now. She gains some of her strength back, bids her time as she forces a smile to the citizens who would hang her by the neck if they knew what she truly was. She gains their trust, even delivers a few babies that will grow up to slaughter the innocent. It’s not a home, not peace, the life she carves out for herself, but it’s enough to survive on.

Hama focuses on her anger, letting it simmer in her chest, flowing through her like the tides, waxing and waning with the moon. She has neither nation nor family in the destructive land that she lives in, has neither home nor comfort nor love to soothe the piercing ache in her chest and soul. All her joys are temporary, fleeting, ending when she feels the urge to turn to her mother or siblings or Kanna and has to accept, once again, that they are not next to her. Hama holds onto her anger like a beggar grips a silver coin, edges cutting into her palms and dirt getting into her wounds. She holds onto her anger because she knows without it all she has left is the stillness of the ocean after a storm.

Even the half-life Hama carves out for herself doesn’t last forever. The little waterbending master shows up, with a face so similar to her dear Kanna’s, and beats her at her own game. There is a whispering pride to any master that is bested by a student, but mostly Hama is tired. Burned out and smouldering. The Fire Nation takes her away in chains once again, and Hama disgusts herself with how quickly she resigns to her fate.

Guards spend little time with Hama, and she’s kept at a distance from the windows. Still, the stone tomb that they keep her in echoes, and soon she hears whispers of the war ending, the prospect of future peace out on the horizon. Hama doesn’t know how to feel, knowing that the world may enter a time of peace and that she is still locked away like an animal. Perhaps the Southern Water Tribe will be able to flourish again. Perhaps a small part of her spirit can finally rest.

She figures that whatever the future holds, she will not be privy to it. The Fire Nation was all too happy to lock her up and throw away the key, and Hama doubts anyone back home remembers her enough to ask after her - even so, anyone she knew who is still alive probably thinks she’s dead.

And yet, she gets a visitor, soon after the guards have whispered about a boy taking the throne. The visitor walks to her cell without fear, looks at her through the bars with sadness, not disgust. His eyes are familiar, and Hama knows that he is from the Southern Water Tribe before he announces it. She doesn’t dare call what ignites in her chest hope, even when he tells her that he’s chief. Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe. It echoes in her head, like the dripping of a tap that hasn’t been turned off.

He comes back more than once, all within a few days of each other. Each time with sadness and respect in his eyes, telling Hama about the political ongoings of the world, of their home, of Hakoda’s family. Apparently, the little waterbending master that sent Hama to her new cell is Hakoda’s daughter, a fact he tells her embarrassedly, asking for forgiveness.

Hama shrugs. It’s too hard to be angry without hope to do anything with it.

“Will you continue to visit?” Hama asks, instead of answering. “I hear that negotiations are coming to a close.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Oh, you know. At the market.” Hakoda cracks a smile at her attempt at a joke.

“That’s actually what I was meaning to tell you,” He says, shifting on the stool that he sits on. Hama raises a thin eyebrow. “Part of the negotiations are about you.”

“...Oh,” Hama says.

“It’s… tricky,” Hakoda continues, either oblivious to or ignoring Hama’s silence. “The Fire Lord, Zuko, uh, is worried about what some of his new ministers will say if he allows your release, and it’s complicating-”

“Release?” Hama questions, furrowing her brows.

“What? Of course, release. We’re trying to get all the surviving Water Tribe prisoners back. Your case is just a little more… controversial, so it’s taken some time to sort everything out.”

Hama almost laughs. “And, supposing it takes much longer?”

Hakoda looks ashamed as he says, “If it takes much longer to sort out, then I will have to return home with the prisoners that have already been released, but I’m not abandoning you here. We have to leave delegates here to deal with other reparations, and we’ll make sure that you coming home is always a priority.”

Hama doesn’t know what to say to that. The prospect of returning home after so long, it excites her, fills her heart with a flurry of anxious joy that can’t be tamped down, regardless of her attempts to remain practical.

“Unless… you don’t want to come home?”

“Of course I do,” Hama snaps, despite her best efforts. “Of course I do… I want nothing more.”

Hakoda smiles, tiredly, and Hama feels her age when she looks at him and sees a young man who is worked down to his bone. “As long as you do, I’ll keep fighting for you.”

Hama smiles, and in the heat of her cell, she feels the comforting breeze of home. “Please, Chief Hakoda, tell me about Kanna’s beading again.”

The chill of the Water Tribe greets her like an old friend, long before she can see the land. It nibbles at her old joints, makes her nose and ears pink with delight, and Hama puts off slipping the donated parka over her head for as long as possible, relishing in the welcoming sting of the wind. The anorak isn’t hers, of course, and the fit is a little off, but Hakoda tells her that his mother - her Kanna - can help her sew a new one, and as soon as everything is settled the hunters will go out to hunt.

Hama spends as much time on the deck of the ship as she can, knowing that she’s certainly getting in the way of all the warriors and deckhands who are too polite or pitying to ask her to move. She doesn’t want to miss the first sign of land, the first sign of home in countless moons.

It feels like her heart is being returned to her chest when she spots the first mountain peak, the first thin trail of smoke from a friendly hearth, and then the first gleam of packed ice forming familiar igloos. When they finally reach the shore and, amongst the crowd of faces peering at her with admiration, confusion, sadness, anger, and joy, she spots the unmistakable face of Kanna, it feels like her heartbeat has finally been returned.

It’s a strange shock, to see the face that she thought of so often so different from last she saw it. Everything about her is different; her hair, her skin, her clothing, even her height has changed as a consequence of her more hunched form, and yet she is still the most beautiful woman that Hama has ever laid her sights on.

Hama has so little hope, she refuses to waste it on the implausible notion of returning to Kanna. It is clear that Kanna has lived a full life without her, she has a son who is chief, two lovely (if annoying and persistently optimistic) grandchildren, and the respect of the entire village. The girl in Hama’s memories is not the woman wrapping her arms around her, not the woman pulling Hama into her chest and crying into her shoulder, not the woman whispering thanks to the spirits as she exclaims how much she’s missed Hama.

Being back in Kanna’s arms feels the same as it did to see the glistening mountains from the sea. It feels like coming home. Kanna leads her back to her home, grasping her arm the entire time, and tells her that they’ll start building Hama her own house soon, but in the meantime, she is welcome to stay with Kanna’s family.

“I believe your granddaughter will object to that,” Hama says. Kanna nods.

“Yes, she will,” Kanna replies, the love in her voice unmistakable. “If her remarks get too snide, let me know and I’ll make her wash the dishes for a month.”

Hama is right- Katara displeased with Hama’s presence in their home, as is Sokka. But Kanna’s firm gaze and Chief Hakoda’s unsubtle attempts to pull them off to the side for conversations keep the children’s tone from getting too snippy and makes them bite their tongues most days. The anger and fear are mostly gone from their gazes and it is the memory of the last encounter in the Fire Nation that fuels their emotions. Sometimes when Hama wakes suddenly in the night, and patters out from Kanna’s bedroom trying to calm her heart rate, she’ll see Katara or Sokka, hunched by the fire. In those moments, they share a quiet moment of understanding, a moment of recognition, of being souls who are hurt and have hurt more than their bodies ever wanted, and the children seem extra conflicted when the day finally comes.

Hama doesn’t fault them for it. She’s a little pleased that they’ve latched onto the relief that comes with vengeance, how right it feels to dwell on past anger. Kanna scolds her when Hama explains her philosophy to her, says that it’s no good to dwell on the unchangeable past instead of the influenceable future.

“What good is looking towards tomorrow if you don’t remember the injustices of yesterday?” Hama asks, stretching out her hands that are stiff from sewing. The fabric of the Fire Nation was so thin and delicate - almost uselessly so - and it’s difficult to transition back to sewing the thick materials of the south.

Kanna hums as she considers Hama’s question. This is a new development, to Hama at least. The Kanna of her memories was quick as a whip, her words always at the tip of her tongue, ready to fly out as soon as anyone else had stopped talking. This Kanna, in contrast, tends to consider what has been said before speaking. She mulls things over before replying, taking her time to come up with important answers.

“There’s a difference between remembering and dwelling,” is what Kanna opts for. “You don’t need to keep the fire in your chest burning any longer.”

Kanna sets down her needle and reaches out to grasp Hama’s hand. Her grip is firm and Hama knows that it is full of love.

“You have me to warm you now.” And while that doesn’t erase the years of turmoil that Hama has lived, while it doesn’t uncloud her sight with cynicism, in this one regard, Kanna is right.

They’re both worn and weary, Hama knows, in different ways. Gone is the softness that used to surround them, the air of innocence that falsely clung to them, as it does to all children in a war, the optimistic spark in their eyes that betrayed the facade of realism that they tried to put up. They’re both old now, more cynical (Neither of them really trust the child that now sits on the Fire Nation throne, regardless of what Kanna’s son and grandchildren say), and there are so few worlds left for them to venture together. Sometimes, Hama wonders what could Kanna possibly think to achieve, with her gentle touches and kisses filled with light.

Still, Kanna walks with her, arm in arm, as they go through the village. Kanna sits with her in bed in the mornings as they wait for a pot of water to boil for their breakfast. They weave blankets and stitch clothing together, and each time Kanna makes sure to scoot her chair over so that they’re pressed close to one another.

Hama isn’t foolish enough to think that she and Kanna were fated, but she does concede that perhaps Kanna has always been it for her. The distant glow of the horizon, the glint way off in the future beckoning her closer, the sparkle of possibility, maybe it’s always just been Kanna.

Kanna’s lips are no longer plush and smooth; they’ve become wrinkled and thinner with age, but they’re no less soft, and they hold no less love than they did over fifty years ago. When they press against Hama’s own lips, they press with as much care and joy as they did when both of them were more youthful, and Kanna still sneaks kisses to Hama’s cheeks at the moment before they leave their home to go outside. As if Hama would ever try to stop her if she knew they were coming.

The tenderness, the softness, with which Kanna holds her is enough that sometimes Hama can fool herself into imagining that they’ve had a long life together. That they’ve never been apart since that day that Kanna dragged her boat up the shore and filled Hama’s heart with light.

Hama has lived an entire life away from her beating heart, an era where her love was not by her side. She holds no false illusions - Kanna has also lived a life without Hama. One that was full of love and tragedy and life and death. She has a beautiful and headstrong family to prove it, has the respect of the whole tribe and enough wit to make sure that everyone knows it. Kanna got the chance to share her love with others, while Hama spent years half-wondering what could have been, wondering if their love could have lasted, wondering if she truly loved the beautiful girl from the North or just loved the idea of being in love with her. An entire lifetime of wonder and worry and pain, only to be soothed by Kanna’s unspoken assurance that their hearts will henceforth beat as one.

She is too old to imagine a grand future of adventure anymore, too old to want that future as well. The future she wants is one of peaceful walks and holding hands until she has to let go because her joints ache. A future of asking for help to braid her hair, and of feeling Kanna’s rough, gentle hands as they caress her face and neck while collecting all the strands. Grinning when she feels gentle lips press against her neck before she finishes getting dressed. Feigning interest in the indecipherable speech of toddlers and impressing children with simple waterbending tricks. Laughing at the antics of young men with egos that are too large and laughing at the young women who still swoon over them. Cooking for a family. Being part of a family. Seeing a smile before falling asleep.

Hama is too old to be an optimist but she thinks she has a pretty good shot at finally living the life she wants.

#m #my fic #avatar rarepair exchange #hama/kanna #hama #kanna #atla

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chaezy · 4 years

Text

good thing.

➸ Pairing: Jung Jaehyun | Reader

➸ Summary: For some reason, Jaehyun thinks he could wait a while more. Good things come to those who wait after all, his mother had told him once.

➸ Warning(s): N/A

➸ Word Count: 1.8k

➸ Author's Note: This is my first time posting something here on Tumblr so I hope this one shot was to your liking! I also apologize if there were any grammatical errors or typos! This was not proofread.

• • • • • •

She's late, Jaehyun thinks to himself, checking his phone to look at the time for the umpteenth time.

Jaehyun had his doubts before he agreed to his friend's offer. He knew the blind date Johnny practically begged him to go to wasn't going to end well just like his friend had hoped. In fact, it hasn't even started yet, but he was already feeling disappointed.

It's been almost an hour since he came and had been waiting at the supposed meeting place. And the more he waited, the more he felt hopeless somehow. He wanted to leave already, but he can't seem to find the will to as of yet.

For some reason, Jaehyun thinks he could wait a while more. Good things come to those who wait after all, his mother had told him once. And it's not like it'd hurt him if he waits a bit more. He's got nothing else to do anyway.

He had been drinking his not-so warm coffee when an unfamiliar and feminine voice spoke to him. “Are you Jaehyun?” The voice was sweet and smooth, very pleasing to the ears.

Jaehyun dragged the mug off his face and whirled his head to the side. Standing before him was a girl with [h/l], messy [h/c] hair, [e/c] eyes, and [s/c] complexion.

She's pretty, the male admits to himself, nodding his head to the question.

Jaehyun placed his mug down the table and stood up, wiping his dominant hand on his jeans before holding it out for the girl to take. Thankfully, she took it and shook his hand, promptly letting go after. Her hand was soft and her hold was gentle, Jaehyun noticed.

He gestured for her to sit onto the chair across him, which she gratefully did. Jaehyun watched the girl adjust herself comfortably onto the seat.

“You must be Haewon then?” he asked, looking directly at the girl in front of him.

“Actually, I'm her friend. . .” the girl trailed off, yet Jaehyun heard just fine. She fiddled with her fingers bashfully. “I'm [Y/N] by the way. Haewon sent me here to tell you that she's not coming. I'm sorry about that—her suddenly standing you up, I mean. She got back with her boyfriend yesterday so. . .”

An awkward silence loomed over the two of them. Jaehyun, who has no idea what to feel about the sudden information, only stared at [Y/N] with an unreadable expression.

“I-I'm really sorry about her and for making you wait for nothing to happen,” [Y/N] proceeded to talk. “I assure you my friend didn't agree just to not show up on the actual date. She was actually really eager to meet you! But then her ex-boyfriend kind of wanted to get back with her and after she realized she still loves him, she decided to give him another chance. She's a bit dumb, especially when it comes to love, which is why she did it.”

Then her face erupted into a deep shade of red, something Jaehyun found endearing somehow. She apologized profusely for talking a tad long and this elicited a chuckle from the male, which only seemed to worsen her blush and embarrassment.

“It's fine, I understand,” he reassured. [Y/N] seemed to ease at his statement so she released a sigh in relief. He smiled at the action, his dimples appearing.

Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind that didn't only shock [Y/N], but himself as well. “Will you stay a while longer?”

She looked at him with wide eyes.

Jaehyun didn't know he had it in him, but he was definitely not this bold. He was usually reserved and observed more than he talked.

“If it's okay with you, of course,” he said afterwards, chuckling sheepishly. Suddenly, he was the one feeling bashful now. “I would like to get to know you. Is that alright?”

Though hesitant at first, [Y/N] still nodded. This made Jaehyun grin broadly.

“Thank you.”

At least it worked out fine.

• • • • • •

A lot of time had passed since then, and Jaehyun learned a lot about the girl who's friend had stood him up.

He learned that [Y/N] attended the same university as he did and that she was taking Engineering as her course. He also learned that she was in one of the elective classes he takes and was absolutely surprised to hear about it. He would've seen her somehow at least once, but he never did.

“You must blend in really well with the crowd,” he said, half amused and half shocked. “I've never seen you in that class before.”

[Y/N] laughed at him. “I'm one of the students who usually comes to the class early. And I always sit at the back so maybe that's why you never see me.”

“I'll be sure look for you next time then,” Jaehyun beamed at her. “You're really cool and nice. I'd like to sit with you some time and talk more. Actually, give me your cell number. I'd love to hangout with you after this or when we're free.”

[Y/N] looked at him in shock, almost in disbelief. “You still want to hangout with me after this?” she asked, sounding incredulous. Jaehyun found this reaction of hers somewhat puzzling.

“Why? You don't want to?” He was hurt. He thought somehow that she felt the same way. Perhaps he thought wrong.

“Ah, no! I'm sorry if you interpreted it that way!” she apologized, waving her hands vigorously. “Hanging out with you would be nice! Truly! I was just surprised, you know? I mean. . . I thought after this you won't talk to me anymore. I'm not exactly the best person to talk to since I babble a lot more than I actually listen and I'm awkward as well, which makes it worse. I'm just confused why you'd hangout with me.”

Then he heard her curse under her breath, making him titter.

“Sorry about that. I know I'm rambling a lot, but I just can't stop myself sometimes!” She flashed him an apologetic smile. “I hope it doesn't bother you. . .”

Jaehyun noticed she tends to apologize all the time and play with her fingers when she was shy, embarrassed, or nervous.

Adorable, he mused.

Jaehyun then smiles warmly. “It's okay. I actually find it endearing and cute.” She seemed to redden at the sudden compliment, something that didn't go unnoticed by the male. “Will you give me your number then?”

She jolted from her seat suddenly, apologizing once again for being absentminded. She hastily grabbed his phone from his hand, their fingers brushing each other the slightest, and typed her digits quickly.

When Jaehyun got his phone back, his eyes lingered a bit too long at the screen. “We're number neighbors,” he blurted out, looking up to stare at the girl across him.

“Sorry?” [Y/N] tilted her head.

This time, it was Jaehyun's turn to blush. He shook his head, smiling reassuringly at her. “Nothing. Nevermind what I said.”

“Alright.” She smiled back at him, too prettily in fact.

Then her phone rang from the table all of a sudden, which both caught their attentions. [Y/N] apologized and excused herself for a while as she got out of her seat and went outside the coffee shop to take the call privately.

While she was out of sight at the moment, Jaehyun took this as an opportunity to assess his thoughts and opinions about the girl.

[Y/N] was a nice girl, though a bit bashful sometimes, but overall, she was fun to talk to. Although she can be awkward and would chatter a lot frequently, Jaehyun still finds himself charmed by her quirky traits. She was definitely odd, but that only seemed to pull him in.

Jaehyun definitely never felt like this before towards other girls he's met. Despite the fact that this was his first ever blind date, he knew she was different. Though that sounded a bit cliche, it was true anyway.

He wonders though, what if her friend, Haewon, hadn't gotten back with her boyfriend at all? Would he have enjoyed the date as much as he had enjoyed conversing with [Y/N]? Perhaps not, but he doesn't know that.

All he knows is that he is thankful that Haewon got back with her ex-boyfriend.

Jaehyun heard the familiar jingle on the entrance of the cafe, which made him perk up in his seat and sit up straighter as he caught the familiar mop of [h/c] drawing near.

[Y/N] didn't sit back at the chair and stood up besides it instead, an apologetic look plastered on her face.

“I'm so sorry, Jaehyun, but I have to go,” she said, a bashful smile gracing her lips. Jaehyun tried not to frown. “I forgot that my classmates and I were supposed to talk about a project and now they're wondering where I am. I'm really sorry that I have to cut our date—”

Jaehyun's ears turned red at the term.

“—short. I'll make it up to you sometime, okay? Just text or call me. My phone's always available.” She grabbed her things on the chair. “I'll go now. I'll see you soon again, alright? Bye!”

She waved, and then sprinted off, leaving Jaehyun alone.

Though he's a bit upset that it ended so soon, he can't help but still feel ecstatic. Date, he says to himself, she thought of it as a date.

A smile crept up to his face and he tried his best to cover it with his hand.

She said see you soon, he continued. There's definitely a second date.

• • • • • •

When Jaehyun got back at the dorms, he was immediately greeted by his roommate and best friend, Johnny.

“How was the date?” he asked with a teasing smirk and with one of his eyebrows raised. Jaehyun can't help but let a smile grace his lips as he recalled about what happened earlier. “Seeing you smile like that, it definitely turned out well then?”

Jaehyun hummed. “Not really,” he vaguely responded.

“What do you mean?”

“Haewon didn't come.”

“She stood you up?!” Johnny's mouth hung open in disbelief. “But you're smiling?! You came and waited for nothing!”

Jaehyun shook his head. “Her friend came, called herself [Y/N], and apologized in behalf of her friend. Told me Haewon got back with her ex-boyfriend yesterday, which is why she didn't bother showing up today, and that she sent [Y/N] to tell me about it.”

Johnny raised his eyebrows at his friends. “And?” he urged, suddenly curious.

“I asked [Y/N] if she can stay a bit longer and she did,” Jaehyun resumed. “We talked, we laughed, and I got her number. But she had to leave early because her classmates were calling for her. But guess what, Johnny?”

“What?”

Jaehyun plopped down on a chair with the biggest and proudest grin as he looked up at his friend. “This guy's getting a second date.”

Good things really do come to those who wait.

#jaehyun fluff #jaehyun x reader #nct 127 #nct jaehyun #nct x reader #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #jaehyun

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 4 years

Text

S.T. REWRITE - S2:E9; Chapter Nine, The Gate- [Pt. 5]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

The survivors turn up the heat on the monstrous force that's holding Will hostage, and Y/n's powers are put to the ultimate test in the process. Eleven makes plans to finish what she started.

A/n:.... yall ready for this???? + For some reason, the link isn't working but I looked all over and found this really bitchin [😉] synth score for your guys' scene. You of course don't have to listen to it or anything but it's REALLY cool and fits the scene well I think. It's called

Sorcerer by S U R V I V E

I recommend it! I understand though, if you don't 🥰Either way, happy reading! And yay, snowball next!!

Warnings: suffocation, noticeable amount of violence, more blood. Baddassery. Edit: a slightly tweaked sad endgame quote my subconscious slipped in there

||3rd Person POV||

Steve and the four party members now sit at the entrance of the tunnel that had brought them to the hub, all canisters now completely empty. The hub reeked of gasoline that manages to sting their throats despite their masks.

"You ready?" Steve asks, glancing back at the kids.

A chorus of muffled agreements ring out, and only then does he pull the lighter from his breast pocket.

Dustin looks up at Steve, sending him a curt and reassigned nod.

"Light her up,"

Steve sighs, taking one last look at their work. The tension in the air now palpable.

"I am in such deep shit,"

He flicks the lighter open, and in one swift click, it comes to life with a sharp and threatening hiss.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The flames in the fireplace grow brighter and far more intense as it reaches and swallows the bigger pieces of firewood. Will's screams have turned to violent grunts has his grip grows tighter around his mother's neck. Jonathan is already at her aid, trying with all his might to release her but Will's grip is unnaturally strong and unwavering.

Seeing this, Nancy jumps into action and quickly maneuvers around the bed to the fireplace. She can't bring herself to leave the poor injured girl passed out against the wall without sending several silent apologies to her. I'm sorry, Y/n! She makes it to the fireplace and pulls the tong loose from the fire where it had been cooking and shook a few logs loose.

The end was a bright and glowing shade of yellow, and Nancy fought a deep breath and the hesitation creeping up, but she had to do something! Her grip around the firepoker tightens until her knuckles turn white.

Behind her, the fire begins to pop as the loosened logs begin to shift, and several embers are sent flying. Several of them land on Will, angering him further. It's almost enough to make him let go, but he does not relent. The firepoker is already in his side, burning right through his shirt with a horrible sizzle, and the boy howls in pain, Joyce now set free.

His back arches in horrible pain, the stick plunging further into his side and another screech is let loose.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

This was it. It was now or never. The dogs weren't going anywhere, and he had to get El to the gate. Hopper's eyes flutter closed, and he counts to three under his breath, the cry of each beast echoing in his skull and beating against his chest.

One...

Two...

Three...

He throws himself through the door, gun first, and his finger on the trigger.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Joyce now towers over her son, spit flying and her voice strained from injury. Nancy had helped her to her feet and was now aiding the rest in restraining Will.

Joyce takes a deep breath as strained screams bellow from her.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY SON!"

�� ⊹ ⊹

The lighter in Steve's gloved hand cast out into the fume soaked air, it's small but greedy flame swallows the entire room in seconds. The vines once woven into the dirt come alive in seconds, and they reach the ceilings, writhing and squealing as the flames engulf them.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

A strong and booming roar erupts from deep within Will's chest, the deep voice of the Mind Flayer they had caught a glimpse of in the shed, returns at full force. His back arches once more, the back his head digging deep into the pillow. He is shaking violently now, as he had the night the lab had set the tunnels on fire.

Joyce stumbles back as his shaking grows more violent. His head arches back even further against all odds, and that's when they spot it.

"His neck!" Nancy cries, pointing feverishly as she returns to Jonathan's side. "Look at his neck!"

Several thick and dark veins began protruding through his skin as it crawled up his neck, and it looked as if they were full of dark sludge.

"The Mind Flayer's losing," Jonathan mumbles.

Will's head shoots up at the words, the veins have already spread to his face and even stretch across his arms now. They all jump back as his head whips off the bed, his eyes completely black. The Mind Flayer's grip on the boy tightens, his rage stronger than his pain at their audacity to tempt his strength with Henderson's presence.

"AND HE'LL DIE WITH ME!"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The end of Hopper's gun finds its first target, but before he can pull the trigger he sees them writhe and hiss. Their slender bodies begin to shake violently in pain and for a moment he hopes...

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Go, go, go!"

The party does not hesitate, they are already on their feet and begin their sprint for the exit.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The bed begins to shake with him, every muscle in his body tensed with his fists clenched at his sides and shaking. They all watch in horror, his deep screams turn to grunts, not realizing what he is truly doing until it is too late. His left leg bursts free, the rope still dangling around his bleeding ankle and the others scramble to restrain him. His leg reels back before barreling into his mother's ribcage.

With his unnaturally given strength, she is sent flying a couple of feet, landing just in front of the bookshelf. His rage burns as hot as the fire that fuels it.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The fire in the hub spreads, already flames rain down from the ceiling as every inch is consumed.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The Demodogs shrill howls climb even higher, as they twitch. But their attention never leaves Hopper. They crawl and stalk towards him, heads bowed and hissing. They weren't weakened.

They were pissed.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Jonathan rushes to his brother, pinning his one free arm back down.

"You're... gonna lose... him!" The words are spit from Will's mouth, a struggle through the growing pain.

Just as the monster had hoped, Jonathan hesitates, his tearful eyes widening and his whole jaw quivers fighting back a sob. Will's fist breaks loose from his grip and before Jonathan can catch it, it meets his nose sending the older boy flying back into the couch, knocking his breath loose.

Another painful scream erupted as the fire beneath Hawkins spread, but he fights it as much as he can. He was almost free. But most importantly, he couldn't let them win. Not with her on their side.

His black eyes meet with the one they called Nancy, who had been kneeling over Joyce on the floor. Her wide eyes locked onto Will's, and she froze. Her eyes darted to the spike she had left near the pit and she made a run for it.

But he was too quick and had been expecting it. Just as he had with the mother, his heel collided with her jaw and sent her to the floor as he let out a painful scream. Every movement was pure agony, but he knew he could take them now.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Hopper's bullets are sent into several Demodogs, but he only manages to bring down two. The swarm was advancing on him, they had nearly crossed the glass when suddenly they stopped altogether.

In a matter of seconds, each of their screams blended into one and they began to writhe and shake, one of them even collapsed. Its body was still crying out in pain, but it was as if it could hold it's self no longer. One by one they began to mimic their sibling, their twitching growing ever violent. They were rooted in place, they couldn't walk.

That's when Hopper felt it. The ground beneath his feet had begun to rumble, the steady stream of cold air that had drifted in from the gate began to dwindle. He lowered his gun, his attention pulling him all around the room as it began to shake.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Let's go, let's go!"

Steve calls back to the group of kids, unable to run without checking behind him every few moments assuring everyone was with him.

"Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god," Dustin pants as he runs.

A screech leaves his throat as he finds himself on the ground once more, but it was no vine or root that tripped him. Everyone felt it, a great rumble that shook their very bones. They all stop and Max helps Dustin up to his feet.

"What is that?" Lucas calls over the booming rumbles.

By now, the vibrations were so intense, the dirt was being shaken loose from the vines and rained down from above.

"I think it's an earthquake!" Mike cries.

A light breeze picks up in the tunnel from where they're headed, carrying with it a warm toasty wave of heat that answered their question.

"No, not an earthquake!" Dustin's eyes went wide from behind his goggles as he looked to others excitedly. "It's Y/n!"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The Henderson child had managed to pull herself from unconsciousness, and she now stood across the bed. Her arms were stretched out before her and a blazing fire resided in her eyes, a grunt pulled from deep within her throat. Three bloody lines where his nails had caught her ran diagonally down her vein covered face. Each vein protruded from her skin as blood poured from her nose and ears.

Like a broken dam, all that raw power trapped inside her burst free. Y/n was a supernova, a sight to behold as everything inside her exploded all around her. She allowed the weight of all that she had endured to shoot to the surface and engulf her completely. It awakened every cell in her body and touched every nerve in her system.

She didn't have to close her eyes to relive the painful memories as she did on the side of the road. The vast and seemingly neverending pool of dark thoughts and feelings swallows her whole and it all washes over her in angry red flashes.

《•••》

Like her friends, she had mounted her bike ready to flee the Wheeler house and away from the bad men who had found them. She paused in fear, looking over her shoulder at the man who stood before his fleet of vans.

He had stark white hair and his slightly wrinkled face and surrounding him was an aura of menace.

It was him. Martin Brenner, the power-hungry man responsible for the threat that had reached Hawkins. And the man obsessed with Eleven. And herself as she would soon discover.

It was the same man who struck fear into her very soul only minutes ago through the window.

His cold eyes bore into El, but then he turned his attention to her. Something about him and the way his eyes were fixed on herself... it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Her blood ran cold.

It was the day he had caught her scent.

•••

"Dustin? Dustin!" She shrieks.

Her brother's desperate calls for her break her heart, but it turns to fire when she hears the man's voice.

"Y/n, don't fight it. You belong with us. We are your true home. Come home to us, Nine"

•••

The intense and raw ache of her heart as she choked on every moment of silence El was in the bath. Everyone surrounds her as she floats silently amongst the saltwater, everyone including Y/n watching with bated breath. When her voice breaks the silence it is a soft whimper, a plea for life as she says the boy's name.

"Will?"

Y/n's hands grip the edge of the pool so tight she fears the skin of her knuckles will tear. Every moment of silence is devastating but the small snivel of Will over the walkie and what he says, deliver the final dagger to her heart.

"Y/n?"

《•••》

Y/n can feel the dagger even now, the devastating weight of all the strain and heartbreak flooding her lungs and escaping in an ear-piercing scream that moved the earth.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

El joined Hopper's side in cautious steps as she traveled through the tremors, her hand coming to wrap around his elbow to steady herself. Her widened brown eyes were surveying the shaking world around them, and she could see rubble breaking loose and raining down from the ceilings around them. The warm burst of heat hit her face and neck, and that is when her eyes meet with Hopper when it finally clicked.

Simultaneously their attention is pulled to the gate where the entire army of Demodogs begins collapsing into the dark abyss one by one. The darkness swallows their bodies and their many lingering wails of agony as they fall.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The underground team looked at one another in astonishment as the reality settled in, their hands still clinging to the grimy walls around them for balance. Steve broke from his temporary stupor and began waving the kids out.

"Come on, team, keep it moving! Keep it movin'!"

They fell into action, clambering back into line as they tried to make a break for the exit. They were close, but still had several turns to make. Steve helped the children through, catching them as they fell and sending them on their way with his eyes above their heads watching carefully. All the while in his sprint, Dustin cries out proudly into the air, a beaming smile hidden behind his bandana.

"Yeah, that's my fucking sister!"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The world bent at Y/n's will, everything not screwed to the walls or floors broke loose as the cabin moved around all inside it. It was a movement so forceful and demanding, it moved all of Hawkins. A guttural battle cry pierced the air as her powers exploded into an unstoppable force that had awakened her full potential.

《•••》

"She disappeared... Bang," El said slowly, a saddened frown forming on her face. "Gone."

"So, my mom? She's...?" Y/n took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in her throat and El nodded.

•••

"Jane, let me put it this way. Does it not bother you that not only did your friend get a better life than us, but our lives were made worse because of it?"

•••

"This could be your home, you said it yourself, we're sisters[...] We'll look after each other. We understand each other. Y/n will never understand you. But I do. Would you like that, Jane?"

•••

"That pesky tag-along friend of hers, what about her?"

"I have no use for her. She's not to be trusted, I want her gone by morning."

《•••》

The heartbreak that fills her up inside no longer slows her down but instead fuels the fire in her chest. Not the Mind Flayer's hatred for her, but the fact it was using her best friend as a puppet. The awful things he was doing to Will, not only to hurt him but the ones he cared about.

《•••》

"Get out!" She winces, but this time she doesn't listen to him. "GO AWAY!"

"No. Not until I talk to Will."

"GO AWAY! GO AWAY! GO AWAY!"

"-Will," Joyce tries.

Will's small frame starts to move again, fighting as hard as he can against the restraints under the harsh light in the shed. His teeth are bared and his usual warm and kind eyes are dark and cold as they burn holes into her skull. Hopper has to pin him back again, but the hatred bottled up inside him for her is undeniable.

•••

"NO! NO! GO AWAY! NO! GET THE HELL OUT!" He screams. "GET OUT! GET AWAY! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!"

•••

Y/n watched tearfully as Joyce began to choke on her words at the pride of her son as she listened intently from the corner with a simultaneous swelling, and breaking of her heart. "You said she should have it because she was sad. She's sad, Mom, and I want to make that go away."

"I love you so much," Joyce tearfully coos. "So, so much."

The heartbreak evident in Joyce's voice brings a whole new level of pain to her heart, unable to imagine the position Joyce was in as his mother. The thought of watching your son endure such a horrific thing, not knowing if he'll even survive. It pissed her off even more.

•••

"...I asked you why you were being so nice to me, why you wanted me to be apart of your group,"

A small sob came out in the form of a chuckle, and she wiped a tear off her cheek.

"And you told me it was because..." her lip quivers as the words tumble out. "because that was your birthday wish."

A tear slips down Will's cheek, but his expression remains as still as stone. She can practically hear the breaking of her heart as she sees Will losing his battle before her very eyes. His body shakes violently in an attempt to regain control but the Mind Flayer quickly pulls him back down, swallowing him in darkness as he tries to silence him.

《•••》

Each of these moments are enough to send her over the edge, but the words she had yet to shake from her mind were the ones to do the trick. The words still bouncing violently around her skull, taunting her and reminding her that they were all moments away from losing Will forever.

As the storm inside her reaches its peak, swirling around her head and heart in a violent mass closing in on her, all she can hear are the last words she had heard from her best friend before he had attacked her.

"KILL HER, DAMMIT! KILL HER! KILL HER!"

The room grew from dim to blinding in a matter of astonish-filled moments.

Her s/c skin began to glow like a star, the cosmic force at work pumping hard through her veins. Nancy, Jonathan, and Joyce watched in awe as she comes alive, all the while Will's small and trembling frame twisting and kicking as he is engulfed in searing pain.

His screams vibrate with his body before his small frame shrinks in on itself like a dead spider. He straightens in seconds, his head, hands, and feet now glued to the bed as he bends in one final arc, his chest rising to the heavens. Will's mouth opens in another scream and a billowing cloud of inky black smoke escapes. It twists and unravels out from between his lips like a pitch-black tornado.

It grows larger and larger, circling over the boy and looms over the entire room as it had the last few days. Will's body goes limp, falling back onto the mattress as the dark mass zips across the room and through the front door breaking it open.

Nancy quickly recovers her footing and chases it out of the door to assure it's leaving for good. Sure enough, when she reaches the porch she spots the black dust circle the trees before disappearing into the sky.

The first thing that stops is the light, all that illuminates the room now is the dim lamps they had flipped on and light of the flames. Everything in the room begins to settle, the rattling of dishes and furniture, and dust rained down from the ceiling from where it had broken loose.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

By now, their trek back to the exit is halfway through, their gloves now completely damp from grasping the walls as they navigate through the tremors. But they find themselves slowing, meeting each other's eye excitedly when the earth gradually steadies again.

They picked up speed immediately, eager not only to escape the tunnels but to see their friend - and sister - again.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

A thud breaks the shocked silence as Y/n collapses to her hands and knees, coughing and panting for breath. The room is blurry and she only catches every other word. Her arms feel just as weak and strained and she allows herself to collapse against the wall nearby.

The scuffling of shoes enters her subconscious as she fights to understand what's going on. Y/n can barely register what is happening when she feels a hand lightly touch her shoulder. She nods either way and the figure scurries away.

It had been Joyce, who had pulled herself up from the ground and came to check on Y/n when she gave the all-clear. Her eyelids weighed a thousand pounds and she could feel herself falling asleep against the wall. She tried to stay awake, to know if Will was okay but again she found herself catching every few moments.

All heaters now unplugged, the door left open to let in the cold autumn air.

Jonathan had helped untie the rest of his restraints, and Joyce now sat at his bedside as he lay unconscious. His eyes were sunken, his eyelids dark. He was still awfully pale but already he looked more himself. Will's limp body shifts around as his mother lightly tries to shake him awake, her chest sore and her throat strained but she doesn't care. She just wants her baby.

"Will," she sobs. "Will. Please, Will. Will."

Through sobs of his own, Jonathan places one trembling hand onto his brother's head, brushing away the stray hairs as pleas leave his lips. "Come on, buddy. Come on."

"Please," Joyce wails. "Can you hear me?"

"Come on,"

"Will?"

With great struggle, his eyelids finally flutter open. When Will sees who is in front of him, he feels relief overwhelm him. His lips tug into a weak smile, eliciting an excited gasp from his mother.

"Mom?"

Will feels his limp and drained body being pulled into his mother's embrace, he happily welcomes it. His sobs of relief are buried in her hair and he can feel his shoulder dampening further with her own tears. His eyes are squeezed shut, and despite his lack of strength, he squeezes with all his might, never wanting to let go. He was all too afraid none of it was real, and he doesn't realize it to be possible but his happiness grows when he feels his brother join the hug. Jonathan locks his long arms around his family, like them, not ever wanting to let go.

Nancy has already returned, and when she found the Byers in a tearful embrace, she was happy to know the youngest was now okay. But worry remained and quickly she maneuvered through the now cluttered cabin floor to Y/n's side and knelt to her knees to check on the poor girl.

Y/n's head was propped up against the wall, her chest moved up and down in shallow breaths but the blood seemed to have stopped flowing. Nancy lays a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder, pulling her from sleep. Y/n looks up around the room, trying to see through her foggy vision who was with her now.

Nancy whispered to her softly, her thumb subconsciously running soothing circles into her shoulder as her mother always did for her when she was unwell. "Y/n, are you okay?"

"I..."

She tries to speak, but her mouth is too dry. Her dry tongue meets her dried and cracked lips as she tries to find her voice and that is when she notes the taste of salty copper on her tongue. Her blood had mixed with tears, she hadn't even realized she had been crying. When her vision clears, it lands on Will's trembling form as he clings to his mother and brother in relief.

Her eyes begin to sting, and she looks at Nancy, trying to form words but none seem to come. It feels as if a rock sits in her throat, and she can feel more tears streak down her cheeks stinging the scratches on her face. She should be happy that Will was alright! She was, but what she had just done...

It was all too much for her at that moment, and sobs choked her airways. Y/n's limbs were growing heavier by the second and she felt herself collapse into Nancy's shoulder. Nancy pulled Y/n in, her eyebrows knitting together in a sorrowful frown. Y/n's tears and blood soaked her neck and shirt further, and like Joyce, she couldn't care less. Her arms wrapped around the girl's shaking form and began rubbing her back soothingly.

"You did it, Y/n," she whispers, eyes closed, holding back tears of her own. "You were so great..."

The words coax another sob out of the Henderson girl as all her emotions come flooding out, no longer held back. The words Nancy speaks to her are the words she hadn't known she had needed to hear.

"It's okay," she mutters. "It's over, now. You can rest."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The rest of the pack had disappeared down into the abyss, Hopper's right arm still secured tightly around El's shoulders in a protective manner. The warm wind gusting through the broken glass separating them from the abyss gingerly fades away, allowing the cold atmosphere leaking in from the gate to return.

The earth had stilled completely, leaving behind an eery silence that rose the hair on the back of their necks. They didn't have to say anything, but when their eyes met, they knew then and there that Will was safe.

Y/n had done it.

As if reading their thoughts, the walkie Hopper holsters crackle loudly disrupting the deafening silence, and Jonathan's voice booms over the other side.

"Chief, are you there? Chief, do you copy?"

Hopper hastily draws the walkie from his pocket and up to his lips, his breath shaky. "Yeah, I copy."

"..."

Both pairs of eyes land on the gate before them as Jonathan speaks, dread soaks them to the very bone and the icy chill returns to the stale air.

"Close it."

||Reader's POV||

"Close it,"

It takes about all the energy I have but I manage to peel my eyes open at the sound of Jonathan's voice. He's speaking into a ham radio attached to the wall, and his face is hardened in a frown.

The room shakes once very suddenly, or at least it feels like it does as my head throbs. I groan, my eyes screwing shut. I hear more footsteps, and the low steady creak of the bedsprings dipping as Jonathan takes a seat next to his brother.

It all washes over me again, the intensity of it all. My chest tightens and I feel more tears brimming. It hurts to breathe, to move my chest since my entire body is aching, every muscle.

But I also feel... Really good. Finally confronting all of my pain, and letting it all out... In a way, it felt like fresh air and natural light streaming in after years of living in a dark and stale room. The change felt good.

It's an intense and bizarre cocktail of emotions that barred my thinking and made it hard to function. But over it all, I know one thing for sure. I need to rest.

I'm not sure I could do anything else if I tried, but I'm just thankful it's over. And above all, that Will is safe. Still, I can't quite wrap my head around what I had just accomplished, everything that still sits on the surface.

I feel more tears squeeze past my eyelids as the grief washes over me in its usual steady waves. They streak down the sides of my face and disappear through my scalp, tickling my cheeks as they glide across my skin. It finally clicks that I'm no longer on the floor, but the others must have moved me to the couch where I now lay on my back, head propped against a woolen pillow. The searing hot tears diverge in many paths in a new batch and now soak into the creases of my ears.

My joints scream at me in protest as I reach limply to swipe away as many tears as I can, my eyes still closed and my lip screwed in a quiver. On instinct, my palms travel across my face as I try to rub away the tears, and the blood from my nose and ears but I surprise myself with a whimper.

I barely register a small and gentle gasp and the scuffle of footsteps heading towards me as I try to understand why my face is stinging. I feel the couch dip slightly, and a pair of soft hands touch my wrists urging me to pull away. Soft shushing captures my attention and I recognize it to be Joyce. I fight against the pain of the soft light illuminating the cabin that sears my throbbing head to look at her, and it takes a moment to adjust but for the first time since I opened my eyes I can see clearly now.

Joyce sits next to me, her eyes are swimming in tears as looks at me and her lips are stretched across her face in a beaming smile, though her bottom lip still quivers. I feel more tears escape as I try to find words, but none come and that seems to break her more.

She shakes her head with the same expression still fixed on her face and sniffles. When she speaks her voice is still hoarse and raspy but I can still make out the pride in it.

"I know, honey. I'm so, so sorry." I feel her hand intertwine with mine and give it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm so sorry,"

Through my blurry vision I make out Nancy's figure approach us from behind me, and she hands something to Joyce who mutters a thank you. Her hand releases mine as she unfolds what Nancy had brought her, and I realize now that it's a wet cloth. She bunches it up and meets my eyes with a soft motherly gaze.

"This might sting a little, but it'll help, okay?"

I nod, my eyes fluttering closed again as a shakey sigh escapes. I feel the cool cloth meet my skin, stinging the three prominent streaks across my face. I bite back a hiss, feeling soothed just ever so as I hear her muttering softly to me.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Almost done,"

The worst of the pain begins to fade and my eyes flutter back open. She pulls the cloth away to turn it over, and I spot the dark smears of blood already soaked inside. She brings it back to my face, dabbing away the dried up streaks that had tightened my skin under my nose and the streaks under my ears.

Joyce pulls away, bunching up the cloth dropping it in her lap forgotten, her eyes back on me. It hurts to swallow, so I can feel the uncomfortable build up in my mouth as more tears seem to brim. I catch Joyce's hands gently reaching for mine and I let her take it, both her calloused but soft hands sandwich my own and it forces me to meet her eyes.

"You are so, so brave," she chokes, tears spilling from her eyes. "and so strong..."

Her head shakes back and forth slightly as if trying to will the tears away but she can't. She can only try to compose herself long enough to get the words out. Her right-hand breaks free and her thumb gently wipes away one of many stray tears on my cheek and comes to stroke my chin in one gentle swipe.

"I'll never be able to thank you properly for what you just did..." her lip quivers violently now, but the large smile returns, breaking out on her face as she speaks with absolute certainty. "I am so proud of you,"

An audible sob shakes my body, and with some struggle - and help from her - I pull myself up and into Joyce's arms. She gladly pulls me in, sobs leaving her lips as well and I feel a different kind of warmth spread through my chest, all the way to my fingertips and toes. It wasn't a hostile warmth, but a comforting one, and I realize for the first time why both her and Nancy's embrace and words meant so much to me.

It was the warm motherly reassurance I hadn't realized I'd been missing. My own mother had no knowledge of my powers, my past, anything that had truly happened in the past year. And therefore knew nothing of the enormous weight the Upside Down, my powers, Will, all of it, had on me. And to have the acceptance and reassurance of Joyce - even Nancy - after going so long without it, felt almost intoxicating in the moment.

I burrowed my head in the crook of her shoulder, and as Nancy did, her palms rubbed soothing circles into my back as she let me cry into her hair. I kept hearing her mutter the words softly in my ears, assuring the words stuck inside my brain so I wouldn't ever forget it.

"I'm so proud, baby, so proud," her voice was low and soothing and she cradled me. "You did so good."

My heartbeat had already slowed significantly in her embrace, and it felt as if I had melted into her shoulder. She never broke the hug, showing me she was here for me as long as I needed her which I greatly appreciated. Finally, my eyes fluttered open and I slowly pull away.

For the first time since waking, I am getting a good look around the cabin, and my mouth parts slightly in shock. It looked as if it had been ransacked, so many things had fallen to the floor and I looked at her worriedly. She smiled, shaking her head.

"It's okay hon, it's fixable," she assured, she then picks up the bloodied cloth from her lap and sends me a reassuring smile. "I'll be right back,"

I nod silently, still fighting back a wince as I look behind me at the fallen stools at the breakfast bar and the many things littering the floor that had once been on shelves. The lamp on the table had fallen over and several shards of glass from the bulb were sprinkled across the table and floor.

My eyes wander back to the living room and my breath catches in my throat when I see Will. Jonathan and Nancy sat on either side of him talking to one another as well as him. But he was looking at me, and I felt my heartbeat spike significantly. His face was full of guilt as he had been examining my face, most likely where he must have scratched me. He didn't break away when I met his gaze, and for a moment we shared silent apologies.

I offered him a weak smile, telling him it was okay and he seemed to melt. And yet, the sight was enough to make my insides melt as well. It was such a wonderful sight to see after the past few days, knowing and seeing him okay. My stomach begins to flutter when I see a blush creep up on his cheeks. It wasn't hard to spot given his still paled skin, but I felt the heat rising in my cheeks as well.

But just as soon our attention was pulled to the lights around the cabin. It drew everyone's attention, including Joyce who paused at the kitchen sink as the lights grew brighter and brighter. The cabin grew blindingly bright for the second time that night, and halfheartedly my palms raised off my lap to silently say 'it isn't me this time.'

My brain races to connect the dots as my eyes squint through the blinding light of the bulbs when it finally clicks. Jonathan and Nancy seem to have made the same connection when I meet their wide-eyed stare, the word tumbling out of my mouth in a whisper.

"Eleven."

||3rd Person POV||

༄ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 ༄

The final lock is secured with a defined click, signifying the end of Hawkins Laboratory. One of the final many guards to lock up steps away from one of many chained up entrances revealing the large signs plastered over the wall behind him.

WARNING RESTRICTED AREA

The man climbs aboard the jeep and no sooner does it take off down the main exit of the now-abandoned lot, bleeding into line with the rest of the troops.

Thanks to Nancy and Jonathan and the help of an eccentric conspiracist, Murray Bauman during the unfolding events of the prior month, the three had concocted a plan to take down Hawkins Lab. With enough proof - a secret audio tape of Sam Owens discussing the cover-up of Barb's death - were able to fabricate a smaller conspiracy big enough to take down the lab.

A conspiracy that was now being broadcasted nationwide.

"Since the release of the incendiary tape, the once quiet town of Hawkins, Indiana, has spent time in a place it never expected."

One by one the line of military troops file out of the main entrance to the lab for good. Sat comfortably in a lawn chair outside his parked van was none other than Murray Bauman, who watched the parade of troops merrily with a smug grin on his bespeckled face.

"The national spotlight."

The man giggled happily, one hand leaving his pocket and waving an exaggerated salute at the man in the jeep. Glaring as the car carried him by, he sent the smug man the finger without breaking contact from the road. Murray's giggles only grow more mischievous, and he sends a very kiddish wave to the rest, his cheeks sore from smiling.

"Under mounting pressure, several high-ranking members from the U.S Department of Energy have admitted involvement in the death and cover-up,"

Several sullen figures dressed all in black surround the polished coffin being lowered into the ground. Three of these figures, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, and Steve Harrington.

"of Hawkins resident Barbara Holland who died due to exposure to an experimental chemical asphyxiant, which had leaked from the grounds of the lab."

Mr. And Mrs. Holland stand in each other's embrace at their daughters grave in tears, grasping tightly to one another. The long search for their daughter over in the most devastating conclusion.

"We send our own April Kline to Hawkins to speak to residents,"

The news anchor's voice echoes throughout the Hideaway bar from the small television set sat high on the shelf. The walls and shelves are decorated with many chunky Christmas lights for the upcoming holiday. The bar is filled with small chatter that fades out over the TV and the occasional clinking of glasses.

"residents who told us they thought they lived in a safe town. A kind of town where, they say, nothing ever happens."

The entrance to the Hideaway is pulled open with little strain, the warm air trapped inside is swept out with the demanding winter breeze that quickly takes its place. Wrapped up in a thick winter coat, Hopper steps inside and takes a quick look around. It hadn't changed much since his last visit over a year ago during his investigation of the lab and Will's "death". Funny enough, he used to frequent the place often, but since El had entered his life, he had quickly lost interest.

His eyes find the man he had come here to meet across the bar, sat at one of several booths enjoying a ham and turkey sandwich. Making his way across the bar, Hopper discards his heavy jacket, folding it up against his chest and tossing it in the corner of the booth before taking a seat across from Dr. Sam Owens.

"Cheif-o," the man pipes with a smile.

"How's the leg?" Hopper questions with a small smile.

Owens nods, swallowing the last of his bite and gestures to his right leg.

"Better," he chips. "Pretty sure my football career is over."

The two men share a small chuckle. Owens picks up the half of his sandwich he had touched and pushed the plate full of chips and the rest of the sandwich across the table in offering.

"Want some of this? No way I'm gonna finish it."

A tight, polite smile plasters over Hopper's face as he waves it off and gives him a shake of the head.

"No. I'm, uh... on a diet." He admits, thinking of El.

He had done a lot of thinking, and he knew now that he wanted this kid in his life for good. And that meant taking good care of himself so she had someone looking out for her.

It was also the very reason for this visit, and why he had been so anxious to talk to Owens. He stared at the man across from him as he spoke. Not bothered to try and hide the intimidation in his eyes as he prepared to reap the threat that was sown back in Hawkins Lab all those nights ago.

"Well, you're a better man than me," Owens says, immediately perking as he turns to his discarded jacket pocket. "Hey, got a little something for you."

Hopper sighs, leaning further back in his seat a bit taken aback. He watches curiously as Owens pulls a sealed white envelope out, places it on the table, and slides it across into his hand.

With a furrowed brow, Hopper picks it up and the envelope opens with a small crinkle. A somewhat thick piece of parchment lays inside that makes his heart skip a beat, all previous intimidations he was prepared to throw at the doctor vanish completely. He tucks the ends out of the envelope to get a better look, also being cautious of any possible prying eyes but no matter how many times he reads the words it doesn't seem real.

STATE OF INDIANA Certificate of Birth

This Certifies that according to records if the State of Indiana

Name 𝙹𝙰𝙽𝙴 𝙷𝙾𝙿𝙿𝙴𝚁 Was born in 𝙷𝙰𝚆𝙺𝙸𝙽𝚂 Child of 𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚂𝙰 𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂

"Congratulations, Pops," Owens smirks.

Hopper's wide eyes dart to across the table to the man watching his reaction. "I thought--"

Owens shrugged. "Sometimes I impress even myself."

Hopper slips the parchment back into the sleeve, and folds up the envelope before slipping it into his jacket pocket where he wouldn't lose it. His defenses creep back up at what the man says next, though not as bad given the progress.

"Still, I'd let things cool off for a while, if I were you."

Hopper subconsciously squares his shoulders, his long and bulky arms coming to stretch across the table in an intimidating manner. His brows bunch together in a creased frown, tilting his head.

"How long is a while?"

He tries to remain patient with the man, but it proves more difficult than anticipated considering the heavy weight of his guilt. Hopper couldn't deny he played just a big of a part in El's captivity in the cabin, even if it was out of good intentions. All the more reason he was now determined to make it right.

"Want to be safe? Give it a year," Owens answers.

Hopper's brows shoot up. "A year?"

Shit.

His chest deflates in a sigh and snatches the untouched sandwich off the plate, taking a rather large bite out of the side. He thinks for a moment, an idea forming in his head.

"What about one night out?"

"One night?"

"Yeah," he hardens, quickly attaching himself to the idea, knowing how important it was to El. "How risky would that be?"

"What's so important about one night?"

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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solari-writes-things · 4 years

Text

Artist’s Touch

requested by: @sazafraz

eeeee Rainbow Six writing I can’t wait.

Prompt -

Dialogue That is Sunshine and Smiles: “Paint With Me”

Timur Glazkov x Reader

gif isn’t mine, credited below.

R6 Tag List: @sazafraz @kind-wolf @tsumethedrifter (if you wish to be included, please comment or message below.)

REQUESTS CLOSED

You hadn’t been in Rainbow for more than a couple of months. So hearing the bustling sounds of Hereford base was still quite the adjustment you needed to make. However, you were grateful to have made a rapidly growing friendship with several of the operators.

In specifics, the Spetsnaz. For a group of people who were so vastly different in many ways, they all seemed to mesh well perfectly like pieces to a puzzle. All complimented one another, the synergy in their small circle overwhelming. For them to have, essentially, adopted you meant much more than they could understand.

So you were invited to hang out with them. Just a day of relaxation, as much as Alexsandr would allow. However, Alex’s voice echoing through the room wasn’t the thing that you seem to focus on the most out of this endeavor.

You were watching Timur, painting away at something small in his sketch book with the watercolors that he had kept on his person. At least, when he wasn’t doing any work for Rainbow. You had to admit, out of the five people that you had met on your first day, he had been the one you connected to the most.

Maybe it was because of how engaging he was when you both were in seclusion. When he knew no one else would be paying attention, he became much more lively. He talked more, asked more questions about you. You had both connected on your interest in the arts, in which he proceeded to show off his works that he had on hand.

They were bright, colorful. A contrast to who he had made himself out to be. You had admitted to him that you didn’t really know how to paint, in which he had smiled widely and made a comment about maybe teaching you someday. Of course, you would be thrilled to learn from him. If he was an entertaining teaching you the arts as he was in conversing, you had nothing but hope in store for yourself.

He was a man who gave no time to the aspect of judgement, and that would greatly encourage you to learn the technique of it all.

For a moment, his focus had broken from his sketchbook, and his icy blue eyes met yours. You couldn’t avert your gaze fast enough, and you caught a glimpse of a smile before you forced your attention down to the phone in your hands.

“Did you want to see what I was working on?” he inquired simply, since the other boys were off in a different section of the room.

“I can see it when it’s finished, Timur, as much as my impatience says ‘yes’,” you joke, your eyes not peeling away from your cell phone as you scrolled through just to act as if you were doing something.

You glance up once more, after a couple seconds of entertained silence from him. He seemed in thought, a half smile playing at the edge of his lips. “Paint with me.”

You sputter with how simple he said it, and for a moment you thought he forgot that you didn’t really know what to do with a brush. “D-...Did you forget I don’t know how to paint?”

He shakes his head and moves over in his seat, patting the spot next to him. “I’m going to teach you. Come. I’ll give you a spot in my sketchbook for this.”

You blink, a little honored that he would dedicate one of his pages to your trial and error. So you stand, shuffling over to him slowly and taking a seat next to him. He digs into his supplies sitting comfortably on the arm of his seat to give you a pencil to start your project.

You at least knew how to do that. You take the pencil carefully out of his hand, as if the object were made of glass, giving him a quick “thanks” as you begin to drag the graphite across the paper surface. He moves his eyes away from the sight of you working, unsure if you were comfortable with the idea of him watching you work right now. He didn’t mind the comfortable silence, and frankly you didn’t either. Working on one of you hobbies while in his company felt...right. If it had been anyone else, you would have stirred where you sat.

But he was respectable. He honored your space, your privacy, even though you working in front of him almost tantalizingly.

After several minutes of him not peeking, you finally extend the pencil toward him with a smile. It was the sign he needed to peel his attention off of the wall and smile gently at you. With a little less delicacy than you, he takes the pencil and sticks it back where he had it before.

You watch him dig through the bag once more but for a longer period of time. He began brandishing brushes of varying sizes and shapes, before turning his head to look at you.

“Let me see what you drew,” he says to you simply.

You turn the sketchbook hesitantly, not really thinking about what you drew in the moment.

It was a sketch of some of the room you two occupied, of course lacking a couple small details you wouldn’t be able to replicate quite easily with the watercolors. Small things, like a distant book or a photo. A little to the left, just like he had been, was a portrait of Timur. Staring off in the distance for the sake of your privacy. He caught sight of it, smiling endearingly but not pressing the matter as he stood up. “I’ll be back.”

He disappeared into another portion of the room, and through Alex’s boisterous laugh you could hear cabinets open and the distant rummaging. He returns not a minute later, a few colors in his hands and a paint palette to go with it. He also had a water bottle tucked under his arm as well.

“Apologies,” he says quickly, putting everything down on a nearby surface.

“Nothing to apologize for, Timur. You weren’t even gone for a full minute.”

He chuckles a bit as he begins to delegate the colors that you would need, not bothering to mix them. You assumed that would be part of your lesson today.

You watch him carefully bring it over, putting it down within arms reach of you. “Which colors do you wish to mix first?”

You look down at the array of shades in front of you, pointing to the blues that he obviously had picked out for his eyes. “Those.” He nods and puts the colors in front of you. ““You must know what these are for. Go ahead and look at me, see how much you think you need of each shade and blend them together. Remember to add the light shade first, then the dark after.”

So you follow his instructions, peeling your gaze upward to stare into his frosty toned eyes. As much as this should have been constructive, you found yourself more distracted the longer you lingered. Little details of his popped out to you, like the scar on his iris, and you pulled your gaze away once you realized the hole that you were digging for yourself.

“Sorry, Timur, I can’t seem to focus,” you admitted,

“Need a bit of motivation on the matter?” he inquired.

You nod your head, looking back up at him to listen to what he would say. Any pointers that he would possibly give you to make this process any easier on you.

But all you could focus on now was his thumb and index finger pinching your chin, and his face drawing closer. You could feel his breath caress your face as he is now centimeters away.

Eventually, your lips met.

#timur glazkov #glaz #glaz imagine #rainbow six seige #r6s #reader insert #solari writes things

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himluv · 4 years

Text

The Whole World Changed

Happy Dragon 4ge Day! Here is a Solavellan oneshot for the prompt “Beginnings”.

Solas swung his staff and unleashed the well of frigid cold that had gathered in his chest. A jagged chunk of ice hurtled away from him and into the face of a shade. The spirit shrieked and writhed before collapsing away into the frozen earth. Still, after a year, it surprised him how much effort it took to call on his magic. Once it had been less than an after thought, an innate action like blinking.

But now, in the biting chill of the steppes of the Frostbacks, sweat streaked down his temple. Solas was wearing down. He couldn’t keep up fighting the demons and shades that continued to pour from the roiling green rift above them.

Behind him the sharp clack of Varric’s crossbow announced another deadly bolt hurtling across the battlefield. He turned in time to see the arrow find its mark in the head of a Rage demon.

“We can’t keep this up, Chuckles!” Varric hoisted his weapon and took aim, before releasing another bolt.

Solas spun his staff and gritted his teeth. “Just a moment longer.”

“If you say so.” The thunk and shriek of another bolt sinking into flesh.

He couldn’t explain to the dwarf why he believed Cassandra and the prisoner were close. His story about being a hapless wanderer, a self-made scholar of the Fade, was fragile enough. If he admitted that he could sense the mark in the prisoner’s hand drawing nearer, that the power thrummed and called to him, like a child lost in the fog, well…

Even he could not spin that tale in such a way that Varric Tethras, a notable storyteller in his own right, would believe.

He slung another barrage of ice at a shade as it materialized from the rift, but he could only assume his attack landed. The edges of his awareness went white, brighter than the sun reflecting off the snow, so bright that his eyes stung even though there was no visible light.

The prisoner stood atop the wall that directed the battlefield. Her mouth set in a hard line and her gaze dashing over the scene, scrutinizing and strategizing. Her dark hair was cut tight to the sides of her head, with just a fingers’ length on top. It contrasted with her pale, gently freckled skin to make her look almost ill.

Perhaps she was. She had nearly died after all, and with the Breach unstable she was surely in pain. All the more reason to hurry this along.

She dropped down into the snow and withdrew a plain, steel staff from behind her back. Solas had known she was a mage, of course. He’d spent so much time with her, keeping her alive against the fury of his own displaced magic, that he knew a startling amount about her body.

Especially considering he didn’t even know her name.

She swung her staff in a graceful figure-eight, slamming the butt of the weapon into the snow and calling down a series of lightning bolts to help clear the field.

“Quickly,” he shouted, taking her hand. “Before more come through.”

The mark hummed and pulsed at his touch, but she didn’t cry out. He marveled at how warm her skin was against his, at the shock that snapped at him. The remnants of her lightning energy, no doubt.

She didn’t pull away from him, didn’t demand answers. When he held her hand to the air and commanded the energy in her palm to commune with the rift, she watched with an almost sickly fascination. When the rift fought back, lashing out and drawing her in, she gritted her teeth and planted her feet.

But she never made a sound.

Solas found he was desperate to hear her voice. After long days and nights spent watching over her in those dim cells, seeing her washed in that green glow, her eyes a swirling mirror of the rift, he was utterly enchanted.

The rift closed with a crash, and she stared at her hand. It took him a moment to realize that his was still locked around her wrist. He released her immediately, and she blinked as if awaking from a spell.

“What did you do?” Her voice was gentle, a breeze rustling the springtime leaves in Arlathan. It was clear and cool, like stepping through an Eluvian for the very first time. It was prettier than he could have imagined.

He shrugged, feigning a nonchalance he did not feel. “I did nothing,” he said. It was a lie, of course. Without his gentle instruction, the mark would have flickered and throbbed, but never reached out to the rift. If she were clever, and if her magic proved powerful enough, she would continue to close the rifts as if by instinct. The mark knew its purpose now. His purpose.

He smiled at her, a little sheepishly. “The credit is yours.” He willed her to see him as nothing more than a lowly apostate, but she continued to watch him with wide green eyes that saw too much.

She closed her hand into a fist and then stretched it again. “You mean this?” She looked at the mark on her palm with curiosity and a flicker of pain. But not hatred. Not fear. Her dark green vallaslin, a testament to Dirthamen, made it plain to him that she was a spy, and her magic buzzed in a subtle layer around her skin.

A dangerous woman indeed.

He took a step closer to her, his face animated as warmth blossomed on his cheeks. “Whatever magic opened the breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake,” he grinned, “and it seems I was correct.”

“Meaning it could also close the Breach itself,” Cassandra said.

He glanced at the Seeker, struggling to keep his tone neutral. “Possibly.” He returned his attention to the elf before him and a wry smile twisted at his mouth. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

She frowned at that, a delicate crease forming between her black brows. She was uncomfortable with the spotlight, it seemed. More evidence for his spy theory.

Varric interrupted then, in typical Tethras fashion. With drama and crass language, and a noble effort to get under the Seeker’s skin. Once the banter became fairly specific, the elf turned back to face him.

“My name is Solas,” he said, “if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live.”

She tilted her head, but there was no confusion in her eyes.

“He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept,’” Varric said.

“Is that so?” She pursed her lips, her expression owlish and endearing. Like a child determined to solve a particularly complicated puzzle. “You seem to know a great deal about it all.”

Warning bells rang in Solas’ head, but before he could backtrack or cover his competence with a convenient lie, Cassandra spoke.

“Like you, Solas is an apostate.”

It took considerable effort not to roll his eyes. “Technically, all mages are apostates now, Cassandra.” It wasn’t that he disliked the Seeker. She was an honest, devoted, and hard-working woman. But she was also righteous and devout, which made her a threat to not only his plans, but potentially his life.

He turned his attention back to the elf. “My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade,” he said. “Far beyond the experience of any Circle Mage.”

A sudden hunger leapt up like flames in her eyes. She looked him up and down, weighing his words against his appearance, measuring him as he had measured her these past few days.

“I come to offer whatever help I can with the Breach. If it is not closed, then we are all doomed, regardless of origin.”

She was surprised at that, which was understandable. The Dalish were hardly known for their neighborly attitudes towards the humans. And the city elves were little better than slaves. Very few elves would sacrifice to help in the struggles of man. And yet, here he was, in the lion’s den.

So much for blending in.

She looked over his shoulder at the furious, roiling sea of green in the sky. She sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”

She turned toward the faint trail that led down to a frozen lake, following Varric and Cassandra as they continued to argue. She paused at the top of the path and waited for him to draw even with her.

“Riallan,” she said. “First of Clan Lavellan of the Free Marches.” She blushed, the faintest blossom of color on her cheeks. “Thank you for all your help.”

They watched each other for a moment and then he nodded. “A pleasure to meet you, Riallan.” Then he stepped down the trail and hurried to join the others before they walked into more trouble. It took a moment, but he heard her feet crunch through the snow as she chased after him.

It brought a smile to his face.

#dragonageday #dragon age day #dai #solavellan #Riallan Lavellan #dragon age day 2019 #it's my birthday!#and I get to celebrate my FAVE video game franchise???#whaaaaaaaa?#best day ever!

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creator-zee · 4 years

Text

159

Her face was covered by a thin breathable piece of fabric pulled up past her nose. It was just thick enough to stay black and not let any of the color of her skin shine through. She had a hood pulled up over that cast the feast of her face into shadow that wasn’t already covered by the black cloth. The hood itself was a dark green that matched the clothes she wore under her simple armor and. The armor and the boots she wore were leather, so they were brown, but a dark shade that blended with her clothes. I saw two daggers strapped to each leg, and I was sure she had more strapped elsewhere, but it was hard to make out in the poorly lit tavern.

“What do you need?” She asked, straight to the point.

I laughed a little, raising my eyebrow. “What makes you think I need something?”

She raised her one eyebrow. “You only ask to meet when you need something.”

“That’s not always true.” I pouted, but her eyebrow remained up, so I relented letting my face return to normal. “I have a small problem with the name of Lord Varnen.”

“What did you do now?” She asked, almost bored.

I gave her an affronted look. “What do you mean ‘now?’” She gave me a look and I quickly amended. “Never mind. We don’t need to get into that. Anyways I may or may not have gone on a midnight ride with his daughter.”

“Are you insane?” She hissed, glancing around subtlety. “She’s engaged to the Prince. As in the Prince, the Prince of Saldon, the kingdom that we live in.”

I withered under her harsh gaze and angry tone despite having a good few inches on her. She did a lot with her small stature.

“She’s pretty okay, and I happened to see her in a tavern and we got to talking.” I rambled. “I didn’t think anyone would see us.”

“She’s engaged to the Prince.” She repeated, chastising. “No one is going to let anyone happen to her, she always has eyes on her. When will you stop chasing women you can’t have and just settle down with someone in your own league. There are plenty of hot warrior women - okay, maybe not plenty, but still. You’re hot you shouldn’t have so much trouble finding someone who isn’t already engaged and to the fucking prince.”

“You did not need to come here and attack me like this.” I argued back, but it was weak and we both knew that.

“Don’t I?” She asked. “How many messes do I have to dig you out of before you learn your lesson? You have the Prince’s future father-in-law on your tail.”

I didn’t have a response. She was right.

She shook her head, sighing softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with it... again.”

“Thank you.” I called after her as she turned away and headed out of the tavern.

Other POV

I couldn’t believe Shan. She just couldn’t resist messing around with noble’s daughters. I saw the temptation, don’t get me wrong, but she risked so much, and for what? I forbidden romance. I swung up on my horse’s back, urged her into a lope and set down the road leading to the woods where Lord Varnen had his mansion. It wasn’t a far ride, and I made it just as the sun was setting. I slowed Nora to a walk, letting her cool down as I rode past the lodge. I would leave her in a hidden spot in the woods before sneaking in on foot.

As I left Nora in the woods after loosening her girth and slipping her bridle off and hanging it on her saddle to make her more comfortable I wondered, yet again why I was bothering to help Shan. And, as always, I came to the conclusion that I always did. Because I liked her more than I had any need too, and couldn’t say no to her, even if it meant cleaning up her failed romantic adventures.

I walked back towards the lodge, slowing as I approached the wall. I climbed a nearby tree and waited for the guards to pass. I jumped from the tree to the top of the wall, before then dropping over the other edge of the wall, and running across the open space before pressing up against the wall to the actual lodge. I jumped up, grabbing onto the wall and beginning to climb before the guards came back around. I made it to the window, pulling myself up on the ledge, pulling the window open and slinking inside.

I shut it behind me as I saw the guards passing by. My eyes scanned the room and I found Lord Varnen sleeping. I crept towards his sleeping form, a dagger in my hand. I pressed my hand over his mouth as I held a blade to his throat. I waited for his eyes to fling open in shock, but that never happened. I repressed a groan, stupid deep sleepers.

I kneed him in the sighed and then his eyes flew open in shock and then quickly fear.

“I suggest that you forget the identity of who your daughter spent that night with or this blade will go through your throat.” I threatened, and he nodded frantically.

“Good.” I said. “Now stay quiet. We wouldn’t want my hand to slip on accident.”

He nodded again, a bit more mindful of the dagger at his throat. I stood up, and slipped back out the window, climbing up onto the roof. Funny how much Noble’s prized their own lives. I mean the rumors of an assassin in the kingdom that no one could catch probably didn’t help matters, but that just worked for me.

I smiled slightly as I jumped off the roof, onto the wall and off the wall, heading back to Nora. So what if that assassin was me. There were a lot of people that needed to die for various reasons. Maybe if people would stop selling their children away for political gain and exploiting their citizens they would stop dying.

I found Nora again, getting her ready to ride again, before heading back to the town that I knew Shan worked as a town guard in. I arrived in the middle of the night, and after stowing Nora in the woods, untacked in a secluded clearing to grace, I found Nora on duty. I climbed up the wall and snuck up behind her, just standing there, slightly behind her and slightly to her right.

I smiled slightly when she finally noticed me, jumping back to avoid the spear jabbing towards me.

“You little devil, Z.” She hissed. “How long have you been there?”

I didn’t answer. “Just came to tell you that your problem as been taken care of.”

“Already?” She gasped, surprised.

I nodded.

“Thank you. I really owe you this time.” She said.

I couldn’t stop the scoff from escaping my mouth. She said that every time, and yet she never paid me back. And, yet I still came to her every call. Man, I was helpless.

“Let me treat you to drinks.” She offered, as if that was equal. Even as I was irritated and I still wanted to accept, except for the minor detail that I had a real job waiting for me and I never let anyone see my face. That meant no eating or drinking.

“Sorry, I have to refuse. I have a job waiting for me. Asshole nobles aren’t going to kill themselves.” I joked, before disappearing over the wall again, leaving Shan alone to keep watch.

Shan’s POV

Lily paused, her hands on the edge of my shirt. “Are you sure this is okay? What if someone catches us? Will you be okay?”

I nodded. “Of course. I have a friend who helps me out.”

“Well in that case.” She smiled and pulled my shirt over my head.

...

I was pinned, naked against the floor as a guard shackled me. The lord stood at the door to the room, arms crossed.

“Finally got you. Now you can stop corrupting the fine women of this kingdom.” He smirked, as the guards dragged me out of the room and into a cell before throwing some rags at me, and taking my shackles off. Well, crap. This wasn’t good. Hopefully, Z could get me out. She seemed to have a knack for helping get me out of tricky situations.

Sure enough, a shadow peeled itself off the wall the next night and picked the lock to my cell, leading me out of the cell and out of the town. It was only when we were back into the woods that she turned to me and spoke.

“Really Shan? Two weeks. Two weeks since the scandal with the Prince’s fiance and you’re already trying your luck again, and you got arrested this time. I won’t always be able to save you.” She chastised, and as she talked she stumbled slightly and leaned against a tree, one hand pressed tightly against her side.

“But, you always save me.” I argued.

She grunted slightly before responding. “Take your chances then, I’m warning you.”

“Are you saying that you are stopping helping me?” I asked, accusingly. “But, you always help me. Why stop? Are you abandoning me?”

“No, what I’m saying,” She paused to draw a breath, it sounded pained, “is that I’m fucking injured.”

She raised her hand from where it had been pressed across her side and I saw that it was wet with blood.

“What? When?” I asked, concerned, stepping forwards.

She stepped back from me. “When I was doing an actual job. It happens. A guard walks a bit faster, and sees me and then I get in a fight. Normally, I have time to rest and heal before my next job, but as soon as I paid off the client I heard that a Noble had captured the lady running around and corrupting the fine women of this kingdom. I knew it was you, so I rushed off to help you escape.”

“You didn’t have to.” I quickly said, hovering awkwardly.

“Oh, really? I didn’t have to.” She snorted, before turning away from me. “Well, in that case I won’t. Fix your own problems Shan. I’m done helping you without acknowledgment all because of a stupid crush.”

She disappeared into the shadows, leaving me stupefied. Was she really going to leave? Did she really have a crush on me? Had I pushed her too far?

...

No one rescued me the next time, I was thrown in a work camp on the far northern end of the kingdom that was covered in snow. I realized at the end of the first year, that Z really wasn’t coming for me this time. I realized when a new prisoner was thrown in that I would never know if she would’ve come, because the shadow assassin that had been plaguing the kingdom for years had finally been captured.

The camp was filled with excited whispers wondering what her fate was going to be, while I was just left with a sort of dread. News of her death came later, and I wondered if the ache in my chest at her lose would ever go away. I really never realized how much I relied on her. She had always been there, and then she just wasn’t.

#dark #death #injury #assassin #writing #alternating POV #not edited

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kukiwi · 5 years

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Bad Company

Series: Kingdom Hearts Pairing: Riku / Ienzo Rating: M Summary: Ienzo doesn't know what it's like to have friends much less how to make them. Perhaps he's lucky that day he runs into Vanitas. Sometimes a person just doesn't know what they need until it slams right into them and threatens to beat them to a pulp. A/N: For the beautiful and most amazing @mis-kitty ;w; Tysm dear <3 <3 Also On: AO3 || FFN

Alone even when he has people rushing around him that are constantly making sure he has everything thing he needs and that he's alright. It's something Ienzo has been since his parents died. Rather, perhaps even more that. He's not quite sure and doesn't care to really think about it.

He's lucky though! At least that's what he hears everyone whisper when he's allowed to go to the store with his siblings or anywhere really. He's just always lucky to have them. Even Isa tells him how fortunate he is that Aqua has taken up the mantel of making sure they didn't get split up.

Even though it's only possible because of the small fortune their parents left behind for them. Unlike most they made sure that no matter what that there would be safety nets for their children no matter what or when. Especially considering how much travel they always did.

Ienzo would trade all of that to have them back. Trade everything to know what is going on and why every day feels like he's just drifting in and out of consciousness. Every single day blends together in his young twelve year old brain. Nothing makes sense and yet he stores is all in the shelves of his mind.

From home to school back to home. There's no friends or extracurriculars. He's exhausted just from having to do that much. Yet angry that he's where he is. So furious that he's treated like he's a baby and can do nothing for himself. That is aside from the homework he brings home.

Of course Ienzo wants friends. Every kid does. But he can't seem to find any common ground with any of them. And certainly not now that no one knows how to approach him since he's been gone a week to mourn. Then again, this special school for "genius" intellect isn't exactly thriving in social skills or how to develop them. It's all about being the smartest and pampering each child so that they can go onto the best things.

It's not the kind of atmosphere Ienzo wants. Yet he's told it's what he needs. To be placed in a tiny box with his name labeled on the front. Despite his young age he's already thinking far too ahead. Further than any child should and the fear and doubt that bubble up inside of him every day only continues to grow.

He just wants to have some fun.

Which is exactly why he's staring at his feet as he stands outside of the large pristine school's steps. Ienzo smooths his hands down the front of his gray blazer with the white and dark red emblem. He knows very well what he's supposed to do when he misses the small bus used to take the sports kids home. As well as though that have stayed late.

But Ienzo has made sure to stay even later than that. If only by a few minutes he's managed to miss the bus and has decided not to call either of his siblings to see if he can get a ride soon. Oh no. He's more than determined to make it home all on his own.

This idea isn't something he planned. It simply fell into his lap since one of his teachers asked him to stay to discuss what he plans to do about his project since he hadn't turned in a thesis. Rather, he had forgot it at home.

It's simply the perfect storm. Or as Ienzo sees it, opportunity.

Still, he's having problems with taking the first step. Resisting the urge to pull his backpack around and dig out the small phone Aqua bestowed upon is harder than he ever thought. He shouldn't worry them, the only family he has left, but he can't keep the rebellion inside of him at bay.

Desire to have other experiences, to prove he's capable - he just has to have it.

Ienzo knows his way home. He watches the roads and the signs. Not to mention Aqua made sure of it. Better to know just in case, she always says. He takes a deep breath as he finally steps onto the sidewalk and makes that fateful turn. The one that has him treading away from the school.

The nerves in his stomach are nonexistent for the sole reason that he's determined. If can get home on his own then maybe Isa will ease up on him. Just maybe.

Every step has him closer to his home and more determined than before. That is until he comes to a crossroad where he's not sure which way to take. He knows it's right or left. Ienzo bites at the inside of his cheek and glances both ways. The long slate colored hair draping over the right side of his face sways against his cheek.

The wrong way and he'll be lost.

Left.

Ienzo makes the split second decision and quickly marches on, the way that avoids him having to cross the street with the crowd that's waiting for the light. This way he can keep moving. Not that he attracts any attention as it is. No one so much as glances his way.

This bothers Ienzo as well. It's nothing new that no one notices him or reaches out. Even if he tries it tends to not last long. He's just not sure what he's doing wrong. It all becomes more apparent when he comes across a small playground with kids of all ages running around while some parents watch from the sidelines. Even a few older teens are there, surely having to keep up with their siblings.

Everyone seems to be having fun despite the chill in the air that makes Ienzo's nose become red. He looks on, observing quietly from the sidewalk.

So easy… it just looks so easy to have friends.

But his interests aren't the same as anyone he's talked to. Sure he's good at almost all of his subjects but that isn't his hobby. It's not his desire. It's not… fun. He's just not sure about anything right now.

Now the way those kids race through the playground and howl at each other doesn't particularly spark anything in Ienzo either. But it does have a small smile touching his round face. He licks at his lips and tilts his head, craning his neck to see more of the jungle gym fashioned in a large train around the area.

It's the lack of any purpose for the tomfoolery that resounds inside of Ienzo. All of that left the day his parents died. Perhaps slightly before that if he thinks hard enough. His older brother and sister try. But lately they're never together except for dinner. Unless Aqua manages a day off.

"Hey there."

Ienzo starts, taking a step back as his eyes widen. Bright sapphire stare straight through the boy in front of him. So caught up in his thoughts Ienzo never heard or saw him coming. The other child smiles cheerfully and holds out a piece of candy in the prettiest magenta wrapping that Ienzo has ever seen.

"Are you lost? Or did you wanna come and play?"

Still he can only stare. He's conflicted and curious. But most of all he's a tad enraptured by those large blue-green eyes that actually look at him. Never mind the white hair or the impossibly bright yellow t-shirt. Ienzo is in awe just with the boy's smile. At least that is until the smile shrinks a little and brows pinch upward in concern.

"You okay?" He tilts his head to the side, bending down slightly to get a different angle on Ienzo. "Can you talk?"

"I…" Ienzo glances off to the side as his phone rings. The vibrations seep through the bag and into his back. He knows he'd better answer, and soon, or there will surely be hell to pay.

That's when the boy notices the mark on Ienzo's jacket. His mouth forms a small 'o' while he straightens back up. "You must be from that fancy school! I'm glad we don't have uniforms, that must be weird to wear the same thing… every day?"

The boy trails off as Ienzo quickly removes his backpack, "I'm fine. Thanks."

He turns on his heel but the boy won't let him leave so easily. He grabs for Ienzo hand and in that split second of contact he presses the candy against Ienzo's palm. It doesn't stop Ienzo though, he merely keeps moving until he's well away from the playground and that boy. The one that made his heart thump loudly in his ears.

Once he calms down enough he drops the candy in his bag, but only after looking at it and wondering why the boy bothered, and grabs out the cell phone. It's nothing fancy like some of the others kids in his class have. Although it does exactly what it's intended to do.

Call Aqua.

It barely has a chance to ring before her voice comes to life, "Ienzo? Ienzo, where are you?"

"I'm on my way home."

"Did you miss the bus? Where are you now? I'll come pick you up."

Her frantic tone has Ienzo's heart dropping into his stomach. The last thing he wanted to do was worry her. "I just passed the playground. I'm okay though, really."

"I'll be right there, don't move and stay on the phone with me okay?"

"Okay."

He steps out of the way of some adults so they can pass by him and resigns himself to waiting. He can only hope his brother didn't come with her. Ienzo knows he'll make a big deal out of this too. No different than when he wandered off to get more napkins at the movie theater last weekend.

It's not very long before the small white car that he knows very well comes to a stop before him. The driver's door swings open and Aqua practically tumbles out with how she ends up kneeling before Ienzo. Her hands are all over him trying to make sure he's not hurt anywhere.

"Aqua…" She doesn't take notice until he huffs, "Aqua, stop."

She hesitates, mouth agape and eyes worried as she stares up at him. Her short cerulean hair brushes about her face as the wind picks up again. Her gaze, an identical shade to his own, looks up at him with nothing but concern. There's only love in the way she suddenly reaches forward and wraps her arms around him, pulling him close.

"I'm sorry. We can talk about it when we get you home."

"Yeah…"

Ienzo knows very well what that means. He's not out of the frying pan yet. In fact, when Aqua finally pulls away and gets back into the car Ienzo can finally get in as well. Only to realize he's jumping right into the fire when he sees Isa in the back seat also. He doesn't dare say a word and merely climbs in, shutting the door and cradling his book bag on his lap.

It's his safety harness, tethering him to a place where he won't get that look from his older brother. The one that says he's disappointed. The one that says that Ienzo should have known better because he's not a child yet he is. However, Ienzo is surprised. Isa is quiet the entire drive home. One that's filled with furtive glances over at his brother. He can never tell what he's thinking or feeling.

Once they're home and all safely inside the single floor house does Isa finally speak up. Ienzo can barely get his shoes off before Isa is turning curtly on the heel of his sneakers. He's intimidating solely on the fact that he's taller and the way his blue hair frames in his green eyes only forces Ienzo to look at them all the more.

"Why didn't you call if you missed the bus? Something could have happened."

He never truly raises his voice. Not that he has to. It's the calm anger that has fearful nerves knotting up in Ienzo's stomach. Isa is only fifteen, Aqua only two years more than that, and yet to Ienzo at this very moment it feels like more. He feels tiny and insignificant. To the point where nothing he says will make any difference.

"I… I know the way home."

"Obviously you don't. What if someone had run off with you? You scared us to death doing that."

Aqua reaches out, placing her hand on Isa's shoulder. It calms him immediately. Rather he resigns back into silence so that Aqua and step forward. She gives a reassuring smile to Ienzo, one that helps settle him back into a sense of security. At least a little.

"We're not… mad. We're just worried about you. The three of us is all that's left, we have to look out for each other. Don't you agree?"

Ienzo stares down at how his fingers tightly clench onto his backpack. He gives a small nod.

"So, to make sure we know we're all safe and sound after school I'll always come and pick you up okay? And when Isa can do it and I can't then we'll let you know." Aqua stands up and gives him a stern look, "Just don't ever do that again. Not when you can call one of us."

He tries not to seem frustrated or guilty even. He just keeps his gaze down even as she pats him on the head. "Come on, let's get some dinner and we can do our homework together."

0-0-0

Ienzo's pre-teen years are no different. In fact, very little has changed in two years. The only difference is that he's gotten a bit taller and now Isa is the one that primarily retrieves him after school since Aqua is working. Even though their parents left them a nice little nest egg didn't mean anything to her. It won't last forever after all.

However, Aqua and Isa are very aware that the thing that truly won't sustain is Ienzo doing as he's told. School is the only thing they don't concern themselves with. Ienzo is always at the top of his class and working towards getting into a bigger field if he wants it later on. He's impressed many.

Yet there's still a part of him that aches to be recognized by his siblings. Enough to be able to go down the street to the corner store and back. He's fourteen, he should be able to at least pull that off without worry or so he believes. Ienzo has attempted to try and do things out of favor with this guardians.

Not calling when he's ready to be picked up or even answering his phone on the first try. They aren't very rebellious in theory but it's enough to show he's trying to push away.

However, for a few weeks he's been slipping out when he's left home alone. It's nothing big. Just down to the corner and back. But today is different. Ienzo sits on the couch reading a book when Isa walks over to him.

"Any homework tonight?"

"No, I finished it all in class. Were are you going?"

Isa gives a smile, a petite one that's heartwarming to say the least. "Meeting up with a friend. We have a project to finish and he forgot his notes about it at school."

Ienzo raises a brow, "Do I need to do anything about dinner then?"

"No," Isa begins as he strides over to the door with his bag on his shoulder. "Aqua will be home in time. Don't make any trouble for her while I'm gone."

Ienzo bites back the retort he wants to give and instead fashions another. "I'll see you later then."

The second the door shuts after Isa leaves he feels a little more free. He jumps up and rushes over to his room. Of course he doesn't bother changing out of his clothes. That'd take too long. Instead he grabs his wallet and his phone while throwing a note onto the kitchen counter before rushing out the door as well. Although he is careful to give Isa enough time to get some distance away.

Heart pounding in his ears and excitement rushing through his veins, Ienzo can barely help himself. He's happy. Everything feels so empty lately that even that the smallest amount of outside stimulant has his palms sweaty and a smile on his face. He did make sure to leave the message in case Aqua gets home prior to him. He's not sure if she'd believe he's with friends but they don't ask much about any relationships anyway.

There's a place his parents used to take them to now and then, just as a treat, that has priority today. Well past the corner store in this tiny neighborhood and out onto the larger streets he goes. It's not very far away, close enough to walk to even.

Frozen Delight.

The small ice cream store is the best in this part of the city. Although Ienzo is a bit biased considering it's the only one that sells certain flavors; specifically sea salt. All he has to do to get to it is round one more corner. So close he can practically taste it already.

Thud!

Ienzo stumbles back after slamming straight into someone else coming from that direction. The person in question yells as he nearly falls backward as well save for the friend that grabs onto his shoulders. A little disoriented, Ienzo looks up to see a very disgruntled dark haired teen with bright golden eyes. To say he's fuming is an understatement and Ienzo knows better than to anger someone, especially someone that Isa would deem bad company.

The teen looks friendly aside from the angry look on his face. He merely dresses far different than anyone else Ienzo has ever met. From the black jeans with rips and restitching down the fronts to the matching tank top and dark red jacket drooping off one shoulder. Then again, Ienzo can't take his eyes off the thick boots that stomp over to where he's picking himself back up.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?"

"Vanitas…" the boy behind him starts, trying to curb his fury.

"Nah-uh, this brat just ruined my ice cream. I don't just let that go!"

The much taller redhead behind this Vanitas rolls his eyes — eyes that glimmer like emeralds. He places his hands on his hips. "I can buy you another one. Come on, if we don't hurry Larxene will yell again."

But Vanitas is paying him no mind. He's already up in Ienzo's personal space and despite being just a hair shorter he doesn't seem like it. Not when a fist curls into the front of Ienzo's blazer. He's so focused on Vanitas and the glare he's getting that he doesn't even notice the look that the other teen gives him. Those green eyes widen slightly — just enough as he realizes something.

"Sorry, I didn't see you coming."

"Sorry is not cutting it punk! You're going to buy me another one for that or you'll get a-"

"Hey, Vanitas," the redhead says as he slings an arm over the mentioned boy's shoulders. "I think we should get a little more than just ice cream."

"Eh? Lea, this is my prey or do you not get it. He screwed up my-"

Vanitas finds himself staggering to the side as Lea tilts his head, trying to meet Ienzo's eyes — rather his visible one. "Ya know, you probably shouldn't go out on the town in your uniform." Lea taps his knuckles against the emblem of Ienzo's school blatantly on the front. "Gives you away."

Ienzo raises an eyebrow, "How so? It's just a school logo." He glances over to Vanitas, trying to remain calm even though he's freaking out inside. "I can buy you another. I really do apologize."

"So what's a prep mouse doing out and about anyway? Don't you have homework?"

Returning his attention to Lea, Ienzo sighs. "You should to unless you'd rather be in school the rest of your life."

Lea's eye twitches but it doesn't matter. Vanitas heard what he wants, it almost has him snickering. He pushes Lea away and grabs Ienzo's wrist, "Ignore the flagpole and let's go get my ice cream."

He rushes to catch up. Which isn't hard considering Lea is taller than both of them. "Wait, wait, wait!" He skids to a stop in front of them with his hands out to force them to do as he says. "I'll buy the damn ice cream if he takes that jacket off. Don't wanna get any looks from people."

Ienzo is about to ask when Vanitas lets go of him. "Hurry up, kid."

"I'm not a kid."

"Yeah, whatever."

Removing his jacket, Ienzo throws it over his arm and allows Vanitas to lead him over to the door of the shop. Lea goes in and it leaves the two of them alone. Something Ienzo isn't too thrilled about. Yet, he's surprised when Vanitas glances over at him before quickly looking away.

"What's your name?"

"Ienzo."

"Heh, so are you some goody-goody that does what Mommy and Daddy say?"

Ienzo looks down at his feet. He's not sure what to say to that. It makes his heart ache to even think about. He does have people he still answers to in that regard. But the original two — the ones that meant the world to him, the ones that were his indestructible heroes — are gone.

Vanitas must notice the way Ienzo's eyes glaze over. In fact, he's about to say something — more than likely tactless — when footsteps near them. Footsteps that bring four friends laughing and chatting as they get closer. No matter how much Vanitas wants to reply he can't help but send a glare at the blond that speaks low, although Vanitas still hears him.

"Maybe we should wait till they leave."

A cruel smirk carves onto Vanitas's countenance as he turns, hands sheathing into his pockets. "I guess the geek squad likes ice cream too. Well and Roxas too."

Roxas, the blond with spiky hair and fierce blue eyes, marches up to Vanitas. He stops short and instead reaches for the door. "I still get better grades than you. Aren't you failing science?"

Vanitas's eye twitches. He hears enough of that from his parents. It doesn't help that Roxas is his lab partner either. Exhaling through his nose, Vanitas is about to let a string of curses, perhaps even a response, leave his lips when Lea opens the door. It forces Roxas to step back to the rest of this friends.

None of them truly catch Ienzo's eye. Not the way the one in the back does. He's taller and looks just like the little boy he met two years ago. He doesn't know his name but he's seen him around since then. Aside from different clothes he looks the same, so much that Ienzo has to tear his eyes away. Although, it's not before the object of his attention notices.

"Come on, can't we just get along and have ice cream," Lea says as he holds one out toward one of the girls.

She smiles and brushes some of her short black hair behind one ear. In fact, she's about to reach out for it when Roxas steps in front of her. "We can buy our own ice cream unlike you."

Lea merely shrugs and instead hands it to Vanitas. "Then can we get out of here? Don't wanna keep them waiting."

Vanitas huffs and begins to walk back down the street, backwards at that, and Ienzo wonders how he hasn't run into people all the time. "Hah! Don't eat too much they might kick you off the soccer team small fry!"

Ushering Ienzo along, Lea tries to get them as far away as possible before Vanitas pops like a balloon in a room of needles. But if there's one thing that Roxas always gets with Vanitas it's the last word.

"You're shorter than me, five foot three!"

That's all it takes. Lea hands the bag of ice cream pops to Ienzo and grabs for Vanitas. He spins the dark haired teen around and pushes him away — anything to get them to round the corner. In the distance, as Ienzo is the last in the little train, he can hear the dark haired girl sigh.

"Why can't you two get along, he's your brother after all."

Ienzo picks up his pace and rushes to keep up with Lea. Which happens to be a lot harder than it looks. Once they come to a stop a street and a half away, Ienzo returns the bag to Lea. "Roxas is your brother?"

Vanitas glares at him, "Yeah. And so are the other two goody-goodies. Three hellspawns that are beyond perfect."

Lea grins wide as he takes out an ice cream and hands it to Ienzo. "He's better at other things. Like pissing people off." Without hesitation Vanitas punches Lea on the arm. "Oh! And math."

"Math?" Ienzo says as he raises a brow. "I could help you with your science-"

"I don't need anybody's help!"

Laughing like a madman, Lea claps Ienzo on the back. It's not very hard but with enough force to have Ienzo taking a step forward. "You might want to be careful."

Just as Ienzo is about to open the ice cream he can feel his phone vibrating in his back pocket. A sigh slips from his lips as he reaches back, pulling it out. Lea quickly swipes it from him but he doesn't answer like Ienzo expects him to. After he rejects the call, Lea cycles through the commands and swiftly inputs his number.

"Wh-What are you doing?"

Lea smiles down at Ienzo and hands it back, "Text or call me if you wanna hang out. Got it memorized?" The confusion on Ienzo's face is well worth it. Lea chuckles, "I put Vanitas's number in there too. Besides I could use the study help."

Vanitas glares, "You should ask before you give away my number. Might lose a hand doing crap like that."

"Yeah, yeah I hear you over there." Lea leans in close, whispering into Ienzo's ear. "He's like a cat. Get on his good side and he'll stick to you."

"Hey! What did you just say to him!" Vanitas is about to walk over when Lea meets him half way. "I mean it, I'll kill you if you're making fun of me again."

Once they're down the corner Ienzo dials back the only person who would call him; Aqua. It doesn't even really ring. She answers immediately, "Ienzo? Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I was at the store. I'll be home in a minute."

"Okay, I'll be there about the same time then. Just wait for me and I'll help with dinner. Love you, see you soon."

"Love you too."

Ienzo hangs up the phone and slips it into his pocket once more. The way home isn't anything other than bliss. Eating as he goes, Ienzo feels a little pleased with how this turned out. At least now he has an honest excuse when he says he's going to hang out with friends.

Not that he's entirely sure about this. Then again anything is better than nothing. And from the sound of it he'll be seeing plenty more of those others in the future as well.

0-0-0

Aqua smiles over at him as she sets down the smoothie in front of him. She's taken up quite the interest in blending whatever fruit she can get her hands on. However, she'll never hear any complaints from Ienzo. There hasn't been one batch that he hasn't liked.

Ienzo glances over at his phone as it chimes a few times. He takes a sip and puts his book down, settling for grabbing his phone instead. Glancing up at Aqua, he tips the drink toward her. "This one is the best so far."

She claps her hands together, "I'll make sure I get more strawberries then."

The text isn't one he expects. Sure he's been hanging out with Lea and Vanitas lately, not to mention the other two. Well save for Larxene. He's met her in passing but hasn't gotten the chance to truly meet her. The past few weeks have gone rather well and none of them make him feel unwanted. Each is a little rough around the edges but so is Ienzo. He feels happy being around them.

It's never dull at least.

"Hey, Aqua?"

"Hm?"

"May I have a couple friends over?"

Aqua thinks on it for a moment, crossing her arms over her white blouse. "Well… I don't see why not since you don't have any homework." She strides around the counter, the heels of her light brown ankle boots clicking and clacking against the tile. "If you need me I'll be in my room."

As she walks away there's a chorus of knocks on the door. It has her stopping with a smile and deciding to get it for Ienzo. Except the friends she expects to see definitely aren't what she imagined they'd be. Nor that they'd be here so soon.

Vanitas is no different than usual. His clothing is in tatters in many places and his nails are colored a dark red. Not to mention the two piercings on his left brow. The much taller boy beside him, Demyx, is less of a threat visually. He looks rather plain save for the way he styles his dirty blond hair and the small dot of a nostril piercing.

"Oh hey! You must be Aqua!" Demyx beams as he reaches out a hand. Aqua doesn't know what to do other than to meet it, allowing him to vigorously shake her hand. "We've been trying to come over and say hi forever now."

"Ah, it's nice to meet you both."

Ienzo is by her side in the next second and gives Demyx a look, one that says he's overdoing it again. Demyx only laughs while Vanitas scoffs. Gesturing to each in turn, Ienzo introduces them both. "That's Vanitas and this is Demyx."

Aqua takes a step back and begins toward her room, "Well, feel free to make yourselves at home. Ienzo, if you need anything-"

"I know."

She gives a final smile toward him, happy he has friends he can have fun with, and leaves him to do just that. As for Ienzo, he knows better. Once she turns into the hallway to her room at the back of the house he raises a brow. "Why are you two really here?"

Demyx scoffs, feigning pain. "I'm hurt, Ienzo. We just wanted to see you."

Ienzo turns and makes his way back to the kitchen. Of course his friends follow with the sound of the front door shutting in their wake. Ienzo sits back down on the barstool he was on, piling his things together in front of himself on the small island in the middle of the kitchen. Vanitas hops up to sit on it next to Ienzo while Demyx is too busy looking about.

Leaning back, Vanitas grins. "If I go home Roxas is just going to yell at me for doing the project wrong. Let him do it himself if he's so smart."

"What about Lea?"

Vanitas raises an eyebrow, "What about him?"

Ienzo can't help but sigh. At least until his eyes catch onto something shiny, something that shouldn't be at that. Though, Vanitas does keep talking which is exactly what Ienzo is hoping he'll do.

"He's with Larxene. Something about pianos and I'd rather not have to follow her around while she looks at 'em." He swings his legs back and forth as he talks. "I was expecting some place that was super fancy. This is kinda…"

"Normal." Demyx finishes as he returns from rummaging around. "Got any soda?"

Ienzo nods, "Back of the fridge."

"Score!"

It's the fact that Ienzo never takes his eyes off of Vanitas's mouth which gives him away. Vanitas means nothing by it but he can't resist leaning forward until his face is right in front of Ienzo's. His fingers curl against the counter, keeping himself steady, as he does. "Like my face or something?"

A light tinge of pink dusts over his cheeks. Ienzo fights it back and shakes his head. To Vanitas it's far too easy. The back and forth between them is usually nonexistent anyway. He'd rather not listen to the lectures that Ienzo can give should get started on a subject.

This is why he opens his mouth, showing off the small little ball resting on the middle of his tongue. Just as quick as he gives it he takes it back, "Curious?"

"Didn't that hurt?"

"Hah! Not at all! Were you thinking of getting one?" The dramatic shake of Ienzo's head has Vanitas bursting with laughter. "You don't have to get one like mine. Hmm, maybe the ears?"

"Can I… see it again?"

Demyx glances over from where he's poured himself some grape soda. Vanitas leans forward once more and sticks out his tongue. It's just then that the door clicks shut and Isa is suddenly standing in the open threshold to the kitchen. His eyes widen as he looks on, unsure about the characters that are with his little brother.

"What's going on?"

Ienzo doesn't even turn around. He keeps his back to his brother as long as he can lest he lose his nerve entirely. "Aqua said I could have some friends over."

"I see… and she is?"

"Her room."

Isa quietly takes his leave, obviously wanting to go verify this and these other two boys as quickly as possible. Especially if it means he can kick them out before they taint Ienzo further. Little does he know it's too late. The small tastes of freedom these new friends have given him is more than enough to have him try exploring who he is and not what he's meant to be.

Ienzo gives a hum of thought, "Maybe an earring wouldn't be so bad."

Vanitas laughs again while Demyx walks over. The blond smiles wide, "You know what, you haven't even met Larxene yet when he's not rushing around. I think it's about time." Demyx leans against the counter. "I think maybe she could help you with that."

"What?"

"The piercing. She knows the lady that does it."

Vanitas grins, "Hey, you two wanna go grab some ice cream?"

"I'll pass."

They both look at Ienzo, a little disappointed but knowing full well why. Vanitas chuckles as they head to the door. "Try not to upset your guard dog too much. We'll steal you away next time."

0-0-0

Meeting Larxene all those months ago helped change Ienzo a little. There's just something about the blond that demands everyone that's around her to be the best of their own self. She doesn't tolerate cookie cutter anything. Differences are what she thrives on. Well, that and poking fun at Demyx. But that's only because he's more than certainly the smartest out of them all. Hidden intellect, Ienzo calls it.

Isa didn't, and still doesn't, agree with Ienzo hanging out with them. However, Aqua is more forgiving. Her only stipulation is that Ienzo keeps his grades up. He's even found something he's interested in. Still, he's not sure biochemistry is truly something he wants to pursue. Which is why he thrives in the hours after school or on the weekends that he can be with his friends.

Although neither of his siblings agree with him slipping out without a word about where he's going. He's gotten a bit better about it but nonetheless he can't help it if Isa won't listen to a word he says.

Which is exactly why he always informs Aqua. Much like today where he finds himself sitting outside the large mall. Beside him is Vanitas, who is very proud of himself for helping pick out a majority of what Ienzo bought, as they wait on the others to finish up at the last store. Something about suspenders being on sale.

Vanitas nudges Ienzo with his elbow, "Make sure you keep it clean and follow the instructions."

"You follow instructions?"

A glare is what Ienzo gets in return. "If you want an infection go ahead. Not even I'm that stupid." He makes a couple wild gestures as he does this and makes the small chain connecting two rings on his middle finger to jingle. "I bet you can't do it. You'll take it out and let it close up, don't want your guard dog to get mad."

The grin on his face at the end dares Ienzo enough to want to prove him wrong. Even though he'll be keeping the earring either way. Having someone to go up against doesn't hurt either.

"And if I do you'll pay for my next one."

"Pff- Fine."

Ienzo glances over at him, "How did the test go"

"Got a C. It'll keep everyone off my back at least," Vanitas huffs.

"Then I'll see you Tuesday after school to study."

Vanitas turns, confused and a little agitated with the sudden plans. "What? Why?"

"Because you have another one coming up. You need to study more."

Demyx, Larxene and Lea all come out just as Vanitas groans. None of them ask what they could have been talking about. Instead, Larxene gestures to the two black and white bags at Ienzo's feet. "Get enough, dork? Or do we need to hit another store?"

Her sharp, and sometimes cruel, tongue doesn't bother Ienzo much anymore. Spending almost a year now with her has made that easier to handle. It's just how she is. If anything she's just as fierce as she is beautiful and her final word on any matter with the group means more.

"No, this should be enough to start with. Thank you for your help, Larxene."

She places her hand on his head. Larxene is already taller than him but even more so when she wears her boots with the three inch heels. "See, he knows how to thank me. What the hell is wrong with the rest of you?"

Lea shrugs and Demyx whines, "That's 'cause you're mean."

"And you're a snotty baby, what's new?"

Demyx sticks out his tongue when Larxene isn't looking. She's too busy basking in the praise the baby bird of the group is willing to give her. Tussling his hair, Larxene gestures toward the parking lot. "Alright, Demyx, where's the car?"

His face turns white as a sheet.

"You've got to be kidding. You had one job."

Vanitas pushes away from the wall and strides past Demyx, but not before whispering something to him. To everyone looking in at them it would seem that Larxene and Vanitas are the harshest members of their little group. But to Ienzo, they all help hold each other together.

"Ah, I remember! Four, we were at four!" He gives her a smirk, "Now who's useless?"

Larxene rolls her eyes, "Let's just get going I have practice in the morning and it's late enough as it is."

Now that Lea has license or as good as one that no one will question because he drives safer than anyone else on the road, he's their chauffeur. Lucky for Ienzo he's usually the last to be dropped off. Not that he'd ever complain. There's something nice about the peaceful silence, comfortable silence at that, which settles between Lea and himself.

Well, except for tonight. Lea glances at Ienzo from the corner of his eye. "Did you really save up your allowance for this?"

"Of course. Aqua isn't going to just hand me a hundred dollars without me explaining what it's for."

Lea, safely at the last red light before Ienzo's neighborhood, looks at him. "Wait. Hold on, you didn't tell her what you were doing today?"

"She might be okay with it but Isa wouldn't." Ienzo turns his gaze out the window with a huff. "He doesn't like change."

"Yeah… I get that."

Ienzo can feel it. Lea doesn't particularly agree with his decisions since they've met. But it's no different than any other kid looking to rebel. The only thing that they do bad is Larxene smokes occasionally. Even then Ienzo is pretty sure it's only in certain situations or around a particular group of friends that get under her and Vanitas's skin.

Pulling up on the curb, Lea gets out as well. It confuses Ienzo at first but he often forgets that despite the raggedy layers of clothing and obscene about of black and red plaid there's a gentleman in there. Ienzo tugs his bags along and heads straight for the front door. He just gets inside, with Lea idling at the threshold, when he hears his brother.

"You're home late."

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Sorry, got distracted," is all he says while shucking off his shoes.

But Isa is already there with his arms crossed over his chest. He's already dressed for bed, a simple black tank top and some sweatpants, and Ienzo can only assume Isa has waited up for him. "You could have called."

"You could have too."

"Get to bed, you have to be up early. It's not my fault you won't have enough sleep."

Ienzo shoots him a glare before walking off. But not before giving a wave over his shoulder to Lea. Just in the hallway he stops, suspicious of the lack of sound from a shutting door. He's sure Aqua is asleep. Which is why it surprises him when he can hear Isa raise his voice ever so slightly.

"I don't know what you think you're doing but stop. He has a good path in front of him, he doesn't need you screwing it up."

Lea glares back, "Me? You're the one pushing him away. You know, that thing you did to me too." Isa is about to counter when Lea cuts him off. "You walked away, Isa. I was just trying to be there for you when your parents died and you cut me off. I tried for months only to be told to go away."

"I have to take care of-"

"Ienzo? Because Aqua does everything and you just want to lessen that burden? Maybe if you weren't so damned busy trying to fix what you think is wrong with Ienzo you'd realize you're the one that's unhappy instead."

"You don't have the right to say that to me."

"Right back at'cha, buddy. When you wanna be friends again, I'll be waiting for you to unlock the door so I can get back in. 'Cause I'll just keep trying."

Ienzo panics a little, scurrying for his room, as the door finally shuts. He slips away while Isa is left at the door. His chest hurts and he knows Lea is right. He's the one that's done this. That pushed away every friend he had and when Lea needed him too. After all, the same thing happened to him. Isa sighs and leans against the door, "It doesn't matter now."

0-0-0

The next morning finds Ienzo more than just tired. He's mentally exhausted. Of course he had an idea that Lea knew Isa. But he didn't realize they were that close. It would explain why Lea drops everything if Ienzo needs something. Even so he can't bother with thinking too much about it. Today is about Aqua. It might only be her twentieth birthday but every single one is important to them as a family.

Ienzo grabs the small white and blue box that has Aqua's present and slips it into the back of his dark purple jeans. The only thing that isn't new on his person is the pair of sneakers. Even the white shirt with black sleeves is new. A simple chain necklace is around his neck and of course the small silver ball piercing his earlobe.

No matter what he'll never be awake early enough to beat Isa. By the time he's out of the room and in the kitchen at a sharp ten in the morning Isa already has everything done save for plating the food. Isa doesn't turn around, "Ienzo?"

"Yes?"

"Go wake Aqua up for me. Breakfast is ready."

Ienzo spins on his heel and retraces his steps back to the hallway. The only difference is instead he takes a left toward Aqua's room. He gives a few knocks on the door before a tired voice tells him to come in. Ienzo strides inside to see Aqua wrapped up in a dark blue blanket, not wanting to crawl out of bed just yet. Only her head pokes out the top. She yawns before giving him a smile, "Good morning."

"Happy birthday," Ienzo counters as he walks over. "Did you sleep well?"

She nods and sits up, pushing the blanket down to at least her waist. Aqua rubs at her eyes and yawns again. Her sapphire eyes glance over him and she can't help gesturing him to come closer. Ienzo knows she's always had a keen eye. She'll notice something far before anyone else he knows. Aqua sees him after all. Not saying Isa doesn't, but he's far too busy trying to keep Ienzo safe half the time.

Ienzo sits on the edge of the bed while Aqua pats his leg. "I like the color. I might have to get a pair myself." A giggle leaves her at the look on Ienzo's face. "I'm kidding. But I do think you look good in them."

"You can always go with me next time, we all could." The end of his sentence ends in a whisper, unsure of it even still.

"Well, I hope you don't mind me buying you jewelry for your birthday now. I know just the earrings you'd like."

His eyes widen as she reaches forward, brushing her thumb over the little stud.

"Sorry."

"I just wish you'd told me. I would have taken you myself."

The sad look in her eyes isn't from what he's done and he knows it. He took a moment they could have had together away. Something she wanted to be there for. He swallows hard and tries to reassure her, "I didn't plan it. I'm… I hope you don't think I'm giving up and wanting to run away from school work."

She laughs softly and reaches out for him, pulling him in for a hug. "It's okay. I know you're committed. You're just… finding yourself. But, do let Isa and I help you. Don't make him the enemy, okay?"

He knows what she's saying. They've all had it rough and nothing seems like it'll be perfect again. Yet they still have fun. They can get along. They love one another. He just has to meet Isa halfway more and more. Returning the hug, Ienzo presses his face into her shoulder.

Aqua pushes him back, hands on his shoulders, "Just stay out of trouble alright and be safe. That's all I can ask for. I know Lea won't let you do anything too crazy."

"You-"

"Isa might not want to talk to him but he answers me just fine."

Ienzo tries not to laugh. He doesn't doubt that at all actually considering how Aqua can be just as convincing as Larxene. "You'd better wash up. Isa already has breakfast ready."

"Alright, I'll be right there."

Leaving her to get ready, Ienzo hurries out and back to the kitchen. The second he's there he notices that Isa has already plated everything and gotten the drinks out. All he's doing is cleaning things up while he waits for Ienzo and Aqua to return.

Ienzo strides over, beginning to hand him some of the dirty dishes out of his reach. "She's just getting dressed."

There's a moment of silence before Isa finally speaks up. "I'm sorry about last night. I think I wsa a little… too harsh."

"My friends aren't as bad as they look."

"I'm just-"

"Worried. I know." He steps away from the counter and heads for his seat. "You don't have to pretend. Just being my brother is fine. It's more fun when you're not trying to control everything that happens here."

Isa switches the water off and spins around, drying his hands on a towel as he marches over to Ienzo. "You won't pay attention to other possibilities so I have to do it for you."

"If you don't let me fall how can I learn to get back up. I just want friends and to have fun, what's so wrong with that?"

"Nothing. I just…" he stops as Aqua rounds the corner, coming toward them. "Happy birthday, Aqua."

"Thanks you two. And you made so much!" She takes a seat next to Ienzo and gestures to him. "You and I need to take him to get some real earrings for him next week."

Isa's eyes widen but only for a moment. He quickly regains his composure and grabs for his glass, opting to stand while they sit on the stools on the other side of the island. "Alright."

Quiet and trying to let the tension leave the room as best he can, Ienzo reaches into his back pocket and pulls forth the box once they've made it through breakfast. He scoots it closer to Aqua. "I wanted to give it to you early since you're going out with friends today."

"Oh, Ienzo." She quickly pulls the top of and can barely believe it. The little bracelet with the single star charm on it is absolutely beautiful in Aqua's eyes. Against Ienzo's wishes, she leans over and pecks his cheek. "Thank you so much, I love it. I'll make sure I wear it tonight!"

Ienzo blushes and slides off the stool, "Um, Isa, do you want me to do dishes before I leave too?"

"That'd be nice, thank you."

Once he's managed to do all of the dishes, Ienzo makes a break for the door. He hasn't even called anyone to see if they're free. But it doesn't matter. Not after Isa gave him that look when Aqua mentioned the earring. He's just reaching for the doorknob when Isa grabs his wrist.

"Ienzo, wait."

"I'll be back early tonight, okay? I promise." He glances back at Isa, wishing for his brother to trust him. Just to let him leave. "And I'm sorry, I get it. Just… can I go?"

Isa sighs. "Call me if you need a ride home. If you're late you have to clean the house tomorrow with me not just your chores."

"Understood," is all Ienzo says before slipping outside and shutting the door behind him.

He's not happy they aren't spending the day together doing something for Aqua. But she's not a kid anymore. She has friends and they'll be out having a good time. Their little party for her can be tomorrow once the weekend hits. After a few streets he finally reaches for his phone. It's easier for Lea to pick him up at the ice cream place anyways.

But his fingers go into his pocket to find nothing. Not even his wallet. He wants to hit himself for even thinking of checking to make sure he grabbed them. It must have been when he decided to grab Aqua's gift first instead. He lets out a sigh as he stops, glancing to his left to see that little playground he happened upon all those years ago. The same one his parents took him too every now and then.

So enraptured in his thoughts, Ienzo doesn't notice his feet have kept moving and he slams right into the person coming around the corner. Ienzo falls backward, landing hard, while the other stumbles backward with ice cream dripping down his shirt. "You… have got to be kidding me."

"Calm down, it's just ice cream Roxas."

Ienzo looks up and indeed he's right there. Vanitas' brother. "Uh, sorry about that I wasn't paying attention."

Roxas glares, "Don't tell me Vanitas put you up to this. Where is he?"

"He's not here."

"I-" Roxas stops as the boy next to him steps around him, extending a hand toward Ienzo. "Riku?"

Short white hair and those shimmering blue-green eyes. He's the same every time Ienzo runs into him with his friends. Of course Roxas usually does all the talking considering his history with Vanitas. But Ienzo's eyes always manage to find this… Riku. The name sounds a little exotic and Ienzo would love to be able to say it aloud. But he doesn't. What he does do is tentatively take the hand offered to him.

Riku helps him to his feet. He begins to talk, although it's toward Roxas instead. "Go ahead and meet up with the others, I'll be doing something else."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, tell Kairi I'll make it up to her later." Riku waits until Roxas hurries past, heading toward where Kairi and Xion are waiting. "Are you okay?"

Ienzo stares up at him, confused by how Riku has gotten so much taller than him. "I… I'm okay you don't have to stay. You'd have more fun with your friends."

"Says who?"

The retort has Ienzo's lips sealing shut. He doesn't know how to respond in the slightest. All he can do is watch as Riku chuckles.

"It's fine. But you look upset. We can talk about it over ice cream if you want."

"Ok…"

Ienzo isn't sure why he goes along and allows Riku to turn around, his hand finally leaving his own, and guide Ienzo back toward the shop. All the way he tells Riku what's happened. He doesn't know how it's so easy to spill everything to a boy he's only looked at from afar. Perhaps it's because he's on the sidelines of Ienzo's life that it doesn't matter.

The entire time Riku listens. All the way till they get to the counter and sit down at one of the tables inside. It's only then that Ienzo sighs, feeling as though a boulder has been lifted off his shoulders. "Thanks… Riku."

The name feels strange on his tongue. Not that he can focus on it when Riku leans back against the bench like seat. "I'm glad you have siblings that care though. It's hard being an only kid."

Ienzo glances over at him as he eats the sweet and salty treat. "Oh… yeah. I know."

"I remember when I first saw you actually. When your sister came and picked you up. I thought it must be great." Riku takes a bite out of the ice pop. "It's just me and my dad. But that's not so bad either. He doesn't get onto me when I get a low grade on an essay at least."

"Do you need help?"

Riku looks over, "Don't you go to that fancy school though? You must have no time to-"

"I finish most of my work before I leave school. If you need help with anything I could tutor you. I already assist Vanitas."

At this Riku laughs, "I was wondering how he suddenly was getting good grades. It's been driving Roxas crazy." Standing up, Riku glances down at Ienzo. "Don't move. I'll be right back."

He rushes away back to the counter only to return with what looks to be a pen. Ienzo raises a brow at him but doesn't flinch when Riku grabs his free hand. Riku lightly holds onto Ienzo's fingers and begins to scribble a number across his skin.

"I'll let you know when I'm free and we can meet up."

"Alright."

0-0-0

Weeks turn to months that Ienzo has been helping Riku. They've grown closer to where they don't just meet up to study. Sometimes Ienzo will go over to Riku's just to play games or meet the rest of Riku's friends. Of course he doesn't completely stop hanging out with Lea and the rest. Something that Vanitas gives him earfuls about all the time, not to just ditch them. He's sure Vanitas has gotten a little attached. Then again, he cares about them all in return too.

Even so, it's no different than today. Ienzo finds himself in Riku's living room with books sprawled across the coffee table. Riku sighs as he drops his notebook on top of everything else. "Finished, finally."

Ienzo glances over to him, "You should be able to ace the math test now at least."

"Hey, Ienzo?"

"Hm?" Ienzo hums as he gathers up his materials and pushes them into his backpack. He knows Isa should be here any second to pick him up after all.

"I was wondering if you'd want to go to the movies this weekend."

"Don't you usually go with your friend to work out then?"

Riku leans his arm against the back of the couch and then his head on his upraised hand. "I'm trying to ask you out on a date, Ienzo."

Ienzo whips his head back around to look at Riku so fast that he's sure he just gave himself whiplash. He swallows hard past the lump in his throat. Words aren't something he's good at when he's caught off guard like this. He can only stare for a moment and let out a small noise, "Me?"

"No, the textbook. Of course you."

"But… why?"

"We hang out all the time. You're smart, kind, and cute on top of it. Besides, when you call or text me… it makes me happy to see your name on my screen."

The blush that covers Ienzo's face doesn't want to dare go away either. "I… I'd like that."

Riku, seeing that Ienzo is open to this, reaches down and grabs one of Ienzo's hands. He laces their fingers together and brings Ienzo's hand up just as the doorbell rings. A single kiss to the top of Ienzo's hand has the latter practically melting in his seat. "I'll see you then, you'd better hurry before Isa has to wait too long."

Ienzo nods, barely able to talk at this point, and picks up his bag. Riku walks him to the door with their hands still clasped together. In fact, Ienzo doesn't even think about it until the door is opened and Isa's eyes glance down at the joined hands. Nothing shows on Isa's face as Ienzo finally pries himself from Riku. He hurries to the car but not before giving a wave back at Riku. He covers his mouth and gets into the car, unable to believe this is happening, that his crush has actually born fruit.

Meanwhile, Isa raises a brow at Riku. "I'm sure you know what I'll do if you hurt him."

"A good thing you'll never have to."

Isa smirks as he turns around. He's at least glad Ienzo has been with better company, in his opinion at least. But the last thing he wanted was his little brother to get into a relationship. He'll definitely have to talk to Aqua about this one. They're going to need more ground rules. It's just a good thing that Isa is aware that Aqua knows Riku's dad. That'll make it a lot easier to deal with.

0-0-0

Summer is just within his reach now. The only thing that truly stands in his way is the project he has to do during the break. Yet his siblings have come to an agreement that he can do that any time while he's off. While Aqua is on vacation as well they're going to spend a weekend at the beach. It's a nice little drive to get there but every second is something Ienzo has enjoyed.

The two days with just the three of them has been the most enjoyable and healing moments with them. Just a little bit of fun has eased a lot of the tension that's been building up between Isa and Ienzo. It's just a shame that it's coming to an end.

Isa ruffles Ienzo's damp tresses as they walk back up to where Aqua is packing a few things up. She's always ahead of the game but she's also the one that gets to drive back. Just as they're getting close there's a voice from a little ways away that calls out to Ienzo.

"Hey!"

Ienzo turns just in time to see Riku run over to them. Isa gives a look before heading off to help Aqua finish gathering everything to go home. Although for once Ienzo wishes he hadn't. He can see Riku's friends off in the distance. He's sure they were probably here earlier and it makes him wish they didn't have to leave just yet. Even though it's only a little after noon they have to get back since Aqua has work tomorrow.

"I didn't know you were coming to the beach."

Riku laughs, "It was spur of the moment. Kairi and Xion really wanted to come before they go on vacation with their family."

"And you're the driver. Don't you have to have an adult with you?"

"Haha, technically." Riku chuckles. "Are you leaving already?"

Ienzo is about to answer when Aqua is suddenly behind him. She smiles at Riku over the top of Ienzo's head while her hands fall onto his shoulders. "Oh, Riku are you all just here for the day?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Then would it be alright if I left Ienzo with you? I have to get back early because of work but if you could promise he'll make it home safe?"

"Of course. I'll make sure he's home before it's too late or I'll call Isa."

"Thanks." Aqua pats the back of Ienzo's head, "I'll have Isa bring you your back and I'll see you tomorrow."

Ienzo turns, watching her walk away. There's a smile on her face and he knows she's probably proud of herself for that one. If anything it means he gets to spend more time with Riku. Of which, Riku grabs his hand. "Come on, if you're not too water logged let's go."

The rest of the afternoon and even the beginning of the evening vanishes far faster than any of them had planned. Unfortunately all good things have to come to an end. However, there is one silver lining and it's that he's the one that gets dropped off last. It only makes it that much better that Riku walks him up to his door to top it all off.

Riku hands Ienzo his bag, having carried it for him. "I'll pick you up tomorrow around noon, is that okay?"

"You can't stay?"

"I don't think Isa would like that," he says with a laugh.

Ienzo nods, he understands that much. But it doesn't stop him from wishing Riku could come inside for the rest of the night. Ienzo turns only for Riku to step around him, holding onto his shoulder. Riku looks him in the eye and gets his lips a little closer to Ienzo's. It's no different than the countless other times they've kissed yet somehow Ienzo feels it is.

They've been officially dating for awhile but this is so much more. The kiss that pushes against his lips makes his stomach knot and his eyes close merely on instinct alone. Everything about it is perfect to the point where Ienzo drops the bag and instead grabs onto Riku's arms. He tries to keep him there as long as he can but Riku must notice something he doesn't. Something that has him pulling away with a smile.

"Tomorrow."

"Mhm."

Ienzo doesn't dare watch Riku walk back to his car. His face is too hot and his vision dares to sway. All he can do is scoop up his bag and hurry inside. Not to mention avoiding looking Isa in the eye as he does.

0-0-0

Nothing has truly changed in almost two years. Then again, there's nothing to change. There's a quiet understanding. Ienzo is surely going to rebel in some form and Isa is going to be all over him about it. But Ienzo finds it comforting now more than ever at least. It's a comfortable mess that they enjoy nonetheless, especially since Ienzo will be going off to school where Isa can't hound him at all for getting to bed on time or eating right.

To a degree, Ienzo will miss it. He'll miss everything and how normal it is. But there's one thing that won't be changing and that's Riku. There's only one person that's going to be in the same city and close enough to harass him. Not that he'd change it. He wants nothing more than to push this relationship further.

But for now he has to wait for Riku to even come pick him up. Ienzo takes a deep breath and walks out of his room, spotting Isa on the couch once he makes it down the hall. "Isa?"

"Hm?"

"I'm going out with Riku. Might be back late."

"Again?" Ienzo passes by the couch and Isa is quick to stop his retreat. "Wait, just a minute."

Ienzo decides it's better not to push his brother. He knows he's tired after working all week. "Do you need something?"

Isa looks up at him. Those green eyes seem to hold secret emotions that Ienzo only wishes he could tap into. Then again, Isa never has been very good at expressing how he really feels. If there's anything he's learned from his brother, and Lea as well, it's that. They're both a mess and it drives Ienzo crazy. Perhaps that's why he takes a moment to sit on the edge of the couch.

"I actually want you to meet someone. Well, he wanted to meet you actually." Isa gives him a rather concerned look, he had thought he met all of Ienzo's friends already after all. "I know you don't always like who I hang out with or how something might change but… thank you for being there for me."

A knock echoes off the door and Ienzo goes to stand. But Isa won't let him. He's already grabbing Ienzo's wrist and yanking him forward. The hug that Ienzo is met with is one that has him realizing Isa might just be a little scared of things changing again. He knows it because he's the same. But it has to happen.

Isa says not a word, just lets Ienzo rise and answer the door. The silence means more than any words ever could. Then again he might not feel that way once Ienzo does open it, revealing a familiar shock of red hair waltzing into the house. Ienzo keeps his hand on the doorknob, "I think you'll get along. I'll message if I'll be late."

The second he's out the door Ienzo can't help giving Riku a smile. Unlike Lea's car, which is parked in their driveway, Riku's is humming at the curb. He has to resist sprinting over and launching himself inside. Instead he calmly makes his way over and settles himself onto the passenger seat.

He's just buckling his seatbelt when Riku grabs his hand. Lifting it up, Riku places a soft peck to Ienzo's knuckles. It has Ienzo's face turning beet red. "W- What are you doing?"

"Apologizing for being away for your birthday."

"You already did. A dozen times."

"But not in person." This time he turns Ienzo's hand over and another kiss lands on the inside of Ienzo's wrist. "Presents are nice but not when I couldn't be there to give it to you that day."

Ienzo swats Riku away with a chuckle, "Are you sure you're not just glad to be home?"

Riku laughs and finally pulls away, putting the car back into drive so they can leave. "Maybe, but you're here after all. I guess you finally talked Lea into sitting down with Isa?"

"Sort of. I still think he'll keep tabs on me even when I leave."

"That's just being a good brother though."

Ienzo glances out the window, "Yeah I know."

"Any place you wanna go?"

"No, just your place is fine."

The drive is quickest that way. Riku doesn't live very far away and before they know it Riku is pulling up in the driveway. Getting out of the car, Riku strides for the mailbox. "Go ahead and make yourself at home. I'll grab us a couple drinks and be there in a second.

Doing just that, Ienzo heads inside. He doesn't hesitate and goes straight for Riku's room. Ienzo slowly sits down onto Riku's bed while he waits. He glances about the room, wondering when Riku is going to begin packing. It's a little ways off before that comes into play but even still Ienzo knows very well that time flies by.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." Riku walks over and sits next to Ienzo. There's a smile on his countenance as he hands him one of the sodas he's brought.

But Ienzo doesn't pop the top or even look at it. He's too busy gazing at the young man next to him. To say he's never not enraptured with Riku's eyes is an understatement. They're a window into Riku's very soul and it's the most beautiful thing that Ienzo has ever seen. No little baby crushes have ever solidified like this one has.

Riku reaches out with his now free hand and cups at the side of Ienzo's face. His thumb brushes over Ienzo's cheek to his ear, bumping up against the piercings he's gotten over the years. However, to Riku he sees something entirely different. While he feels the same, he also can feel the uncertainty pooling in Ienzo's eyes. It's the same gnawing notion that resides in the back of his mind as well.

There's no way this can last. They're so young still, just at the cusp of adulthood, and there's so much left to life. Surely they can't help from growing apart. That maybe they're just two dumb eighteen year olds clinging onto each other because it's all they know.

Then again, maybe that's not so bad.

Ienzo can't even think of moving away, not that he'd want to, when Riku leans forward. He wants the kiss that ensues and wishes it never has to end. The lips against his own are soft and seemingly so sure of how they move against his. Ienzo simply can't fathom being apart from them at the moment.

Reaching out, Ienzo lets the can drop to the floor with a soft thunk with Riku's joining it soon after. Neither pay it any mind. Not when Ienzo's hands are grasping onto the front of Riku's t-shirt. Riku is pulling away far too late and they're both left breathless. Ienzo gasps for air as he drops his head to lean it on Riku's chest between his hands and the fabric they clutch at.

Riku presses softly at Ienzo's shoulders and the latter understands. He falls backward onto the bed while also succeeding in taking Riku with him. Their legs are a tangled mess but their chests are together and their faces only an inch or so apart. Ienzo's hair falls away from his countenance and for a moment Riku is lost in those swirling blue depths.

So lost that it wraps around him and has his face dipping down to kiss along Ienzo's jaw. Along the curve and across his neck, Riku can't stop himself from leaving evidence all over the flawless skin. Ienzo mewls and sighs as Riku's hands join in on the fun. The slip up beneath his shirt, pushing it up to reveal his stomach — all in the effort to reach the sensitive peaks.

Ienzo won't let Riku have his way for very long. He's too determined to touch Riku in return, never has their affection for one another been one sided. The instant that Riku lifts his head to place a chaste peck to Ienzo's bottom lip is when Ienzo strikes. He flips them over with relative ease. So much in fact that he knows from the look on Riku's face that he had no qualms in helping Ienzo do so.

Lips seal together all over again. Ienzo pushes his hands up into Riku's hair, tangling his fingers with the short strands. All the while Riku's drift down to Ienzo's waist. Fingertips tease the waistband and a shiver races up Ienzo's spine. Riku kisses his way from Ienzo's lips to his cheek.

"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay?"

He blinks a few times. Ienzo wants to continue. There's no doubt in his mind about that. Especially not when his skin feels as though it's on fire wherever Riku decides to touch. Ienzo dips his head down further and whispers back to Riku, "…okay…"

Riku is swift about unbuttoning and pulling the zipper down for Ienzo's jeans. All so he can slip one hand down the back of them and his boxers. The cool touch of Riku's fingertips against his rear is enough to have goosebumps rising to Ienzo's skin. Riku, noticing the slight squirming, gives a smile.

"Cold?"

Ienzo brushes their noses together, "You could have given a warning."

"Or just give me a second and I'll warm you back up."

This is nothing new. He's used to the way that Riku's hands cup and caress his body. The only difference is there's a purpose now. One that should leave them both surely twitching with the desire to do it again.

Ienzo leans into each and every touch until Riku withdraws completely with but a lingering kiss left on Ienzo's lips. Flipping their positions once more, Riku lies between Ienzo's legs. He grinds down against Ienzo. It ignites the fire into an unstoppable force of need.

Wrapping his arms around Riku's shoulders, Ienzo pulls Riku down to lock their lips together. Their pelvises grind together while hands continue to roam as if they have nowhere to truly land. At least until Riku dares to slip his hand down the front of Ienzo's jeans next.

"A- aah! Riku…"

It's certainly not a plead to stop. The surprise in his voice cannot be matched by the way he pushes up into the hand cupping at his heat. Fingers wrap so securely around his length that for a moment Ienzo can't help but break away from the kiss he instigated. Riku pecks the side of his jaw, "Too much?"

"No… more, keep going."

As if Ienzo opened the door and invited Riku inside, the latter spurs forth to do just that. He rubs his hand up and down the hot length as best he can without pulling it out completely. Their bodies hum with a desire so rich and hot that Ienzo can't resist it. He copies Riku and sends his hand into the latter's pants as well.

The rhythm they fall into is one they could comfortably stay in for what feels like an eternity. But they both know that can't happen. At least, Ienzo still has enough sense to know he can't wear Riku's clothes back home. Ienzo pulls away entirely, "Riku, wait."

He backs off immediately, sitting back on his haunches and giving Ienzo a rather concerned look. He's about to ask what Ienzo would rather do when Ienzo grabs at the waistband of his jeans and yanks them down. Calling Riku's bluff is easy when he can use that as a distraction from the fact that he's nude down to his knees.

"I never said stop."

Riku can't help chuckling. Of course Ienzo would say that. It's why he gives a roll of his eyes and slides off the bed. He strides over to his dresser. Plucking a few things they'll need, Riku glances over his shoulder. "Then you'd better get those off the rest of the way."

This time he's not surprised to turn back around to see Ienzo's jeans and such on the ground piled atop his shoes. Riku doesn't bother with his own, save for kicking off his sneakers, before getting back on the bed. He raises a brow at the modest way Ienzo covers himself.

"Ready?"

"Just… let me turn over or-"

"I thought you liked my face, why run?"

Riku lets what's in his hands drop to the bed besides him before grabbing at the backs of Ienzo's thighs. He guides them up, knees bent and spread open. Ienzo hurriedly reaches forward and grasps onto his own legs. It frees Riku's hands up once more so he can pick up what he brought.

The pop of a cap happens twice before Riku brushes his slick fingers between Ienzo's cheeks. The cold touch is unmistakable to the point that Ienzo jolts a little. They both give a nervous laugh at this. If only to shake off the tension of Riku pushing a finger inside of Ienzo.

Uncomfortable and foreign. He's done it himself plenty of times but to have Riku be the one who is stretching him now has his mind on fire. Much like the rest of his body. Ienzo tries so hard to keep himself relaxed. He just can't resist tightening around Riku when a second fingers dares to enter.

Seconds. Minutes. What feels like hours.

Ienzo doesn't know how long it takes for Riku to finally be able to get four fingers inside of him. At least to the point where it's not this unforgiving stretching feeling, as if there's no way he can be opened up any further.

"Are you… Are you done yet?" Ienzo huffs as he finally chances looking down at what Riku is doing.

On the other hand, Riku has been staring up at Ienzo. He's watched how Ienzo's face has contorted with each motion or when he added a digit. The hazy eyes and the way his flush has spread from his face to his ears as well as down his neck and touching his chest. Not to mention how excited he is from just this.

"Yeah, just a second."

Riku has taken the opportunity to figure Ienzo out just a little. He's never done this before with anyone else. Everything from here on out is a new adventure he can't wait to be on with his boyfriend. He tries to busy himself after he pulls his fingers out of Ienzo with a wet pop. He's slow in how he gets ready. And Ienzo watches it all with baited breath.

From the opening of the condom, putting it on and then finally slathering it with extra lube.

Ienzo is fixated on Riku as he settles up so that he can push right into him without missing or making a mess. The softened muscles twitch as Riku begins to pierce Ienzo with his manhood. The prep and slickness make it that much easier for Riku to sheath himself into Ienzo little by little.

The resistance is still there and it's all Ienzo can do to try and keep breathing. Even if he doesn't tense up he's still tight. So tight that Riku can't believe the pressure. It feels so good. There's nothing about it that he doesn't like; suctioning around him, the heat, and of course the mewls that come from Ienzo when he moves even the slightest bit.

Completely connected, Riku leans forward and braces his hands on the bed on either side of Ienzo. He gives Ienzo a small smile, "You okay?"

"Y- Yeah."

The breathless exchange isn't nearly as loud as their heart thumping loud in their ears. It's deafening. Ienzo lets go of his legs and instead lets them wrap around Riku's waist, securing him where he's at. That is while his hands clasp onto the sides of Riku's face and bring him down. "Move and kiss me," he demands in a soft murmur.

Riku smiles as they kiss, "Sure."

The instance that their lips meet is when Riku pulls out just enough to push back in. The grueling struggle to get out is only made up for the fact that Ienzo's body eagerly welcomes him back in. This is nothing like what they usually do. So far past the point where they normally stop and simply cuddle up together that Ienzo isn't sure how long he can handle this.

It's as if Riku is turning him inside out, making a mess of all of his insides. These new sensations envelop the two lovers to the point where nothing else exists. The only thing they care about is remaining connected until the euphoria takes them over. The waves of bliss rush up their bodies each time Riku thrusts back into Ienzo, only for the latter's heels to press hard against him, urging him to continue.

Their mouths barely stay connected. Continuing to maintain their lip lock gets harder and harder each second that this lasts. Sometimes their lips even miss but all that matters is that Ienzo can wrap his arms around Riku's shoulders and keep him close.

They're together and that's all that matters. Especially since Riku can't last much longer. Ienzo is far too tight and hot to hold out. Ienzo lets Riku's tongue into his mouth just as Riku cums, all of the heat building up in Ienzo — filling the condom. It's a strange feeling to say the least but he's not quite there yet himself.

Riku seems to notice this when he retreats from the kiss. He sits up, pulling away from Ienzo's hold, and smirks. He pours some more lube onto his hand and grabs for Ienzo's erection. Legs dropping from around Riku, Ienzo reaches down for Riku's hands only to stop short. He can feel Riku still inside of him even though nothing is coming of it.

That coupled with the slick fingers jerking him off has Ienzo bringing his hands back to his face. He covers his countenance and tries to muffle his own moan as he cums. The relief and bliss mingle together inside of his body as Riku withdraws. He doesn't notice the older boy cleaning everything up or chunking what's been used into the waste bin on the other side of the bed near his desk.

What he does know is that Riku is on the bed next to him, flopping down rather suddenly. It has Ienzo bouncing a little before Riku turns him over. Chest to chest and nose to nose, they idle for a moment. Riku smiles and brushes Ienzo's hair away from his face, "Think you can stay the night?"

Ienzo smiles back at him, "I don't see why not."

#fanfic #kingdom hearts #ienzo #Riku #rikuzeku #is there even a ship name for ienzo riku?#....rizo? LMAO #pffft #very long fic #best read elsewhere probably xD

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wilhelmjfink · 5 years

Text

The Great Divide - Chapter 5

A/N: i thought we were on chapter 4 but i already posted that so here we are...!

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter

Riley had observed the workers as she was led — or dragged, more or less — blindly through a maze of dirty alleyways and dark corridors. Old brick buildings, dilapidated and crumbling walls to structures getting patched up and rebuilt were everywhere, and each one had a small crew of people struggling to keep up with it. Some women, some men, some even children, all of them emancipated and filthy, covered in soot and bruises, bags under their eyes from exhaustion, frown lines permanently etched on their faces that gave even the youngest ones the appearance of having lived through a lifetime of struggle.

Up until then she had been trying to quell the fear twisting in her gut telling her it was nothing she couldn’t handle, but every corner she turned held more and more reason for her to worry.

She wasn’t even sure where she was — she had heard the words “pit” and “divide” thrown around frequently in the chatter and spotted a couple of makeshift signs with those words painted sloppily on them among others all with arrows pointing different directions.

Men were shoveling piles of coal into furnaces, stacking gigantic steam beams on top of one another or hoisting them up with a pulley to sit steadily against the towering walls of thick, heavy corrugated metal sheets that bordered the city endlessly, sealing the rest of the world where it belonged — outside of the fences. The wall around her was constructed of endless laborious tasks, it seemed.

It was like a different world, an alternate universe that Riley had fallen into against her will, almost like she was living in a movie. Watching it through a big screen before her eyes except she could feel every little piece of it: every wave of heat from the roaring furnaces, every spec of dust that floated around her that she blinked into her eyes or inhaled dryly, every time the person pushing her from behind tightened his grip threateningly to remind her whose control she was under should she get any ideas, gloved fingers bruising her pale skin.

Stumbling up some concrete stairs she was shoved harshly through the shipping entrance of a looming factory building, covered in a thick layer of dust that settled on all of the unused machines and full of heavy duty chains that hung from the tall ceiling, bulky and rusty hooks dangling from the bottom links and over her head.

While she was engulfed in the horror movie vibe she was getting her captor pressed her against one of the cold, steel walls and held her there securely, patting her down as if she was being searched by a cop or by security at TSA. She growled to herself, not fighting back just yet, but already formulating a plan in the back of her mind of how she was going to get the hell out of this place and the demons that walked it; she knew it held nothing but long, painful days ahead for her if she didn’t leave as soon as possible.

“This one’s good.” The voice come from behind her, muffled as if he was talking through some sort of mask — hell, he might’ve been, she hadn’t even seen him yet. Her right cheek was still digging into the cold steel wall and pinching her flesh as she was held there, biting her tongue and squirming uncomfortably, tasting the blood as it seeped out from the cuts she was causing.

The pressure was released off of her and she seized the opportunity of freedom to whip around to get a good look at the mysterious stranger. It was just as she’d expected: he had the leather armor with the same spikes as the last few, a gas mask covering his face, and a large axe strapped to his back. He was tall, solid, and any inclination she had to turn and run completely melted away into nothing. He was intimidating and she stood stupidly. “Clothes off.”

She blinked. “I’m... w--what?”

“Clothes off!” She was already shaking, her fingers lightly grasping the hem of her dark green jacket before she peeled it off slowly, eyeing the other strangers that were being ushered in in a similar fashion that she had been brought in with curiously. One girl was crying, one man cursing and flailing. Others just wept and did what they were told. The lone man’s protests didn’t last, because when they reached the wall adjacent to her his captor shoved him so forcefully into it that Riley could hear the sickening crunch of his nose breaking and he fell to the floor in a heap at the guys feet.

She wasted no more time kicking off her boots and jeans down to her bare feet where she stood what would’ve otherwise been awkwardly and exposed, not even minding her lack of coverage considering all that was going on around her, shivering despite the intense heat in the room, and standing as still and quiet as she could for fear of being next in line to have her face smashed in.

All of the other civilians were just as scared as her and none of the uniformed guards and soldiers offered her any information about what was going on. They buzzed around her like bees, talking amongst themselves, low rumbles of laughter erupting from deep inside their dark souls, surely about some of the misfortune of the people that stood by Riley. And she knew it would be coming for her soon.

Once they were all unclothed, they stood shoulder to shoulder, Riley first, and three more people to her right.

Soldiers with face paint and intimidating large guns stood in front of the only visible exit and another guy, this one covered by a welding mask, rolled in what looked like a wood stove, several steel rods on its side that Riley recognized as tools used to poke and supply fires with. It squeaked obnoxiously as he or she followed it in, rusty wheels grinding against each other like nails on a chalkboard.

Riley wasn’t sure how much farther her heart could drop down into her stomach at that point and all she knew for sure was that, whatever was about to happen, she was first in line for it.

Dread and crippling terror took over the rest of her body in waves as one of the rods was taken from its metal shelf, the metal cross-shaped tip of it glowing a menacing shade of red, the man holding it dawned in heavy duty gloves and chuckling to himself as he made his way to her.

She couldn’t be sure, but she thought it was his laughter that finally got to her.

She started pleading incoherently as the first man from before had flipped her over, his large hand holding her face down against the metal wall behind her, the other pinning her wrists easily in its grip above her hand. She spiraled quickly into a panic as her brain put the pieces in their place and she realized what exactly was about to happen:

“What — no! No, no, no! Please!”

Her begging was ignored and she could hear her skin sizzling before she could feel it.

Oddly, the metal felt painfully cold before it turned into a singeing heat, crippling her like she was struck by a bolt of white-hot lightning, a blood curdling scream tearing from deep inside of her unintentionally as she tried to push herself into the wall in hopes that maybe she could melt through it and escape the unbearable pain.

Death would have been a nice alternative. She writhed, struggling underneath the crushing iron grip in her body as all her senses just blended together into a blinding overwhelming agony. And it weighed down on her, crushing her until it was the only thing she could see or hear or feel in her little world.

Riley wasn’t sure how long she was forced to stand there, held upright as her kneels buckled underneath her with the fire digging into the flesh in the middle of her back, disfiguring her permanently and forever reminding of her terrifying time here that had yet to even begin. She embraced the darkness as it welcomed her into its arms.

Riley leaned with her head against the cold cement wall, shoulder digging into the coarse stone, a dull and welcomed pain as opposed to the debilitating burn on her back that throbbed against her skin. It heated her entire body up, despite still being mostly unclothed and shivering in the cool night air. She hugged herself, striving to remain as still as possible as to not disturb her burn, biting her lip to stifle her cries.

She assumed the makeshift cell that housed her was that of an actual prison; a small holding cell in a small city hall before, dark and quiet and holding nothing but a small cot and a toilet in the corner keeping her company.

She’d only woken up when they tossed her in there carelessly — paying little attention to the fresh wound they’d caused her — and she screamed in pain as she’d fallen, and since then the tears haven’t been able to stop. Her lip quivered as she whimpered, trying to withhold her sobbing, trying to be strong, but failing miserably as a combination of the pain and fear and despair smothered her and the reality of her situation became very real very fast.

Angry. She was angry that she had gone after that asshole Warner — if that was even his name — and angry that she believed him. She was upset with herself for trusting people so easily, still, even after Daryl had reprimanded her more than once for it. For as bitter as she could be, she couldn’t turn down the idea of helping someone... even if the reward was her own life. So stupid.

“Oh god, Daryl, please come help me...”

She wondered what he was doing. No idea of the time of day, no idea of how long it’d been since she’d last seen him, no frame of reference for any of it. It felt like years but she knew in reality it probably been twenty-four hours, if that. It all blurred together in a big mass of headaches, fear, yelling, vivid dreams of piercing blue eyes and a low, rough voice somewhere far away from her promising her she would be okay.

Fuck, she missed him.

So much so that it brought a physical pang of emptiness and loss to her heart and caused her to choke out another sob, longing for him to come find her and save her or at the very least just make the fucking hurt go away. He was good at that. At that moment, it felt like she would be able to withstand anything that shithole threw at her, so long as Daryl was there with her.

Did he know what had happened? How would he? She’d felt like she’d disappeared from that world without a trace, leaving nothing behind but a memory, something so light and delicate that it hardly even mattered anymore and could disappear in the blink of an eye and it would be like she never even existed in the first place. Should’ve just followed the plan. Should’ve listened to Daryl.

Did Tara and Aaron make it home? God, she hoped so.

Also, she hoped that Daryl wasn’t too upset; that maybe he’d found comfort in Rick or Carol’s arms, accepting the support and help. Maybe he’d be upset for the first night or two but she was sure Carol would’ve stayed with him had that been the case and he was probably fine now, coming to terms with the loss and moving on.

But she hoped, prayed to anything that was out there listening, that all of that was not the case and, in fact, he was out there searching for any sign of her. She needed that faith to latch on to -- to know that somewhere, he was following any sort of hint or clue that came up and was on his way there to rescue her, just like he always did, and wouldn’t rest or even sit until he reached her.

That’s usually what Daryl did. He wouldn’t rest until he had answers. Christ, she remembers when he’d lost Beth and later told her how he just ran and ran and ran and looked for her, refusing to give up until his knees literally collapsed underneath him in sheer exhaustion. The thought broke her heart even more and she scratched at her tired, damp eyes.

“Please, Daryl...” Tears streamed down her cheeks and burning her chilled, scraped skin. Please come find me. Please don’t give up on me. Please help me.

:-(

next chapter, we’ll see how daryl is doing after running into mr-they-took-my-wife.....

@crossbowking @jodiereedus22 @apossiblegentleman @mtngirlforever @sourwolf-sterek32 @winchester-angel @qrangr @cole-winchester @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @twdeadfanfic @crazyaboutnorman @deliciousassafrasssandwich @bunnymother93 @96ssi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

cover image source: background daryl i am the girl on the right lmao

#the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x oc #twd #twd daryl #somebody better guess this fucking game soon or so help me #i'm disappointed yall

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doodlelolly0910 · 5 years

Text

Close Encounters of the Spiritual Kind

Summary: Emma Nolan spent a lot of time alone, and that was fine by her. Because one is never truly alone. She should know. She can talk to dead people. What she didn’t expect was one of these spiritual encounters to hang around, taking her down a rabbit hole of missing women, revenge, and, least expected, love. Can she save the day and Killian Jones? Is there even another choice?

Read it from the beginning on AO3 and FFN!

A/N: Okay y'all so this chapter is a big one. Big reveal! I'm a pickle! No wait, that's something else :P But there really is some big stuff happening here. A new character introduction, more Emma and Killian bonding, lots and lots of revelations that will even carry over to next chapter. I won't say too much. I hope you guys like it! And thank you so much for all your kind words and lovely reviews. They really mean more to me than you know, even if I don't always have the time to respond to each of them as I would like. Thank you guys, so so much. And thanks also to @kmomof4 who has already had her brain exploded by this chapter (lol sorry?) and to @courtorderedcake who made the beautiful art that goes with this story and I will never be over how amazing it is. Here we go with chapter 17! Almost at the end!!! EEP!!!

Chapter 17

Emma woke up feeling refreshed for the first time in a long time. Refreshed and warm. She snuggled into the firm pillow underneath her and sighed, content. The sound of rustling paper made her wrinkle her nose and grunt. It was just annoying enough to keep her from slipping into peaceful slumber again. A chuckle sounded from beneath her head and something tightened around her back and waist, causing her eyes to snap open, her head popping up from where it had been apparently resting on Hook's t-shirt clad chest.

“Good morning, darling,” his low rumble emanated from his torso and seeped into her middle where they were pressed together, his left arm sweeping soothingly over her back. “Sleep better?” The question was light but his eyes studied her face for any signs of nightmare induced stress. Emma cleared her throat, nodding and gently disentangling herself to a sitting position beside him on the mattress. His arm slipped from its place around her and back under the blankets, the only part of him to be covered by it.

Killian Jones in the morning was far more a gorgeous sight than any human being had any right to be. His dark hair was mussed, sticking up in directions that would look odd on someone else, but on him it only left Emma wondering what it would be like to run her fingers through it. His eyes were bright and playful, his dark lashes fluttering over rosy cheeks when he blinked. He seemed… softer somehow.

“You are positively radiant in the morning, Swan,” he murmured and Emma blinked twice, not having noticed during her perusal of his face that he had been observing her as well. She played it off on a scoff, scooping her sleep tangled hair off her neck and securing it in a messy bun on top of her head.

“I’m a mess,” she objected, stretching her arms languidly over her head and wiggling her hips to work out the kinks in her back. Her face felt swollen and puffy from her sobbing during the night.

“Radiant. Like the sun.” Hook's voice pulled her attention back and she looked at him curiously. He was staring at her so intently it made her squirm involuntarily, her gaze darting away from his. That's when she saw it.

In his lap sat her leatherbound sketchbook, page open to a portrait she'd done some time ago of her grandmother. He followed her gaze and reached up to scratch behind his ear. Emma's eyes shot back up to his, her face blanched as her mind raced through everything he may have seen.

“You looked through my sketches?” she whispered. Hook sat a little straighter, letting one of his legs fall off the side of the bed and his foot rest on the floor. His cheeks had pinkened a bit and the hand that had been scratching behind his ear had now moved to rub over the scruff on his jaw.

“I rolled over onto it this morning. I didn't know what it was,” he replied, and his hand came down to rest on top of the book, keeping it there with him when all Emma wanted to do was snatch it back and run away. “You're very talented.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Emma said, reaching for the book, but Hook's hand curled over the top of it, keeping it in place on his lap.

“I have a favorite,” he murmured and Emma swallowed thickly, frozen in place. He dipped his gaze down to the book and flipped through a few pages, stopping and meeting her gaze again. Emma looked down, her heartbeat thundering through her ears.

A landscape was on the page, the docks at sunset, one of her favorite places to sit and think. She had played with new pencils that day, the colors on the page vibrant and blended together in a riot of golds and pinks and purples. It was her favorite, too. But absolutely not what she expected. She looked down at the page in confusion and looked back up to Hook’s face.

“There’s a lot of emotion here,” he explained. “A real definition of character. I like it very much.” Emma blew air out through her pursed lips, flustered at the compliment and searching for words that weren’t what she was actually thinking. She had paused just long enough for him to continue on. “I suppose you were expecting me to show you this one.” While she had searched for words, Hook, had apparently thumbed the corner of the book to the exact page she had been dreading, apparently memorized in its place in her book by its subject.

Killian Jones himself stared out from the page, his monotone features punctated by those blue, searching eyes. It wasn’t until now that Emma realized just how accurate her sketch actually was, right down to the scar on his right cheek just under his eye. His hair was tousled almost exactly as it lay now on the real life version. When she looked back up to meet Hook’s stare, the same shade of blue on the page met her as well.

“When did you do this?” he asked softly, holding her gaze. Emma felt a heat creep up over her collarbones and onto her face.

“Almost a month ago,” she replied honestly on a whisper. Killian’s eyes turned wondrous, as if he were fully understanding for the first time that she truly had been sent to him by his loved ones in the beyond. The tension in the air weighed heavier on her skin, but it had changed. Instead of a fearful sliver that wove its way into it, it was warm now, and all she wanted to do was move closer to Killian. His own gaze dropped to her lips and Emma was sure he was going to kiss her again. Until he abruptly stood, pulling his left arm behind his back and extending her book back to her, still open to the page.

“I have somewhere I think we should go today. Get dressed.” His words were short, but not unkind. Emma was confused at the sudden change in him. As much as she thought she was prepared for Killian Jones, he still found ways to keep her on her toes. Keeping his arm tucked just out of her viewpoint, Hook moved to grab some clothing of his own, along with his prosthesis, and disappeared into the bathroom, Emma assumed to change. She felt a twinge in her heart that she may have made him slightly uncomfortable with the picture, and that he felt the need to hide his arm from her. Her thoughts were soon overrun by his words though, and she wondered briefly where he might be taking her.

Emma did as he bade, dressing quickly while Killian remained in the bathroom. He finally emerged, fully dressed, hooked hand in place, just as Emma was sweeping her hair up into a ponytail. He gave her a warm smile and a fond look, which she happily returned. She was glad to see he wasn’t upset with her. She stood and made her way to her duffel, retrieving her cell and shooting off a text to Jefferson to check in for the day. She had just received a confirmation from him when she looked up to see Killian making the bed.

“Old habits die hard, huh?” she teased, gesturing to the bed. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, completing the task with a smirk. “Navy must have made a real impact.” He chuckled.

“I should have known you’d know that. Fine policemanship, Swan,” he replied, smoothing out the blanket with his hand and hook.

“It wasn’t hard once Milah gave me your name. And Liam told me later on. And if none of that happened, those corners would have been a dead giveaway,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. He laughed out loud at that, moving from the bed to the door and sweeping it open.

“After you, darling.”

Hook drove this time. Emma was slightly nervous at first when he had rested his false hand on the steering wheel, but she relaxed as time went on. As with everything he did, Killian was in complete control behind the wheel, and his taste in music wasn’t half bad either. She hummed along to Bad Company, and found out he had a nice singing voice as well when he belted out Living On a Prayer. She did not blush when he complimented her own on Barracuda with a waggle of his ridiculous eyebrows. Before she knew it, she saw a sign that read “Now Leaving Boston City Limits” and she looked over to him curiously.

“Trust me, Swan,” he said, not taking his eyes from the road, but offering her a kind smile. “You should tell that Chapelle fellow that you’ve left the city.” Emma hadn’t even thought of that, though she was sure Jefferson was tracking her phone, and she was touched that he thought of a way to make her feel comfortable. He seemed to be doing that more and more, perhaps his way of making up for the fact that he hadn’t trusted her in the beginning, and earning hers in return. She didn’t make a move to get her phone out, and instead, set her bag on the floor beneath her feet, a small gesture of her own trust in him. He smiled broadly at that and they continued on their way.

They soon turned down a country road, a dirt stretch that ran past the horizon, and Emma was even more puzzled than ever, especially when Hook parked by some trees on the side of the road near virtually nothing. He looked at her sheepishly and something twisted in Emma’s belly telling her she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

“I need you to leave your cell here, love. I can’t have anyone tracking us to where we’re going. I’m leaving mine as well,” he rushed to assure her but she was already shaking her head.

“That doesn’t sound like something I’m game for,” she said, gathering her bag into her lap. He sighed heavily.

“The person we are going to see, I’ve worked very hard to make sure she stays safe. And the only way to make sure she stays that way is if I’m the only one who knows where she is.” Killian ran a hand through his hair.

“But you’re taking me to see her,” she shot back, grip on her bag tightening.

“Aye. You, I trust.”

Emma eyed him, allowing his words to sink in. Going against every cynical bone in her body, she opened up her bag and fished out her phone, only hesitating slightly before handing it over to Hook. He captured her hand along with it, turning them over so he could kiss the back of hers firmly, keeping hold of her gaze as he did so. Something inside of Emma calmed again, and Hook joined her cell with his, opening the door and going to the tree nearest to them. He pulled out a lock box and unlocked it with a key from his belt, placing the phones inside and locking them again. He got back into the car and started it again, sighing in relief. Emma sighed for a different reason altogether as they made their journey another few miles down the road.

Emma’s anxiety and impatience grew until they had reached what appeared to be their destination, turning down a few side trails until they reached a short gravel road that her bug would have never made it through. A little farm house that looked somewhat like a fairytale cottage sat isolated at the end of the road, looking quite out of pace with it’s manicured green lawn, small rose garden, and white picket fence. Killian parked next to an older truck and gave Emma a nervous glance before darting out of the car. Emma took a few calming breaths, composing herself, and she didn’t even notice Killian had come around to her side of the car to open her door for her. She accepted his hand and they made their way to the house, him holding onto her as they walked in a way that made her feel more at ease and entirely unsettled at the same time.

As they walked up the path, the door opened and a wide eyed woman poked her head out the door. She looked at Emma fearfully, her throat working as she swallowed, but she relaxed immediately when she set her eyes on Killian. She opened the door fully, her light brown hair swinging down over her shoulders, and walked outside and towards them, wrapping Killian up in a warm hug. Killian returned the embrace one armed, his hand still wrapped firmly around Emma’s.

“Killian Jones. It’s been too long since you’ve come to see me,” the woman said in an accent that she couldn’t quite place. Nearly English, but not quite.

“Aye, I know, I’ve been a little busy. I’m sorry for that,” he said with a small smile as he pulled away. “I do have someone that I want you to meet, though. This is Emma Swan. Emma, Belle French.”

Emma wasn’t sure if his introduction with her alias was intentional or not, but she was grateful for it all the same. She reached out to shake Belle’s hand with a smile of her own.

“A pleasure to meet you, Emma,” the brunette returned and Emma replied in kind. “Come in and sit down. Tea for anyone?”

“That sounds wonderful, love, thank you,” Killian confirmed and they went inside the little house together. Belle heated the kettle on a little wood stove as she and Killian settled in the small living room, each in a plush armchair. Belle set up a tea tray and placed cups in front of each of them, pouring the water over tea bags and settling into her own place on the couch, her skirt flowing gracefully as she moved.

“So what brings you this way?” Belle asked, stirring her tea and adding a cube of sugar. Killian leaned forward and set his forearms on his knees, his fingers fiddling with his hook.

“I wish I could just say it was for a visit, love, but I’m afraid it’s business.” His tone was serious and every drop of color left Belle’s face. Emma sat more rigid at her change in expression, setting her own teacup back down on the coffee table.

“Weaver?” she asked on a shaky whisper and Emma was suddenly on very high alert. Killian reached forward and touched Belle’s hands where they had begun shaking around her teacup, removing the china from her grasp and setting it next to Emma’s.

“He hasn’t found you, love, nothing to worry about,” Hook told her firmly, grasping her hand once more. Belle let out a shaky breath, offering them both a tight, embarrassed smile and a brief chuckle. She nodded and rearranged herself on the couch, clearly trying to shake off some of her lingering nerves. Hook turned his attention to Emma, who had been watching the whole exchange with rapt attention. “Swan, do you remember the night we met, you were trying to take something from me, aye?” Emma felt her face heat again in embarrassment and fury. Her eyes darted to Belle, who didn’t look surprised at all and Emma didn’t know whether to be grateful for her lack of reaction or offended. She looked back to Killian and nodded. “And you had absolutely no idea what it was?”

“Not a single clue,” she replied, unwilling to divulge that she was associated with Gold once in any way in the presence of this woman who was clearly in hiding from him.

“It was a GPS device. It tracked a chip that used to reside with the lovely Miss French here,” Hook explained and Emma's head snapped back in the brunette’s direction. She was absentmindedly rubbing at a pink scar at the base of her wrist, and Emma assumed that was where the chip was.

“Why?” Emma asked, her heart breaking for the frightened woman. Her gaze turned back to Killian's again. “Why is he so desperate to find her again?”

“Belle was his wife,” Hook ground out the last word as if it tasted bad in his mouth. Emma's eyes widened in shock and Belle cleared her throat. Killian ducked his head, allowing her the opportunity to tell her own story.

“‘Wife’ is a bit of a strong word. My father owed him a debt. He took me as payment,” she said softly, picking at the blue cotton of her skirt as she made her admission. Emma felt rage on her behalf. How many women had he done this to?

“Belle,” Emma sat forward and spoke carefully, but her tone was serious enough to have Belle's eyes finally come up to meet hers again. “Has he taken any other wives before, since, or during your time with him? There are a lot of girls missing right now that are tied to him. I'm trying to help them.” Belle shook her head adamantly.

“It was just me. And Milah, before me,” she looked to Killian sympathetically. “Just us two. The girls he trades do usually owe him some kind of debt, though.”

Emma's breath completely evaporated from her lungs.

“The girls he trades?” she squeaked out and even Killian was sitting on the edge of his seat, eyes darkened in interest. It was clear this was all news to him as well.

“Well, yeah, the trafficking ring. Didn't you know?” Belle looked between the two of them, confused. Emma could only gape at her.

“No, lass, I'm afraid we didn't,” Hook murmured, his voice dark and dangerous. Belle’s cheeks colored and she began fiddling with her skirt again.

“If you want to save those girls, you're running out of time,” Belle said quietly with a sorrowful resignation.

“Belle, please,” Emma moved from her armchair to the couch and the other woman looked up at her, tears brimming in her eyes, “please, if you know anything, I really need your help. They really need your help, all these women that have been taken from their homes and families. Help me help them.”

Emma reached out and touched her arm gently, her eyes still shining with urgency. After a moment or two, Belle exhaled a shaky breath and nodded, giving Emma a soft half smile.

“Alright.”

The single word of assent was the biggest breakthrough Emma had gotten thus far, and none of it would have been remotely possible without Killian Jones. Whatever had set the two of them on their collision course towards one another, she would be eternally grateful.

The scent of jasmine crept up around her for the first time that day and Emma inhaled deeply, a smile spreading over her lips and she knew in that moment that justice was within her grasp. For Belle. For Milah. For all of them.

#Close Encounters of the Spiritual Kind #CSSNS #Captain Swan #Captain swan supernatural summer #chapter 17 #Monday update #csff #cs ff au #cs ff

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

The Supernatural Gospel

Chapter 10- Interrogation 35-111

Neither of them have acknowledged the bed behind them, even to take turns. Not in this room, with dad's absence staring at them from all sides.

Sam's pacing, holding his phone, and sits down on the bed. He can't decide if he's relieved or worried she didn't answer. It's just a nightmare. as her voicemail message plays. "Hey, it's me, it's about ten-twenty Saturday night—"

Dean, clean again, his short light brown hair back to its careful style and a change of clothes, comes out of the bathroom and grabs his jacket and pulls it over his jean jacket and gray shirt. Sam had taken the liberty to run it through the wash for him while he'd been in the shower, along with the towels, and was rewarded with a warm glow when he saw Dean had even taken the time to pick the mud out of the edges of the medallion Sam had given him years ago that was still strung proudly around his neck. He shrugs it on one shoulder as he crosses the room, Sam trying to ignore him with the phone still pressed to his ear.

"Hey, man. I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You want anything?"

"No." Sam watches him at the door without moving.

"Aframian's buying." Dean reminds, as if that's supposed to make it better.

Sam shakes his head, pressing the phone tighter to his ear.

Dean walked into the bright morning sun, ignoring the fact the 'do not disturb sign' got caught in the door as he closed it, and finished shrugging on his jacket as he crossed the lot, keeping the collar popped to help it air out a bit more.

He looks over and sees a police car, where the motel clerk is talking to Deputy Jaffe and Deputy Hein. The clerk points at Dean, who turns away and pulls out his cell phone.

"-So come home soon, okay? I love you." The phone beeps. Sam looks at it and presses to delete it, still unsure whether to call her back or not, then puts it back to his ear when he sees Dean calling him.

"What?" He'd literally just stepped outside, the doofus.

Outside, the deputies are approaching Dean.

"Dude, five-oh, take off." Dean's voice is low and firm.

Sam stands up at once. "What about you?" He wasn't just going to leave him now. Were they going to meet around back, or another motel?

"Uh, they kinda spotted me." He wasn't worried about that part. "Go find Dad."

Dean hangs up the phone as the deputies approach. He turns and grins at them. "Problem, officers?"

"Where's your partner?" Jaffe demands, completely faking casualness now as he crossed his arms.

"Partner? What, what partner?" Dean pretends the same.

Jaffe glances over his shoulder and jerks his thumb towards the motel room. Hein heads over there. Dean can't stop his eyes following him and licks his lips, but he's had enough practice to not really give his face away.

Sam sees Hein approaching and darts away from the window.

Jaffe's still interrogating Dean with a less friendly demeanor by the charge. "So. Fake US Marshal. Fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?"

Dean thinks for a moment before grinning. "My boobs."

Sam had just managed to get himself behind the hotel door when it burst open from the sheriff's kick, holding in a grunt of pain as it flew into his gut but managed to catch the handle before it ricocheted back off of him. The small town sheriff did his duty in checking the bathroom and even glancing under the bed, but Sam blended too well behind the door to be spotted, and he released the door as the Sheriff reached for it to slam it behind him.

Hein slams Dean over the hood of the cop car.

"You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law-" Jaffe begins his Miranda Rights while Dean's still grinning in triumph for the other returning empty handed, Sammy had gotten away.

…

SHERIFF'S OFFICE

Sheriff Pierce enters the room, carrying a box. He sets it on the table at which Dean sits, uncuffed, and goes around the table to face Dean across it. "So you want to give us your real name?

"I told you, it's Nugent. Ted Nugent." Dean even considered spelling it out.

"I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in here." The Sheriff looks almost pitiable at Dean's grin.

"We talkin', like, misdemeanor kind of trouble or, uh, squeal like a pig trouble?" Dean plays along.

Sheriff Pierce isn't letting any runaround. "You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall." Dean looks away, easily hiding his discomfort and worry that was his dad's stuff, he should be out there looking for him. This was a waste of time! "Along with a whole lot of Satanic mumbo-jumbo. Boy, you are officially a suspect." The sheriff answers Dean's question of just how much trouble he's in.

"That makes sense," Dean's impatience at all of this is growing by the second, "because when the first one went missing in '82 I was three."

The sheriff had put together more than Dean realized though. "I know you've got partners. One of 'em's an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing." The cops had been busy, putting together Dad in the same motel they'd found them in, maybe they weren't as idiotic as Dean had thought. "So tell me. Dean." He tosses a brown leather-covered journal on the table. "This his?"

The man has Dean's full attention now as he stares at Dad's journal. Sheriff Pierce sits on the edge of the table. He flips through the well worn pages: it's filled with newspaper clippings, notes, and pictures, just like what's on the walls of John's motel room.

"I thought that might be your name. See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out—I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy," Dean leans forward for a closer look, what exactly had Dad put in there to blow his cover? "But I found this, too."

He opens the journal near the very back to a notebook page that reads 'Dean 35-111', circled, with nothing else on that page.

"Now. You're stayin' right here till you tell me exactly what the hell that means."

Dean stares down at the page, then looks up. He had to get out of here and find Sam, now.

Chapter 11 - The Other Side

WELCH HOUSE

Sam, seen through the chain-link covering a grimy glass window, knocks on the door the window is in. An old man opens it: Joseph Welch.

"Hi. Are you Joseph Welch?" It was the polite way to start even if Sam was sure.

"Yeah," he does not seem happy to be agreeing.

"Would you uh, mind if I talk to you?" Sam put up that endearing little smile he'd learned as a kid. Dad said people always went easier on him when he brought Sam along and he smiled like that, so hopefully it would come in handy now.

To his surprise, it seemed to, as the man stepped onto his porch and shoved his hands in his pocket as answer.

"Um, thank you," Sam dug around in his pockets and pulled the photo he'd taken from the motel. Good thing too, as not moments after he'd gotten the car started and drove away, another police car had showed up and tapped the whole place off as a crime scene.

When Joseph sees the photo, he gives an exhausted sigh and starts walking, Sam hurrying to keep up and realizing at once he was on a time limit, all but shoves the photo into his hands. "Do you recognize this man," he jabs at his Dad.

"Yeah, he was older, but that's him," their shoes are now crunching up a gravel driveway. Joseph hands the photo back to Sam. "He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter."

Sam was both thrilled, and instantly a bit more worried. If Dad were still in town, how had they missed him, unless- "That's right. We're working on a story together." He forced himself to focus now. Just keep working the case, like Dean would do.

"Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on. The questions he asked me?" Joseph glares off into the distance, his hat dipping even lower to shade his eyes, voice going even more gruff. Sam's timespan was quickly shortening.

He kept pushing. "About your wife Constance?"

"He asked me where she was buried." Joseph still sounded disbelieving over this fact.

"And where is that again?" Sam wished he'd brought along a notebook or something now to make this more credible.

"What, I gotta go through this twice?" He demands on the petulant youth.

"It's fact-checking," Sam quickly fibs. "If you don't mind," he adds on, though what he would do if Mr. Welch did mind would be a problem.

"In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge." He sounds exhausted just thinking about it.

"And why did you move?" Sam's imagining the poor man tortured by his wife and finds it even more of a miracle he's still alive.

"I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died." He sounds very tired now, and Sam believes him.

Sam stops walking. Joseph stops too.

Sam's gotten all the information that he needs, he should politely thank the man and be on his way. It's what Dad would have done. "Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?"

The split second decision to not echo his dad doesn't give him time to decide where this is going.

"No way. Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever known."

Sam hesitates, teetering on the edge of asking about his infidelity, but softening the blow instead. "So you had a happy marriage?"

He hesitates. "Definitely."

"Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time." Sam really did begin to walk away then, let this man pretend and have his remembered happy normal life.

He stopped though in front of the impala, playing with his spare key he'd had for all these years on the same chain as his apartment key. As Dean's words echoed back to him on the bridge, as his unanswered voicemail to Jess still sat in his pocket. There was no normal in this life, and he was tired of being the only one to know and feel that. "Mr. Welch, did you ever hear of a woman in white?"

Mr. Welch turns around.

"A what?" The confusion is genuine. It would not last.

"A woman in white, La Llorona, or sometimes Weeping Woman? It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really."

Sam starts back toward Mr. Welch. The edge to his words are purely scholarly, at first. "Um, they're spirits. They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women." Sam stops in front of him once more. "You understand, but all share the same story."

Mr. Welch is a head shorter than Sam, but his tone still holds aged dismissiveness. "Boy, I don't care much for nonsense." Mr. Welch walks away. Sam follows, his conviction moving his feet and mouth. He was not going to be the only one unable to escape his past today.

"See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them." Mr. Welch stops walking, and Sam finishes the blow, "and these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children."

Mr. Welch is watching him now, his face stoned.

Sam carries on, almost vindictively, still with that forced polite edge. "Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again."

Mr. Welch can barely speak his outrage. "You think...you think that has something to do with...Constance? You smartass!"

"You tell me." Sam's knowing smile is triumphant he'd made his point. Mr. Welch would bury his head in the sand again when Sam left, but for this one moment, Sam had gotten through to someone what was out there, he could see it in his eyes.

It was that look, why he'd never share any of this with Jess.

"I mean, maybe...maybe I made some mistakes." Mr. Welch copped to that, his breath still trembling. "But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here! And you don't come back!" His face shakes, whether from anger or grief it's impossible to tell. After a long moment, he turns away. Sam sighs for what he'd done, but he doesn't regret it.

Chapter 12

…

November 2nd

"I don't know how many times I gotta tell you. It's my high school locker combo." Dean had denied a lawyer, he hadn't slept in days, and he'd now repeated that no less than a thousand times today. His attempts to charm the man into believing him had vanished in the early hundreds. He needed to get to Sam, now.

"We gonna do this all night long?" Sheriff Pierce seems more than prepared to do such a thing, to Dean's dismay. He hadn't even been offered a donut. Maybe he should ask for a lawyer, it would add more problems later, but the point was he didn't intend to be around for later. He just needed five minutes alone with that-

A deputy leans into the room. "We just got a 911, shots fired over at Whiteford Road."

"You have to go to the bathroom?" The Sheriff offers.

"No," that wasn't true either.

"Good."

The sheriff handcuffs Dean to the table and leaves. Dean nabs the paper clip poking out of the journal he'd been staring at since noon, and smiles at it. He was the one to teach Sam how to pick locks after all, and that kid had it easy with the kit.

Dean waited patiently for the commotion on the other side of the door to die down before waltzing into the row of desks and digging through them. His phone wasn't present, probably in another room somewhere being looked over, but his gun was in a baggy for holding and evidence and he didn't have the time, nor inclination to risk staying longer when he knew the number Sam was using, slipping to the nearest window and climbing down the fire escape, dad's journal safely in his arms.

Sam is driving the impala up to Breckinridge road It had taken him the rest of the day to go online and match county records with abandoned lots and try to match them against the year Constance had died to figure out which was the right house on the long ass stretch of road with far too many acres on it. By the time he'd sussed out a good pick, he'd realized how late it was and sent the police for the opposite side of town, realizing if Dean wasn't here by now he must not have gotten his chance yet to bail in his own way. They'd waited long enough, maybe Dad was there. He set the impala off now instead of waiting for his brother. when his phone rings. He pulls it out, spots the unknown number, but answers it quickly.

Dean is in a phone booth; not having taken the time to steal his back.

"Fake 911 phone call? Sammy, I don't know, that's pretty illegal." He can hear Dean's grin through the phone.

"You're welcome." Sam smiles back.

Thanks out of the way, Dean tries to get to the message Dad left. "Listen, we gotta talk-"

"Tell me about it," Sam misses the message hint. "So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop."

"Sammy, would you shut up for a second?" Dean tries again, man that kid had a motor mouth when he got going.

"I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet," the timing of it all is still bothering Sam greatly.

"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho." Dean finally got in.

"What? How do you know?" Sam's foot eases off the gas instinctively to turn in this new direction.

"I've got his journal." Dean grips it tighter, the worry for his dad increasing with every clenched finger.

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing." Sam needlessly points out.

"Yeah, well, he did this time." Dean sighed, the reasons why rolling through his head, each worse than the last.

"What's it say?" Sam wants verbatim, like Dean had misread the message.

"Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going." Dean glares around the glass to assure no one was listening in, if Dad had been worried about that maybe he should be to.

"Coordinates. Where to?"

"I'm not sure yet," did he look like a satellite phone?

"I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?" None of this was adding up in Sam's head. He follows a bend in the road, and slams the brake, dropping the phone: Constance right in front of him. The car goes right through her as Sam brings it to a halt.

Dean heard the squealing breaks like a flatline. "Sam? Sam!"

Sam is breathing too hard to even realize he'd dropped the phone yet, the car idling masking his brother's voice, but not Constance's echoing words from the back seat. "Take me home."

#superntural #fanfiction #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #John Winchester #jessica moore #Chuck Shurley #spn #The Winchester gospel

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forged-through-trials · 3 years

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It was a new day, and the first order of business, was drinking away the depression and existential dread left by the last job. Second order of business, was talking to Ongnar once more, and trading him some hot goods! Had to do so quickly, and early in the morning, before Ruin woke for the day and wondered where I’d gotten off to. While we did business, I asked Ongar about the word around town. He had this to say: Ongar: “Heard of Arnora and Jorundr? They were once a happy couple but that’s over now. I hear that he took all of their money and stashed it after he committed a robbery.” Trials: “...’stashed money,’ you say?” Ka-ching! Ongar: “You’ve got that look in your eye. Like a lizard after a payday, you are. She lives in the south end of town. Go talk to her and see if she’s offering any kind of reward for help.” Arnora will be step four for today. Step three will be checking on Ruin, just to let him know I’ll be taking care of some business in town and he can just chill for the day.

When I found him again, he had a strange grin on his face. Trials: “What’s got you so happy this morning?” Ruin: Ruin smiled broadly, obviously amused by my question. “You ask me why I am so cheerful? I will tell you; I have been meditating much on morality of late, and how, somehow, I have regained mine. “As you know, I was once lived in a society--” Trials: “--Bottom Text.” Ruin: “...” Ruin rolled his eyes briefly, before continuing. “--of wickedness. I witnessed much depravity, but kept my objections to myself. “Perhaps if I had voiced my objections, I could have prevented suffering. Or perhaps, I would have suffered along with the victims. I’ve agonized much over whether or not I should have stood up.” Trials: “You were just being cautious. You can’t help anyone if you’re dead.” Ruin: “A very pragmatic analysis. Perhaps I have been too idealistic? “Yet, I cannot help but feel that in remaining silent, I ultimately condoned the cruel actions of my kindred. I wanted to put an end to the suffering caused by my fellows, but I was afraid.” Trials: I raised a brow at him, and crossed my arms. “Why would that thought make you so cheerful?” Ruin: He smiled a little more broadly at that. “I would have thought the answer was obvious. Yesterday, helping the Lirrian Widow find justice, things like that have helped to bring morality into focus, for me. Whereas before, everything blended into a mush of gray, I’m beginning to see the world in the appropriate shades of black and white; good and evil. “I am cheerful because, for the first time in a long time, the world feels as though it is making some sense. Properly divided into black, white, and the gray in between.” Trials: I clicked my tongue, meditatively, and scratched my chin. “...which color do you think you fall into?” Ruin: His brow furrowed in surprise at that pointed question. “I’m... not entirely sure, just yet... though I’m starting to get an idea. Now that I’ve established a firmer moral scale, I can begin to determine where I reside on it. And I suspect some aspects of your moral shading will rub off on me, if we continue to travel together. “By my reckoning, that’s not necessarily a bad thing.” I blushed at that last statement, and Ruin gave a chortle as he managed to get under my scales. He thanked me for my time. Now that Ruin had spent the morning practicing his Speechcraft on me, I asked him if he’d be willing to take an easy day off while I looked into what we should do next. He was more than happy to kick back and drink the Fighters Guild’s mead while I did the legwork, which freed me up to look the rumor Ongar fed me about this woman, “Arnora.”

It took a little convincing to get her to open up, but that was accomplished easily enough. People always seem to open up to me after a little talk, a little pie, and maybe some greased palms. Arnora: “I’m sure you’ve heard of the details I’ve leaked; about Jorundr and his run in with the law. Well that may not necessarily be the whole story.” Trials: “So what is the ‘whole story’?” Arnora: “If you want to know that, you’ve got to agree to my scheme, first. Until then, all I can say is, there’s a lot of gold in it if you’re willing to do some work for me.” Trials: “...sssounds legit.” Arnora: “Smart answer. “Jorundr is, to put it succinctly, a thug and an ass. He’s dragged me all over hither and dither, helping him with his petty crimes. “I wouldn’t say we’re thieves . I mean, we’ve stolen things.” Trials: “As one thief to another; that is the literal definition of a thief.” Arnora: “Okay, we’re thieves. But we’re not, like, super greedy. We only take enough to get by.” Trials: “Oh, I can understand that. I only take enough to get pie.” Arnora. “...” She blinked. “Well, to put it in your terms, Jorundr kept wanting more and more ‘pie’. Then, last year, he took way, way too much pie, and--” Trials: “--Got a tummy-ache?” Arnora: “...” She groaned and rubbed her forehead. “Killed. A. Guard.” Trials: “...the analogy kind of breaks down right about here.” Arnora: “We’d waylaid a tax shipment, and Jorundr, mad with greed, killed a guard before he’d realized it. “I was mortified. We stashed the gold and hid out. But while I was off gathering food, the Bruma City Guard found our camp--” Trials: “Wow! They actually did something!” Arnora: “I know. Amazing how they can actually manage to get away from their desks and do some real work when someone messes with the Emperor’s gold, isn’t it? “Jorundr was captured--and served him right--but he’d moved the stolen gold without telling me, that fetcher! “So what I need you to do is go to Bruma Castle’s dungeon, and speak to him for me. Convince him to tell you where the gold is, and then we split it.” And that was my new job. To get some thug to spill the beans about where he stashed some stolen gold. Sounds simple enough.

In the dungeon, I was stopped by the Jailor, “Greeban.” He wasn’t too happy to see me. Less so to hear that I wanted to visit a prisoner. Jailor Greeban: “What a bother. Don’t be too long. I gotta stay with you so there isn’t any funny business.” Trials: “No funny business?” Jailor Greeban: “None. And no tomfoolery, either!” Trials: “What about mischief?” Jailor Greeban: “No mischief! And no horseplay, no shenanigans, or chicanery! No devilry, no deviltry, no pranks, japes, or jigs, and absolutely no naughtiness!” Trials: “...what about a little razzle-dazzle?” Jailor Greeban: “...” He frowned harder at me, sticking out his lower lip. “...Okay, a little razzle-dazzle, because I wanna see it. But just a little!”

Geeban followed me into the dungeon. Jorundr was easy enough to spot, having a large cell to himself. I approached the bars, and spoke to him. Trials: “You’re ‘Jorundr’, right? I’m here to ask you about the Tolen-say Old-gay.” Jorundr: “...wat?” Trials: “The Tolen-say Old-gay. Tell me what I want to know, and maybe I’ll slip you a Ock-lay Ick-pay.” Jorundr: “...whatever you just said, you can forget it!”” Trials: I grit my teeth, balled fists shaking. “Listen, Upid-stay! Tell me about the Tolen-say Old-gay, and I’ll give you a Ock-lay Ick-pay, so you can Eak-bray out of the Ungeon-day!” Jailor Geeban: He knocked on the wall next to me. “Hey! That’s sounding an awful lot like horseplay over there!” Trials: “It’s more like ‘wordplay’.” Jailor Geeban: “No ‘play’ of any sort while you’re down here. Hurry it up!” Jorundr: “Look, I don’t talk to outsiders. No way to know if the guards put you up to this. So you might as well just blow away, because you’re not getting anything out of me.” Huh. So, the trick here is to convince him I’m not in league with the guards. I considered the problem, sizing up the imprisoned Nord, and the jailor. I grumbled, knowing one quick way to get on the Nord’s good side, but being unwilling to do it. Turning to the guard, I sighed and grumbled to myself; “Think of the gold, Trials. Think of the gold.” That decided, I held up both hands, palms open, reminding Geeban about how I’d promised to show him a little razzle-dazzle... then I quickly balled a fist and punched him right in the nose. He managed to shout: “You’re under--” before the sucker-punch took effect, and he flopped over like a cinder-block, crashing through a table on the way down. Jeez, it’s gettin’ so that a lizard-gal can’t even get arrested properly around here! About an hour later, he finally woke up and arrested me, throwing me into lockup, next to Jorundr. ...I’m beginning to think this wasn’t such a good idea. Plans that involve me ending up in the dungeon rarely go good places. Plus, how am I going to explain this to Ruin? “Hi, Ruin, I kind of got arrested. Bring bail-money.” He’ll never let me live it down!” But, I’m here, so there’s nothing to do but try to charm the info about the gold out of Jorundr.

Before I could, however, a guard approached his cell. From what I could pick up of the conversation, the guard was named ‘Tyrellius Logellus’ ... or possibly ‘Horse’s Ass’, as Jorundr called him both. Tyrellius: “Ready to talk, yet? You’ve got nothing to lose, so why not just tell me about the gold and save us both a heap of trouble?” Jorundr: “Yeah, sure, and I suppose I just end up rotting while you spend it all? Forget it!” Tyrellius: “You’re gonna end up rotting here anyway, you idiot!” Jorundr: “I never trusted city guardsmen. Never. So I’m definitely not going to start trusting you!” Tyrellius: “Suit yourself. Enjoy your stay.” Tyrellius stormed off in a huff after that, clearly quite butt-mad that Jorundr wouldn’t tell him what he wanted to hear.

Trials: “...did he just not even offer you any kind of deal? Maybe it’s just me, but I’ve personally never found ‘just tell me, bruh’ a persuasive argument.” Jorundr: “It wouldn’t matter if he did offer me a deal. I’d never cut one with that Milk-Drinker. You, on the other hand, hehe, I can tell you’re no friend of the guards. Not by the way they chucked you in here for that love tap you gave Geeban.” Trials: “FIN-ally! Okay, let’s talk about that Tolen-say Old-gay.” Jorundr: “...listen, I’ll talk to you about the Stolen Gold, but knock it off with the Pig-Imperial, will you?” Trials: “...you understood me this whole time?” Jorundr: “I did. I just didn’t trust you. Also--” He proceeded to punch me right in the snout, knocking me on my tail. “--that’s for calling me ‘stupid’ earlier.” I awoke an hour later in a daze, but Jorundr helped me up, and explained to me what he wanted. Jorundr: “I want you to kill Arnora for me.” Trials: “...I’m not really an assassin. Can I just give her a strongly worded letter from you instead?” Jorundr: “Only if you stab her with the pen.” Trials: I paled a little at that. “Why do you even want her dead so badly?” Jorundr: “Because she sold me up the river! Can you believe it? She killed a guard, and had the nerve to pin it on me, selling out our camp to the Bruma City Watch!” Trials: “Huh. She said you’re the one who killed the guard.” Jorundr: “That treacherous witch would say something like that! Everyone is willing to believe I’m violent, just because I punch people who annoy me!” Trials: “...” I rolled my eyes at him. “Yeah, who could possibly get that impression about you? “Now, I don’t suppose you’d take something else in trade for the location of the gold, would you?” Jorundr: “No. And I want proof that she’s dead. Like that amulet she’s always wearing. You bring me it as proof she’s dead, and I’ll tell you where the gold is.” Gentle-reader, I don’t think I need to tell you that I ain’t killin’ nobody in cold blood. But this scheme has effectively hit a wall, so I will need to talk to Arnora and try to figure out what we’re going to do next. ...after I get out of the dungeon. There’d better be a lot of gold in that stash to make up for this indignity. Thankfully, nobody here really likes Geeban, so punching him in the face only holds a maximum sentence of ‘cool your heels for a day’. I was out and about shortly there after, and I rushed over to Arnora’s house to fill her in.

I arrived in time to interrupt her Destruction Practice. I stepped in front of the target to get her attention... and got zapped for my trouble! Arnora: She gasped. “Wh-why would you just walk in front of my spells like that!?” Trials: Still crackling with shock-energy. “Hehehehe, it kind of tingles.” Arnora: “...well, no one ever said I was a good wizard.” Trials: “Anyway, we have a problem. Jorundr says he won’t tell me where the gold is stashed unless I bring him proof that you’re dead.” Arnora: “...y-you’re not actually going to do it, are you? Kill me, that is...” Trials: “Relax. I’m coldblooded, but I’m not a murderer.” Arnora: She sighed with relief. “Good, because otherwise I’d have to defend myself!” Trials: “What? With your puny shock-magic? Feel free to do it again. It tickled!” Arnora: “...” She groaned and sat back on the chest behind her. “I admit it, if you really wanted to kill me, you could. But maybe we can just make Jorundr think I’m dead. Just long enough for him to tell you where he stashed the gold. “What did he want as proof?” Trials: “He said he wants ‘the amulet she’s always wearing’.” Arnora: “Ugh! Of course that pig would ask for that. It’s a family heirloom!” She proceeded to retrieve a red-gemmed amulet, completely separate from the blue one she was actually wearing, from a nearby chest. “Here, take it!” Trials: “...so, I tell you he wants the amulet you’re always wearing, and you give me one that you weren’t actually wearing.” Arnora: “What? They’re both family heirlooms. Besides, Jorundr likes to play mind-games like that. Trust me, this is the one he wants.” Trials: I rolled my eyes. “Fine, but if he punches me again, I’m passing it on to you!”

From there, it was a quick trip back to the castle dungeon. Geeban was... not happy to see me again, but kept his distance as I went in to visit Jorundr. Jorundr: “Did you take care of Arnora?” Trials: “Oh, yes, she’s totally dead. Dead as a door-nail. Dead duck. Dead meat. Dead, dead-dead! She is no more. She’s ceased to be! She’s expired and gone to meet the Nine. She’s now the late Arnora. She’s a stiff! Bereft of life, she rests in peace! If not for all the snow she’d be pushing up daisies! She’s pulled down the final curtain and joined the Choir Invisible. She... is your EX... girlfriend!” Jorundr: “...guess I’m single, now!” He rubbed his hands together. “Okay, now show me the proof.” Trials: I retrieved the red amulet from my pack, and showed it to him. Jorundr: “Wow, you got the one she keeps stowed away! She must really be dead because she’d never even pull that one out of her trunk!” Trials: I rolled my eyes at him. “Yeah... never... anyway, let’s talk about the gold!” Jorundr: “Right, right. The gold is buried outside the walls of Bruma, near the North Gate.” Trials: “Neat! Pleasure doin’ business with you.” Jorundr: “Goodbye. I don’t expect to be seeing you anytime soon. If I were you, I’d get out of Bruma fast before the guards catch on that she’s dead.” And there we have it. A bit more complicated than I would have preferred, but I have the info. That gold is as good as mine!

#the elder scrolls #oblivion #modded #let's play #roleplay #ask blog

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