#but ultimately i just feel so... dreadfully alone

[maple-the-awesome]

Color Blinded ||

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Words: 4,733

Overview: People are born seeing in black and white with the promise that they'll finally see color the moment they first look into their soulmate's eyes. For reasons that should be obvious, Matt has lost all hope in ever finding his own soulmate. I've been working on this dang prompt since the beginning of my blog and now finally, after suffering endless months of writers block and several rewrites, it's finally done in time for my 500 followers milestone🥳 ~ Maple

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"Oh, those are beautiful!"

You hum at Karen's greeting comment which sticks in your head more than you'd care to admit. Leaning in to inhale the pleasant aroma, you decide that the bouquet certainly does smell beautiful if that's what she means, although you doubt it is.

Peeking at the bundle of roses through half-lidded eyes, you can't say you're particularly impressed by those dark veins carved into each delicate petal, only succeeding in making them appear both old and wrinkled. That being said, they're dreadfully boring in your own judgment, but even so, you don't doubt that they must look wonderful to everyone else.

"I'll take your word for it."

"Are they a gift from someone special?" Her hint is innocent enough, given through a giggle and teasing sway of her body yet it causes a sudden arrow to pierce your heart.

Ever so carefully, you select the best looking rose (still based on your own poor judgment) and hand it to the surprised secretary, "The corner store near my apartment just got a fresh shipment so I thought, since people usually like flowers, maybe I could bring some for the firm - as a sign of appreciation for all your help...I know. It isn't much, but I-"

"-That's very thoughtful of you."

You pray no one notices the way you turn a little too quickly to the voice, your heart lurching before filling with a familiar warmth that would be considered a welcomed comfort if not for how inappropriate it is in the given situation. Of course, because there's nothing appropriate about the way you view Matthew Murdock; your lawyer in whom you share a strictly professional relationship, thus respect and gratitude should be the extent of your feelings towards the man.

Alas, as Matt leans against his office door with a radiant smile that makes your heart flutter like a hummingbird's wings, you allow yourself to foolishly imagine - even if just for a blink - that said smile is built custom for you and you alone. How outlandish.

It's honestly quite pathetic how you're able to hand Foggy a rose without falter yet the same steady hand trembles like a leaf by the mere action of extending one towards Matt. There, you hover the blossomed flower in the air awkwardly before rather shamefully realizing your terrible error and the reason as to why he doesn't accept it despite your wordless prompt; he can't take what he doesn't see.

"H-Here. For you, Mr. Murdock."

"Thank you," His voice is whispered and deep - sinfully so - as his reach fumbles about until finally brushing against your hand which he uses to then guide his own to the rose's stem. The feeling of his calloused fingertips running all too slowly over your skin made you dizzy which is perhaps what ultimately led you to miss the miraculous way Matt avoids every thorn once officially claiming the rose as his own despite the complete clumsiness of his previous touch seconds ago.

You never stood a chance at functioning properly after that, far too focused on him as he lifts the rose to his nose for a sniff, letting it brush just under his nostrils with a tickle that makes the corners of his plump lips twitch upwards into his cheeks to form a gentler smile than before. Huh. He hasn't shaved recently it seems. His facial hair is more noticeable than it had been when you first came to the firm a few weeks ago -

"They're pink!" You blurt out, warmth immediately rising to your cheeks, "I, um...The shop had a list of all the rose color meanings and pink supposedly means gratitude, so I wanted to get pink ones. They are pink...aren't they?"

"Well, I'd sure say so! This has got to be the deepest shape of pink I've ever seen on a flower! Hey, think it'll look nice on my suit? Maybe I should start wearing one everyday?" Foggy's kind enough to reassure, holding the rose to his pocket and striking a few dramatic poses which gains a chuckle from Karen.

"Are roses even court appropriate attire?"

"Who cares? It's Wednesday! On Wednesday we wear pink, Karen!"

You stand in silence, watching as the two bicker playfully in a conversation that feels too distant to join yourself despite only being mere feet away. Filled with dismay once again, you find it difficult not to peer down at the remaining roses in longing, wishing to see even a blink of their bright hue.

You've heard pink's a beautiful color found in flowers and the sunset. According to your sister, a blanket in your house is an ugly shade of pink, and Foggy says the color suits Karen as she tucks her rose behind her ear carefully, yet you wouldn't be able to confirm any of those points. Your world is still locked in the curse that is monochrome...

"Are you wanting to get started discussing the case for tomorrow?" Your wandering thoughts are interrupted by Matt who sets a tender hand on your shoulder, showing a noticeable look of concern despite it being mostly hidden behind his black glasses.

"Oh yes, sorry! The case, yeah, of course..." Fortunately, the lawyer merely chuckles at your disorderly state before stepping aside and gesturing to his office with his cane. Gratefully you enter, taking your usual seat in front of his desk where you fidget while he takes his time sitting opposite and retrieving his case notes.

A bouquet of simple roses, regardless of their color, truly doesn't hold a candle to how appreciative you are to the members of Nelson and Murdock. Thus far they've provided quality work for a price you can actually afford on your tight budget, making them forever your saviors. Matt himself has been particularly helpful, treating your case as if it's been some sort of order given to him directly from God. He never wastes a second leaping into business and goes the extra mile by repeating himself as often as necessary to ensure you understand everything properly which is always nice, after all, you could listen to his voice for hours.

Seeing that there's still plenty to tend to involving your case, you expect Matt to begin promptly discussing any updates and what to be prepared for in regards to the lawsuit, however his hand instead hesitates over his notes before he moves it to his mouth to hide his cough, "I take it you haven't found your soulmate yet?"

"...H-Huh?"

Many would deem that a wildly inappropriate question especially for a lawyer to ask his client. Soulmates are sacred and intimate, not often discussed with strangers or in professional settings, however you'd like to at least call Matt somewhat of a friend - he's definitely treated you with the kindness of one - therefore you don't show any offense towards his innocent curiosity. After all, why should he be blamed? Apparently, you're the one stupid enough to make it so obvious that a blind man can take notice.

Ah, soulmates; a pair designed only for each other, holding such a special bond that meeting for the first time quite literally changes their entire perspectives on life in an instant. How so? Because everyone's born seeing the world in monochrome, color only being granted them once looking directly into the eyes of their soulmate for the first time. This is why you can't make out the color of your roses or the sky above or even the supposedly bright 'yellow' taxi you take here each day; you've never met your other half...

This realization and the knowledge that Matt's been able to piece it together strikes an insecurity of yours which you attempt to cover by redirecting his question quickly, "Have you?"

He laughs, although you'd say it sounds a bit bitter if you didn't know any better, "Wouldn't know if I did, I'm afraid."

Your face burns with embarrassment once more, shame sinking into your stomach, "Oh God, right. I'm so sorry, Mr. Murdock. I wasn't thinking - of course, you're blind, but...I mean unless your soulmate's blind as well, I would think - I would just think that they'd say something when you meet, so wouldn't you know that way?"

"I suppose so..." Matt gives a thoughtful hum, but it's soon followed by a frown, "Unfortunately, people aren't always truthful."

"You think someone would lie about being your soulmate?"

He pauses, his frown only deepening after being tainted by a sour memory, "...Someone did..."

You frown, too, at this confession, but it only takes a split second for this sympathy towards Matt to turn into fury, "Why would someone lie about that?! That's so cruel! I mean, I guess I could see why someone would lie with you because they'd have the opportunity and you're, like, the jackpot, so of course it would be tempting to keep you and all, but soulmates are supposed to be special! You can't force that type of bond and lying about it would only end up hurting both parties in the end!"

"'The Jackpot', hmm?" Matt echoes smugly at the end of your rant.

You blink, reviewing your own words in search of the mistake. After locating it, your face burns so warm that you should be worried about overheating, however you're a little too busy being embarrassed for that to cross your mind.

"Well yeah...You...You're a nice guy - from what I've seen, anyways. You're well mannered and you work hard to do what's right even if it's not financially rewarding in the end which are traits any girl would - should, at least, swoon over. You're also, um...You're not bad looking in any way..." You mumble the last part pathetically, pulling on the fabric of your shirt as a nervous habit.

You swear he leans closer over the table, his voice low and husky on purpose as if he can hear how fast it makes your heartbeat; as if he understands it's a dangerous temptation for you, "So, you find me attractive?"

"Yes, well, I'd, uh...I'd say you are, but..." you glance up at him for a second, hating how flustered even your reflection looks in his tinted glasses," - But I've actually heard Foggy say the same thing, hasn't he? Yeah, in fact, when I first came in he made that joke about how you get all the ladies because of your looks so apparently it's common knowledge through Hell's Kitchen that Matt Murdock is one good looking lawyer."

Much to your relief, he finally leans back with a chuckle towards your words, "Is that so?"

You nod too quickly, folding your hands over your lap and sitting straighter as a poor attempt to get your body and nerves to calm down, "Yeah...A-Anyways, about the case...?""Right, right. The case," he nods, fixing his glasses before returning his hand to the paperwork in front of himself. Little do you know, he hears the way you exhale and fidget in your chair, remaining flustered from the previous conversation well into the next, which is a thought that keeps that devilish smirk tugging on his lips.

It's gotten late - possibly the latest you've ever stayed at the firm. There's no longer a faint white glow of light peeking through the blinds, but there is a dim echo off the small desk lamp. While it protects the room from complete darkness, it's not enough to save you from having to squint at your paperwork to see it properly. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so difficult if you could just make out different color gradients…

Putting you to shame, Matt doesn't seem to be struggling at all. He effortlessly moves his hands over each textured line of his papers, reading faster than you ever could even in perfect lighting. You've stopped to watch him for a bit, noting the slightly darker strips of scars cutting across his knuckles and the vague change in shade against his palms - callouses, you'd guess.

If brave enough (which you unfortunately are), you'd sneak a glance at his face, hoping to make it secret and quick enough to temporarily satisfy that yearning in your heart. You stupidly convince yourself that this task will be easy considering a blind man can't possibly catch you staring, can he? 

You managed to do it exactly three times, losing count of the seconds in between each. The first two attempts were as promised: quick and like a shadow. You had looked up, eyes locking on his face while you tried to imagine the buzz against your fingertips which you assumed would be the effect provided if you set them run over his stubble. You had looked up again, focusing on the scent of his colloque. You can smell it from here and wonder if it smells stronger around his neck. 

You had looked up one last time, taking instant notice of the smirk Matt tries to lick away before ducking his head when that isn't successful. Absolutely mortified, you looked down at your lap with a stammering heart, promising never to sneak another glance at him again...It turns out a blind man can catch you staring…

Since then, you've remained like a statue, reading your files like a good girl because isn't that why you're here? Matt Murdock's your lawyer, not your eye candy! You should be treating him with respect, not gawking at him like a teenager does the boy band posters in her room!

Breaking this suffocating silence, Matt taps his own set off papers against the desk to file them into a neat stack, "Well, what do you think?"

"What do I think...?" You echo, crashing into the ground of reality so hard it knocks everything you've just read right out of your head.

"About the proposed settlement?" He leans forward a bit, his arms crossed over the desk and his eyebrow perked upwards. He's relaxed (as always), but carries a hint of concern in his voice that digs into your heart further than you'd care to let him in on. 

How pathetic is it that you swoon at even the slightest bit of care shown to you by a guy? Of course, you truthfully don't behave this way around just any guy, only Matt, however you'd feel better admitting you're starved of affection rather than say you’re entirely parched by the thought of the man in front of you.

"This is only an estimated amount that they've proposed. We'll go over official negotiations with the council, however I wouldn't recommend taking anything less than this offer," possibly sensing the way you play with your hands and chew on your lip, Matt adds softly, "As your lawyer and representative, I'll be there with you at every moment to ensure you aren't cheated in anyway. All you have to worry about yourself is listening along and signing the papers if you decide the agreed upon amount is fair. If you have any concerns, you can voice them directly to me and I'll deal with the council...I just want to make sure you understand that taking this settlement doesn't mean the company is admitting fault -"

"- They'll just be giving me money to keep my mouth shut."

"Pretty much," Matt nods with a frown, "You'll be signing a contract agreeing to never speak about the matter again - not the settlement itself or what happened. That means you won't be able to sue them at a later date nor does anyone within the company have to be held responsible for what happened either - unless the corporation decides to take corrective action itself."

You sigh, gazing over the paperwork while considering the offer. Going with the settlement, you'll leave with a pretty decent chunk of money (more than you make in a year's salary) which will be somewhat worth all the bullshit you had experienced at your former place of employment, however you're hesitant towards the idea of letting your asshole bosses get away with all the discrimination and favoritism they let poison your life for the last few years. Still...You really don't want to take this to an actual court where the outcome isn't guaranteed to be any better.

"...I understand," you sigh again, tangling a hand in your hair, "I just want to get this over with..."

"I'm sure you do. Nearly five years of being cheated out of raises and higher positions - anyone would be tired of it, but -" You nearly flinch when Matt's hand finds itself over yours on the desk, his thumb gently running over the skin. To top it off, he has that concerned expression again that makes him look so soft and loving…yet he’s only your lawyer, "- I don't want you to make a choice on that alone. If you truly want to go through with the lawsuit, I'll do whatever I can to make it less stressful for you -"

"- It's fine, Matt," you give your best smile, sandwiching his hand between both of yours, "I think the settlement is my best option. With it, I can start moving on with my life. That company took five years of my time, they're not getting a second more.”

He returns your smile. For some reason, he makes no attempt at moving his hand away. Instead, he lets you forget about it, not speaking a word of protest as you find yourself getting lost in the moment. 

How is it that you can feel more chemistry with someone in such a simple place - a broken down little law firm surrounded by paperwork - than you've felt on any date in your life? If you're this infatuated with a random guy like Matt, how are you possibly going to survive the heart tremors that your soulmate will give you?

"You guys are still working in here?" A part of you wants to celebrate Foggy's interruption as he peeks his head through the office door, but behind him you can see Karen slipping on her coat, letting you know that your time with Matt has officially come to end. 

"We've just finished actually," Matt admits, at last giving a tug to his hand that makes you instantly retract your hold over him in embarrassment, not that he seems fazed himself.

"Great, because it's whiskey Wednesday at Josie's. You know what that means?!" Foggy cheers, earning a chuckle from his friend who's already standing.

"That I'm gonna have to drag you home tonight?"

Shyly, you shuffle off to the side, wiggling on your own jacket while wondering how difficult it will be to get a taxi at such a late hour. You're prepared to wish everyone goodnight and be on your way, but then Foggy turns to you, "You're coming too, right (Y/n)?"

"Me?"

"Of course, the more the merrier!" He says.

"O-Oh, um..."

"It'll be fun," Karen insists.

You're still hesitant, not being one for bars not to mention you have so much on your plate this week. You should really get home and consider this settlement more - reread the proposal, recite your testimony in case you're quizzed about it later, mentally prepare yourself for the stress...

The final nail to your coffin is Matt - it's always Matt. Foggy and Karen are sweet and they make you feel welcomed, but Matt is the one with an inhuman ability to make you feel like a cloud simply by setting his hand on your shoulder and smiling so sweetly, "It might be a nice way to get your mind off of things."

How can you honestly say no to more time with him? Oh yeah, you can't…

You've never been to Josie's before, although you aren't surprised by that fact considering it seems to be an easily missed hole-in-the-wall bar with room temperature beer and sticky seats. Despite this, the others seem to be having lots of fun, officially having gone numb to all the health code violations around you guys.

Foggy and Karen are currently on their third round of playing pool where the loser must take a shot. You had played the first round with them and lost. After that, you decided it’s far more amusing to sit back and watch the show than to partake in it.

"I'm assuming you guys come here often?" You ask distantly, letting your voice drift off with the sound of loud voices and clicking glasses that makes the bar feel much busier than it actually is, yet somehow Matt still hears you.

He brings his beer bottle to his lips, poorly hiding his smirk, "What gave that away?"

"Well to start, the owner rolled her eyes the second we walked through that door and neither of those two have crashed yet showing they've had practiced -"

"- They could've had 'practiced' at any bar."

"We're not in a courtroom, you know, so don't have to poke holes in my argument like that…" You tease lamely, shifting in your chair to face him fully instead of Foggy and Karen at the pool tables. 

You've always cursed yourself for not being professional around Matt, but tonight you’ve officially met a new awful low. This table is small - small enough that when you moved in your chair, your knees ended up brushing with his. On top of that, he has long removed his jacket, his white sleeves sinfully rolled up past his elbows showing just a hint of the impressive muscle to his biceps. It's insane how much one little jacket can hide. You wonder how much muscle he had built elsewhere. His shirt is definitely too tight, not leaving much for your imagination -

"- What are you thinking about?" 

Your breath hitches, your eyes darting from his chest to his eyes. There's the damn smirk again - the same that makes you doubt whether he's truly blind considering he has such a good record when it comes to calling out your stare.

"N-Nothing..."

"'Nothing' makes you that nervous?" He's honestly having fun with this, isn't he?

"I...I was thinking about the settlement," you excuse, propping your elbow on the table while hoping to distract yourself by drawing invisible designs against the surface.

Matt crosses his arms, leaning back. You swear he purposefully bumps your foot with his, "As I've said, there's nothing to worry about. Believe me, they wouldn't have even offered you a cent unless they were scared of the dirt you have on them. We have this thing in the bag."

"You seem confident," you comment quietly, earning a devilish smile from him.

"Would you rather me be nervous?"

"Maybe not with a case, but now that you mention it, I don't think I've ever seen you be nervous before. It seems like I'm always the one stumbling over my own words."

"I suppose it comes with the profession. It wouldn't send the best message to my clients if they see me fumbling around. Believe it or not, but I've got an important reputation to keep as a 'jackpot' lawyer," Matt jokes, drawing a laugh from you, although you still feel a prick of embarrassment over the callback.

"Are you ever going to let me live that down?" You groan, hanging your head low dramatically, however the smile remains on your face and Matt knows it. 

"Not for a while, no."

"Be careful, Murdock. Keep teasing me so much and I might leave a bad review," you quickly snatch your glass, downing a gulp of bitter alcohol which gives you enough confidence to add, "Don't wanna ruin your status as 'jackpot lawyer', do you?"

He laughs heartily and shakes his head. The action causes his glasses to slip on his nose slightly. Anyone else wouldn't be so bothered by this, however he is, finding the new position itchy against his skin. Without thinking too much of it, he decides to remove the problem completely, taking his glasses off and setting them in front of himself, "You know what? Why don't we just call it a truce? If Foggy hears, I'll be the one who never lives it down."

"Aw, you seemed like you liked the nickname, though? Why the change of heart, Murdock?" You tease, your giggles echoing through your glass before you finally set it down and look at him. It's amazing how much alcohol and a bit of laughter can make you feel this at ease, but it doesn't last long.

"...What's wrong?" Matt notices your silence rather quickly, although it was the skip in your heart beat that truly set off the alarm in his head. Your whole body goes tense and he can once again feel your eyes staring at him which he normally doesn't mind nor would he mind if not for your sudden change in overall behavior.

When he repeats the question again in a whisper, you merely hum, barely catching his concern even then. Instead, you become lost in the moment, forced to trust your rapidly beating heart to guide your muddled brain as you speak without much forethought, "...You're eyes - they're beautiful...They're the most beautiful color I've ever seen..."

It takes Matt a second to catch onto your exact words, pairing them with your body's reaction that shares your sudden amazement. Even so, he's reluctant to ask, fearing one of the possible answers to his own question, "Am I...Do you see color right now?"

"I do...I can see color," you confirm breathlessly, your surprise soon transforming into a giddy grin that almost reaches your ears. Leaning forward, you try to get a better look at the man before you through your new vision. Your hand moves as if prepared to reach towards him, however you keep it hovering in the air, "...I can finally see color..."

When you let your hand slowly drift back down to the table, it doesn't take long before Matt's brushes over it, remaining there as his face twists into a series of emotions. First, there's hesitance and fear, then a flash of sorrow before finally a gentle smile. 

Staring into his unfocused eyes, you almost lose yourself, forgetting that you're in fact sitting in the middle of a busy bar with your lawyer who is apparently that one special person you're meant to spend your life with...but it's then that you come to another realization that almost jolts you away from him, your words in a panic, "I-I promise I'm not lying either! I'd never lie about this to you, Matt! I really do see color, so I think you're my -"

You don't get to finish your drawn off sentence before his lips are pressing softly against yours, his hand moving yours to his cheek where it had desired to be to begin with. You had no sense of time to tell you how long you remain like that before he pulls away, forehead set against yours as his breath cools your lips, "...I'm your soulmate."

"You believe me?"

He chuckles, pecking your lips in a kiss that doesn't last nearly long enough. Matt has never admitted it to anyone, however a part of him has always feared the idea of ‘soulmates’. If they’re found through color, how would he ever find his perfect match without sight and would they even want him? 

Those insecurities only got worse after he was lied to. He knew it was a lie, too - of course he knew, he can sense the signs the human body gives off while fibbing - yet he played dumb and pretended to believe it. Why? Maybe he was too poisoned by young love, desperately wanting to believe the woman before him was his soulmate. Perhaps he was just scared he’d never find his real soulmate anyways, so why not take what he was being handed since beggars can’t be choosers? 

Then you came into the picture. Matt may not be able to confirm your connection through any form of color, but he can definitely say he felt something special from the second you first came into Nelson & Murdock searching for help. 

Some part of him realized it by the way your laughter lights a fire in his heart or how the thought of you sticks in his mind like glue throughout each day and night. Still…He was too afraid to act upon this feeling - too afraid to let himself live the chance that you could even possibly be his soulmate, although he can feel safe admitting it now: he’s been silently hoping this entire time that it would be you and it seems his instincts have been correct.

"You're my soulmate," Matt whispers, returning his lips to yours for a third time that mirrors the first: a long and loving kiss that makes you both echo out the rest of the world as you hold dearly onto the fact that neither of you will ever have to be alone again.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil x reader #daredevil #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel one shot #nelson and murdock #x reader #reader insert #fluff #soulmate au #matt murdock x reader soulmates

[sleebyfrogs]

Okay so just imagine like. You’re just a little guy. You have no parents and your grandfather who raised you has always disparaged and disapproved of the very fact that you exist, for reasons utterly beyond your control. People enjoy your presence because you’re polite and charming the same way they enjoy flowers in spring, which is to say in passing and ultimately without any real connection.

And then you meet this guy who is just like. obsessed with you. He always wants to be around you and he derives true joy from it without you having to say anything funny or clever or lie for politeness’ sake. He creates art that he loves of you and because of you. Indirectly, you are suddenly able to put joy and beauty into the world, anything into the world, because you inspire him. You never imagined you would leave any kind of footprint the way things were before, because nothing you had was meaningful or lasting. And he flatters you dreadfully, he tells you how incredibly beautiful you are, and whether you realise it or not, you can feel that at least part of this value that he has found in you, that he has given you, comes from that beauty.

And then one day you meet his friend, who is older than you and cooler than you and a lord, and so witty and eloquent that you struggle just trying to keep track of whatever the fuck he’s talking about (and he always sounds like he knows everything about it), and he’s been this guy’s friend much longer than you have, and he also compliments you on your beauty and so seemingly that is the only quality of any worth that you possess, right? And then he waxes on and on about how it’s the only thing worth having and explains that what you have is actually incredibly valuable and fragile and precious, and that you are inevitably going to lose it and there’s nothing you can do. And also he says all this while you’re having your gay awakening because he’s sweet-talking you in a way you’ve never experienced and it’s uhhhhh it’s something. So then while you’re having a complete existential crisis over this your mutual friend calls you over to show you the most exquisite painting you’ve ever seen in your life and it’s of you. You didn’t know you could be so beautiful to anyone, you didn’t know he could create anything so beautiful, you didn’t know beauty on this level could even be captured in art. And that’s how he sees you, continually, without you having to make any effort to please him? Just to be yourself is enough to have inspired this incredible thing? You might cry. And then you realise he created it here and now and of you because on this particular day of June, you are twenty years old, and young, and pretty, and once you age out of that, you will lose the one thing anyone has ever valued in you, and surely also his interest, and you will be alone again, and worthy of nothing and no one. And because you’re also twenty years old and privileged and inexperienced you’ve never learned any capacity for nuanced thoughts and say things that are incredibly rash and stupid and regrettable.

So I’m not saying Dorian did nothing wrong but I am saying in his position I’d definitely have been a vain and terrified idiot too

#The Picture of Dorian Gray #LISTEN. My other point is that yes he should have known better but he was never given the chance to learn how to make those better decisions #The world and people that should have prepared him to be a wiser adult navigating a more complex world failed and neglected him #So in that position with the life he’d had behind him he could *never* have made a different choice even though his past was full of so many #opportunities for him to learn that if only anyone had actually given it the time of day to teach him #Yes Dorian was selfish and cruel and stupid and that is his fault #But it was also wrong of the people in his life not to have shown and taught him how to be anything else #And that’s really what makes him a very tragic character to me #Because all these things that he couldn’t control came together by sheer chance and made him an offer he had no means to refuse #and no idea he was even agreeing to #and it set him up perfectly to ruin his entire life and the lives of so many around him #Doriginal #Lord that was. an Essay and now it’s 4am girl help #Yes it was still a fight he could have won and he lost anyway. #but I do think it’s more than a little unfair that no one who was meant to ever gave him a sword.

[patrice-bergerons]

Couch

(for any pairing/fandom that’s inspiring you at the moment!)

send me writing prompts!

thank you so much for indulging me; I (predictably) went for 00q for this one-

~*~

“Perhaps I shall switch sides,” Q says idly, fingers still flying over the keyboard.  “Their systems securities manager made $2 million last year.”  

A couple of taps run the names on the payroll against MI6’s database, another does the same for outgoing payments.  They have long suspected this company of funnelling money into bioweapons and many of the ultimate beneficiaries will be hidden behind layers of shell corporations but they have been at least a little sloppy—even Q’s simple cross check lights up multiple names in their financial accounts.  He navigates to transactions with a particularly nefarious corporation headquartered in the Caimans before he stops.

Bond has not reacted to his proposal for a foray into the world of crime with so much as a grunt.

Frowning, he swivels around in his office chair.  Bond is lying prone on the couch in the back.  

Bond is-

Asleep.

Q swallows down the surge of panic in his chest.  Bond is asleep.  Smart Blood tracks the vitals of all field operatives and Q has alarms set up for any unexpected fluctuations, let alone-

He shakes his head and glances at the clock which claims that it’s, somehow, 1.43am.  

That seems wrong.  

Wondering whether he broke his computer, he stands up, and his body informs him that no, he has been sat there analysing data for three hours without a moment’s break.  His bladder is strongly requesting to be relieved, his shoulders and neck are dreadfully stiff; a headache has been stewing in the background for some time.

Stretching his arms, and still a little disoriented, he walks over to the couch. 

Just like he thought, Bond is fast asleep on it, lying on his side with his head pillowed on the armrest.  

Bond showed up at Q-branch just after dinner.  He was meant to be on bedrest, having managed to get himself shot a couple of weeks ago, but he told Q that if he spent one more second in his flat, he would have to go and murder someone.  Q was lost in cracking an encryption so novel and strong that it bested all his minions, and Bond actually did not make a nuisance of himself for once—just pulled up a chair and let Q use him as his rubber duck, even offered a suggestion that helped Q find what he was missing in the end.  Three hours ago.  Christ.

Bond’s cheek is smooshed gracelessly against the leather, his legs drawn up towards his chest.  He is frowning even in sleep with an arm wrapped around himself, cradling an injury that is yet to fully heal, no matter what he claims.

“I take absolutely no responsibility for this, just so you know,” Q whispers as he drapes his coat over him, very gently lest he find a vice-like hand at his throat.  “You were free to go home at all times.”

Still, he goes back to his desk and wraps up for the night.  He types instructions:  to his PA to print a high confidential dossier for M in the morning with his most interesting preliminary findings, to his team on where to pick up with the analysis alongside a note that he will be in late.  He cleans up the frighteningly large number of dirty mugs that accumulated on his desk alongside Bond’s empty whiskey glass, packs up his messenger bag, calls them a car each.

When he’s done, he finds Bond exactly as he’s left him—still sleeping like a baby.

Theoretically, he has always known that Bond too sleeps at night, just like the rest of them, but to see it himself, in flesh and blood like this…

There is a little cut just above his cheek bone, a souvenir of the same mission, that is all but a scar now.  His lips are parted, brow still pinched in a slight frown.  His eyelashes are, well, adorable, strange as it feels to use that word in the same sentence as Bond.  He still looks dreadfully handsome.  He looks dreadfully human.

“Bond,” Q says, to put a stop to this voyeurism.  But Bond only gives him a disgruntled hum in return and hugs Q’s coat tighter to himself.

Q raises his voice just a little, resisting the urge to touch Bond’s cheek.

“James.”

Now Bond, finally, opens his eyes with a sharp inhale.  He looks up at Q, groggy, his face like an open book.  “What time is it?” he asks, and Q, himself overworked, has to remember for a moment how to breathe.

“Two- two AM.”

Bond sits up in a single agile motion; it pushes the coat off onto the floor.  Q is expecting a scowl or a snide remark, which he is ready to fight, seeing as once again no one has forced Bond to stay this late.  

But he only gets a chuckle instead.

“Promising hard drive?”

“Yes, very,” Q manages.  Bond’s eyes, remarkably blue even under the harsh fluorescent lights, his smile, are fond.  He is looking at Q like he knows him.  

And Q can’t shake the feeling that he does, just like he knows Bond.  His penchant for destroying equipment, his wry sense of humour and irresistible charm; his sharp intellect Q has once disregarded wholesale.  His parted lips as he sleeps.

It’s all a bit much really, for 2am.

It’s nowhere near enough.

“Shall we?” Q gestures towards the door with his head, picking up his coat from the floor.  

It will smell faintly of Bond’s cologne for days to come.

#james bond #00q #my fic #may i offer you some pining in these trying times #also this is my first published and complete 00q piece! 🎉

[astralwaifu]

If you're up for it , what about a songfic for deku x reader or if you're not comfortable with that maybe some angst <3

so i had a little trouble finding the perfect song, but i think I ultimately found the perfect angst one that actually sounds happy (weird description ik) soo i hope you’ll love it <3

You're so golden

pairing: Midoriya Izuku x Reader (gn-pro hero)

genre: fluff (with a little angst)

warnings: none

wc: 1k

a/n: h/n - hero name // also i have a thing with writing character development, that i forget about the actual plot 💀 // this song just proves how much i love Harry Styles, anyway, here is Midoriya being an absolute simp - Requests are still open!

——————————————————————————

Deku watched h/n as they stepped on the stage, confident and smiling, making everyone in the crowd cheer and shout frenetically. Everyone loved them - such an intelligent, beautiful and courageous pro-hero, always looking out for others and trying to encourage them through something as simple as a smile or a kind word….

No, Deku wasn’t watching them, Izuku was.

And as he stepped himself on the stage, on the little platform put especially for him, he didn’t hear the people applaud or their standing ovations at the No. 1 Pro-Hero… All he could see, feel and hear was the figure next to him, y/n, whom he’d known his entire life, clapping their hands enthusiastically and smiling widely at him. The No. 2 had his whole heart in their hand and his stomach in a knot every time he saw them. But tonight, during the most special day of his life, a day for which he waited and fighted for his entire life, all he could be happy about was the sight of you supporting him, with the scene lights falling slowly on your skin, making you golden in his eyes.

Everything around you feels like a fever dream.

Izuku was drunk in your presence, everytime plastering a lovesick glow in his green eyes. Maybe he was a little infatuated with with you, who knows? Scratch that, he definitely was. But who wouldn’t be when they passed through so many things in life by your side?

He was alone.

He was alone.

He was dreadfully alone.

No one had looked at him twice and found him remarkable, interesting, worthy of love or affection. Always bullied for something he couldn’t control about himself, for not being able to do more, to reach that perfection he strived for…

However, from the first day at UA until now, Midoriya had you. He wasn’t alone anymore. Whether you stood up for him in class or saved him from dangerous missions, he knew you always have been there and had his back. And Heaven knows, he did the same, if not a hundred times more. You were his light that took him out of the darkness countless times, that brought him back home. Always golden and bright.

He was just slow in realising that what started as friendship might have evolved into something more.Something that was unsurprisingly mutual.

As the two of you squatted on the edge of the building, eyeing the trace of the villain you were supposed to catch, Izuku couldn’t help but sigh as he watched you.

“What is it?” you asked, attention not adverting from the target.

“Do you… ever feel alone?” he shyly asked. All those years as a pro-hero, training and fighting endlessly flew out the window the moment he opened his mouth. It was like he became his old highschool self, mumbling under his breath and blushing an unnatural shade of red. How embarrassing, he thought …the effect you had on the man….

“Sometimes. Why do you ask?”

How can he tell you? He doesn’t want to let you know how vulnerable he is to you. How you are both his biggest asset and weakness. His hands are now sweaty.

“Deku?” you tried to catch his attention back.

‘Focus -he thought- back to the light. To them’

“I don’t want to be alone -he sputtered out fast. And I don’t you to be either” Midoriya tried to look away from you, but you pulled him back in by holding his hand.

“I’m not when we’re together” Damn, that took all the courage you had to say. Your voice was shaking slightly. Was this the right time to confess? You were in the middle of a job, for god’s sake, you had to be present in the moment and on your toes! But when he looked so gently at you, a golden light reflected in his big, soft eyes, you couldn’t help your poor heart that was melting. “I must be out of my head to say this, we both know that in our lives, our jobs… we don’t have the time for this… the privilege of this kind of … love”

Izuku got a shiver down his spine at that word. Of course, it perfectly described what he felt, but hearing it roll out of your mouth so easily, just like a song…

“I know that you are scared. I would lie if I said I wasn’t… But if it means that we get to be together even for a moment, it’s worth any risk” he softly smiled, looking at you with such brightness in his eyes.

In that moment, you lounged towards him and pressed a small, yet deep and passionate kiss on his lips.

The whole world stopped.

The he kissed you back, just as intensely as you did, if not even more.

When you pulled away to take a breath of air, you pressed your forehead against his and whispered:

“Hearts get broken, Midoriya…”

“Izuku”

“Hearts get broken, ‘zuku” you said with an enamoured little smile.

“Of who I am and all I've ever known, all the pain, all the sorrow …Loving you's the antidote” he gently said.

“What if something happens? you questioned. If this ends, I couldn’t…I…”

“It won’t” he whispered. His breath was warm and familiar against your skin.

“It won’t…”

You slid your hand into his and looked him in the eyes, such a loving expression on your face. That golden radiance surrounded you again and Izuku was simply enchanted by it. How could you be so beautiful? How could you be his?

“We still have to catch a villain” you noted, eyeing the target down the street.

“Right. Let’s go then”

A new confidence surrounded him and you could feel it as you held eachother and jumped into action. For a few moments, you were two kids again, paired together in training, simply enjoying and entrusting everything to the other.

#bnha #mha #bnha imagines #midorya izuku #my hero academia x reader #deku midoriya #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku mydoria #pro hero deku #bnha deku #deku x y/n #midoriya x y/n #midoriya x you #deku x reader #mha deku #deku imagine #harry styles #golden harry styles #songfic

[meidozangetsuha]

“She was always causing a ruckus, just like you...”

While I’m glad that people have talked about Towa’s compassion, I don’t think enough discussion goes into one of the most major components of Towa’s character: the guilt that she feels like she is carrying.

When Towa was four, during a forest fire, she accidentally let go of her sister’s hand while running for her life when she was four years old. And because of that she was separated from her beloved sister, the only family she knew, for 10 years. When she came to the modern era she saved another child from some bullies- she did the right thing. And for that for years Towa was harassed. It caused problems for the Higurashi family despite the fact she did not start the fights but only finished them in self defense- her family was kidnapped and held hostage because of it.

And two episodes later Towa lets how she really feels out when talking with Souta- that she’s a burden. The moment Souta endearingly talks about how like Kagome she was always causing a reckless, but in different ways, Towa is overcome by guilt. It’s easy to say “just change/just stop doing it,” but Towa never did anything with malicious intentions. She existed, and problems followed even when acting in good intentions. And she wants to fix them and becomes actively distressed when she cannot.

She needs to save Setsuna and won’t accept any other idea. It’s all her fault. The problem exists in her mind because she let go of Setsuna all those years ago and she must fix this problem.

She is not a Higurashi and struggles with accepting the fact that despite having no blood relation to them they are her family. She brings them misfortune. Her presence alone will bring them more trouble no matter how much she genuinely tries to not fight and clean up her act. She saved someone from bullies now and now those problems have escalated to hurt her family. She should remove herself from this family.

The death of her sister is her fault. To her it is more her fault than the dreadfully powerful Kirinmaru they were fighting against. Because of her own inadequacies Setsuna died. Because she was weak, the one most precious to her died. Another guilty burden to bare- the ultimate guilt.

Logically these are not things she should feel guilty about. She literally did the right thing saving one of her peers, what happened to Setsuna is not her fault, and she blames herself for her sister’s death than her murderer. Towa is a 14 year old girl who feels like she has to carry these burdens herself. A 14 year old who almost assuredly is suffering from PTSD and depression. On multiple occasions Towa mentions that she feels like she does not belong in this world. And when heading back to the Feudal Era, nothing changed. She still lives in a world she does not feel like she belongs, and in a world where kindness can be seen as a weakness.

Of the twins, when compared to Setsuna, Towa takes more after her mother than her father. An extraordinarily kind and gentle soul who wants to do the right thing but is burdened by these feelings of inadequacy, that she is a weakling who can only ever create problems.  And yet she must persist and persevere in a terribly cruel and frightening world as her self-doubt and self esteem continues to plummet. And she will continue to persist, and she will thrive. She now wields the broken Tenseiga and must repair it to bring back her sister while holding onto a gentle heart, and the burdens that comes when you care so much about those around you.

This is why I cannot stand the arguments about how “Mary Sue” Towa is. It’s such a way to overtly gloss over her problems as a person and as a hero who feels like she must save those around her. She may not be as vibrant and energetic as Moroha or as cool as Setsuna, but she is the one that would be the most commited to the hero’s journey. The one who would gladly give up her own life for the sake of her traveling companions, and actively resents that it was someone else who died instead of her.

This is why she is entirely deserving of being the hero of a new story.

#yashahime #yashahime: princess half-demon #hanyo no yashahime #hanyou no yashahime #towa higurashi #higurashi towa #character analysis #anyways trying out this sideblog for a bit

[yandere-ac]

Maybe some yandere redd but for tom?

Ohohohoho!!! I’ve been waiting for this one!

Heads up! This one is a bit darker than my usual content (or well. The fix is normal but there’s one part that’s pretty dark) so if you’re faint of heart this probably isn’t the fic for you. I’m gonna post a different one in a few days, hopefully it’s not as dark. But with that aside, I hope you enjoy!

Yandere Crazy Redd X Tom Nook

Business partners

Oh Tom, his sweet Tom. Redd observed his past parter as he peacefully slept. His stomach was slowly rising and falling, rising and falling. Standing besides his bed, Redd watched him in amazement. He considered stroking his soft fur but that would undoubtedly wake him up. But god would he do anything just to touch his fur again. It wouldn’t have been the first time. After all, when he said that they were past partners, he didn’t just mean that in the business sense. Oh how he yearned to those days when he and Tom would work together, running that shop, then after the shift was over they’d go down to his place to watch a movie while snuggling. Tom would make dinner that he and Redd would eat while watching said movie. After that they would go up to Redds room and cuddle under the covers. Only to fall asleep in each other’s arms. Back then Tom didn’t have his own house so he usually stayed with Redd. Not that he ever complained.

The day that Tom first walked into Redds store and Redd first laid his eyes on him, he thought he would just be another fool that he could scam. He started to sweet talk Tom into trusting him, like he did with everyone. But then something peculiar happened. Tom had asked for a job. This baffled Redd beyond belief, no one had ever been interested in working in Redds shop considering how sketchy it looked. Then on top of that there was the fact that most people had grudges against foxes and usually would want to get out as soon as they bought their item. To see someone so eager to work with someone like Redd...it felt nice, almost reassuring in a way. And so, Redd accepted Toms offer and he became the second employee at Redds little shop. Needless to say, things got a lot nicer once someone else began working with Redd. The atmosphere was a lot less heavy and scary whenever someone came in to buy something. Tom would always walk up to them, telling them about their sales and deals and prices. That was something that Redd adored about his friend. He had such a calming and comforting aura surrounding him that no one ever felt uncomfortable walking in the store. Redd had never gotten any of his “customers” to feel safe around him. He just had that kind of menacing and untrustworthy look to him huh? But that was another thing about Tom. Back in the day when he was much younger he was still very uncorrupted. He hadn’t been exposed to just how cruel and unjust the business world truly was. Redd made sure to keep it that way. Tom wasn’t naive, not in any way shape or form. Redd knew that, but he still felt like he had to protect his parter from any scum around them. The world was imperfect, it was dirty and foul and didn’t deserve someone like Tom. That was the beginning of Redds downfall.

When Tom asked him out he was shocked. Shocked that someone like Tom would want to be with someone like him. He accepted of course and after a few dates they became an official couple. They displayed full affection when at Redds house but Redd made a rule never to show any sign that they were a thing while in the shop or outside. That wasn’t because he didn’t want to, no, Redd would love to be able to wrap himself around Tom when they were outside. Kissing him and holding him, making sure everyone knew he was his. You see, the part of town we’re Redd and Tom had their shop, let’s just say it wasn’t exactly the most clean place with the most accepting people. Redd was scared that something would happen to Tom if they did show public affection. Of course, Tom wasn’t happy about this. Not happy at all. This is ultimately one of the many things that led to him wanting to break up and move out.

“Redd, listen-“

“Oh c’mon nookie, quit fooling around like that. You scared me” Redd said trying to avoid the subject, desperately wanting to keep Tom from leaving him. He had packed all of his clothing and such and was simply wanting to tell his partner that he was going. “Redd, I’m leaving. You know it’s been a long time coming so please, let’s just not make this more difficult then it needs to be” Tom said sternly. Redd hated when he spoke like that, when he had practically no emotion in his voice because he knew he was just stating the obvious truth. He was trying to pretend that he wasn’t feeling something just so this can be easier. Redd knew he was bluffing, under that poker face was a storm brewing up. He just had to make it break out. “So that’s it huh? After all I’ve done for you? After all the sacrifices I made? After all those nights we spent you’re just giving up? I know you’re not that weak Tom” Redd said, trying to convince his soon to be past lover into staying. “There it is! That’s exactly why I’m doing this! All the time it’s just all about you ain’t it Redd! About how you feel. How you think. How you want it. It’s NEVER about ME is it!? You’re so selfish that you can barely look past your own ego to see that I’m unhappy!” Tom was now yelling. Tears threatening to spill out from his big eyes. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve last written to my friends back home!? No? ME NEITHER! YOU FORBADE ME TO DO SO BECAUSE YOU’RE TOO INSECURE TO TRUST THAT IM NOT CHEATING ON YOU! DO YOU KNOW HOW THAT FEELS REDD?! TO KNOW THAT YOUR BOYFRIEND DOESN’T TRUST YOU!” And there it was, the storm. Hot tears were now rolling down toms cheeks as his ears were down pointed. Now, he just had to...

”Oh...nookie...i...Im so sorry. I didn’t know you felt that” he reached out his arms and walked towards Tom. “Come here and-“

“Get away from me Redd...” Tom backed up and Redd stopped immediately as he heard this. “Get away from me! I know what you’re doing you bastard! You’re not sorry! Don’t EVER try to feed me that horseshit! You know it! I know it! I thought we could talk this out like adults...but I guess not...” the room became dreadfully quiet. The air felt like concrete. “I-“ “save it! I’m leaving. Goodbye...” and so the tanooki walked away, pushing into Redds shoulder as he stomped out of the house.

That was the last time Redd saw Tom for years. He moved back to his old home, completely giving up on his business dream. Redd stayed back in the shop, trying to move on. But everyone could see that something was different. The store became even more unsettling after that. For about two months, any and all hospitality that Redd gave his customers flew right out the window. He was snappy, rude, pushy and all in all just not having it. He couldn’t muster up any reason to even try to scam gullible people, the only thing he could think of was Tom. How did he do it? How did he manage to have such a welcoming exterior? It could have something to do with his comforting voice, the voice that he missed so dearly. Or it could be his big eyes, those big blue orbs that Redd would get lost in. Or maybe it was just that he basically looked like a giant teddy bear. Either way, Redd has none of those qualities and he wouldn’t even TRY to replicate them. He was to angry, but none of that anger was directed at Tom. Redd loves Tom more than anything and if anything was just mad at himself for letting Tom get away. He should’ve just taken him, locked him up in a cage where only he could see him. Yeah, just Redd and him. Alone together with nothing to disturb them.

And it was like that for maybe a year or two. That was until Redd found out were Tom was. And when he found out, he wasted no time taking a train to the town in which his ex now lived. He didn’t know why but he just had to see him again. He knew Tom wasn’t gonna be happy to see him but he didn’t care. The ride was long and unbearable, he couldn’t wait to see Tom again. He could barely hold in his excitement. Finally after driving for about 7 hours straight he arrived at his stop. Stepping out of the train he could see a big sign welcoming him to the small town. A small town with a peculiar name. “Mudmore? That’s an...interesting name...” As redd walked closer he swore he could hear distant music however he payed no mind to it at first, all he cared about was finding Tom. As he entered the town premises it was loud and clear what was going on. There was some sort of festival accruing. Although, it didn’t exactly change anything. He just had to find-

“Ough!!!”

“Ouch!!!”

Right before Redd could even manage to think of what to do next he had felt a strong impact on his left side. Someone had bumped into him. And in the process fallen down to the ground with him as well. They sat there for a few moments, rubbing their head before turning to look at him. Now he could see them more clearly. It was a girl, a girl with long black hair and brown eyes. She looked at him with worry. “Oh no! Are you alright? I’m sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going” she said as she rose up and reached her hand out for him. At first Redd was hesitant but after a few seconds he grabbed her hand. She pulled him up to his get and he brushed off some dust from his clothing. “Hey don’t worry about it kid...by any chance do you know if a tanooki called Tom nook lives here?” She looked at him and her eyes instantly lit up. “Oh yes! Oh yes I do! He’s my contractor and I work for him! I can bring you to him if you’d like!” This made the fox smirk. “Yes, I would like that very much”

The two of them walked through the town. A bunch of colourful characters running pat them as they were walking. Some stopped to say hi to the girl and some ran right past the two. “So, what’s your name?” A soft voice broke him out of his thoughts. He looked over to the girl. “Redd...it’s Redd...and you?” He said bluntly, he didn’t like to make small talk but it seems like he had no choice. “My name is Mariam! It’s nice to meet you Redd! So, why do you want to find Tom? Are you guys friends?” At this statement, Redd and to physically stop himself from laughing. “Umm...yeah I guess you could say that... we’re uh really close. But I haven’t seen him in a while and I wanted to visit” the human looked at him and smiled as he said this. “Aww, that’s so sweet! Well his store should be just around the corner now!” Store? Oh come on! Really? Tom would rather have some small store in this town than with him? That’s just insulting.

After a while Mariam stopped following him. Giving him directions as to where to go before running off to hang out with other villagers. No matter. It’s not like it would be hard to find the only store in town. Eventually he arrived at the so called store. Hmm. “Nooks cranny...not a bad name nookie...okay Redd...you can do this...” he took a deep breath before walking into the store. “Hello hello! Welcome to nooks cranny!” He heard a familiar voice call out to him. He was nowhere to be seen but he could hear the voice coming from the back room in the shop. “Just a second, I’ll be with you in a minute!” The door stood ajar as it filtered his voice slightly, not enough to block out his voice completely but just enough to silence it. And it was just open enough so that you can hear his voice. Looking around the shop while waiting in anticipation he could CLEARLY see that some inspiration was taken while making it. Shelves upon shelves stacked with items and furniture of all sorts. Soft footsteps could be heard coming towards him. The door opened to reveal a tanooki, walking at a brisk pace as he neared Redd. “Now what did you wa-“ the man in front of him halted as his eyes widened. Looking the fox up and down to make sure that his eyes weren’t deceiving him. “It...it cant be...” his voice was low and breathy, almost like he couldn’t, like he refused to believe what he saw before him. “Redd?” At that Redds lips turned into a small smirk, eyes still remaining gentle. He didn’t want to break the poor man so he had to be careful with his demeanour. “The one and only” he tried to ease the tension which lingered all too long, that of course didn’t work as most his attempts at bringing up someone’s mood. “What are you doing here Redd” he said. A now harsher tone underlining his voice. “Hey can’t a guy want to visit the oh so famous Mudville as it’s undergoing a festival? God Tom, my world doesn’t revolve around you, the small fact that you’re here as well is simply a coincidence” He said nonchalantly as he walked closer to his former boyfriend. He looked at one of the items on display. A glass chimpanzee statue. “How much for the monkey?” Before Tom could get the chance to say anything the sound of a chiming bell broke the tension. The girl from before ran in with a purple cat with a red shirt following behind her. “Hi Tom! Do you know where the fireworks are?” She asked him. Without taking off his gaze from the fox Tom quickly replies. “In the back room” the girl gave him a smile as she rushed past Redd, but as she past him she stopped. “Oh Redd! So you found Tom after all! That’s good. I felt a little guilty about letting you find him on your own but I see now that you’re more than capable!” After that she ran to get the fire works...

Well shit.

All the while the human and cat was in the store, Tom was glaring at Redd. He could almost feel his gaze burning into him as the two waited in uncomfortable silence for the shoppers to leave. Redd was trying to not look at Tom, fumbling with the monkey instead of facing his ex. Once they were gone Toms eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms, all the while Redd put down the statue and giving him a sheepish smile. “Coincidence huh? And for your information, it’s Mudmore. Not Mudville” ”same difference!” Tom could feel his temper get shorter and shorter as the fox started getting on his nerves. “I thought I made it clear that I didn’t want to see you ever again Redd. The only reason I’m not kicking you out right now is because there’s a festival going on, and i dont wanna spoil my good mood any more than you’ve already done!” Tom said as he shot the fox a glare. “Now, get out of my store! I need to close it up so I can spend the day with my children” Tom ordered as he went out of the store. “Pff! Fine! Like i- CHILDREN?! YOU HAD KIDS!?” Redd was completely stumped. How did Tom manage to move on with his life so quickly in the span of a couple of years! What was he married as well?! “Yes, I did. Or well, I adopted them” He said as he reached for his keys in the pocket of his apron. “Oh...why though? Kids are such a hindrance of your freedom. I thought you were all about that nooki-“ “don’t!....call me that...and for your information. I found them in a box underneath a park bench. It wasn’t exactly a decision that I could think about long and hard. But they’re the best thing that ever happened to me” Tom said, his voice becoming almost tender as he mentioned the small boys. “Hmm...well I never figured you as the dad type but sure. Whatever makes you move on from me!” Redd figured that he wasn’t gonna be able to get back with Tom so he thought, why not be a little petty while he’s still there. It’s what he does the best. When Redd said this Toms face went into a grimace that was a mixture of disgust and a mocking grin. “Oh that’s rich coming from you. I’m not the one who’s seemingly looking up where my ex is so I can stalk him when he was clear he didn’t want to see me!” Tom was now dragging Redd out of the store so he could get out of this predicament. “Yeah? That’s because you’re boring! You never wanna take risks! You never wanna do anything exciting! You never wanna-“ “scam innocent people?” “And you always do that! You make everything sound so horrible!” Redd rolled his eyes as he heard Toms statement. Anyone who’s gullible enough to be scammed shouldn’t be trusted with money! He’s simply teaching them a lesson. “I don’t make everything sound horrible. I just say things for how they are! And let me tell you how THIS is, I don’t want to see you! I don’t EVER want you to come near me, my sons, or my village ever again!” With that, Tom walked past him. “Goodbye Redd” his voice was cold and unwelcoming. And with that he stormed off. Redd could see two smaller tanookis run up to him and tackle him into a hug. Almost instantly Toms face went from irritation to pure joy. He was laughing. He looked so happy. He missed that. He missed being able to make him laugh. But it’s been about five years and Tom had moved on, gotten his own shop, found a home, gotten new friends, even started his own little family. A family that Redd was never gonna be apart of...

“...fuck, no! Not now!” He felt his eyes sting as they began to well up. “No no no no no!” He quickly rushed to the train station and once he made sure no one was in sight, he let the tears flow down his cheeks. He fucked it up yet again! He fucked it up the first time and now he did it again. Why did he have to be so stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Why did he even show up here?! He thought that seeing Tom again would make him feel better! Just make him feel good for once! But no! Seeing him completely happy and having moved on makes him feel even worse than before. He regretted that night so much! The night that he let Tom walk away! Why did he let him go! He couldn’t stand this exile any longer!

Redd started showing up to the outskirts of the village in a little tent. He called it his black market. It was a cute name he thought. But soon crossed out the “black” part of the sign outside. Even if it was a joke he didn’t want to get in trouble, after all, he didn’t have a licence and was basically doing this illegally. But he didn’t do this for the money. No, he did this so he could still be close to Tom. He will admit, even if seeing him so cold towards Redd made him feel like garbage, seeing him happy awoke something I him. It reminded him of when they were together. It wasn’t ideal but it would do. However he stayed out of his way, not wanting another confrontation with him. The worst thing that could happen to him would be if he actually started crying in front of Tom. He didn’t want to show any weakness, that would show that he cared. And he couldn’t have that. The shop wasn’t exactly popular by any long shot. Only a few people came in once in a while but usually left because of his insane prices. Redd would spend his days in the shop and during nighttime he would spy on Tom. And that was pretty much how life was for a while. That is until Redd got some horrible news.

“MOVED!? WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE MOVED?! WHY?! WHERE?!” He was shaking the person in front of him who had given him the devastating news. “Well I’m not sure why he did it but I have a hunch it could be because a certain someone wasn’t leaving him alone.” As the person said this their voice became more prominent, clearly putting the blame on Redd. “As of where, I can’t tell you. Even if I knew where, I wouldn’t say.” After that, they left. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all! If he wasn’t with Tom, he feared that he might do something crazy! He felt completely and utterly hopeless, he just found Tom again! He couldn’t loose him! After about two weeks of nonstop searching Redd started getting desperate. He wanted, no, he NEEDED to see Tom again! And so, he started to consider doing some...morally questionable things. He may be a scammer but he never wanted to hurt someone...but...if it was for Tom...

“I’m telling you! Please I don’t know where he moved! I promise!” The owl begged shaking in the chair that Redd had tied him down to. He wasn’t gonna lie, he was a little ashamed he let things get this far. But it’s all for Tom. He had pretty much abducted the museum owner, Blathers. And was pressing him for the information of where Tom had moved. Throughout the time he lived in Mudmore one persistent thing was that Tom and this owl seemed to be friends, close friends. If anyone knew where Tom had moved, it was blathers. “Please! I don’t know where he went. You can take everything I have! My wallet, my clock, my bells, everything! Just- please don’t hurt me!” His pleading was wearing short on Redds patience. He narrowed his eyes even more than they already are. Walking closer to the quivering owl. “Tsk tsk tsk. Blathers, blathers, blathers...I didn’t want it to come to this...but I guess you leave me no choice” Blathers eyes went wide as his breathing hitched. “W-what are yo-ou going to do to me?!” Redd let out a heavy laugh as he walked away from the owl and into the darkness.

“No...no...I’m not gonna hurt YOU” blathers could barely see redd anymore, just his figure. “....say blathers...what would you do if your sister...LOST HER HEAD!!!” Suddenly, Redd threw another owl out from the shadows. It was Celeste! She was shaking as she layed before her older brother. Redd came up behind her and used one hand to lift her head up, Revealing her throat. Placing his other hand over it, his claws very prominently pointed to her. “NO!!!! LEAVE HER OUT OF THIS!!! THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH HER!!!” Blathers was now thrashing violently in the chair. Trying all he could to break through. “PLEASE SHES THE ONLY ONE LEFT!!! THE ONLY ONE I HAVE! YOU CANT TAKE HER!!!” Redd wouldn’t lie. Something about this situation, about seeing someone who were taking up Toms attention being in such pain...it felt good. To the point where he let out a deep chuckar at serien the owls futile attempts at escaping. “Now now Blathers. I’m not gonna hurt her...yet! All you need to do is just tell me where Tom moved. And I’ll let her go unharmed” Celeste looked at her brother, tears spilling out of her eyes. “B-blathers?” Her voice was raspy, damaged from crying to much. “I’ll tell you everything! Please just let go of her!” Blathers begged. Redd got what he wanted. He’s not gonna press the poor owl any longer. And so, he let go of the little bird. She quickly scrambled over to her brother. Placing her head in his lap as she cried. “Now talk!” “O-Okay okay! Tom has been working on this project for the past couple of years. H-he called it the- the island getaway package!”

Blathers told Redd pretty much everything he needed to know. About where Tom was going, what he was doing and how long he’d have to wait until Tom came out about it publicly. “Alright....now, where is he?” Redd asked, judging from Blathers eyes becoming slightly wider he guessed that he didn’t know. “I-uhh....he’s- he’s moved to this city called Bumbleville! Up north!” Blather said, Redd tried his hardest not to roll his eyes at this. “You’re not a very good liar blathy boy” “but I-“ “no! Shush!...lucky for you, I’m in a good mood. You’ve given me plenty of information. And off that I thank you” Redd walked up behind blathers, and in a swift movement he cut up the rope that was holding him to the chair. Immediately, Blathers embraced his sibling, trying his best to comfort her. “Get out of my sight Blathers. And don’t make me regret this” without skipping a beat. Blathers ran out with his sister. Redd would be leaving tonight. He’d just have to roughly wait a couple of months before he could see Tom again. He’d waited years already, so a couple of months wouldn’t be too bad.

And that leads us to where he is now. Watching Tom sleep. It had taken about five months until Nook inc came out with the news of island living. And as soon as Redd found out the general area of the islands that was gonna be used, he went to his boat that he’d saved up for during the five months and went out to sea. After that it only took a lot of trial and error to finally find the island that Tom lived on. He wouldn’t lie and say it was easy, because truth be told. It really wasn’t. He started looking way back in March and the day he finally found him was in the beginning of May. It had been long and tedious, but it was so worth it. He had finally found him again, just being in his presence made his stomach fill up with butterflies. This time he wasn’t gonna let him leave. Not EVER again. Taking out a white cloth and a bottle out of his apron he soaked it with the liquid inside. That liquid being chloroform. Getting ready to put his lover into a deep sleep he hesitated for a moment. What if...what if he just woke him up before? He wanted to see the fear in his eyes as he fell asleep once more. Looking at his soft fur, he decided. Taking out his paw, he carefully started stroking Toms head. He could hear him letting out a soft mumble, it was adorable. Toms eyes opened slightly, but once he saw Redd, they went wide open. “REDD- MMMPHH!!!” Redd pressed the cloth against his nose and mouth. Tom was flailing around like crazy, trying to get Redd off of him. But nothing worked as he felt himself drift off. Tom tried to hold on but he just couldn’t. The last thing he saw before he lost his Conscience was Redd smiling down at him. And just like that. He slipped into unconsciousness.

Part 2

#acnh #yandere #yandere acnh #yandere animal crossing #animal crossing #animal crossing new horizons #tom nook #crazy redd #yandere crazy redd #reddnook #tom nook x crazy redd #tw yandere #tw swearing #tw self worth issues #tw self loathing #tw obsessive behaviour #tw kidnapping #tw abduction #tw stalking #one sided #ac #x

[onthevirgeofdestruction]

Tied in Green

Words: 5,858 Content Warnings: Food, Lonliness, Magical S//H in a weird way?  Characters: Remus (POV), Roman, Virgil Ships: Dukexiety Rating: T Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort

FFN Mirror - Playlist 

   Remus isn’t ashamed of himself. He agrees that sometimes he doesn’t like the things that suck him in. The things that he can’t get out of his head and make him feel horrible for even thinking. Those things upset him, too. But ultimately, he’s not ashamed of who he is or what he likes. But he’s pretty certain everyone else is. 

   He doesn’t keep friends for very long. His mom pushes him aside more often than not. Remus can be himself in private, but not here, she says. It’s what she always says. People will laugh at his jokes in school, but they never actually want to hang out. Remus is alone again, listening to his brother and friends laugh in the other room. They sound like they’re having fun and he’s jealous. But he knows better than to ask to join. He would do something to ruin it for Roman, anyway. Remus knocked twice at his desk.

   Roman gets all awkward and weird and it’s clearly just a pity invite even if Remus did ask to join. They don’t make fun of him, but there’s not much of an effort to include him either. Roman and his friends don’t let him in on inside jokes, don’t ask his opinions, and sometimes talked like he’s not there. They acknowledge him if he talks, but that’s it. Remus doesn’t get included, which hurts more than sitting alone, sometimes.

   Remus only wanted to spend time with his brother. His friends are always over and Remus never has the chance anymore. He’s too busy with his homework when they’re not over. He missed Roman. And Remus couldn’t deny that it hurt that Roman always seemed to make time for his friends, but never for Remus.

   They used to be inseparable. His mom used to joke that they were twins because Remus never acted his age and they looked so alike. They weren’t supposed to grow apart. When they were kids, they planned on having adventures together. But this was the third time this week alone that Remus is stuck listening to Roman playfully bicker with his friends the next room over.

   The headphones weren’t enough sometimes, and tonight was one of those times. Remus sighed and dropped his computer headphones on his desk. He wasn’t paying any attention to this book, anyway. They were playing a four-player game with three players and kept lamenting that the game was too hard. But they never asked him to join. He kept hoping they would. He considered just going over and inviting himself, but he didn’t feel like being pitied today. And what if he said something? What if he did something? Remus rapped his knuckle on the desk again.

   Remus slipped on his boots and a windbreaker and headed out of his room, glancing into Roman’s open door as he passed. They were laughing at a TV show together. He headed down the stairs with a sigh. “I’m going for a walk, ma,” Remus called into his mother’s office as he passed and she held her finger over her lips while she was on the phone. Right. Remus headed out the front door and locked up behind himself.

   The fall night was enchanting. It was somewhat chilly for a windbreaker, but Remus welcomed it. Remus enjoyed having sleeves to play with, so he liked fall and winter. This windbreaker has a zipper on the cuff that Remus fiddled with while he walked down the street. He didn’t have anywhere in mind to go, honestly. He just wanted to get out of there. It didn’t feel right. 

   He could go to the corner store that was near his house that had a great selection of weird gummy candies. He could also go for some pizza-flavoured chips. This was a stomach ache waiting to happen, but Remus wasn’t exactly known for self-control. He was known for taking dares from strangers and getting suspended for scaling the wall of the school just to see if he could.

   He kicked at an acorn as he walked down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets. He was going to eat an entire package of pizza chips and he knew it. And they always made his breath smell like throw up, which Remus thought was incredibly cool that the flavourings could taste so good and smell so bad as soon as they got wet. 

   No one else liked his pizza-chip breath, though. Actually, he was the only one he knew who liked those pizza chips. Sour cream and onion sounded good, too. He liked to eat them with the pizza chips. If you got the right brands of chips, it was like eating pizza and ranch. His mom might get mad at him for just leaving to buy snacks at the corner store, so he’d need a way to hide the bag from her.

   Remus wished he knew how to reign himself in, he honestly did. He was always running his mouth and getting himself in trouble before he even knew what was happening. He knew he could be unpleasant, too. And he was worried about what he was capable of. Remus had some bad thoughts and dark knowledge and he didn’t want to act on them, but they were there. He knew how to do lots of bad things. In a weak moment he could, right? He didn’t want to… but…

   He tried his hardest, but he wasn’t soft and cuddly. Roman’s friend Patton was sweet and nice and Remus would give anything just to sit with him and watch a movie sometime. Patton talked through movies, too. They could whisper to each other and split a bowl of popcorn. It would be amazing. Patton smelled like fabric softener and made Remus feel bubbly with delight.

   But Remus unsettled Patton. He was too nice to say it, but Roman asked him to dial it back for Patton’s sake more than once. Logan at least was interested when Remus brought up interesting things that popped into his head. But Remus had seen Patton recoil before. And Roman would sigh and roll his eyes and tell Remus that they shouldn’t talk about that. Patton would apologize sometimes. 

   That generally made Remus feel worse because it’s not like he intended to freak out Patton, but it wasn’t Patton’s fault for not liking the subject matter, either. They just came out of Remus’s mouth and it was his inability to not run his mouth that was the cause. Remus pulled at the zipper a few times, feeling bad all over again for it. It had been a while since Remus’s last fuck up with Patton, but Remus never forgot. He knew he should stop pining pointlessly.

   Someone was coming up on the sidewalk drew Remus’s eye and out of his self-pity pit. It looked like there was a fellow weirdo out tonight. Someone in a stylistic fox mask and a trench coat was coming down towards Remus on the sidewalk from over the small hill Remus had to walk up to get to the corner store. The outfit reminded Remus of a comic book villain. Actually, if they flipped the fox mask for a kabuki one, they’d basically be Yokai from Big Hero Six. Remus wondered what a cosplayer or whatever was doing on a nighttime walk, and also if Remus could join them. Remus had a mostly put-together Deathstroke cosplay in his closet he could go put on.

   “Hey, can I ask what the costume is? It looks great,” Remus waved when he got close enough for the stranger to hear.

   “Thanks, but this is just me,” The stranger shrugged, walking up to Remus. “How would you like to be someone else, though?” The stranger asked out of absolutely nowhere.

   “I’d give anything,” Remus replied before he even considered it.

   “Even your soul?” The stranger asked, and Remus stopped to weigh his options. What was Remus doing with his soul, anyway? “I kid, you don’t actually have to think about that,” The stranger chuckled out a deep rattling noise that shook their whole torso while they shook their head. “Nothing so permanent. How about some time?” They offered again, an amused smile barely peeking out from under the mask.

   “Like sitting through a seminar or something?” Remus asked, shifting his weight on his feet and furrowing his eyebrows.

   “No, that’s so dreadfully boring. Just a bit off the end for as long as you use what I’m offering. It’s a very fair trade,” They reassured him dismissively. This was red flag central for some grade-A weird, dangerous shit. Awesome. Not awesome? Remus wasn’t sure. He still wanted to be someone else.

   “Oh, is this some deal with the devil shit?” Remus hummed curiously, still not sure how to parse this situation.

   “No, no. Not affiliated. Just someone that gets called the devil often. I’m sure you can relate,” The masked stranger waved their hands.

   “Boy, do I ever,” Remus agreed and crossed his arms. Remus’s stupid suggestions often got him in the hot seat. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but… “The exact amount of time? Not some stupid equation where I’m getting screwed like a prom date?” Remus did the smart thing and double-check for once instead of his impulsiveness taking the wheel.

   “Damn, who are you dealing with usually? No, the exact amount of time. Second per second off the natural lifespan. If you started taking better care of yourself, you’d barely lose a thing,” They shrugged, speaking as if they didn’t understand the distrust.

   “What’s in it for you?” Remus furrowed his eyebrows at the masked stranger, tapping his finger on his crossed arms.

   “I get the time and the entertainment value of it all. The paranormal gets boring without doing this kind of thing every once in a while,” The stranger twisted their hand in the air and leaned on one leg. They put their hand on their hip and looked Remus up and down. 

   Remus was still suspicious about the whole thing. Something-something and deals with the fae? Not that this looked like a fairy or anything. Actually, how would Remus know how to identify the fae? The fae could look like anything, and Remus doesn’t have any iron on him. 

   “Iron does nothing to me, anyway. Soft and cuddly, right? Something Patton would like? I’ve got just the thing,” They held up a finger and a bright green ribbon materialized around it.

   “Ah, didn’t realize you were listening,” Remus chuckled to himself. The stranger clearly knew what Remus wanted. He hoped that was the only thing they heard, though. “You know what, fuck me up, fam,” Remus declared, holding up his hand in the air triumphantly. The ribbon appeared in Remus’s hand and he gripped it enthusiastically.

   “Just tie it onto yourself. Take it off to be human again, so put it somewhere easy to reach. And if it goes more than a small distance from you, it’ll show up in your hand again. This is only yours, so don’t bother trying to use it on someone else or giving it away. It’ll never work. If you try to show it off, it also won’t work, because that’s a fucking headache. You’ll have to change somewhere private. Have fun and try not to get yourself killed, please. That sucks for the both of us,” They sounded delighted while Remus looked at the silky ribbon. It was a bright green, like fresh leaves in spring and not subtle at all. Exactly his style. Remus shoved the ribbon in his pocket and bowed deeply, twisting his hand in front of him and stepping one leg to the side.

   “So what does it do?” Remus asked, looking up to the masked stranger from his bow. They had lifted their mask just enough for Remus to make out a sharp-toothed grin as they faded from existence. Well, that was delightfully creepy. “Oh, points for style,” Remus hummed, and he made out the faintest deep cackle that also faded away. 

   What a nice… whatever that was. Mysterious entities that could read thoughts and create things from nothing were good in Remus’s book. He felt the ribbon between his fingers in his pocket. It felt pleasantly warm. He could find out what it did by putting it on. But this probably wasn’t private enough to use it. He was out in the open. Maybe it only mattered if people were looking at him? Well, he still had his chip-acquisition duty to get to.

   Remus resumed his walk down the street. He couldn’t have anticipated a depression walk resulting in a deal with a demon or whatever, but it certainly was a better outcome than usual. He continued to feel the toasty ribbon in his pocket as he walked down the road. The possibilities filled his mind as he trekked on. Soft and cuddly, huh? Another Patton? That would be weird. A bear? Bears probably aren’t cuddly for very long. Remus would love to be a bear, though. Remus, but capable of fighting his impulsiveness? Unrealistic, even for magic.

   Were there… weird magic people always listening to his thoughts? He really hoped not. Remus had some awful thoughts. Terrible, horrible, sickening thoughts. Thoughts he was always thankful that at least no one could hear. And someone heard. Magical beings probably wouldn’t listen all the time, right? If they were listening to all of his thoughts, they never would have talked with Remus. Or they would have treated Remus way worse. He also couldn’t imagine some weird magical entity wanting to listen to Remus thinking about what cooked stink bugs might smell like and what he would look like with a giraffe neck even when he wasn’t having shitty thoughts. Maybe they only listened out for random wishes. Was that a genie? No, there weren’t three wishes and the fox mask demon got something in return.

   He should be more concerned about literally cutting his life short with a magic ribbon, but he wasn’t. Remus couldn’t think out that far. Every time he questioned if it was the right idea, he wondered what he got to turn into. It was something non-human, and it seemed like the random magic stranger didn’t like things that would make a big kerfuffle, so it was probably something that would blend in. It made the most sense with what they said. Unless it was all a trick, anyway.

   Remus opened the convenience store door and made a bee-line to the snacks aisle. He grabbed some gummy brains and rats and examined the shelf for anything else. Candy moustaches? Sure, why not? Remus turned aisles to grab chips and headed up to the register, also tossing up a bottle of soda from a cooler near the register. 

   The cashier kept one eye on the TV while checking Remus out, not even acknowledging him. That was normal, at least. Remus waved after he picked up his bag of snacks, but the cashier was staunchly watching the TV again. He cracked open the bags of chips to snack on as he walked down the sidewalk, taking a handful of each flavour and shoving them all into his mouth at once.

   It was a tasty combo. If Remus ate them down enough, he could roll the bags and make them easier to sneak past everyone, and since they were open, he’d have to eat them evenly, anyway. It was a win-win. Maybe not for Remus’s life span, but that was years out and Remus didn’t know how to even conceptualize that. He could start jogging or something. That’s healthy, right? Probably not enough to cancel out eating an entire bag’s worth of potato chips on the way home. But he already planned on doing that and just because he got a magic ribbon didn’t mean he needed to go changing his very important impulsive plans.

   How did his lifespan work, anyway? Mm, chips. Remus decided he didn’t care. Was that an awful thought? Well, maybe as long as it was only Remus’s life span. It’s kind of like deciding to only eat fast food or something. He could ask the mysterious fox mask person if he ever saw them again, but otherwise, there wasn’t much else to do about it. He had more important things to do, like make sure he ate the same amount of chips from each bag.

   The walk back to his house went much faster as Remus gorged himself on chips. He rolled up the remaining chips bags so they wouldn’t stick out of the shopping bag. Perfect, now he shouldn’t have to share if Roman saw and his mom won’t see and he won’t get in trouble. He still had a random grocery bag, but maybe luck would be on his side. He didn’t want to share any of this. It would throw off the balance of the bags.

   The front door unlocked with a click and Remus stepped in, locking up behind himself. He glanced at the wall clock and realized the trip took a solid forty-five minutes longer than it should have. Does talking with weird demons warp time? He hoped he wasn’t in trouble. He could legally be out, but his mother didn’t like him wandering around at night getting in trouble. Remus walked down the hall, waving to his mom in the office. She didn’t even look up from her computer. What was she doing working that late, anyway? 

   Roman’s bedroom door was closed as he passed it. Remus sighed as he stepped into his bedroom and closed the door behind him. He had no reason to worry; it seemed. Nobody cared that he came home safe. Remus kicked off his shoes, which thudded on the floor, and dropped off the snacks bag on his desk.

   Remus looked around the room and reached into his pocket. Well, it was the moment of truth. Did Remus hate being perceived in the manner he was so much he was willing to literally shorten his lifespan to be something else? He stared at the ribbon. Finding out what it was he could turn into would help him decide, right? This should be an important decision. Or something. He didn’t care anymore. Remus put his foot upon his desk chair and tied the ribbon into a bow on his ankle. As soon as the ribbons pulled into place, Remus felt overwhelmingly dizzy. Like he did a backflip into another dimension and out again.

   His brain wasn’t working at first. There was so much new input he didn’t expect that it took him a moment to settle into even comprehending. Things were brighter and louder and stronger smelling. And… taller. Or he was significantly smaller. He did not know yet. Remus stumbled and fell over, reaching up for his head. There were no fingers, though, only a paw pad pressing into a damp nose. Huh. Remus closed his eyes and tried to get his bearings. He swore he had better senses and spatial awareness. Remus wobbled over to the floor-length mirror after he pulled himself up.

   That was the largest cat he’d ever seen, staring back at him with bright spring-green eyes in the mirror. It was not a cat breed he’d recognized. He was thick with fluff and had tawny grey fur spotted with black tabby markings. Remus swished his tail and spun around, looking at himself before turning back to the mirror. A big fluffy cat certainly fit the bill. Remus wanted to pet himself, even. 

   Walking on all fours didn’t take any adjusting to after he gained his bearings, and there was no pile of clothes where he was, so magic must have been helping Remus to adjust. His tail was weirding him out, though. He could only control it if it consciously focused on it, but otherwise, it swished about without his input.

   He licked his paw and ran it across the top of his head to make the big gray tuft there stick straight up. Other than being probably three times the size of his nana’s house cat, Remus was pretty cute. He sat on the floor and examined himself. He should turn back, right? No, he should check stuff out to help him decide. Remus headed around his room.

   Things were bizarre at this height, but it was an interesting type of strange. Remus weaved under his desk chair and went under the desk. It was a nice hidey-hole as a cat. He disliked small spaces less; it was comfortable under here. He pushed his head on the corner of the desk and his eyes widened. Fuck, that feels nice. No wonder cats do it all the time. Remus pushed his head against the side of the desk a few more times.

   Remus looked up at his loft bed. Could he get up there? Remus backed up across the room to get a running start and had to swerve to dodge the bed frame. Fuck, he was faster than he expected. He backed up to jump on top of his dresser instead and made it easily in a single leap. Remus primed himself for the wide gap at the edge of the dresser and bounded, landing easily in the middle of the bed. Wow, he could leap farther than he thought, too. It might have helped that he was big. He dug around in the sheets and curled up. Being a cat wasn’t the most fun possible choice when magic was involved, but he was loving every second of this.

   He hopped down with silent ease off the bed and jumped up to work the knob. It took him multiple tries to grip it, but he got the door open and walked next door to Roman’s room. The door was closed, but that was no match for his monster kitty paws now that he knew the trick. Remus opened the door with ease and strutted into the bedroom. Roman was doing homework with his headphones on at the floor-height table. He bounced his knee while he sat bent over the textbook and his notebook, humming along to the music.

   “Yeah?” Roman’s eyes moved to the door after a lag while he finished writing something. “Oh!” Roman chuckled to himself. “Did Remus bring you home or something?” Roman asked, holding out his hand. Remus walked up and sniffed Roman’s hand to keep up the act. It smelled strongly of pencil graphite and notebook paper, but there was a faint hint of some sugar cookies under that. 

   Remus bumped his head into Roman’s hand and Roman pet him. Remus thought it would feel more like a massage, but it was mostly that the motion was soothing. It made Remus feel safe and comfortable and loved. The petting was smooth and made his brain tingle in the best way. Remus flopped down on the floor next to Roman, who kept petting him. Roman leaned to look into the empty hallway.

   “Re?” Roman called out, and Remus meowed in reply. “Hm. You’re very smart to get the door open, but stay out of my mom’s office. She won’t mind if you visit us, but she doesn’t like pets,” Roman warned Remus. He was well aware. Can’t please everyone. Remus laid his head against Roman’s leg and started purring. It must have been reflexive because he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

   Roman continued petting Remus slowly while he went back to his homework. Remus’s ears twitched at the small noises the pencil made against the paper. He wouldn’t mind just sitting here doing homework quietly with Roman as a human, either. Maybe he could try again. But not right now. He couldn’t describe how happy he was to relax with Roman and get affection like this. It was honestly worth any minutes he lost off the end of his life. 

   What were minutes, anyway? They didn’t make a difference in the long run. Remus wasted minutes of his life on absolute shit. This was worth it. Remus closed his eyes and relaxed, listening to the muted sounds of Roman’s music and the rustling of pages while Roman worked. The time passed and Remus never second-guessed the use of his time again.

   “Hey, kitty. I’ve got to get ready for bed. C’mon, let’s get you back to Remus,” Roman alerted him, standing up. Roman stretched out his legs. Remus meowed in objection and rubbed against Roman’s jeans. Roman moved past Remus and headed out his bedroom door into the hall. Remus followed, rolling his eyes. Roman pushed open Remus’s door the rest of the way and stuck his head in. “Remus—” Roman stopped talking and looked around the bedroom. 

   “Huh. I wonder where he is,” Roman hummed. He squatted down and signed, picking up Remus. “I guess I’ll take you back out myself,” Roman told him, and Remus meowed in objection again. “Sorry, kitty, we don’t have food or a bathroom for you. You can come to visit again, though. I don’t know exactly where Remus found you,” Roman explained evenly and headed downstairs. He unlocked the backdoor and dropped Remus outside. Remus spun around to glare at Roman before bolting back into the house.

   “Cat, no!” Roman shot quietly, holding out his hand. Remus bounded up the stairs and rushed into his room. He couldn’t pull the door closed, so he rushed under his loft and yanked at the curtain before pulling off the ribbon with his teeth.

   That dimension-hopping sensation overwhelmed Remus again, and he fell against his desk while the world did a triple somersault and took him with it. Remus ran his hand through his hair and exhaled hard, the air hissing through his teeth. He held his head with both hands and filled his lungs completely. The world didn’t smell as strong as a human. He let out the air slowly.

   “Kitty,” Roman whispered, sticking his head into Remus’s room. “Kitty, where are you?”

   “I’ll handle it, Ro,” Remus informed him, pulling open the curtain on his loft bed to look at Roman.

   “Oh! I didn’t see you in there. Cute cat. It’s almost bedtime, so hurry,” Roman waved and stood up straight.

   “G’night,” Remus waved back.

   “Oh. Yeah. You too,” Roman sighed and turned into the hall. Remus slowly pulled himself up to his feet. The dizziness was all gone, but he was still disoriented from the missing senses and the height. Remus was so tall. How did he never notice?

   Remus needed some contingency stuff. He pulled a fashion scarf out of his dresser and tied it onto the doorknob so Remus could pull his door closed. Well, there was still the potential of getting locked out if he left and couldn’t turn back… Remus glanced at the window. It’s the second story, so it’s not a big deal if he left it unlocked, right? Remus didn’t know how he’d get up there just yet, but maybe he could jump from the tree? The gap was wide for a human, but as a cat, he should be okay. Maybe he could change back and move some stuff around in the backyard. Remus unlocked the window with a small nod to himself.

   He started to get ready for bed but ended up glancing at the window again. Maybe he should make sure he can make the gap, right? Remus kicked off his socks and opened up the window enough to get out, pulling out the screen and leaning it against the wall. He crawled through and sat on the slanted roof and closed the window again. He took a deep breath of the night air and looked up at the moon. 

   A good night to prowl. He tied the ribbon on his ankle and turned into a cat again. It was much easier this time, though it was still extremely disorienting. Remus waited to regain his sense of up and down before standing up and walking along the ledge of the roof towards the big honkin’ American Elm in the backyard. Roman and Remus’s tire swing still hung from a low, thick branch.

   Remus primed himself and took a running leap of faith towards the Elm. He soared across the gap easily and ended up overshooting just barely able to sink his claws in another branch in time and avoided hitting one that was on his lower left and tumbled to the ground. Remus scrambled to pull himself up and took a deep breath for his pounding heart.

   He looked down, and it looked like he was miles from the ground. He suddenly understood how cats got caught in trees because this was freaky. Remus knew intellectually that he could hop down to a lower branch or jump for the tire swing. The branch he was on didn’t allow for much mobility, so he made a hail-mary for the tire swing, landing in the net over the hole and getting his paw caught while the tire swing swung from the motion. Remus hissed at the net and pulled his foot out carefully before hopping down to the ground.

   Well. That was scary-awesome. But Remus was a free cat right now who happened to be able to jump farther than Remus could even comprehend. Remus made a run for the fence and used his back claws to propel himself up the fence and bounded over easily. He jumped down into the grass and ran for the sake of it. 

   All the fun of running away without actually doing so. There was a playground they used to go to as kids that Remus wanted to check out. It was long since not fun anymore, but as a cat, who knows? Remus wanted to feel like a kid again. He was too amped up to sleep anyway, and he was once again at a height he could enjoy a playground at and it was all he could think of.

   He bounded across yards and down the lane. The public park was between Remus’s neighbourhood and the apartment complex next door, so Remus had to make two blocks on much smaller feet. He was moving much faster, though, and had more endurance. He enjoyed the wind in his face as he ran down the lane.

   The playground’s parking lot was lit, but the playground itself sat shrouded in darkness. That was no problem for Remus’s cat eyes, though. They adjusted almost instantaneously as he stepped into the shade and walked into the park. The playscape was probably not comfortable on his paws, but there were other things to check out, still. Remus walked past the play structure. The web might be fun. That was still kind of fun as an adult. The park was technically closed, though, and he couldn’t play on it while kids were here. He could hurt one of them or someone would think he’s a pervert, and he’d get in trouble and go to jail.

   Remus wasn’t alone out here. There sat a person who looked Remus’s age sitting on the swings. Their head hung limply, and they held onto the chain at eye height. They were barely swinging at all. It was more like a minor despondent sway. They looked really miserable. Remus couldn’t swing as a cat, but he also was curious about the other stranger. One stranger tonight gave Remus magic powers, so random night strangers were much more interesting now. 

   That fact alone made Remus also wanted to return the favour to the universe if he could. The fox-masked being cheered Remus up. Maybe Remus could cheer up the sad person who appeared to be 70% hoodie by volume and kicking at the pebbles under the swings. Remus walked up in front of the person and sat down, meowing. Their head was down and their hood was up, so Remus couldn’t see their face.

   The stranger didn’t look up from soundlessly staring down at nothing. Remus stepped closer, meowing again. He looked up at the stranger’s face from the ground. They looked empty. Their eyes were unfocused and their expression was somewhere between numb and desolate. Remus meowed louder, and the stranger blinked. They recoiled their head and rubbed their eyes, blinking a few more times before their eyes focused enough to notice Remus.

   “Oh. Hey,” The stranger greeted Remus. Remus rubbed against the person’s legs. He hoped they weren’t allergic. They watched Remus weave around their legs for what felt like an eternity, but they never sniffled, so it seemed okay for now. “You’re really friendly, huh?” The person reached down their hand and Remus bumped into their hand right away.

   The sad person let out a weak chuckle through their nose and scratched at Remus’s chin. Remus froze for a moment and pushed down into the stranger’s hand to help them scratch harder. That was better than pets. That made Remus feel like his entire body was tingling with elation. The stranger stopped scratching and sat up on the swing. But Remus wasn’t having that. He jumped up and deposited himself right on the person’s lap.

   “Woah,” The stranger seemed amused and went back to gently scratching behind Remus’s ear. Remus purred like a motorboat idling on a lake. One that might explode and kill twenty bystanders and sink a dinghy named Frank. Remus’s back leg twitched automatically as he settled down. He was probably vibrating the entire stranger he purred so hard.

   When the stranger stopped again, Remus meowed and licked at their hand, sitting limply next to Remus again. “You’re kind of needy,” The stranger sounded amused, switching to petting Remus with their other hand instead. Remus carefully laid down and licked the stranger’s hand again. 

   Remus liked it when cats did this, so he hoped this person would, too. They reached up to rub their eyes again and paused, sniffing the air. They sniffed again and tried smelling where Remus licked them. 

   “Fuck, cat, that’s noxious. What the hell did you eat?” They snickered, putting their hand back down. Remus tried to say ‘chips’, but a weird meow came out instead, so he rested his head on the stranger’s hand.

   “Do you belong to someone?” The person asked curiously. They sat up more and looked around the area. They dug around at the thick fur on Remus’s neck and hummed in dissatisfaction. “A nice cat like you deserves a good home. It’s not safe out here for you,” They shook their head and went back to petting them. “But thanks for visiting,” They smiled down at Remus. “I’ve got school, I should get going,” They sounded sad, but Remus jumped off and spun around to sit and watch them get up.

   The stranger dragged themselves off the swing and waved to Remus. Remus meowed and waved a paw back, which made the stranger give a small smile in return. Remus had school too, so he should probably get home. But he got them to smile, so it satisfied the need to do something nice for the world in return as he bounded down the street back towards his house.

---

personal taglist: @elizabutgayer @ollyollyoxinfree 

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Cuddles: @idont-freaking-know @aceawkwardunicorn @enby-ralsei

#tsss #sanders sides #tsss fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #tsss fanfic #ayri writes #tied in green #chapter fic #cat!remus #shapeshifter!remus #tss fanfic #tss fanfiction #food tw #magical self harm kind of #strangers in the night

[scriptaed]

tell me that you love me.

genre: angst, angst, angst;

pairing: yoongi x reader;

length: 1.7k;

synopsis: sometimes letting go is the hardest thing to do - a cruel lesson that comes crashing on the both of you when the unexpected occurs: a mutual fall out of love. 

commissioned by @minyoongail​​: once again, a big big thank you for supporting me in what i do. i hope this angst doesn’t hit too hard. lots of love!

When you settle into bed, engulf yourself into the cold sheets, and sink into the foam with a long-gone sun that beckons for an impending slumber that never seems to come, you could pretend that everything is fine… you could pretend you’re content with this deafening silence, you could pretend you’re happy lying in his bed alone at night, you could pretend nothing has changed and you could pretend nothing needs to be changed, yet the lonesome weight that burdens your chest particularly heavily tonight is an unequivocal sign of everything but. 

Because you can still remember the undeniable jitters that left you squirming when he entrusted you and only you to his apartment. Because you can still recall prancing around in his room and resisting the urge to squeal in fear of scaring your newly established relationship. Because, even as you lie here staring blankly at the jet-black ceiling of his room where you could once admire the bedazzled stars, you can still reminisce over the way your heart once threatened to jump out into the sheets that envelops you in the euphoric scent of him. 

Now, however, your frozen heart stills even in the wraps of his comforters and the sparks that had once kept you up through the darkened night are long gone. Here you lay in his bed, heart perturbed and eyes wide awake for all the wrong reasons; because even through the pitch black lighting of this room, even a blind person could sense the biting cold sifting through the room he had left you in tonight. 

Since when did everything change? 

How did things get so bad? 

And is it your fault that things got to this point? 

It’s been an evident problem in your relationship. Neither you nor Yoongi had the courage to voice it; simply, the glaring gap that widens by the end of each week has been enough to speak it into existence. You’ve made your best efforts to plea for its return: the sparks, the jitters, the utter adoration of which you cherished each touch and each second of his embrace—but not even that is enough to salvage the sinking ship. 

It would have been less of a killer in you if it had been a one-way-street of efforts, but the worst part of it is: he, too, had failed in your similar endeavors. You could tell by the way he returned home earlier, the bags under his eyes more evident than ever but the vivacious look of his that begged for you to interpret otherwise, or the way he incessantly reminded you of how much he “loved” you, as if it’s become another task on his to-do-list done out of obligation. His hands that squeeze yours tightly out of fear that you would somehow disappear by the time he awakened, his arms that wrap around you in the middle of the night that affirmed to him that you are, indeed, still his, they only sat on your conscience like a stain that could never be cleaned. 

He was willing to try. He was equally desperate. He was everything that you could ask for. 

Yet, ultimately, it wasn’t enough—and that, the inevitable burn that was your relationship in itself, is the worst epiphany of them all. 

“Hey,” you find yourself uttering on your side when you hear the familiar sound of his keys quietly unlocking the doors behind you. 

“Hey,” he replies flatly. Gently, he closes the door behind him, as if he had only been speaking to himself and you were just speaking in your sleep. 

His things drop one by one and you count to yourself like you’ve always done. First, his bag. Thump. Next, his shoes. Two thumps. And now—you should’ve been smiling to yourself because your favorite part is coming up but you find yourself unbudged, something brimming on the edge of a fall somewhere deep within your chest—his feet shuffle through the vicinity of the room like raindrops on the roof, pitter patter, and joins you in bed. The mattress sinks under you just as an unsettling thought dawns upon you. How many more times would you hold the privilege of counting the most mundane yet personal things like this? 

Yoongi takes a deep breath in through his nose and sighs out the heavy thoughts that must have been weighing his mind, something he’s always done after a particularly rough day. Usually, you would roll around to bring him into a tight, comforting embrace even whilst in your sleep, as if you could detect his presence regardless of the time, location, or state of mind… as if he was made to be yours and you were made to be his—a belief, no, a truth that you’ve always been proud of and Yoongi could only roll his eyes at because he, too, had no choice but to agree. 

Lately, however, you’ve found yourself less and less vocal over your role as the last piece to his puzzle. Day by day, you’re starting to discover all the jagged edges, the very reasons that you just don’t quite seem to fit; rather, you’re simply a piece feigning to mold your very being around his own jigsaw. You can’t even tell the love of your life just how well you were suited for him, because even you can’t convince yourself of such a lie. 

Thus, his once-solidified confidence that he had found his last lover faded day after day. No longer do you hear him arguing with his parents over the phone that you are, indeed, worth the pain. No longer do you see him laughing along with his friends and no longer do you feel his arm slinging over your shoulders as he proudly introduced you as his long-awaited girlfriend. 

So, tonight, all the burdensome realizations that hit the both of you since stepping foot into this dreaded apartment manifest in the heaviest of sighs that has even you sinking into the abyss.

“Did I wake you?” he says. 

“Mm mm,” you deny, humming, the edge of your voice hitching when you feel his hand shifting under the sheets, hesitating for a second as they hover over your arms before finally taking a leap of faith and wrapping themselves over the last notches of his puzzle.

You don’t quite fit.

Odd. This gesture used to be the most natural one of your ephemeral nights together. When was the last time you had noticed his arms wrapping around you? How long has it been since he’s held you like this that you finally realize how desperately your heart has been aching for this? 

Pulling you into him, your back just barely grazes his stone-cold chest that serves as a border between you and him; it’s almost as if the both of you must overcome the whole universe and galaxy’s opposition akin to the work against a repelling magnetic force… and it’s at this moment that it hits you: maybe some things just aren’t meant to be. 

Should you address the words that scream at the both of you throughout the stagnant air? 

“Hey,” you manage to say meekly under your breath. 

We need to talk.

“Yeah?” he answers. 

I know. 

It takes every last ounce of your remaining love to turn around and hold his cheeks in both hands, “long day?” 

How many more days do I have to comfort you like this? 

“I guess,” he mumbles, sighing as he nestles his head into the crook of your neck. 

I don’t know. I don’t want to know. 

“Actually,” his rarity of a correction catches you off guard, “yeah.”

Your hands, as if a direct reflection of his, traces along his skin, from his delicate hands on the small of your back, up along his arm, and finally hovering over his head, you hesitantly pat him in the familiar rhythm of which he had once been lulled into nights of tranquility—tonight and the last month, however, he holds you with the full expectancy of an impending night fed off of profound anxiety. 

Maybe it’s the realization that hits him or perhaps it’s the spur of the bittersweet moment that gnaws at the both of you, but his usual resilient self is nothing but a facade tonight… because how many more times could he be held in your arms like this? 

“It’s okay,” you smile, muffled by his hair, “you’re home now.”

Just pretend nothing’s wrong. For once, for one last time, let’s return to those nights, to those times I could hold you in my arms and not fear the day moments like these become nothing but a distant memory. 

A long minute of silent proceeds until he speaks, albeit mumbled and slurred like he does when he speaks from the heart, “...I’m a lucky man.”

Damn, why do I have to realize it now when it’s my last?

Those words, for once, you know are genuine—neither a facade nor an obligation, neither an act of courtesy nor a last resort to save an inevitable end, but a last confession on the dance floor that you two find yourself twirling around and around in even as the music ends and the party's over... because this woman, the woman he holds in a delicate embrace, is the one he had somehow watched slip from his hands… farther, and farther, and farther away.

And he wants you to know before it’s too late. 

The night is long. Dreadfully long. Especially now that you realize it’s all coming to a crashing end much earlier than you had expected, much sooner than the worst possibility you had ever conjured in the past sleepless nights. You count every second. You count every breath. You hold your own, wanting to preserve the stillness of the moment, the tranquility of his embrace, the memory of him, as if the present is already a frame of the past. 

“Hey, Yoongi,” you say hesitantly but from the heart. 

“Yeah?” he responds.

But he knows exactly what you’re about to say, because when you speak for one last time...

“I love you.”

...and he tightens his embrace with a gentle silence, you know you have your answer. 

It’s a painful one. One you’ve been avoiding to admit all this time. But at least it’s one you’ve known all along. 

He can’t tell you that he loves you… because he doesn’t. 

At least not anymore.

#yoongi angst #bts angst #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #yoongi scenarios #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #suga angst #suga x reader #suga x you #suga fanfic #yoongi fanfic #suga scenarios #bts scenario #bangtan angst #scriptaed

[comic-brew]

Pieces

@whumptober2020 days n.4 Running out of time: Buried Alive and n.5 Falling (alt prompt)

Summary: The wet soil doesn’t end, it engulfs him in its cold embrace and doesn’t let him go, no matter how wildly he struggles against the earthly tendrils wrapped securely around his limbs and torso.

Notes: shitty au where basically TV Titans Jason has flashbacks of his comic-life, even though he technically haven’t lived any of them yet. How much this story progresses depends on if I’ll write a second ch. Beware of 2 different writing styles cause I started this way too long ago.

Reading time: 35 mins (4.4k)

Warnings: whump, panic attacks, being buried alive, self deprecating thoughts, angst, oxygen deprivation, PTSD (?), vertigo, falling, perhaps sth else I missed??

or read here on ao3!

ps. reblogs and feedback bring the author great joy uwu

***

“Hey, Jason” Gar greets after knocking and opening the door to Jason’s room just enough to peer his head through.

“How’re you doing?”

The boy waits but Jason doesn’t reply. He’s simply staring out his window, arms falling limply at his side, barely even registering the new presence in the room. Garfield bites his lip and invites himself inside and by Jason’s side. He glances at the boy’s rapidly moving, but hollow eyes, then at the view of the sky they’re aiming at.

“Are you still with us, buddy?” he asks.

He hesitantly runs a hand up and down in front of Jason’s distant gaze and that seems to do the trick.

Jason blinks, then shakes his head to rid himself of whatever thought he was so unnervingly engrosed into. Turning to face the green haired boy, he assumes the most carefree expression he can muster, forcing a halflit smile in a futile attempt to compose himself.

“Yeah, was just.. thinking” he assures, his eyes holding no emotion.

“ ‘Course… You sure you’re okay?” Gar presses, making little effort to conceal the incredulous frown his eyebrows are drawn into.

Jason shifts in his place while his hands clench and unclench, in an attempt to calm his discomfort and aggravation at Gar’s question, because he knows his teammate’s just asking out of honest concern. It’s not his fault Jason hasn’t slept in days and isn’t used to people checking up on him.

“I’m fine, dude, seriously.” Jason insists and Garfield knows better than to further inquire him “Now, did you want something?”

Fuck. Jason almost winces at how aggressive his words have come out. Gar blinks, opening his mouth to say something. Before his thoughts can materialize on the tip on his tongue, he seems to rethink what he wanted to say. That delay of course doesn’t go unnoticed by Jason.

God..Why does he always mess everything up?

As Gar’s about to speak again, the new Robin raises a hand to the green haired boy’s chest, stopping any word before it can reach his ears. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just tired and I’m taking it out on you.” he huffs a bitter laugh “You don’t deserve me being an ass to you too.”

The boy’s brown eyes light up with understanding and relief and his tense shoulders physically relax at the confession. “Hey, it’s cool man. I get it.” he acknowledges, smiling politely and squeezing Jason’s shoulder.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t recoil from the touch, instead reciprocating Gar’s reassuring smile with an exhausted, but genuine and lighthearted smirk.

They both remain in that position for several split seconds, until Garfield finally retracts his hand to clasp his palms together as it dawns on him that he still hasn’t told his teammate the news he came to deliver.

“Actually I did come to tell you something” he announces, grinning widely and slightly fidgeting with his fingers “Rachel and I were thinking of watching a movie, you’re welcome to join us. You know, if you feel up to it.”

Jason takes a spare second to ponder and process Gar’s proposition. He steals a glance at the translucent glass of the window, separating his world from the towering skyscrapers and showering his neatly made bed in the soft gleam of the afternoon.

It would surely be better than staying there alone, falling into the inky depths of his eternal abyss.

Turning to face the boy whose eyes scour him expectantly for any indication of his intentions, he relents with a rather forced shrug.

“Uh, sure, I guess.” Jason says.

Gar’s face lights up and pulls into a joyous grin. “Cool… cool.”

He awkwardly shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants and starts heading towards the door, stopping midway to listen to Jason calling out after him.

“I’ll be there in a sec.”

The green haired boy simply nods and subtly waves his hand goodbye, before he disappears into the hallway.

***

When Jason steps foot into one of the spacious living areas Titans Tower houses, there are three heads turning at the soft sound of his approaching footsteps where he expected to be greeted by two. The platinum curls flowing gracefully with the motion can only belong to one person. Well, at least one person they know.

“Rose” he sighs. “Didn’t expect you to come”

“Didn’t expect to come either” she counters, the corners of her lips twitching upwards in amusement, “But I guess this could be fun after all”

She is comfortably perched on a lovely armchair covered by smooth, pearl fabric, facing the flank of a matching couch. One knee bent and placed securely under her body, the side of her head is doused in the last dull afternoon light seeping into the room through the daffodil curtains keeping the golden sunset rays at bay. Rachel is regarding Jason with a mellow smile, sitting cross legged on the far end of the couch neighbouring Rose’s armchair and Garfield has already started fumbling with a rather ancient DVD player.

It’s a wonder how this thing still exists in a building where interactive holograms are a norm. But then again it wouldn’t be the oddest thing about this place.

“Well,” Gar begins, slightly groaning when the DVD port spitefully refuses to close, “We’re both glad you did join us. Now, take a seat ladies and gentlemen!” he announces with fervor when he finally manages to slam the port close, and gestures towards the unoccupied cushions next to the purple haired girl.

Jason takes the invitation gladly and flops down on the other end of the couch, closer to the hall he was in just a few seconds ago.

“What are we watching?” Jason asks.

Rachel turns her focus to him then, leaning her back on the couch and clutching a decorative pillow to her abdomen. “Gar found this, and I quote, 'apocalyptic masterpiece of censorship’ and insisted we had to watch it.” she grins, rolling her eyes at reciting her friend’s words.

Jason and Rose both snort at that as Garfield reaches the couch in a few quick strides. “Seriously guys, I have only ever heard about this movie from some pretty questionable sources.” he says giddily before sobering up again, clearly fussing over his discovery.

“We’re literally staring an urban legend in the face, guys!”

“Yeah, not like you hang out with the Titans or whatever” Jason quips. Seriously, how can a movie be more exciting than fighting crime alongside heroes? Than being a hero?

“Good point, bro. Good point”

Jason shoulders stiffen at the nickname, but only for a briefly awkward moment which Gar is more than eager to fill with more (unnecessary) information.

“Well, according to those guys the movie was banned shortly after its release and all copies were revoked and ultimately destroyed.”

“Clearly not all copies” Rachel muses before asking why the movie was banned in the first place. Gar mumbles something about it addressing some extremely controversial topics and offending some powerful douchbag before making his way to the middle cushion.

Rachel scoots over without even untangling her legs to make more room for him to sit.

Rose simply raises an eyebrow.

“Where the hell did you even hear about this stuff in the first place?”

Gar suddenly goes stills in his place on the couch. He runs a hand through his messy strands of hair before reluctantly providing an answer. “Uh… Tumblr?” he says while grinning awkwardly.

Rachel nods her head back slack-jawed, brows shooting up in a terrible attempt at showing understanding. Gar frowns as he then glances at Jason who’s staring at him with wide disbelieving eyes, the sound of Rose dramatically smacking her own face enhancing the atmosphere.

“It’s not that surprising guys, come on!” Gar protests, an exasperated sigh emanating from his lips.

At that, the three of them exchange deadpan looks before bursting out laughing. The laughter soon subsides into small giggles and high pitched breaths as the green haired boy smiles with content and leans above the mahogany coffee table to grab the tv remote.

“Well, friends, brace yourselves, for the most epic zombie movie to barely exist” he says, smirking as he plops back down on the leathern cushions.

On the screen, their reflections have given their place to the lean figure of a boy of asian descent in his 16s walking alongside a girl with dark complexion and luscious, auburn hair. A gentle, velvety voice surrounds them from the speakers and integrates them in the world the film is set in.

Time flows pleasantly as the story progresses with no interruption aside from a few enthusiastic inputs from a beaming Garfield.

The rest of the Titans are all gathered together in some other part of the Tower, once again excluding them from whatever plans they might be conjuring.

Because that went so well last time, Jason unwittingly ponders, quick to dismiss the thoughts lest those dreadfully fresh memories resurface.

But perhaps it’s already too late to whisk them away.

Jason gets up out of the blue, eliciting an inquisitive glare from the rest of the kids.

“I’ll just.. go grab some popcorn” he states vacantly, pointing at the hallway with his thumb without breaking eye contact. Truth is he needs a minute to recover from the intrusion of sensations he’d rather forget.

Plus, popcorn sounds nice.

“We can pause the film if you want” Rachel’s soft voice prompts, wording what has likely been dancing around the others’ minds as well.

“Nah, it’s cool. It won’t take long. I’m not going all the way to the Antarctica and back or whatever” he replies, fighting the nagging urge to roll his eyes and let the poison drip onto his voice. The kids nod and in a moment’s notice he’s gone.

Right foot.

Left foot.

Right foot.

Keeping up his pace feels abysmally hard. His head is reeling and his senses are swimming all around the place, reality feels like a fuzzy blanket draped over a newborn’s skin. Jason takes a few more carefully calculated steps before he stumbles on thin air. Careening into the wall he leans against the slick concrete on his flank until the world stops shifting enough for him to continue.

Somehow Jason makes it to the kitchen. He fumbles with the drawers, opening and closing them jerkily.

In just a few seconds the falling has progressed to the point where he can barely stand. He doesn’t think it’s ever been this bad the previous times.

Everything is spinning around. And when it all shifts upside down he’s falling from the marble to the ceiling, and when his skin and the asbestos are inches from colliding, the world tilts again like an hourglass that’s ran out of sand.

Just like that his descend is reset. Over and over.

He finds the popcorn bag in the last one and grabs it hastily. Only after the third attempt, the previous two ending shamefully with his clasp clutching piteously at empty air.

Dropping it of on the countertop it’s more muscle memory than will that redirects him to the sink. His fingers grip the knob, turning the water lukewarm, but as he lets it puddle on his palms he can’t feel it any clearer than a breath of a ghost on the back of his neck.

Jason splashes the water on his face but it ends up mostly on his clothes and on the ground. Gravity works funny when you have no sense of it.

His hands latch onto the edge of the sink and cling for dear life. The ledge, hold on to the ledge. His eyes open wide, they soak up the terror of the height. The terror of death.

The eerie reassurance of death.

The smog dissipates faster this time. But with it the distressing thought that it’s getting worse, that he’s getting worse, finds the chance settle in his gut.

Jason can’t do this anymore.

But he’s already been gone for a conspicuously large amount of time, and the thought of having to explain his reoccurring day-mares can’t even be entertained by his mind. So that makes a problem for another day.

The popcorn is ready in only a few minutes. Jason holds on to the sink for a couple more moments, taking deep breaths in and out, until his heart has stopped beating frenzied.

If they ask, he can always say he had trouble with the 'corn.

He can always say.

“Okay” he breathes out, closing his eyes as he informs nobody in particular.

“Okay I’m ready”

With that Jason grabs the bowl filled to the brim with the snack and disappears out the door. The journey from the kitchen to the smaller living area is nothing compared to the odyssey he went through following his departure from the lounge.

Once he sets foot back inside all heads turn towards him.

“What did I miss?” he asks, ever so cheerfully as he strides closer to the small den of couches.

One of them starts speaking, no doubt filling him in on the events that happened while he wasn’t watching. Whoever it is, Jason can’t concentrate on their voice enough to tell it apart.

On the screen, the boy is desperately gasping for air as he’s emerging from a moonlit grave.

The world spins out of focus, and before any of them know it the bowl has slipped through Jason’s limb fingers.

It has slipped, and it is falling.

***

The splintered wood pricks and stabs the sensitive skin beneath his shattered fingernails and the blood is threatening to leave his hands and drip onto his glacial cold face. His fingers hurt, they weren’t made as a shovel, they weren’t made to be penetrating wood, but they are doing exactly that, and he can’t acknowledge the piercing, burning throbs that travel through his veins to set the rest of his body aflame, because his lungs are burning, they’re flaring up more and more with every broken attempt at filling them up with air-

He has to dig, he has to keep going-

The last layer of polished wood finally relents, small pieces of it falling onto his raggedly, but once expensive, dandy suit. Blood is mixed with sweat on his palms, accelerating the speed with which it runs along his hands, tickling him while he scrambles for a breath of fresh air that never comes.

“N..o…” he croaks out and speaking is hard, his throat feels as the ash coated land left behind the passage of lava, and now he needs to cough, and he needs to breathe but there’s no air coming in, and frankly, he can’t decide whether it’s from the panic that has overcome him or because there simply isn’t enough oxygen in the cramped space he’s trapped in.

It’s not some prank

As if on cue the ground above him slightly shakes as the mud repositions and soil seeps through the open slit of the-

Of the coffin.

I’m buried alive…. I… I…, he realizes, ever so frantically.

And so his thoughts begin to plague him, the next one banging and clawing at the door of his mind before the previous has had the time to be stated, he’s hyperventilating and fairly so, he’s buried underneath 6 feet of soil-

Stop it Jason, get ahold of yourself. You made it this far because you never gave up, you won’t give up now either, a part of himself with a semblance of sanity left scolds him and orders his bloody hands to move, they grip the edge of the broken pine casket and pull with all their might.

The wooden seal cracks and Jason makes a supernatural effort to set it aside as it holds the weight of 6 feet of soil, his atrophied muscles protest by threatening to give out but it’s sheer determination that gets him to move on, he has to make it, he can’t die in there, he can’t leave, can’t leave his family.

Mud now openly drowns him from the huge whole in the lid of the casket, devouring every corner, sticking to every inch of skin and fabric.

He’s still gasping for air, his lungs and throat feel ready to burst and he’s dizzy, everything is spinning, but on the other hand 'everything’ is nothing more but a muddy grave and he’s still inside.

Almost frantically his injured fingers reach for the source of the soil. With jerky movements and all the strength he can muster he forces his hands through the earth. The stiff mud swallows him whole, lets the worms and maggots get tangled in his long strands of hair. Jason keeps his eyes and mouth stubbornly shut as he desperately struggles to propel his flimsy frame through the endless layers of ground.

He can faintly feel the darkness creeping in the corner of his mind, promising relief, promising safety. Those whispers sound tempting to his weak, grazed arms, to his blazing lungs-

The whispers don’t know that it’s not written in his DNA to yield.

His arms hastily swim through the wet mass that’s holding him beneath the surface, he can feel the dirt in his hair, in his ears, in his shirt, his pants, his everything. Maggots and caterpillars are crawling on his convulsed features. His heart is throbbing unnaturally loud, he can hear the thumping in his ears as his marred hands push and dig with painstaking effort.

Better hurry little robin! It ain’t fun if you die now, amiright boy blunder? HahaHA!

He’s digging, he’s trying, dyeing the earth crimson with his blood, please-

The wet soil doesn’t end, it engulfs him in its cold embrace and doesn’t let him go, no matter how wildly he struggles against the earthly tendrils wrapped securely around his limbs and torso.

He’s desperately gasping for a breath, just one breath to keep going, he’s coughing up phlegm and bile while his chest writhes and burns. He can’t help his mouth gaping in a last-gasp search for oxygen but the only thing entering his mouth and traveling towards his pricking trachea is dirt and rocks and… and…

…a feather?

A feather. He can feel it with his tongue, he can taste its sourness and almost hear a soft crunch under his teeth.

A feather. Robin.

He’s Robin, and Robin doesn’t die alone in an empty grave.

Robin fights. Robin protects. Robin wins.

With renewed resoluteness he forges ahead, his hand reaches where he supposes skyward is one more time.

This time, it’s met with the comfort of soft raindrops and the gentle wind blowing against his numb fingertips.

***

“-on? Jason!” Rachel calls at the sound of the metal bowl clattering to the ground, slipping right through the boy’s fingers and letting the freshly baked popcorn scatter all over the marble floor.

The girl exchanges a worried glance with Gar, before Rose gets up and marches furiously towards an exasperatingly unresponsive Robin, the popcorn crunching beneath her feet. She comes to a halt a few inches away from Jason’s hollow eyes and slaps him hard across the cheek.

The other two begin to protest loudly but Rose barely pays them any mind. She watches with pursed lips as Jason’s cloudy eyes regain focus and his hand shoots up to the skin gradually assuming the oh-so-wonderful shade of radish.

“Ow.. what the fuck?” Jason frowns at her while cautiously rubbing his cheek with his right hand. There’s no blood on his fingers, no mud on his skin. He can breathe.

Rose ignores his baffled query and simply turns to the two teens watching the whole scene play out from the safety of the cushions. She beams triumphantly as she announces smugly, “See? It worked.”

Jason, visibly annoyed by his incompetence to understand what the hell is happening traps her wrist in a vice like grip and tugs, forcing her to face him. She squints viciously at the gesture although she effortlessly pulls her hand free.

“Why the fuck did you slap me?”

The girl opens her mouth to respond, putting together a not so composed reply in her head -to put it mildly-, so it’s probably for the best when Rachel interrupts her train of thought.

“What happened, Jason? You completely zoned out”.

“Yeah, dude. What the hell was that all about?” Gar chimes in, nodding at the pile of popcorn by Robin’s feet and at the discarded bowl that has slid all the way to the edge of the couch he and Rachel are perched on.

“Wha..” Jason regards the strewn snacks with a quizzical look, as if he’s waiting for them to answer why they’re spread out all over the floor. Oddly enough, they don’t.

He fixes his still hazy gaze on his calloused hands next, his confusion manifesting in the form of furrowed brow.

He- he was-

no. He was never there. Always here.

His inviolate fingers are proof enough of that. But then.. is he losing his mind? Just like old Bertha, the old lady running around the theater, screaming that she had been kidnapped and experimented on by flying giraffes…. Not that it’s impossible with everything he’s witnessed the past year.

No, that can’t be it. He’s still shaken up from the fall right? It’s logical that he’s hallucinating about graves, he was seconds from ending up in one just a few days ago. It will go away right?

It will, it has to.

They can’t know, the street kid inside of him insists, they’ll throw you away like a broken toy. Broken..

“Jason, talk to us. What’s wrong?” Rachel is still staring at him, they all are. Her voice is laced with pity, they’re sorry for him. They’re pitying him, the bird that broke its wing and they know that now can’t survive on its own.

“What’s wrong with me?!” His head snaps to where her voice is coming from and the girl flinches at the bite behind his words.

“I didn’t mean- I meant you should perhaps tell Dick about it, he might be able to help” she stutters, her face bearing a deer in the headlights expression. Her gaze briefly meets with Garfield’s, perhaps to seek some backup. Somehow that angers Jason even more.

“Tell Dick? Really?” he snorts, “How about we tell Dick about that time you almost fucking choked me, maybe he could help!” he gasps mockingly. He is shouting now and the girl seems taken aback by the progression of his anger, gawking at him with a hint of sorrow tainting the indigo of her irises.

Gar stands up from his seat and approaches him, getting in the way of him and a Rachel fumbling for the right response to Jason’s accusation. The green haired boy extends his hand almost cautiously, it’s a simple gesture meaning nothing else than stop. It’s common sense, he knows he is going too far again but Jason’s common sense has jumped out the window. To him, they’re treating him like a wounded animal.

Perhaps he’s just projecting how cornered he feels.

“Dude, that’s enough”

“I’m sorry to break this to you, ” he points a finger accusingly at Rachel, “but Dick can’t fix everything like some kind of god you’ve made him out to be”

“Buddy-”

“He can’t fix you and your fucking razor blade tornado or whatever…” he keeps holding Rachel’s bleak glare gesturing wildly with his fingers and ignoring Garfield’s feeble attempts at making him stop.

“…and he can’t fix this” Jason concludes by pointing miserably at his head, then the rest of his body, until his hand drops limp at his side in resignation. His newfound rage has dissipated into downright bitterness.

At the far back the movie is still playing, forgotten. In the faint comforting light of the screen the girl with the auburn hair is kneeling in front of a stone cold body, burrowing her face in chestnut locks that would never grow any longer, as her shoulders heave sharply with every wreaked sob.

Grieving. Jason can still feel the three pairs of eyes -one consisting of one blue and an eyepatch- burning holes into the glimmers of tears stubbornly refusing to be spilt from his, even as he averts his stare.

There’s a deep pause after the abrupt revelation and the four kids are encompassed in a veil of tense silence no one seems willing to break.

Rose -who seemed rather amused when the yelling had started- is now solemnly inspecting the intricate patterns on the sheer curtains tucked to the side of the plate-glass window. Garfield is standing with his arms crossed protectively around his torso. Rachel has ceased to stare wide eyed like a freshly caught fish, however she’s keeping her arms close to her body and shifting awkwardly in her place. Her expression remains grim and her eyes dim, bearing an eerily sorrowful glint.

She puts her head down and eventually flies out of the room without another word. Consumed either by irritation or even guilt, if Jason has to guess. Gar spares no more than a defeated glance at her departure, otherwise maintaining his position by the abruptly deserted couch. He simply reaches for the tv remote, cutting off image and sound amidst a heated argument between the two leads. Damn this movie.

Deathstroke’s daughter looks between the two boys expectantly for half a second. None of them pays her any mind, too busy staring at the suddenly immensely intriguing floor.

“Nevermind, I’m out of here” she mutters through gritted teeth before getting down from atop the loveseat she had claimed and heading towards her own room.

Jason stares blankly at the scattered popcorn, but it provides no answer to the million questions dancing around in his mind.

Frankly, he didn’t expect it to.

Gosh. He’s so messed up.

Gar offers to help him clean up. He refuses. Perhaps Jason pushes him away just like everyone else. He’s got his own mess to clean up, first literally.

The metaphorical one might have just stained too deeply to remedy.

The night finds him placing the broom back in it’s place in the supply closet and sitting alone in pitch darkness.

Thinking of a grave that doesn’t belong to him, it never did, but it has his name on it. Thinking of the memories he shouldn’t have, piecing together how his heart only knows more fragments have been prodding at him, more broken pieces he doesn’t know where they fit.

The night finds him sitting alone in pitch darkness. Shivering, shaking with quiet tears.

Knowing he’d be undisturbed, alone, in the grave he’s built for himself.

#whumptober2020 #no.4 #buried alive #no. 5 #falling #altprompt #tv: titans #dc titans #jason todd #whump #panic attack #self deprecating thoughts #angst #ptsd tw #rachel roth #raven teen titans #raven #gar logan #beast boy #rose wilson #ravager #my fic #my writing #robin!jason #robin

[aquaticibex]

-The Vow-

Alex, in all of his observational prowess, still somehow got separated from Valarian as they passed through the large cave system. His mother's lab was elusive, and she wanted it that way. He pressed on through the dark, and began to feel a peculiar odor infiltrate his senses. Everything grew fuzzy as he stumbled through the blackened corridors, moving forward on will and instinct alone. At last, he found that he had arrived in the familiar, empty tiled room.

The same room he had seen once a week since was a boy. It made him shiver to hear how silent it had become. In his memory, there were faint voices in the distance, guards at the dyoors, the brewing of concoctions and dull humming of devices, but now... now there was nothing. Dead. Still. Empty. Not even equipment remained in the room.

He couldn't wait for Valarian here, but after locking eyes with the cold golden orb that had appeared before him, he knew it wouldn't matter. “Mother...” he growled, “...what have you done?”

She shifted from the familiar throne-like chair that he was often chained to. The low scent of blood making him dizzy. He shouldn't be here like this, he knew this. Yet he couldn't move.

“My dearest son, I knew my husband was going to tell you, and yet you are too late,” she sneered. A sinking feeling rose in his gut as she stood over him. She held a chalice in one hand and a syringe in the other. “Your father had a good reign, but I fear its time for one of my own beautiful creations to take over, don't you agree!” Her voice was as chill as a desolate, frozen cavern; lifeless and hollow. “You two were always meant for this, destined for it. To fight to the death.” She ran her fingers along the rim of the chalice. “I raised you both so well, so methodically, so carefully, and this, my son, will be my greatest achievement.”

Suddenly, Cigfran swooped in, breaking her concentration, clawing and pecking before being struck away. She fell to the ground, breaking one of her delicate wings on impact. She slinked away in pain as Alex used this chance to free himself of her grip, readying his magic. His glare was met with a soured expression from his mother. “You are an insult to our family name and have betrayed all that our house stands for,” Alex cursed. “This marks the end of your wicked farce! Face me!”

With that they took into a clash of blades, ultimately ending in his sword driving deep into her side as her fist made sharp contact with his chest, knocking him back with surprising strength and precision. Everything ached, and she began to reach once again into the recesses of Alex’s mind.

“So you've bested me...” she huffed, blood dripping from her lips, “I’ll not die here. No. You will wait here and act to my will. You can hear me, you are bound as my fledgling, duty bound to my word and whim. I have won my child. Relax, embrace me, you can see me, I am family.”

Worn from the fight, Alex found it harder this time to resist her influence. He winced as he felt her voice creeping into his thoughts.

“I must say it took a lot of work to learn how to manipulate such an ancient bond... but I've finally done it. And it only took driving you deeper into your vampire nature.” She readied the syringe as Alex dropped helplessly to the ground. “A fair trade that I hold all the cards in.”

He couldn't think as a fire consumed his mind. Everything hurt, but he couldn't scream. He felt the needle pierce his skin, and the dreadful sensation of losing to the dreadfully familiar beast looming in his mind. The last remaining strings of rebellion cut, Alex dropped into unconsciousness while his body moved completely under her will. He stood, and sat in the throne to wait, much as a puppet on a string would, drinking from the cup in his hand. His mother slid away into the long dark caverns, leaving the room once again silent. Alex, or what was left of him, sat, silently waiting.

Beneath the foundations of the castle, Valarian waited patiently for Alexander’s return. He had told him that he would scout ahead, and would only be a moment, but that moment had come and gone five times over, and uneasiness was beginning to brew in Valarian’s heart.

His eyes, now gilded with dhampir sight, were not burdened by the darkness. He could make out every shape and shadow, and realistically knew he would detect anything that approached him, but just the knowledge that he was sitting in pitch darkness roused a kind of primal fear his humanity left in him.

“I should search for him...” he reasoned to himself. “If everything is truly alright, he’ll be able to find his way back to me.” Valarain ran his fingers tenderly over the ring that adorned his finger. “He always does.”

He stood up and began tailing Alex, following the twisting tunnels and caverns, searching for their conclusion, but it seemed the deeper he delved, the more they opened and sprawled.

He wandered awhile longer, beginning to worry they’d truly been separated when he felt a tingling sensation crawl through his senses, familiar and fond.

“Alex!” he whispered, detecting his scent.

Then it was like a trail had been laid for him, the scent in his mind manifesting into a whispy path that pointed directly through the caverns. He turned and followed, his pace quickening.

At long last the path led him to a narrow corridor, at the end of which stood an ancient iron door. Valarian braced himself against it and pushed it open, the harrowing creak echoing down the tunnel behind him.

He recognized what lay inside immediately. It had been rifled, the strange equipment had been all but stripped bare, but he knew it.

This was the queen’s laboratory, and in the grand seat opposite him, sat Alexander, appearing limp and unconscious.

“Alex..?” he whispered, approaching him cautiously. “Alex... can you hear me?”

Alex raised his head slowly at the sound. A voice. It grated on his senses and made him grit his teeth. He held his hand up to stop whoever had been approaching from coming closer. How long had he been there?

"Who are you?” Alex glowered, disdain crossed his features as he sat up. There was so much pain. Everything hurt, and did nothing for his mood. Something whispered to him that he hated this being before him.

Valarian halted in his tracks, perplexed at the question and visible hostility in Alexander’s stare.

“It’s me, Alex, it’s-“

He felt a chill through his body as his senses picked up another scent. A cold one, icy and forsaken. The scent of the queen. She was near... or rather, she had been until very recently. Valarian put together the pieces and looked into Alexander’s eyes, now burning with hatred.

“Alex... whatever she’s done to you...” he said, gentleness in all his tone, “...I know you’re still in there.”

This thing knew him, Alex thought. How? Had it always been this way? He wanted to stand, but when he tried, he stumbled down to his knees, pain ripping through him. His head was aching. He still couldn't push through this fog. Talking seemed to help. “Just tell me who you are!" He was frustrated. Don’t let him get close.

The sight of Alexander as he was now was ghastly. But the way he stumbled. The way he convulsed, the way he struggled to breathe and speak... this was a transformation. He’d felt that way before when Alex turned him all those years ago... but this was far more sinister. Alex had been there for him while he struggled to regain control. Valarian could barely remember the transformation itself, but he remembered Alex. He remembered his voice calling to him, telling him to hold on, to come back to him, and had it not been for that voice, he would have gotten lost in the void.

And as little experience as Valarian had with vampiric ailments and transformation, if he had to be that voice for Alexander, calling him back from the void, he would do it gladly. Without hesitation.

His resolve strengthened as he approached him.

“Come now. You know me, Alex,” he coaxed, laughing gently, “After all we’ve been through together, I don’t think you could forget me...” Slowly, he reached a hand out to him. “...and I certainly couldn’t forget you. Even after five years of trying, I couldn’t forget you.”

Alex charged forward, whipping his arm across Valarian’s body, digging his nails into his skin with a deadly grip. The force from his blow pushed Valarian backward, almost toppling him to the ground. He gasped in agony as the claws sank through his skin, but the pain only fueled his determination to burn brighter.

“Do you remember when we first met?” he asked, regaining his breath. “When we crafted that salve together, and I doubted the recipe, you told me to trust my heart.” His flesh quivered under the stabbing pain of Alexander’s grip. “You told me... to trust my heart then, and I’m trusting my heart now when it’s telling me that you aren’t a monster, Alex.”

He brought his hands to where Alex latched onto him, trying to ease his grip.

“Do you... do you remember when we went scavenging for pearl agates along the riverside?” Valarian winced, focusing completely on Alex, “It was in the heart of winter, and it was frigid. When I slipped on the rocks and fell into the water? And you-you dove in after me... and you brought me back... and that was the first time I felt your lips on mine, breathing life back into me, and I didn’t even notice how cold they were because I was nearly frozen myself... but you warmed me... you saved me Alex. You brought me back. And I think I fell for you that night, Alex. Beside that fire, warmth coming back to my bones... do you remember?”

Alex let go, his throat burning being so close, fangs aching as his....(his mind?) pushed him.

“Drain him. Let him lay.”

Releasing his claws, he laced a hand forcefully around Valarian’s neck, drawing his head back in one motion. His other hand wove into Valarian’s hand and held it tightly.

"Val....Please help me... I can’t get her out."

His words slurred, dizzy and desperate. His memories came and went as brief, incomprehensible flashes. This person was his friend? His name was Valarian. They've know each other a long time. He seemed to know him... to love him. And perhaps... he loved Valarian too?

She wanted him gone. His mother would get rid of him. His master. Her commanding voice flooded his thoughts once more:

“Do as I say. End it. Don’t push for him to kill you here and now. Do not give him that chance.”

His face drew closer, breath dancing over his long hair as deadly daggers threatened to rip every ounce of life from his prey. His scent was like home, each ragged breath pulling in the intoxicating smell. In the brief moment the voice in the back of his head was silent, Alex’s eyes caught sight of the face he had pulled back. Gold eyes met brown as they locked on to one another.

Valarian’s eyes widened with terror as Alexander grabbed his hair and pulled back his head, exposing his neck. One of his hands gripped predatorily in his hair, the other clinging desperately, pleadingly to his hand. He whimpered, gripping Alex’s hand back with all his strength, gathering all his courage to continue.

“S-see?” Valarian assured him between breaths, “you-you do remember me.... I knew you would,” he trembled, chuckling lightly. He continued:

“Alex, do you remember when-when you told me... you loved me?” Valarian could feel Alex’s fangs nearing his throat. “And you tried so hard to hide, but I knew what you were going to say before you said it... and I know... even though... even now, you’re hiding in there, I know you’re not-I know you’re not going to hurt me. I know...”

Valarain brought his other hand up and caressed Alex’s face.

“Alex...” he swallowed, “You always came back to me... even after I ran... like an idiot, I ran from you, and I hid for years and years and you still found me...” He sighed remorsefully. “Oh Alex... my Alex, such pain you must have been in, but you found me, Alex... you fought and fought and you found me... and you brought me back. You always brought me back. Just like you vowed you would.” Valarian stroked his face tenderly with the edge of his fingers, feeling the hunger and heat of the breath on his neck. “Our vows Alex? Do you remember? That day on the bridge... we took shelter from the rain, and you-you promised... I remember.” He traced Alex’s face with the back of his hand, running the solid texture of the ring across his skin. “I remember our vows, Alex.”

Alex grasped his hair threateningly tight. Valarian covered his hand with his own and squeezed it. He took a deep breath, grounding his voice, and ceasing the trembling.

"I say these words...” he recited, “...with the hope that one day... we may be bound forever in a complete union of souls...”

A growl came from Alex’s throat, but Valarian continued.

“In this most sincere vow one heart can make to another. Should we ever be parted, I will seek you with every part of my being.”

He closed his eyes tightly.

“You... shall never... be left to suffer the lasting pang of loneliness, nor the ever-flowing passage of time. I will be your sword and sheild, call and I will answer. This is a vow by lifelong devotion....”

He gripped Alex’s hand tighter, feeling his fangs graze his neck.

“My love is true, by my blood do I swear this to you... Alexander Vallentyne...”

His recitation closed with devoted finality. Under the deadly besiege of Alex’s grip, Valarian’s face was a picture of absolute peace.

“...I love you...”

A beat, a breath, Valarian felt the fangs lift from his throat.

"By this vow I am bound..." Alex mumbled closing his eyes. He rested his forehead against Valarian. The voice was purged from his mind, and he knew he only had moments before he was released back to the troughs of agony.

Lifting his head from his shoulder he caught the other’s lips in deep but short kiss, having to tear himself away lest his control faltered again.

"My love,” he gasped, “I’m so sorry... I... Have I hurt you?" His voice was still shaking. Never had he felt so out of his own control. So entrapped. So Defeated. He was tired and could no longer stand, and expending the last of his strength, he dropped to his knees. Valarian hurried to his side, shifting his weight to support him.

“No... of course you didn’t! Alex, I’m fine! I’m here!” He cradled him, burying his face in the crook of his shoulder. “I’m here...”

He held him like that, shielding him, sheltering him, as Alex had done for him so many times before.

Alex leaned into him. A light, pained laugh slipped through his clenched teeth. "I didn't realize... how much it hurts to die."

Valarian felt a lump forming in his throat. He knew he wasn’t losing Alex, but the grief was swallowing him all the same. It hurt, but nonetheless, he held him tightly, squeezing his hand through his spasms and convulsions. Every time Alexander winced or gasped in pain, Valarian would grip his hand, and whisper gentle words to him, assuring him, staying with him till the very end.

After awhile, the pain began to subside. Alex fell limp with an expended numbness allowing him to relax his body. "I am... I am so glad you are alright,” he trembled. “I don't even want to think... where I’d be without you.” His eyes fluttered, too exhausted to focus. “You've done so much... driven me to be so much better. To do what for years I hadn’t strength to do. Valarian...” His hands traced along his lover’s face. “Thank you for staying beside me."

Valarian continued to hold him, bringing a hand up to his face to meet Alex’s. He laughed sweetly.

“I told you when you found me, Alex, after I ran, after I hid, after I made it so very difficult for you...”

He pressed a kiss against the prince’s hand.

“I’m never leaving your side again.”

[skzsauce01]

42nd Moon Pt 3

Description: By some stroke of luck, you get off the waitlist of your biology class. You’d never have guessed you’d find your soulmate there, let alone that he already has a girlfriend... Or that he comes from a fraternity of werewolves.

Warning: none

Word count: 3k

Pairing: werewolf!Jisung x fem!reader,  werewolf!Hyunjin x fem!reader

A/N: Extra long chapter with lots of fluff! Stay inside while reading please!

Chapter List

Despite your every effort to give up on Hyunjin, it still hurts to see him and Jiyoung on the couch, noses touching and legs entangled.

You clutch the strap of your bag even tighter and will your feet to walk past the fraternity’s common room. You are here with a mission, and Hyunjin is not part of any of it.

At last, you make your way around the maze that is the Mu Alpha Theta house and find the door leading to your destination. You raise your fist and knock twice.

A whimper comes from the other side, so you ease the door open. Inside, you find a silver wolf lying limply on the rug.

“Goodness, Jisung!” you exclaim, running to his side. “Have you even eaten?”

He lets out another sad noise and moves only to rest his overheating muzzle on your lap.

You give him a few pats before pulling out a thermos from your bag. You open it and scoop out some of its contents with a spoon. 

“Open,” you tell him.

He does so wearily and you turn the spoon over on his tongue. Jisung mulls over the food for a few seconds before his eyes light up at the taste. He sits up, wraps his teeth over the container, and tilts it back in successions to consume its contents. When he finishes, he hands you back your container and boops your arm with his nose as thanks before collapsing back onto the ground.

You laugh at his pup-ish antics and lean over to scratch his ears. That is when you hear it.

“Hyunjin-ah,” a feminine voice from outside giggles.

“Shh,” comes an equally cheery male voice. “You’re gonna wake up Jisung.”

“Whatever,” she titters. “I love you~” 

“I love you too, Sweetcakes.”

Jisung feels your hand grow tense, and he lets out a whimper of concern.

His noise pulls your thoughts back to the current situation. “Ah sorry. It seems like getting over your soulmate’s a little harder than anticipated, but I’ll be fine,” you reassure him.

Jisung grunts, unconvinced.

“Hyunjin, stop it~”

You freeze up again. You can hear your increasing heart rate pounding in your head

“You really want me to?”

Giggles.

Jisung growls and gets on all fours, prepared to head towards the door to confront his fraternity brother.

“No wait, Jisung stop,” you beg, standing between him and the door. “It’s not our business to interfere. I’ve already made my decision, so there isn’t any reason why you need to go out there.”

He narrows his eyes at you and circles you a few times, ultimately forcing you back to the center of his room. 

“Ji-”

You yelp in surprise as he gives your ankle a small nip, causing you to trip backwards. Instead of meeting the hard ground, you land in a pile of silver fur as Jisung nuzzles up next to you, trying to comfort your aching heart.

When you finally realize what he is attempting, you smile to yourself and bring a hand up to continue petting him. Jisung lets out a low noise of content. You let his deep breathing drown out the commotion outside, and before long, it has lulled you to sleep. 

“Hi Y/N, Hyunjin,” Jisung greets as he forcibly wedges himself between the two of you and the conversation you were having. “Did you wait long?”

“No,” you answer, letting him take your bag from you. “We’re also waiting for Jiyoung anyway.”

“Her club meeting ended at 10:30. She’ll be here soon,” Hyunjin informs you two. 

“Just don’t forget the rule,” Jisung says mockingly to his friend.

Hyunjin grunts and gives the shorter male a shove.

You turn to look at the entrance of Jolly Land expectantly. The two boys each won a pair of tickets to the amusement park in a school event and decided to invite you and Jiyoung. Just then, the other girl comes running and waving at the three of you.

“Hi!” she greets cheerily. “Sorry for the wait!”

Jisung steps in front of your view as she kisses Hyunjin on the cheek. "So to the park then?"

"Yeah!" Jiyoung chirps, taking Hyunjin by the arm and leading him to the front gates. 

"Ew," Jisung comments jokingly. 

You shrug. "It's kind of cute though."

Jisung turns his head to the side to look at you.  You yourself have your eyes trained on the couple. 

"Do you, um." Jisung cuts himself off. "N-nevermind."

You blink at him, curious. "What?"

“Nevermind!” he insists with scarlett cheeks.

You don’t think much of his words and go after your other friends. Once inside, a mascot greets the two of you.

“Hello there! I’m Jolly Quokka. Welcome to Jolly Land!”

“Aha thanks,” Jisung says awkwardly. 

You, on the other hand, is staring starry-eyed at the giant quokka in front of you.

“Let’s take a picture together to commemorate your date!” it suggests.

“Oh, we’re not--”

“You two are so cute! You know, couples get free matching Quokka headbands! So, how long have you two been together?”

“It’s our first date!” you announce, grabbing Jisung’s hand.

The male looks at you with incredulous eyes. He can feel heat spreading across his face and to his ears.

“Adorable!” coos Jolly Quokka. “Then we most definitely have to take a picture!”

After taking the photo and Jisung being scammed into buying one, the two of you are freed to enjoy your day.

“Sorry for doing that,” you apologize once you are away from Jolly. You let go of Jisung’s hand, leaving him feeling dreadfully cold.

“I-it’s fine.” He clears his throat. “You really like Jolly Quokka don’t you?”

You bring a hand up to touch your new head band. “Yeah… it’s really cute, don’t you think?”

You’re cuter. He clears his throat again. “Well um… I guess these mark us as a couple for the rest of the day, then.”

You frown. “Does it bother you? I just wanted the headband. We can take them off for the day if you want.”

“I-it’s fine. We can keep them on. W-why don’t we, um…” He huffs a sigh, still unable to finish what he was suggesting earlier

“Pretend to be a couple for the day?” you finish for him.

“Y-yeah! I mean, there’s so many couples everywhere; I feel left out!” he blabbers before letting out a sigh and hanging his head. “Nevermind,” he says again. “It’s a stupid idea.”

"No, it's not it's not stupid. Jolly Quokka said there’s a lot of couple events today, so this could be a good opportunity to check them out. That is, only if you don’t mind either." 

Oh, Jisung would be delighted. "I d-don't mind." He clears his throat and looks down at your hand. He swallows a lump in and reclaims it.

You intertwine your digit with his, and Jisung almost pees his pants.

Three rides and a bag of cotton candy later, Jisung is still swinging your hands between you two. His steps are light, clearly enjoying himself.

“What next?” he asks. 

A voice over the speakers booms before you can answer. “Step on up, couples of Jolly Land!” 

You turn towards the noise and see an event happening on a nearby stage. “Best Couple of Jolly Land Competition” the banner reads. 

“How about that?” you point. “They say first prize gets an XL Jolly Quokka stuffed animal!”

Jisung’s stomach does a gymnastics routine upon reading some of the events on the banner, but seeing the excitement in your eyes, he is not about to say no to you. “S-sure.”

You frown at his hesitance. “Do you not want to? I understand since I’m not your real--”

“It’s fine!” Jisung cuts you off loudly. “I want to do it. I really, really want to!” He drags you onto stage, snarling every time you suggest that your participations are not in his best interest.

The two of you compete against other couples in various games like trust fall and three-legged race. You are doing pretty well and only one more game awaits.

“And the last game is a game I’m sure you all are familiar with,” announces the MC before whipping out a snack from his coat. “The pepero game!”

The rules are simple: the pair with the shortest cookie left wins but they are not allowed to touch lips. To ensure the last part, one partner is given blue lipstick and the other is given red. Any of your color on your partner’s face results in disqualification. 

Jisung feels his hands growing clammy as he watches you rip open the package. Your faces are going to be just millimeters apart! Jisung wants to faint, but at the same time, he would give up his tail just to have this opportunity. Goodness, he really wants to kiss you. How can he not when you’re so innocently lifting up the chocolate stick to his mouth with your own? 

“Ready?” calls the MC. “Go, Peppero!”

The fifteen seconds allotted for this game is not enough for Jisung to overcome his internal conflict. All he can think about is making purple with you, but he knows how much you want to win this game, and he isn’t sure you would appreciate the action. Somehow, for reasons beknownst to Jisung, a sly hand manages to slide on its own onto the small of your back, flushing you against him as he tilts his head 30° to the right, leaning closer, and closer, and--

“--and time!” calls the MC.

You bite off your end of the stick and step back from Jisung, smiling in content at your progress.

The MC reads off the lengths of some other couples’ peperos until he gets to yours. “1.8 cm!” he exclaims. “That puts you two in first place for this round, and with your scores from the other games, you two are the best couple of Jolly Land!”

“We did it!” you burst with glee. 

The MC guides you two to the center of the stage to celebrate your win. Jisung spots some guys with their girlfriends’ color on their faces and pouts. Who’s the real winner here? Not him, apparently.

“So congratulations!” the MC says again. “How are you feeling?”

“Great,” you respond, hugging your new plushy against your chest. “I really like Jolly Quokka; it’s so cute.”

“You know, Jolly Quokka’s cheeks make it look kind of like your boyfriend, don’t they?” he jokes.

“Yeah,” you agree, pinching Jolly’s cotton face. “He’s cute too.”

Jisung immediately snaps out of his sulking and looks at you with round eyes in disbelief of what he had just heard. How many times are you going to make his heart jolt like this today?

The MC laughs and comments about how adorable the two of you are. “And what do you think about your girlfriend?” he asks Jisung.

“She’s cute of course,” he answers easily. “And pretty and funny and smart.” He bore his eyes into yours as he speaks, hoping you’d feel his sincerity.

After another handful of rides, night falls and the two of you are standing behind some metal railings, waiting for the parade. 

“Look! There it is!” you exclaim, squishing Jolly as you lean against the railing for a better look.

Jisung follows your finger to see a couple of people in quokka costumes twirling batons.

“The MC earlier was right,” you chuckle. “Maybe you should join the parade; you look just like a quokka.”

He swings one of his arms behind you, grabbing the railing from the other side and leans towards your ear. “But that makes me ‘cute,’ right?” he teases.

You blush, realizing how your words sound. “Please forget I said that.”

“Why? I like it; it’s flattering.”

“It’s embarrassing!”

“It’s cute. Like me.”

“Oh, shut up.”

He laughs and you turn your attention back to the parade. Despite the amount of people, the night time wind is slowly slipping under your skin. You clutch Jolly a little closer to yourself to block some of it, but still, you can’t help but shiver. 

Almost as soon as you start shaking, you feel a weight on your shoulder as Jisung places his jacket around you.

“You’ll get cold!” you protest, trying to give his sweater back.

He blatantly refuses it. “All the boyfriends give their girlfriends their jackets; it’s in the movies.”

“But they don’t show the boyfriend catching a cold afterwards, which is what you’re going to get.”

“It’s okay cause you’d take care of me, right?” he rebuttals cheekily. “And you’ll make that stew like you did last time?”

“I can make you stew without you getting sick.”

“Really?” he laughs, rearranging the garment on your shoulders, “I’m holding you to it then.”

“You better not get sick,” you pout.

Ah, your pout is so adorable, Jisung can’t help but stare at it. He keeps staring even as another part of the parade passes by, making your lips part in animation at the colorful lights. Jisung is not interested in the decorated carts or drum-playing children. To be honest, he has only been able to concentrate on one thing ever since that pepero game. 

The urge is so strong, and your lips are so plump, so red, so inviting.

“Y/N…” he begins, his voice barely a raspy whisper. “C-can I… can I--”

He realizes then that you aren’t hearing his words. He looks to your eyes and finds that they aren’t even on the parade anymore. He looks up and immediately finds what has stolen your attention.

On the other side of the parade is Hyunjin and Jiyoung, doing the very thing Jisung has spent all afternoon trying to accomplish. 

Jisung frowns upon seeing you frowning. A little lower, and he sees your soul mark tattoo every time you lift your hand to pet Jolly anxiously. Why do you have to be Hyunjin’s soulmate? Why can’t you just be any other girl in his bio class? Why can’t you-- he looks at his own barren wrist-- be his soulmate?

“Come on,” he snaps, pulling at your hand.

You jolt out of your staring. “Where are we going?”

“Home,” he announces. “I’m tired. Let’s go.”

You follow him through the crowd wordlessly until you’re both out of the mob. “I’m sorry,” you say in a small whisper.

Jisung turns to you. “Why are you sorry?”

“I was staring at Hyunjin on what is supposed to be our date. Isn’t that why you’re mad?”

“No, I’m not mad, I’m just--” he runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Okay, I am mad, but not at you. I’m just irritated at the whole stupid soulmate thing! Like if it’s going to make you love someone, then shouldn’t it also let you be with them? Then if you were happily together, maybe I wouldn’t have-- Uhg, no, I’m just being selfish right now. This is all just, just so messed up. Emotionally binding you to someone you can’t be with, it’s just so messed up.”

“Jisung…” you begin, although you are unsure where to do so. “It’s okay; I’m okay, unless… there’s something more?” You look at his wrists. You have noticed that everyone in the frat but him has a soulmark. You aren’t sure it’s something he’s comfortable talking about, but you’ve also noticed him staring at yours a lot, and that it’s bothering him.

He freezes at your suggestion. You take in a long breath to gather your courage before grabbing his wrists and stroking them gently. You cock your head to the side, questioningly. Jisung bites his lips and looks to the ground.

“You’re right. There’s something more,” he confesses.

You lower his hands. “You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine,” he says, still not looking at you. “She, um, she’s dead. It happened when I was fifteen. It was the worst day of my life; it felt like the sun stopped shining and I was nothing but a hollow husk. My wrist burned for days and days as the mark peeled off until it was all gone.”

“I’m sorry,” you say pathetically.

“It’s okay. I got used to the feeling. And recently--” he manages a small smile-- “I’ve found something that’s been filling that void.”

“Really? What?”

“That I want to keep secret, my dear Y/N.” With a sigh, he turns around and continues walking. “Sorry to dump that sob story on you.”

“It’s alright. I’m glad you were able to talk about it.”

He smiles weakly again. Only with you, he thinks to himself. “It does feel nice to get it off my chest sometimes. Come on, let’s go” 

He makes a right, the opposite direction to the subway. “Ready to go home?”

“The train is that way,” you tell him.

He smirks and lets out a howl into the night air. Before you know it, you’re dashing through town on top of your personal wolf. Jisung lets the cold air on his face clear his head and the sound of your adrenaline-filled squeals bring music to his ears. 

“Did you have fun today?” he asks once you’ve arrived at your apartment.

“Yes, thank you. And thanks for being my boyfriend for the day; it made me feel less bad to see all those other couples at the park,” you joke.

He laughs lightly with you.

“And Jisung?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t worry about soulmates. There’s another soul out there waiting for you.”

Jisung smiles bittersweetly at you. He takes a couple steps closer and kisses your forehead. “Good night, Y/N.”

You watch his retreating form disappear into the night with your hand clasped over the spot he kissed. If today was any indication, whoever that soul is that’s waiting for him, you think to yourself, is very lucky.

~ ad.gold

#han jisung #werewolf!jisung #hyunjin #werewolf!hyunjin #soulmates #stray kids #skz #42nd moon #quokkas #04032020

[powerovernothing]

(The artwork included in this tale belongs to the amazing artist by the name of @evisen​! Thank you ever so much for taking the time to capture the scene absolutely perfectly~)

The fading warmth of an evening sun cascaded across lush emerald hilltops nestled beside the outskirts of the city of Cheydinhal. Night was fast approaching and would soon come to blanket the quiet streets with an all too familiar darkness, and although it beckons him to venture into the depths of abandoned homes, and hollow wells… he ultimately decides to remain hidden.

Resting upon his back from within shadow kissed branches of the oak he had so masterfully stolen away for himself only prior, he lies in wait. As the golden hues, and rich sanguine gradually shifts into colors of twilight, and the cooling breeze brushes over leaves and tickles his skin, he chuckles under his breath with a secret smile.

The plan was proceeding almost as perfectly as he had hoped it would, and the glorious moment he had been dreaming of was within his grasp at last. Perhaps just out of reach, just enough that he could only brush his fingertips against it, but not for very much longer.

For he knew the dedication he had spent in preparation was about to pay off in a matter most grand. And from it he could nearly taste victory upon his lips as the seconds passed by, and a wave of intense glee coursed through him at the oh-so wonderful thought. All that remained was simply watching for the moment in which his mark would fall into their proper place, and he would finally have his rightful due.

It was only a matter of time, and although he was so much more than eager... what was truly just a few moments more? After all, he had studied his target’s movements for several days, and knew their schedule inside and out.

He knew they would rise early, long before the other members of their family; and, upon waking, spend at least two full hours gathering the appropriate equipment, and tools needed for their profession, make their way out of their home via a backdoor – his mark was paranoid, so very paranoid, and it made what he had in store all the sweeter – avoiding any and all that passed them by on the path connected with the eastern gate, and proceed towards the Nibenay Basin.

Only then would they carry out one of the following depending on the hour, as well as the day: either disappear into the secluded wilderness to partake in a ritualistic hunting session to appease the deity they so fiercely worshiped, or bypass the hunt altogether, and merely take shelter within the lair they had devised for themselves and did, Sithis only knew what, until nightfall.

Where they would then leave the confines of their makeshift hideaway, return home, and begin the cycle anew with the coming of the dawn.

Thankfully, or perhaps not so thankfully for his target’s dwindling wellbeing, the dates of the calendar seemed to align on one of the latter days. Meaning there would be no grueling hunt taking countless hours, or a careful disappearance into the depths of the forests, only to return days later, bruised, bloodied, and with gruesome evidence of a fresh kill.

Instead, they would depart their so-called fortress, embark on their short journey back into the protective walls of the city, and cross underneath where he waited not so patiently for his moment of glory.

Of when he would lash out, take them by surprise, and have one of his deepest desires finally be achieved.

It was flawless, foolproof, and absolutely brilliant! Nothing could dare to go wrong, or think to sour the wonderfully sadistic image that danced in his mind as he counted the rays of sunlight peeking through the leaves from where he laid upon the bark, and yet...

The longer he lingered within his clever perch; arms folded comfortably underneath his head, and the longer he watched out of the corner of his eye as the sun dipped beneath the distance mountains, and night slowly took its place in the sky above... the more he came to realize that he was very much a lone hunter without the presence of his chosen prey.

Where in all the infinite shadows of the Void itself was his expected target?

By his perfectly flawless calculations, they should have already been on the curving path leading back to the city by now. The exact same pathway that would lead them beneath numerous trees much like the one he hid himself in.

He planned for this; he knew they would pass this way – they always did – but to his keen gaze they were seemingly nowhere to be found.

The sounds he was certain to hear upon the wind – distinct rustling of bushes as a darkly dressed stranger navigated through them to make his presence less obvious to any that may have been watching, a muffled groaning as they breathed in the cool air for the first time in hours, followed by a stretch to release tension in their back after spending a full evening hunched over a dreadfully uncomfortable desk, before running a tired hand through barely maintained grey streaked hair – only brought forth bitter silence to his ears, and his delighted smile in regard to his impish intentions is soon replaced with a wave of dread.

What could have suddenly changed, and caused a vast difference from the set schedule he thought he knew so well? What could he have overlooked in all his careful planning? Could it have been that he greatly underestimated the intelligence his mark possessed then he first assumed? Or missed a step somewhere, or overstepped, and been found out before he could put his plan into motion?

And if that was surely the case, were they now already on an entirely different portion of Cyrodiil altogether? And he was simply wasting precious seconds alone, waiting in a damn oak tree, when he could have already been acting, scouting, trying so very desperately to grasp onto the fragile remains of an already rapidly crumbling –

No, no, no, wait – there.

And just when he was prepared to admit defeat to a far superior adversary that had, by some means, managed to outsmart him, and choose to abandon his treetop vigil for another attempt on another day, does he witness a fairly recognizable shadow skulking out of the main gate of the ruined fortress.

His brows furrow in confusion at the peculiar, and strangely out of character sight. He had expected them to venture out via the trapdoor – quite similar to the back entrance of their own home – just as they always had come the ending of their days spent within their hideaway, and yet there they were… apparently going entirely off script.

But no matter how bewildering it was to his eyes, no matter how much he questioned the reasoning behind this change, and his mark’s newly formed motives, he knew that could still easily make do with an all too irrelevant shift.

As it meant that it was not nearly as hopeless as his overly frantic mind first thought it to be. There was no hasty escape to relocate to a remote corner of the province, or even some well-crafted and entirely unforgivable counterattack about to befall him when he least expected it.

It was a slight delay, and nothing more.

Now his target was here at last; blissfully unaware of their impending fate, and he could feel his excitement overtaking him once again.

Slowly rolling onto his stomach – ever careful not to creak over the wood, or shake loose the leaves, and give away his location prematurely – he watches as they walk with their arms neatly tucked within the long sleeves of their robing, and he forces himself not to cackle with sheer glee when he sees them slowing their pace, before leaning back against the trunk of the tree.

Leaving themselves wide open for the perfect ambush.

‘The fool, the absolute fool!’ He thinks excitedly to himself. ‘They just sealed their fate! They just dropped themselves into my lap for my greedy, eager little hands to take advantage of! Topped with a soon-to-be bloodstained bow! And that means... that means it’s actually going to work this time! I’m actually going to win! At long last!’

With a barely contained giggle, he shifts his body until he is able to secure his legs around the length of the branch, and then swiftly drops upon his ill-fated, unsuspecting target with a sudden fierce scream.

"Oh, you thought you were being so clever, didn’t you?" Korbin happily cries out with an upside-down grin spread over his lips. Swinging forward with legs bent, he tightly grips his now trapped target's robing to hold them in place while openly taunting them over their failure.

"You actually thought your surprise delay would somehow save you from my wrath! And yet, in the end, it was all for nothing! For it did not matter how brilliant you thought you were being with your actions, as I finally have you exactly where I want you, and there is no possible hope of escaping me now!"

Lucien chuckles warmly as he listens to Korbin ramble on about his triumph in a single excited breath, and he reaches to clasp his hands over Korbin's forearms in the hopes of balancing him as he sways back and forth. When Korbin finishes speaking and is left panting – still with the same overjoyed, infectious grin – Lucien cannot help but mimic it with a shadow of a smile of his own.

"Why yes, it does seem as though you do indeed have me precisely where you want me," He tells him as he frees one of his hands to place it upon Korbin's face with a gentle pat. "Quite a remarkable display of skill, I must say; very well done."

Korbin swings back, pulling himself from Lucien's grip, and his grin grows wider as he claps his hands together in response to the candid praise.

"Ah, thank you, Lachance!" He says with a bright twinkle in his eye. Turning his gaze and watching as Lucien dips underneath his arms – circling where he dandles from the tree – his voice shifts from pleased excitement to a more composed murmur.

"But while I so dearly cherish your admiration of my skills..." He starts to say, trailing slightly as he watches Lucien go around his body several times in a row and feels his head beginning to spin. Refocusing his vision, he then points to Lucien as he returns to the front of the trunk after the third loop. "Do you not realize why I am so happy with the outcome of this? Even more so than I am usually?"

Lucien leans back and folds his arms over his chest. "Because you are easily amused by childish games?"

"No!" Korbin shouts almost instantly; a pout taking the place of his grin as he adverts his gaze and reaches to scratch his beard. "Well, I mean, all right... yes, I am easily amused, but!"

He turns his head, and then swings himself forward once more; jabbing a finger into Lucien's chest with every spoken word. "But... that... isn't the reason... I’m happy... right now, thank you very much!" He pulls his hand back. "Because you see, the reason why I am so damn delighted about this is because of what my hard-earned victory actually means!"

"And what is it that it means, exactly?"

"It means that I did it, brother! I was finally able to get one up on you!" Korbin exclaims with an upside-down pump of his fist. "And not only that, but I was also able to strike from the deepest of shadows! Without you ever knowing I was there in the first place!"

"So, I see..." Lucien mutters to himself as he unfolds his hands, and presses against Korbin's chest to push him. "Well, I suppose if you wish to see this joyful excursion of yours as finally earning your long-sought victory... then by all means, do not let me stop you in your celebrating."

Korbin sways from side to side, raising his hands over his head in an effort to maintain his balance. Feeling the grip that his legs have around the tree branch beginning to give way the longer he remains in place, and the longer he endures Lucien's shoving, circling, and whatever else he surely had planned.

But even from where he lingers – and starts to slip – he is able to make out the faintest of smirks twitching over the corner of Lucien’s lips, and his eyes narrow in suspicion.

"...What do you mean 'if I wished to see it as a victory?'" Korbin questions; paraphrasing slightly and jerking his legs to move closer to his brother's face. "And what’s with the smirk? I may be upside down, but I can still see clearly enough to know that is the very same smirk I positively hate you wearing! It never means anything good; and likely means you're plotting something horrible!"

Lucien's smirk widens as he moves Korbin back by touching a finger to his forehead with one hand – rewarding him with a groan of annoyance from him as he does – and waves dismissively with the other.

"Now, now, my beloved Silencer," He chides in a near sing-song tone of voice. "I do believe that you have stayed dandling from this tree for far too long, and the blood has rushed to your head, and muddied your thoughts. As you are seeing threats where there are surely none to be found."

Korbin frantically waves his arms. "No, no! See, now you're doing the other thing I hate!" He puffs out his cheeks in irritation, and then points to Lucien a second time. "You're trying to distract me with your words! And you're using that tone of voice as you speak them! The tone you only use when want to protect my pride after I did something foolish! Despite me assuming it would be fool-proof, and it wasn't, and now you’re lying to soften the harsh blow of reality, and..."

"And?" Lucien prompts when Korbin trails off; moving the palm of his hand in a half circle and signaling for him to continue. "Why brother, do not leave me hanging in the air as you currently are. Grant me the right to hear your finished thought, unless" – He looks up, and his smirk is so mischievous that it makes Korbin retch – "you are mere moments away from losing consciousness, and I should do my best to catch you?"

However, Korbin says nothing in response to Lucien’s characteristic dry wit and surrenders himself to his own thoughts as he recalls the events that led him to this moment.

The sudden delay that went against Lucien’s set schedule Korbin thought he knew so thoroughly, and how it made him question whether he was away on some sort of assignment outside of Cheydinhal and had missed his chance.

How, when Lucien did appear amid his frantic worrying, he chose to exit from the main gate of Fort Farragut, and not use the hatch hidden in the hollowed-out trunk further in the forest, just as he had done so many times before.

And then, instead of using the natural shadows of the hillside, Lucien walked upon the path leading directly to the tree that he was waiting within, and so casually leaned back against the trunk without any reason to do so, and began counting down on his fingers, and –

Korbin clutches the sides of his head, and howls in rage as the truth becomes all too brutally clear. "You manipulative little bastard!" He cries out as though he is in genuine pain. "Are you trying to tell me that you knew where I was all along?! That you knew from the very beginning of all of this?!"

He clutches his hands into white knuckled fists. "This is the reason why you smirked, isn't it?!" He spits his accusation; summoning forth a great deal of self-restraint to keep himself from strangling Lucien for daring to play with his emotions in such a way. "And why you didn't stop me in my celebrating when I already thought I won! Because you were waiting for the moment where I realized my success was nothing more than an illusion!"

"Ah yes, perhaps that is all indeed the truth, Korbin," Lucien says smoothly; his back against the trunk as speaks. "And perhaps it is the reason behind my every action throughout this evening: the sudden shift in my voice, and the sight of my unnerving smirk, and so much more that you have plainly stated in the fervent heat of your own anger..."

A dark chuckle then slips from his lips, and he moves to grab a fistful of Korbin's armor; pulling him close enough to whisper into his ear. "Or, perhaps, just as I said, you have simply been within that tree far too long, and I should rectify such a foolish decision immediately."

Korbin opens his mouth to speak – to properly question Lucien's obvious ulterior motives, and make sense of the secret meaning behind his words – but before he has a chance to do as much, he feels his brother's grip tighten considerably, while his other hand slowly comes to curve around his shoulders... and then all at once, Lucien roughly yanks him from his tree branch perch, and sends him crashing to the ground below.

A scream is ripped from Korbin’s throat as he collides into the dirt, and a sudden heat rushes to his cheeks with equal amount of embarrassment and frustration, as the sound of Lucien's satisfied laughter rings in his ears. Raising his head, he mutters certain choice swears under his breath – all the while spitting the gravel that had made its way into his mouth – and glares angrily.

"Dammit, Lachance!" He shouts; attempting to force himself upright so he might accuse Lucien of his truly terrible behavior more easily. "Why must you be so terribly unfair to your poor innocent Silencer time and time again!?"

However, despite his valiant efforts, Korbin ultimately ends up stumbling back onto the ground with a light thud after a single pushup. And from such a display – coupled with the blush over his cheeks, and the furious look in his eyes – Lucien's laughter greatly amplifies, and Korbin becomes increasingly more flustered as a result.

"You see?! This is exactly what I mean!" He rests his arms under his chin to serve as a makeshift prop with a hardened scowl. "First, you choose to make my task next to impossible, as you outright despise seeing me succeed in any possible way, then you stand there and mercilessly taunt me when my plans end in heartbreaking failure! And yet, somehow, even that is not enough for you! Because you go one step further in your twisted games and toss me to the ground just to rub salt in my open wounds!"

Korbin unfolds his arms – ignoring how his chin falls and kicks up dirt into the air in the instant he does so – and waves them about as he wails on. "Which makes all of this utterly unfair, I say! Unfair, cruel, vicious, and any other word that comes to mind to describe what you are doing!"

Lucien runs a careful hand over the corner of his eyes where tears of amusement gather as Korbin reaches a new personal record in the sacred art of melodrama.

"...Yes, yes, I am indeed a terrible human being," He muses with a smile; speaking with a slight gasp to his words as his laughter at his brother’s expense slowly subsides into lighter chuckling. "In any case, is my 'poor, innocent' Silencer quite finished with all his needless rambling?"

"No, he most certainly is not!" Korbin all but shrieks; twisting his body and sitting crossed legged in front of Lucien instead of face down at his feet. "There is much more that I have to say, I will have you know"–He holds out his hand, counting on his fingers as Lucien shakes his head–"As I haven't reached the point where I accuse you of being an awful sibling for cruelly mocking me, or where I demand an answer as to why you didn't just be honest about knowing where I was hiding all along; thus sparing me from the countless embarrassment that I am feeling now!"

Lucien raises a curious eyebrow in response; his faint smile transforming into a knowing smirk, and Korbin rests his cheek against his knuckles with a heavy sigh. "...And I just answered my own damn question, didn't I?"

"I do believe you have," Lucien replies, pulling away from where had been leaning, and gestures theatrically with his arms spread wide. "After all, if I had thought to be so straightforward, I would have denied myself the pleasure of witnessing you in the childish state you are in now."

He turns his head and places a palm against his forehead; unable to resist the urge to mock his brother anew for the way he is behaving. "And to miss out on such a remarkable sight, why... it is enough to shatter my Assassin’s heart into countless pieces from the mere thought of such an unfathomable tragedy!"

Korbin’s expression darkens as he watches Lucien intentionally act utterly ridiculous, and positively loathes just how quickly his anger rises the longer he suffers his brother’s horrendous imitation of his beloved flair for all things dramatic, and over the top.

"...Were you listening when I said there was a part in my rant where I accuse you of being awful for daring to mock me in my most humiliating moment?"

Lucien turns back to address Korbin in a more natural tone. "But of course," He says, as he slowly closes the distance between them. "I heeded your every word with rapt attention... although I am quite certain you said nothing about this being your most humiliating."

"Well, it is! Even if I did or did not say it!" Korbin quickly corrects; pointing a finger in emphasis. "And that hour of accusation? It is now! Right now! Right in this very moment! And when I take back every breath I have wasted in all my arguments, then I will gladly proceed into the many, many different ways that you are, without a doubt—"

Korbin feels a sudden weight come to press down over his head and temporarily obstruct his eyesight underneath his messy bangs. Effectively stealing his words before he has a chance to state even a single reason why Lucien is indeed being one of the very worst possible siblings in all of Nirn itself with all his teasing – the very same teasing causing his, already blurry, vision to cloud over with a thick red haze – and how Martin would never even consider acting in such a way!

With a low grumble in regards to one thing, or perhaps many at this point, Korbin jerks his head upright to lock golden eyes with brown, and then comes to realize that the weight he feels is actually Lucien’s hand as he runs his fingers through his hair in a strange show of gentle affection.

"Are you aware there is actual reasoning behind why I often seek to make your efforts to take me by surprise nearly impossible to achieve?"

"...You mean outside of the twisted joy you feel from my constant suffering?" Korbin questions with a frown as he struggles to pry Lucien's hand from his hair.

Lucien scoffs in response at first; his grip remaining firm within the messy grey locks nestled upon his brother’s head as Korbin wiggles underneath the extended touch.

"Yes, a reason outside of that," He tells him as he steps back – granting Korbin and his hair the freedom they so desired in the process. "You see, I do all of this as I only wish to remind you of what it is you have so clearly forgotten in your profound delusion of accomplishing your – at this point – futile little goal."

Korbin blinks in genuine confusion. "Wait...what are you...? What are you talking about?" He asks with the slightest stutter, as he smooths down the awkward strands of hair gained by Lucien's tousling. "Other than the offensive jab at my fragile hopes and dreams... I don’t quite understand. What do you believe I have forgotten?"

"That it is I, alone, who holds the responsibility of teaching you the very same skill set you think to use against me time and again," He proclaims; circling around Korbin as he explains, and the younger of the two Assassins chokes back an oncoming wave of nausea as he mistakenly follows him with his eyes. "Your tactics were once my own. Your experience in the art of stealth? Refined from my present mastery of the craft. Meaning that I surely know your actions long before you, yourself, even begin to formulate them."

With a shake of his head, Korbin brings his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose in a means of composing himself with an uncomfortable groan; deliberately ignoring the devious chuckle that escapes under Lucien’s breath as he does so.

"And from your grievous oversight – now brought kicking and screaming into the light – you should realize one thing, and one thing only... that no matter how many times you attempt this task in vain, no matter how often you revise your plans in the hope of some alternate outcome, and – most importantly – no matter what comforting shadow, or shaded tree you shelter yourself within to await your chance" –Lucien continues on without pause to neither his movements, or his words; slamming his hand down upon an open fist as he finally reaches his point –"The truth of the matter is that, unless I personally deem it otherwise, I shall always have the advantage over you in the end."

Lowering his hand from his face, Korbin stiffens considerably; deeply offended by Lucien's incessant lecturing. "Now, wait just a moment there, Lachance! I don’t think that’s–!" He cries out in the fervent tone commonly preceding another equally as passionate ranting session, as he rocks in place and pulls himself from where he had been sitting.

But in the moment that he lifts partway from the ground, the very same hand comes down upon one of his shoulders and prevents him from rising completely.

Lucien pauses at Korbin's side, and bends with his freehand intentionally hidden from view. "However, if you refuse to believe the words that I speak," He whispers carefully into his ear, and Korbin braces himself for whatever horrific misfortune he is about to endure. "Then allow me the honor of providing you an appropriate demonstration."

When he finishes speaking, he then pulls away from Korbin's shoulder, and quickly snaps the fingers behind his back. Deftly triggering the use of his Greater Power and vanishing from Korbin's line of sight in the blink of an eye.

Korbin staggers back with a cry as he witnesses Lucien stand beside him one moment, and then disappear seemingly into thin air the very next.

"Lu-Lucien?" He stammers as confusion and unease overtake his tone at the use of a familiar – and yet unfamiliar all the same – source of Magicka. "What are you...? Where did you... go?"

Slowly scrambling to his feet, Korbin walks along the base of the oak; scanning as best he is able for any trace of Lucien's sudden invisible presence with heightened desperation.

"If... if this is what you meant by demonstration, then you should know that I am… that I am not very amused!" He shouts to his surroundings, utterly blind to the shimmering figure lingering directly in his shadow. "Because at least when I was hiding, I actually thought to use the environment around me, and didn't just cheat my way to victory with the help of some fancy little spell! Which obviously means that I’ve won, as you went against the rules by using magic!"

Shifting his weight, he leans partially against the bark, and unknowingly leaves himself open. "So, why don't you go ahead and de-cloak yourself from wherever you’re skulking about from, and let me prove to you, once and for all, that my abilities most certainly–"

Korbin’s words die in his throat, rendering the remainder of his playful taunting incomplete as some unknown force suddenly captures his arm in a death grip behind his back, and a flash of green mist envelops in the edge of his vision.

Feeling as though he is caught in a sudden loop of repeating events, he turns to glance over his shoulder – somehow hoping to make sense of what is happening – and is met with a stern gaze as Lucien reappears from what Korbin could only assume to be the very depths of the Void itself.

"...As you were saying, my Silencer?"

Korbin opens his mouth to explain that he was only joking, but that, too, goes unheard as Lucien spins him on his heel, and roughly shoves him back with an open palm to his chest in a single fluid motion.

Far too quickly for Korbin's mind to even begin to process how long Lucien must have been listening to him in silence, when he chose to make himself known by grasping his arm, and why exactly – for the love of the Dread Father himself – he allowed himself to be overtaken and tossed helplessly to the ground for the second time.

In the instant awareness returns to him, thankfully just before he crashes face first, he throws his hands out to prevent himself from crumpling in a miserable amalgamation of pained limbs and flushed cheeks... yet is not nearly fast enough to spare himself from the sound of Lucien’s arrogant laughter.

"Oh, you foolish boy," Lucien murmurs between amused breaths. The words being spoken less as an insult, and more as a term of endearment. "Now, do you see my meaning? I have just single-handedly proven that—"

"—That your abilities certainly outshine my own?" Korbin interrupts with a deep grumble; cutting Lucien off and saying what he had intended to use at his brother's expense to spite himself before Lucien could in his place. "That I was being too overzealous with all my taunting, and deserved your sneak attack, perhaps? Or that what you said of my desires being so impossible was very much the truth, and I should have learned to listen long before I ended up face down once again?"

Turning his cheek, he sighs and looks away. "...Feel free to tell me when I'm getting close."

"And indeed, I gladly would... were it not for the fact that you aren't close. Not even remotely," Lucien says with a shake of his head; coming to stand at his side. "And while you carry some manner of truth with your suggestions, and I could very easily ridicule you just as playfully as I had throughout our time together, that was surely not my intention..."

His voice trails, and he lowers himself into a more causal sitting position. "For in reality, all I wished to say was simply how obvious it had become that you still have so much left to learn from me, and nothing more. Which, you would have realized, had you only thought to let me finish before choosing to interrupt."

"W-Wait... really?" Korbin stammers; unable to mask the genuine surprise in his voice as he turns his head and glances up at Lucien. "That's it? No hidden tricks, or clever spells? No playful teases, or sudden attacks when I least expect it? You're just going to half compliment me, and half insult me with the very same breath?"

"All whilst I sit beside you and catch said breath; yes."

Korbin runs a hand over his chin in thought. "Well, if that really is the case, then... do you want to know what I personally think about this, brother?"

"Oh, do enlighten me." Lucien prompts with a tired chuckle.

"And thus, I shall! And rather happily!" Korbin exclaims as he pushes himself up from where he laid upon his stomach and presses a finger into Lucien's cheek. "As I will have you know that after everything that happened between us: my failed sneak attack, your successful one, the teasing, the roughhousing, your joy, my embarrassment, as well as everything else I am possibly forgetting, I have come to the shocking realization that I am" –He pulls back his hand, and grins from ear to ear –"quite man enough to admit defeat when clearly bested by my superior."

"Well now, consider me thoroughly astonished then," Lucien says; resting his arm over his knee when Korbin finishes speaking. "As I half expected you to throw no more than three more full fits of childish rage before finally relinquishing victory to me."

Korbin laughs. "Well, I suppose if you're so eager to see me react in that way... I could always toss a handful of leaves into the air or kick up various clouds of dust with my feet!"

"As wonderful as that sounds to my ears, I do believe I will unfortunately have to pass on that such honor for the time being," Lucien replies simply. "I'm sure you can understand."

"Yeah, I kind of thought you would say something like that," Korbin mutters as he lays back against Lucien's shoulder. "Regardless, I do hope that you won't let this miracle success of yours go to your head, and make you feel as though you've won so wholly... as you should be aware of the fact that I am walking away from our battle with half a win myself!"

"...Whatever do you mean?" And then it is Lucien's turn to blink in confusion...

And Korbin's turn to bend forward with a far deeper, far more genuine laugh.

"Well, it is just as you said! About how you believe that there is still so much left for you to teach me," He tells him in an almost excited breath as he wraps Lucien's arm more tightly around his shoulder. "Do you not realize what a wonderful opportunity this is for me? Not only is there still so much that I wish to learn from you, but with us training so closely to hone my skill in stealth, I will be able to notice even your most hidden flaws, your most secret of weaknesses, and use them to my advantage for all future attempts against you!"

Lucien's confusion leaves his eyes, and a faint smile takes its place. "Because even after what transpired here, your stubborn, unending pride still persists in having you believe that you will, one day, finally succeed in taking me by surprise?"

"Yes, precisely!" Korbin shouts as his words mix with a yelp of surprise when he feels Lucien suddenly rising; the action causing him to fall backward into the dirt when his short-lived prop rises back to his full height.

With a shake of his head, Korbin stares up at Lucien while grinning – upside down, just as he had from within the tree branch – before he extends his hand to him.

"However, it isn't just some sort of foolish belief, or pleasant fantasy of mine!" He informs him. "It is so much more than that! For I do not stubbornly believe that I will one day manage to triumph over you... I stubbornly know that I will!"

"Hm, is that so, my Silencer?"

"It most certainly is!" Korbin exclaims with a wider, more boyish smirk as Lucien helps him to his feet, before wrapping his arm around his brother's shoulder in a half embrace. "In fact, you should know that I am already contemplating various ideas in my mind’s eye even as we speak! And do believe me when I say that it shall be glorious! A duel of Assassin pit against Assassin! Brother daring to face off against brother! Once my utterly genius plan is brought to life, you shall be the one who is left speechless by the sheer amount of my skill!"

Lucien turns his gaze; looking towards the ground as the two of them round the winding path away from the grassy hilltops, and back towards the city's main gate as Korbin continues to ramble with a sparkling glint in his eye.

As he listens somewhat absentmindedly, Lucien shuts his own eyes for a moment, and smiles fondly to himself.

"Ah, my dear Korbin," He thinks aloud as his brother squeezes him close to his side as he speaks of his plans in childish joy. "May there never come a day in our lives where you dare to change even slightly. For I would hardly know what to do if you did."

"–And when you collapse upon the ground, overwhelmed by the outstanding, remarkable show of skill that I have managed to achieve in just a few scarce lessons, then that will be the moment in which you finally realize, once and for all, that I am in fact..." Korbin's words slowly trail off as he becomes quite aware of Lucien's sudden silence, and he shakes his shoulder to pull his attention back onto the moment at hand – the moment in which he describes his fated victory with as many details as he can muster to hopefully leave his brother in awe.

"Lucien?" He calls to him; his voice soft at first, gradually turning louder as he does so a second, and then third time. "Uh, hello, Lucien? Brother of mine? I know the ground below our feet might just be the most exciting thing you have seen in quite some time... but I would very much like to know whether or not you heard a single word that I just said to you; especially considering how important it was for future events."

"Rest assured that I heard nearly everything that you have said, my Silencer," Lucien tells him as he smiles with the same fondness as before. "From the honored duel taking place between brothers, and Assassins alike, to where you will slay me with the skill you have mastered far more quickly than I could have dared to believe humanly possible."

He places a hand over his chest to emphasize his sincerity. "It seems to me as though you have every known detail planned out to the very letter, and I would do well to sharpen my dagger in preparation for such a grand, historical moment soon coming to pass"

"As you so rightfully should!" And once more Korbin's gruff features bloom with an almost childlike spark of innocence. He breaks from their shared contact, and mimics Lucien's prior mockery of himself with a hand dramatically placed against his forehead.

"For what you do not yet realize is that, in that pivotal moment upon the battlefield, I shall not be your brother taking you by surprise!"–He lowers his hand, and then wags his finger–"No, no, no! You see, with my newfound knowledge and skill, I will be as nothing more than another target! One of your numerous enemies come to claim your life – or, in this case, your dignity – and when you are left hopelessly confused by the sudden change, ready to bury your blade deep within me, it will be more than enough to seal your fate!"

Coming to stand in front of the eastern gate of Cheydinhal, Lucien lets out a faint laugh. "So, it would seem..." He mutters as he begins to push open the metal doorways; but when he notices that Korbin remains in his shadow – rather than at his side as he had been – he stops to look over his shoulder.

"Is something the matter, Korbin?"

Korbin shakes his head. "Well, no; not really, I was just thinking for a moment..."

"About what other plans you could utilize to help bring about my downfall, I presume?"

"...About what it is I will tell Vicente when we return home, actually." Korbin clarifies as he runs a nervous hand over the back of his neck.

Lucien raises an eyebrow as confusion takes hold once more.

"Oh, uh, right – right, I never really had the chance to explain before now," Korbin begins with a shrug. "You see, I kind of owe a lot to Vicente for this entire setup, as he was the one who wrote your schedule down for me, and wished me the best of luck on my task"–He then quickly waves his hands in front of him as a sudden, deeply red blush flush over his cheeks–"But, but, but! Ev...Everything else – the time I chose, the location in the tree, my method of attack and so much more – that... that was all from me! S-So, so don't just... don't just assume that I had help the entire time, and still managed to lose somehow!"

Lucien places his hands against his hips and lowers his chin to his chest with a scoff. "Well, if that is surely the case," He murmurs in an almost tickled tone of voice. "Then I suppose that we could always tell Valtieri that you effectively managed to get halfway this time."

"Halfway?" Korbin repeats in curiosity.

"Indeed, as you came remarkable close to catching me unaware this one time than any that had come before," Lucien says he turns on his heel, and proceeds through the gate; gesturing to Korbin to follow with fingers plucking the air. "And, just as we had agreed upon, with more training there may undoubtedly come a day where you do finally succeed."

He turns his head and smiles up at Korbin. "How does that sound to you, my Silencer?"

"Why, I think that it sounds absolutely perfect," Korbin replies; matching Lucien's smile with one of his own.

And as the pair of Assassins trail the cobblestone path that would lead them to the comforts of a familiar, downtrodden house causally placed amid rows of far more elegant homes, they steadily become aware the warmth of torchlight guiding their way to Sanctuary grounds.

As well as the excited, overjoyed waving coming from their youthful Bosmer guardsman when he sees them appearing in the far distance, and they share a good-humored laugh among themselves over the events of the evening shared as they ruffle the boy's blond hair in passing, and head back inside the Abandoned House.

The pleasant sound of their joy echoing over the walls of the city and fading into the welcoming shadows of a twilight kissed night.

#hero of kvatch #lucien lachance #dark brotherhood #tes oblivion #the elder scrolls oblivion #The Knight The Emperor And The Assassin~ #Korbin and Lucien Related Things~ #My Fan Fiction~

[madamescarlette]

💓💕💞!

Debut: Invisible (I DEARLY hope you like this choice because for me it was an essential song for me when I was in middle school...the way that it’s this absolutely certain insistence that she knows how to love this person best, if given the chance, the way she watches and remembers everything slowly and with absolute care, holding onto each moment as something precious entrusted to her... this all reminds me of you! Because you’re a person who Remembers and holds onto moments and sees them for what they are.)

Fearless: Forever & Always (Truly there is probably no song of hers that is more cutting than this one. The old Fearless stan in me will truly always go wild for this one....the way she wrote it after the original final cut was made...the way it’s like she’s looking back behind her shoulder and telling him that he’ll miss her dreadfully...when she says WERE YOU A SCARED LITTLE BOY? It truly makes me go through every sort of emotion possible every time I hear it which is why I chose it for you! I think you can hold that full range of emotion very well as a person because of your big, careful heart.)

Speak Now: Enchanted (THIS ONE ALMOST SHOCKED ME BUT IT FEELS RIGHT...the original love-at-first-sight song....she will never be dethroned or replaced though. The way that this song is simultaneously both rosy and almost so self-aware at the same time. I think part of what makes it so universal is that every one of us has met somebody at a time where we have felt humdrum and boring and alone when surrounded by people, and have met other people who have lifted us up from that state, have drawn us out of our fearful states. So this is here for you because I believe you’re one of those people yourself! A person who can draw us out of our fears and our doubts and set others at ease...das you.)

RED: Come Back...Be Here (This song truly only hit me about three years ago....and then became horribly relatable again when I was missing practically every person in my life last year! Whatever emotion it is that we all feel when John Thornton asks Margaret to look back at him- that’s what this song means to me. This is what I categorize as ultimate yearning song, based on the fact that it makes me feel like I’m leaning out of a balcony trying to keep sight of a vanishing cab for as long as possible. I think pure sheer honesty of this song is why I’m giving it to you, the way she is showing all her cards, even if it is too late. The way she is basically admitting to everything she feels, no matter what happens after- I admire it very much.)

1989: Blank Space (this one is here because it’s just such a flurry of images! Truly I will never be able to separate this song from how it was like battle armor for me when the album first came out, so I have to let you know this is given with All The Love because I, well, love it dearly. I love the double-sidedness of it as a song, the way that it’s like a wink, and yet the humor of it still gets to the heart of what Taylor really struggles with, which is the constant journey of trying to be truly loved when it feels like every person who you fall for forever feels less than you do. And I do love the dichotomy of that- the fictional, boy-crazy Taylor, and the real Taylor, and how both of them are rooted in the fact that she Just Wants To Be Loved.)

reputation: Getaway Car (the song that makes us ALL lose our minds!! Truly I don’t give it enough attention because it is another song that is so Well Loved that I never feel that it needs me, but it is just That Good. The bandits! The slyness! The knowing way she says it was always going to end up like this but that doesn’t mean she didn’t cry as she drove away... it is So Good. It’s here as my nod to your storyteller self!)

Lover: Death by a Thousand Cuts (truly my heart breaks every minute I’m not spending walking around campus listening to this song and looking up at the trees and the blue, blue sky and asking whether things will be okay! Again, I don’t know what I can say about this song that hasn’t been said- the ultimate longing song, made for listening to whenever you need to pick yourself up and try to go on again even when it hurts. I think that’s my wish for you, that you will always be able to go on, even when it hurts dreadfully to have to leave things behind.)

folklore: cardigan (this is here because of the insistence in her voice when she says I knew you and the endearing absolute seriousness it has as a song- plenty of people love to shake their heads and decree their old selves as absolute fools that they’ve cut off from their present selves, but what I love about Betty is that she, with all gravity, stands by her teenage self and what she believed and what she felt and says that it was truer than anything else in her circumstances. The gravity of her sincerity is something that reminds me a lot of you!)

evermore: long story short (there truly could not be another one....between you and Emma forever reminding me of this song’s existence and forcing (blessing) me to listen to it five times every time I see it has just. solidified your identity as this song’s stan to me. Will there ever be a time where I can listen to this song without losing my entire mind? Entirely doubtful.)

#ask #friends tag #my meta #imissthembutitwasntadisaster #SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER DARLING #but here it is with all love 💖💖💖 #also you sending me three emojis...you are a queen

[violexides]

14-fl00f w/ komaeda & ishimaru

Prompt: “You must be freezing! Here, take this.”

--

Hope’s Peak Academy really looks beautiful like this. With the snow gently dusting the rooftop, glistening white on the pavement and neatly-trimmed grass, an almost ethereal sight created by the appearance of snow, effervescently welcomed upon the miraculous campus. It is difficult to see through half-closed yet worshipping eyes, certainly, but the way that the frost falls upon Hope’s Peak steals his breath.

Of course, he is aware of his place. A blight like him-- worthless, disgusting, and undeserving-- is out of place in such a beautiful scene. But, he cannot help but stare in wonder as, while the world sleeps around him, the hope of the school never ceases.

He is alone, out here, because it is just late enough for those staying up late-- to study, for the reserves and dedicated, or due to insomnia-- to likely fall asleep, but early enough that the sun has yet to rise. Though, when the sun rises against this unearthly scene, it will be beautiful. His eyes might just sear from his overwhelming incredulation, that such a place exists. That he, no matter how useless he may be, is still privy to this sight.

It truly is such good, perfect luck, that he is here.

This good luck is, of course, offset by the shivers that plague his body, the settling feeling that might later fester into hypothermia. A numbing chill has found place in his skin, welcomed by the little clothes he is wearing to prepare for the frigid temperatures, only donning his school uniform. Perhaps he should have draped his worn olive jacket on his shoulders as well, but…

… dying, even to the cold, at such a beautiful sight would be more than he deserves. Endlessly more than he deserves.

And yet, from behind him, he can hear footsteps in the snow. He takes careful time to study the sound of his classmates’ gait (which he would not consider obsessive, just… observant), and he can distinguish that what he hears is startlingly unfamiliar. He briefly entertains the concept that it is a reserve, but he swallows that fear, hoping that no reserve would be impertinent enough to impose themselves on the scene, like he himself has.

This is further quelled, because the voice he hears is far too assertive, a whisper-like yell of, “What are you doing? This behavior is not acceptable!”

He turns around to see the stranger, and quickly recognizes him. He’s an underclassmen, though only by a year, enrolled as the Ultimate Moral Compass. His hope shines brightly through his regulations, his words, his strict rigor, and his insistence on good behavior. It’s an honor to be in his presence, though stating such would not answer his question. “Ah, I apologize, um, Ishimaru-kun? I was merely admiring the beautiful sight of Hope’s Peak-- though I apologize, I know that someone as disgusting as me should not be allowed to admire such a scene.”

Ishimaru’s eyes widen, just slightly. “Please do not call yourself disgusting! However, it is not appropriate for a student to be out at such an hour!”

“Ah, my apologies. I understand it is dreadfully incorrigible of me, but I would like to stay up until sunrise. I will make sure to sleep in, I promise.” The last part is a lie (which is horrible, to lie to an Ultimate, much less the Ultimate Moral Compass. A sick caliber of irony), but… what the other doesn’t know can’t hurt, he supposes.

“Well, if you promise to sleep in…” he trails off, but then his eyes widen again. “You are not wearing a jacket!”

He almost forgot it was frigid outside, as his body adjusts and becomes numb to the scathing cold. “I… apologize?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound like a question, but before he can rectify his error, a shiver overwhelms his body, teeth slightly clattering together.

Truly, such horrible luck.

The expression on the other’s face borders on droll. In the short time it takes to blink, Ishimaru has taken off his jacket and handed it to the other. “You must be freezing! Here, take this.”

He shakes his head and laughs quietly to himself. “Hah, Ishimaru-kun, this is a wonderful gift, but I wouldn’t dare burden you by allowing your precious jacket to touch someone as filthy as me, haha.”

Ishimaru’s eyes soften. “What is your name?”

After briefly debating the result of replying, I am not worth being remembered, he decides to be honest (though, both options would be honest) and answers, “Komaeda Nagito.”

“Oh! You are the Ultimate Lucky Student of your year!”

He bites his lip. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

For a moment, there is a pause, and he debates turning back to face the sight of the school again. Before he does, however, Ishimaru thrusts his jacket toward him again. “Please, take my jacket! I will allow you to stay outside, though… that is not… appropriate behavior…” he seems to hesitate, but he brightens again, “You seem to be a respectable student, though, so I suppose I can allow it to slide!”

Haha. He is far from respectable, but he appreciates it regardless. “Ah, thank you.” He grips the jacket with tentative fingers, sliding it around him. Oh. That really is much warmer. “I appreciate it, Ishimaru-kun.”

“Of course, Komaeda-kun!” he beams, “I will see you around!”

He waits for Ishimaru to disappear from sight before murmuring a quiet, “See you.” He looks towards the building, and he can see light beginning to peek through on the horizon behind it. Subtly, he clutches the jacket closer, a small smile on his face.

It really is such good luck.

#nagito komaeda #kiyotaka ishimaru #requests #i have NEVER written ishimaru before #and im not sure how fluffy this turned out #but i think the tone is okay??

[loridrabbles]

Imprisoned | Dogma x Reader (Part 31)

Warning: Angsty I'm sorry they must suffer.

     (Y/n) didn't know when Dogma would be home next, but the 2 weeks she was waiting for him were horrible. She missed him dreadfully for one, two she knew what was coming when he got home and she regretted it. If it were up to her, she would take her little secret with Commander Wolffe to her grave, but Mia decided she had to tell him, or she would. Another week passed, a sleepless week before she got a message from him.

     "I'll be home tomorrow. I'm not sure what time, but tomorrow for sure." Was what the message read.

It was late when Dogma was able to head home, around 11. He finally scored some shore leave and he was ready to see his wife and daughter again. Oh, how he longed to see them once again. He made his way up to their shared apartment before opening it with a small smile on his lips. As he opened the door, he heard sniffles and crying from inside. He quickly shut the door before trying to find the source of the hiccups and sobs. When he found her, she was curled up on the couch, crying. She had been for a while by the looks of it too. Her cheeks and nose were red, her eyes were puffy and had a gloss over them, and a few of the hairs that framed her face were damp from tears as the lay on her side.

      “(Y-y/n) Cyar’ika, what’s going on?”

      "I don't know how to say it." She said through her sniffling. "I-I did something terrible. I never wanted to...to tell you, but M-Mia was here a-and she said...she said... I had to or...or-" She could barely get her words out as she sobbed.

     He sat down next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to assure her and at least try to comfort her.

      “You don’t have to do anything that Mia said,” He spoke. The trooper remembered her. She was the Kuati woman who was secretly dating Hardcase.

      "She said if I don't tell you then she will and if you find out from anyone else than me it will be ten times worse. I don't want to tell you so badly, but I have to get it over with." She said, wiping her nose with a tissue. She buried her face in his chest as another wave of sobs hit.

     Dogma perked up when (y/n) collapsed into his chest, wondering what Mia could have done to upset her so much. He slowly wrapped his arms around her shaking figure, letting her crying into his chest. He was still waiting for a reason for all the tears

      “What will she tell me (y/n)? Why don’t you want to tell me about it?” He asked, “Do... do you not trust me enough?”

      As he let her go, she reached for the glass of water sitting on the coffee table and took a sip, trying to collect herself.

      "I do. But, you'll never trust *me* again." She said, her voice still soft and shaky. "I don't want to break your heart. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you." She nearly whispered.

      Dogma frowned when (y/n) pulled away from him. She was being distant. Usually, she would let him in and they would talk about their problems all the time. They had always been so open and understanding with one another. Why was she being hesitant and distant now?

      “(Y/n) I’ve been through so much worse, I know that I’ll be alright,” He spoke, looking at her with a pleading look in his eyes. “Just tell me what you need to say...cyar’ika?”

      (Y/n) took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to collect herself enough to talk without hiccuping and crying through her words. When she opened her eyes, her gaze remained fixated on the table in front of her.

      "When...when you were still in prison..." She stopped, feeling herself about to break again. "When you were in prison...I...I slept with Wolffe." She squeezed her eyes shut, a couple of tears falling down her cheeks, waiting for his response.

      Dogma froze and looked at her in absolute shock. He didn’t know what to say right then and there, but  he knew that he was heartbroken. Tears formed in his eyes as he just stared at her, thinking of something to say. His worried brow turned to a scowl. As he spoke, he stood, part of him not even wanting to be near her, or look at her.

  "You did what?" He raised his voice, trying his best not to yell. There was something in him that wanted to, so badly, but to see her, already in such distress. He couldn’t. However, that wouldn’t stop him from telling her how he felt. Although, he couldn't keep himself from raising his voice, just a little.  The anger and sorrow in his voice penetrated her chest and made her heart ache.

     "I'm so sorry." She whimpered quietly as a few tears well to her lap.

     Dogma took a few steps back when he had heard what she said. Of all the things that they have gone through, this is how she paid him back. With dishonesty and infidelity? Running a hand down his face he turned away and looked the ground, trying to process what he had just heard.

     "Why would you do this to me?" He asked, voice wavering as he spoke. "Don't you love me? Or was this all just a game from the beginning?"

     "I love you more than anything, Dogma. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you." As she spoke, she stood from where she sat on the couch. "I didn't know what to do. I tried so say no, but I was weak. I made a mistake and gave in."

     Dogma shook his head. He couldn’t believe this anymore.

     “If you had ever truly loved me, you wouldn’t have had an affair with that Commander!” The trooper yelled, tears pricking at his eyes as he glared at (y/n). There was a right and a wrong in this situation but the only thing he could focus on was the reality of it all. The trooper took in a breath before trying to regain composure from yelling, but everything broke when he heard his little girl start to hiccup and sob in the other room.

     "I tried to tell him no! So many times, but he wouldn't leave it alone! I missed you so much and... I just...I wanted you home and..." She tried to speak through her tears and hiccups, "... I though if...if I closed my eyes...I could..."

     Dogma couldn’t stand hurting his family; he was a trooper and a father. Not someone who would ultimately end up hurting the people who he really cared and loved at the end of the day. The constant need of wanting the presence of the one you loved most at your side...Maybe he could understand what she was going through. The need, the want, the touch, the sight, the love...Everything must have been so overwhelming for (y/n) when he was still behind bars. She was caught in the middle of a retrial and a new baby. When she was taken from the prison it was so abrupt and she never got the chance to say goodbye and give him one last kiss. Everything truly must have taken a huge toll on her.

     (Y/n) continued to cry as she sat back down on the couch, her hands in her lap, nervously picking at the skin around her nails. The room was silent save for the hissing of the hot coals in the fireplace. The fire had died long ago, but (y/n) was in no mood to tend to it.

     "I wish it never happened." She said almost inaudibly. "I hate myself for what I've done. I'm so sorry."

     Dogma looked at her pitifully. He had every right in the galaxy to be angry at her, even just leave her and Saoirse right then and there, but he didn't. He didn't want to leave her or the family that he created. He loved and adored them; they were his pride and joy; his sanctuary in the mess of a war. He hesitantly stepped closer, before sitting at (y/n)'s side placing a hand on hers.

     "(Y/n)..." He started. She let the tears come without holding anything back and cried into his shoulder. It felt wrong, seeking him for comfort. It felt hypocritical like she deserved something for what she had done, like she should be avoiding him or that he should be pushing her away. But he didn't. He brought his free hand up to her reddened cheek, brushing away several tears.

     "I never wanted to hurt you." She cried.

     Dogma's heart broke at the sight of his lover breaking down into tears right in front of him. He knew that she never wanted to hurt him, and by all means...What she did, it didn't matter to him anymore. Yes, she made a mistake, but mistakes happen. They can learn to forgive and love, then move on in life. He had learned a lot about forgiveness the last few weeks. Yes, it was painful, and yes, it would be a lot of work but he would do anything for her Anything for his beloved family. Raising his other hand to cup her rest of her tear-stained face, the trooper ran his thumbs over her cheeks, wiping away the warm rivulets that spiraled down her pretty face.

     "I know my darling," He started out, "But I understand why. I'm not going to tell you how and make you more upset, but I just know (y/n), I understand." Leaning forward a bit, resting his forehead against hers, his voice was soft. "Yes, you made a mistake, but I'm willing to keep going on with you. With my family. I want to live a life with you...I said that in the cell back then, remember?" Dogma said with a soft smile on his lips, a small tear slipping out of his eye. "I intend to keep that promise forever, cyare."

     "I love you so much." She whispered, her heart rate finally starting to calm under his touch, tears flowing to a stop. "You're too forgiving."

     Dogma hummed lightly, taking both her hands into his. He knew that many others wouldn't do this if their partner was disloyal, but he was willing to forgive her. He loved her, and he wanted to pursue a life with her, with a family and everything else that came along the way. He couldn't stand being away from her for a moment. He wouldn't want anyone else in the galaxy other than her.

     "Because I love you so damn much, (y/n). You don't even know."

     "I wish none of this ever happened." She said, rubbing circles on his hand with her thumb.

     He didn’t respond; all he did was just take in her touch. Her smell. Her everything. He slowly opened his eyes, only just a little bit to just take in the beautiful features of her face.

     “We live and learn, my love. I’m willing to forgive you and move on. Right after I give Wolffe a piece of my mind.”

     "Just leave it alone, love." She said, looking up into his eyes.

     "He knew you weren't mentally in a good place and he pressured you. When you said no the first time, he should have fucking left."

     "Don't do anything you'll regret." She said with a small laugh, bringing a hand to his cheek.

     The night was rough, but they made it through.

#the clone wars fanfiction #the clones #the clone wars #dogma #star wars the clone wars #clone trooper dogma x reader #clone trooper dogma #dogma x reader #imprisoned

[detectivedreameater]

Between Us||Anita and Marley

TIMING: Immediately after the double date with Morgan and Deirdre. PARTIES: @professoranieves and @detectivedreameater SUMMARY:  “Is this why people talked about their feelings? So they didn’t just sit around and wonder what the other person was thinking all the time?”

The drive back to Anita’s house was dreadfully silent. She had insisted that she drive back, and the mere fact that Marley didn’t put up that much resistance was concerning. In fact, a lot of what had happened this evening was concerning. As she pulled up her driveway and put the car in park she paused for a second, wanting to ask a million questions. But she needed a drink first, that cheap bowling alley beer had worn off a while ago. They needed to talk which meant she needed tequila. That’s why once they walked into her house, she slipped her jacket off and hung it up then made her way straight to the kitchen, pulling a bottle out of her freezer and grabbing two glasses. She poured a glass for herself, then looked up towards Marley before pouring a second. “You want something to drink?” Given what she had just gone through she wasn’t fully sure if she’d want any. She would if it was her, but she still decided to ask first. 

The silence felt almost painful, but Marley couldn’t think of what to say. Where to start. So she let the silence stagnate until they got back and she climbed out of the car and followed Anita into her home. Deposited her jacket on the rack next to Anita’s and followed her again, this time into the kitchen. The glass was filled before she answered, but the only choice was yes anyways. She just nodded and came over to the counter, grabbing the second glass that was poured. The alcohol burned down her throat and washed away the taste of warm beer and bile. “Thanks,” she muttered, before sliding over to the table and sinking into a chair. She rubbed her eyes and blinked, trying to scrape away the leftover bits of the broken promise. Even after she’d been released, a heavy feeling has still clung to her. If she told Anita the truth, would she hate her for real this time? “So that was...something,” she finally said.

Anita followed Marley over to the kitchen table, realizing this was probably the first time she had sat at it in months. She only even had it because it was weird to not have a table. She took the seat directly next to Marley, offering a soft smile at her comment, at least she was saying something. It was an opening to ask a question, but Anita almost couldn’t decide which she wanted to ask first. So she just went with the one that Marley had already agreed to answer earlier. “So, you and Deirdre? What happened there?” Based on what Deirdre had said in the parking lot, Anita was fairly positive that her past lovers theory was woefully wrong. But she wanted to hear Marley’s narrative of what happened, especially since she had no reason to trust that fae.  

Marley looked over at Anita when she sat, feeling a soft smile pull onto her face just enough to stretch her lips. Her hands both wrapped around the cool glass, one finger circling the top of it as she contemplated her answer to this question. She’d already told Anita she would answer it, and they’d already agreed to be honest with each other. So, honesty it was, she supposed, even if it scared Anita off, even if that thought scared her more than anything. “It’s uh--” she drummed her fingers on the glass, taking in a breath. “I fed from her. And I was--” swallowed, “--cruel. I usually am. Was. I--” rubbed her face again, “I don’t know what I am anymore. But we agreed to meet up, I thought it was a, you know--” she looked up at her, giving a little shrug, “--hook up. She didn’t. She was apparently already with Morgan by then, but that’s not-- that doesn’t have to do with it. I had made a promise to show her a horrific time because I knew what she was and she didn’t know what I was, and so I fed from her, and I--” a pause, a beat, she swallowed, “--I left her there.”

Part of Anita wondered if Marley was going to answer the question honestly, mostly because they tended to talk about the difficult things vaguely. But this time she was brutally honest. While she didn’t love everything that she heard, she knew how difficult it must’ve been for her to say all of that. How difficult it must have been to not hold back. “Who made you promise to do that to her? Were they … a fae too, or whatever she said she was?” Despite growing up in a family that fully embraced their true nature, the more time she spent in this town the more apparent it became to her that she didn’t really know much beyond what she grew up around and the main classics. Werewolves, vampires, zombies, ghosts, etc. “But look, I mean, I’m not gonna lie and say I think it’s cool what you did to her. But I get it. It’s not like I haven’t done my fair share of questionable things.”

“Well, technically she did,” Marley answered, ruffling her nose. She took a long swig of the glass, letting the tequila settle in her stomach a moment. “That’s just-- I don’t know exactly how fae magic works or why it works the way it does, but it’s powerful. Fae can bind people to deals and promises. If you promise them something, you’re bound to that promise. And if you break it, well--” she waved her hand to herself, “--and sometimes it’s worse.” She finished off her glass and flicked it with her fingers absently, listening to the ring. She glanced sideways at Anita. “She was right about me, you know,” she muttered, slumping on the table. “I’m a coward. I’ve run from things my whole life and the only way I ever had control was to make sure I hurt people first.” She picked up the glass and set it down in front of Anita. “I know it’s too late at this point, but I never wanted to hurt you. I don’t want that.”

“Why would she make you promise to hurt her?” God this really got more complicated with each new piece of information Anita learned. She finished off the liquid in her glass, then poured herself another. Ever since she met Marley she found herself doing things she never thought she’d wanna do. But she did want to, with her. No matter what they went through together, she still found herself just wanting to be near Marley. When she saw her place the cup down in front of her, she poured another serving out for her. “Hey,” she started, reaching over and gently pulling Marley’s face towards her so they were looking into each other’s eyes. “You haven’t done anything to hurt me. I’m fully un-hurt. It’s not too late for anything.” Anita smiled softly before pulling her hand away, “I think you forget how similar we are sometimes, ya know.”  

“She didn’t know what I was,” Marley responded, “she didn’t understand what I could do.” Anita’s fingers grazed her chin and tugged her face around to look at her. Her eyes were soft as she looked into them and Marley was tempted to not look away-- but then she was reminded of what happened recently to Lydia. And what she was capable of doing, even on accident, and she turned her eyes downward. Just in case. The idea struck her as odd, for some reason. She knew most of Anita’s past from what she’d shared, but she’d never contemplated the idea of her doing something like that now. “Why do you like me?” she asked suddenly, quietly, lifting her eyes just enough to meet Anita’s gaze again.

The question caught Anita off guard. It made her feel a bit nervous, mostly because she didn’t really know if she could put it into words. It didn’t make sense to her how she could feel the way she did, or why she liked Marley so much. But she did. Breaking eye contact, she reached over and grabbed her glass, finishing every drop that she had just poured, the cold liquid turning hot as it ran through her body. “I- I don’t really know. I just, I feel safe when I’m with you. I feel like I can be myself.” She owed her full honesty even if it scared her, since that’s how Marley responded to her first question. “I’m happy when I’m with you. The kind of happy that makes me realize that I haven’t actually been happy in years.” The words felt heavy and they lingered in the air as she turned back and looked at Marley. “Why didn’t you want to answer the question about how you felt about me?” 

Marley watched Anita closely as she answered. She was, after all, a human behavioral expert. Though human wasn’t the right word here, it still applied. The broken eye contact, the tense movements, the slamming of the alcohol. Anita was nervous. And, she noticed, so was she. Her palms had grown suddenly clammy and she kept them wrapped around the cool glass to pretend they weren’t. Her answer didn’t help the clamminess. Before her words, Marley hadn’t even believed she was capable of making someone feel happy, let alone safe. She still didn’t entirely believe it. How could she? Monsters couldn’t feel. She drummed her fingers again. “Because the answer scares me,” she said so quietly it felt almost like she hadn’t said it. “And I don’t scare easily.”

“Well, answering your question was scary for me.” Anita always felt a resistance from Marley whenever they tried to have real conversations. At first, she didn’t know why it bothered her so much, but recently she began to realize it was because she wanted to be the person that Marley wasn’t scared to talk to. The person she wanted to talk to. “So, ya know, we can just be scared together. Right?” In all honesty, she was terrified to hear Marley’s answer. What if it wasn’t a good answer? What if the reality was she realized she didn’t care about Anita as much as she obviously cared about her? Ultimately though, she thought knowing was better than just driving herself mad thinking about all the possibilities. 

Marley wanted to very pointedly remind Anita that she’d just admitted to being a coward who constantly ran away from her feelings. She could barely even admit to Erin she was upset when she’d thought she was dead. Or that she was mad at Jane for disappearing on her. And that she had thought it was just another instance of someone leaving her behind. Because she wasn’t important to them. Because people couldn’t care properly about a monster. About a killer. “I don’t know how I feel,” she finally admitted, hands tensing on the glass. It shook, ever so slightly, before she righted herself and turned to look at Anita fully, shifting herself in her chair. She was a coward, but maybe she didn’t want to be anymore. Maybe Deirdre was right. “Because I’ve never felt like this about someone before. I...never let myself, and I thought I could do that with you, too, but I--” gave a hesitant shrug, “--I guess I can’t.”

Anita grinned at Marley, finding herself both excited and terrified about her admission. Terrified because she didn’t know what came next, or even what she wanted to come next. They were both women in their thirties who didn’t know the first thing when it came to genuinely caring about another person. But she was excited because hearing those words felt oddly validating. It solidified that she wasn’t making her feelings out to be more than they were, whatever they were going through, they were both in deep at this point. “Well… good. I’m glad you can’t with me.” Is this why people talked about their feelings? So they didn’t just sit around and wonder what the other person was thinking all the time? “I’ve never felt this way about someone else before either, by the way. I don’t really know what I’m feeling, but I know that it’s different. You’re different.” 

You’re different. Marley blinked. She never really thought about how she saw herself reflected in Anita. Maybe that was why she’d found herself so drawn to her. After that first night, in her hot tub. They’d both looked at each other and decided that, whatever they were, it didn’t matter. And then they kept coming back. Marley’s skin vibrated. “I don’t want it to ruin this,” was all she could think to say. She didn’t know how to do this, she was fumbling. She was afraid she would drop it and break it. Shatter it to pieces. The fear was palpable and it was her heart hammering against her ribs, making them hurt. “I don’t want to ruin this.”

“I don’t want to ruin this either.” Anita replied softly, despite not really knowing what ‘this’ was. Were they together? Were they still just hooking up and sometimes hanging out without having sex? Even though she desperately wanted the answers to those questions, she was terrified that just asking them would ruin it. She was quiet for a while, grappling with the fact that her fear of being honest about what this was might itself ruin it. “Being with you is confusing. You’re in my head, kind of all the time. Even when I’m … with someone else, there’s this voice in my head telling me I should be with you instead.” Anita looked down at her hands as she spoke, uncomfortable with being so direct. “I always wanna be with you instead and I don’t really know how to deal with that.” 

Marley felt her inside squirm at the words. She’d never said them before or heard them from someone to her before. They sat in her stomach like rocks and she shivered, looking away. What was she supposed to say to that? Did she feel the same way? She didn’t know. Her hands played with her glass again, nervously ticking against the side. “I--” she started, stopped. “I don’t--” stopped again. Bit her lip. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Apparently I thought about you so much even the person in my head said something to me about it. But I don’t--” she paused again, the words both catching and clambering in her throat. Needing to be said but wanting to be held in, held safe. Where they wouldn’t expose her and make her vulnerable. “We’re not those people, are we?”

Anita’s lips instinctively formed into a small smile when Marley told her she thought about her too. It made the fluttering in her stomach intensify as she now had to wonder what all this meant for them. Then she said those words, the words Anita had said to her a while ago. “No. We’re not.” She turned back to look at Marley. “But I don’t think we’re the people we pretend to be either. I think maybe we’re somewhere in the middle.” Since the first time she had met Marley she had been holding so much in. Partly because she didn’t trust herself to get close to someone else, and partly because she was scared about it. She had convinced herself Priya was an exception, but being with Marley made her realize that wasn’t true. 

Fear was a funny thing. Marley didn’t fear guns or knives or fire like normal people. Thunderstorms were a delight, spiders were her best friends as a kid, and snakes a close second. But this? This was, surely, what true fear felt like. Gripping her heart like a vice and squeezing her stomach to the point where she felt her inside were liquid. She shook, swallowed sand in her throat, on her tongue. “I can’t--” she started, “What if I can’t be that person for you?” What if she didn’t know how? What if she messed it up and broke her promise and hurt Anita? She didn’t want any of those things. She didn’t want to be alone again. “Why can’t we just-- be this?”

Anita was starting to realize that she cared more than she was letting on because when Marley asked if they could just keep doing what they were doing, she felt a pang of disappointment. She didn’t know in what form or even why, but there was a part of her that wanted more than just what they were already doing. She didn’t think she was ready for the ‘relationship’ title, nor did she feel like she could handle the pressure of being exclusive, but there was a part of her that wanted to acknowledge that this was more than just friends with benefits. But if she had to choose between losing Marley and just sticking with the status quo, that was an easy choice. “I’m not expecting you to be any specific kind of person.” She poured herself some more liquor and took a sip. “But, we can. We can just be this.” 

Anita was pouring herself more liquor and Marley felt like it was all wrong. But she didn’t know what else to offer in this moment. She didn’t know if she had enough of herself left to give away without crumbling yet. Her entire life had been spent gathering and collecting small pieces of herself and hiding them away behind doors and walls and layers of protection. Even if one came down, there were a thousand more. It didn’t feel fair, with parts of Anita was sharing with her. Slowly, she reached out and put her hand on Anita’s, the one on her cup of tequila. “I need you, too, you know,” she finally said, urging her hand away from the glass, “I don’t know how it happened, but I do.” She brought Anita’s hand to her lips and pressed them gently against her cold knuckles. 

Anita looked over at Marley when she felt her hand on top of hers. There was a strange intimacy in the action, an intimacy rooted in caring and not just sex. Just gentle and reassuring. “It really scares me how important you are to me.” She reached down and wrapped both of her hands around Marley’s. “If something were to happen to you… I honestly don’t know what I’d do.” Saying that outloud made her want to run away.  She didn’t know why she was being so direct about her feelings, but she was already on a roll so why stop now? She hated laying it all out on the line like that, but it seemed like the more she opened up the more willing Marley seemed to be to talk about this stuff. And just hearing her say that she needed her was enough to make it all worth it. 

Marley gave a short chuckle. “I’m invincible, remember?” she muttered, shaking her head slightly. It felt strange, though, to hear someone say that. It almost didn’t feel real. If she hadn’t been holding Anita’s hands so tightly in her own, felt her cool skin, grounding her to this moment, she would have been sure it was a figment of her imagination. But it was real. This was all real. She squeezed just to reaffirm it was true. Marley scooted forward enough to be close enough to her, their legs intertwining, and leaned forward as she tugged on Anita’s hands to pull her to her. Lips pressed gently against Anita’s, in a soft way that was familiar to them but unfamiliar to anyone else. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah, only at night though. Lotta daylight hours unaccounted for.” Anita smiled when she felt Marley squeeze her hands. Being that close to her made her almost feel warm. She kissed her back. Everything seemed to melt away in those few moments, as it often did when she was with Marley. “Neither am I.” She almost added the words ‘I promise’ to the end of that sentence, but given the events of the evening she decided against it. Anita stood up from her chair and offered out her hand to Marley, “Come on. Take me to bed.” 

“Guess I’ll just have to make sure I’m not doing anything you wouldn’t approve of in the daylight,” Marley said, giving her a wink and a grin. Despite the weariness of the night, she felt a sudden rush of energy as Anita stood and held out her hand to her. And while this part of their routine was familiar, it somehow felt suddenly different, as Marley took her hand. Not softer, not stranger, just different. It almost felt new. And maybe Deirdre was right, maybe she was a coward. But maybe she was right about the other thing, too-- maybe Marley could decide who she wanted to be, what she wanted to be. And maybe there was room in her life for her walls and her sense of self and Anita. Only time would tell, she supposed. She shut the door behind them and left the rest of the night with it.

#chatzy #wickedswriting #chatzy: anita #between us #anita