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wangxianficfinder · 1 month

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In the mood for...

March 25th

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1. hi! y'all are really cool! A) are there any fics where a-yuan (raised by the wens/wwx) wields suibian when he gets older?

also, are there fics B) where jiang cheng dual wields suibian with sandu? @writeitinsharpie

1A)

Though one were strong as seven, he too with death shall dwell (For many times and lands) by sjyl_lotus (E, 148k, wangxian, WIP, Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Suicidal Thoughts, YLLZ WWX, LSZ is a Wei, WWX Adopts LSZ, WWX doesn't go to nightless city, WWX runs away with a-yuan and granny Wen, Little bit of angst, Wéi Yuan is an excelent son, WWX Doesn't die, people is people and overall JGY is JGY so shit will happen, JYL Lives, Wangxian Reunion, Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lanling Jin Sect, Yunmeng Jiang Sect, Gusu Lan Sect Rules, Gusu Lan Sect, Burial Mounds, granny wen is best, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Implied/Referenced Torture, Panic Attacks, supportive WSZ, Anxiety Attacks, Canon-Typical Violence, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, MXY Deserves Happiness)

🔒❤️ kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 75k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Fluff and Angst)

1B)

The Twin Blades of Yunmeng by GhostySword, ofmindelans (T, 89k, JC & WWX, wangxian, JC/NHS, Canon Divergence, Yunmeng Brothers Reconciliation, BAMF JC, protective LWJ, Golden Core Reveal, Swords and Feelings, WWX Resurrection, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Embedded Images, Sect Leader QS)

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2. Hi!

For the next itmf :

Looking for the fics that talk about NHS a) as the real author of the spring books he was distributing. Imagined and painted .

B) Or another version where he specifically was giving WWX spring books with gay sex or bi threesomes maybe

C) fics with focus on wwx browsing NHS spring books and doing some thinking about sexuality and self exploration

Thank you!

2B)

Fentao-laoshi’s Guide to Cut-Sleeve Pleasures by occultings (microcomets) (E, 31k, wangxian, canon divergence, pining while fucking, friends with benefits, first time, cloud recesses study arc, practice kissing, sharing a bed, jealousy, getting together, confessions, happy ending) could also fit 2C

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3. hii this is for itmf!!

fics where lan yuan is still like a toddler!! or even an infant!!!

💖 The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane (E, 71k, wangxian, modern, accidental baby acquisition, slow burn, pining)

box your errors by mellowflicker (T, 42k, WangXian, Modern AU, single dad lwj, Domestic Fluff, Family Issues, Slow Burn, Kid Fic, let lwj have friends agenda, Hurt/Comfort, Pining)

🔒 so take my hand (take my whole life too) by cicer (E, 92k, wangxian, Modern, Accidental Baby Acquisition, oh my god they were roommates, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, this fic is not about trauma, it's about the yearning, slowburn, some characters have a pretty strong bias against folks with drug addiction, (this does not reflect the author's opinion of people with addiction disorders!), none of the really grim abuse/drug use affects our main characters, and it takes place offscreen)

The stuffed bunny, the beautiful nephew, and other gifts from Lan Qiren by deliciousblizzardshark (G, 8k, LQR & WWX, wangxian, Modern, Single Parent WWX, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Uncle Acquisition, Found Family, Fluff)

Let's Play Pretend and Live Our Lives by Tassos (E, 50k, wangxian, Modern, On Purpose Baby Aquisition, Accidental Husband Aquisition, Idiots in Love, WWX Has Self Esteem Issues, Domestic Fluff, Kid Fic, Light Angst, the Lans and Jiangs make an appearance, NHS Gives Great Advice, Pining, Getting Together)

Magic Mishap by Regency_Bunny (T, 8k, wangxian, Modern, imbo LXC, Single Parent WWX, Kid Fic, Magic Tricks, Fluff and Humor, Child LSZ, Meet-Cute, Bunnies, Misunderstandings, Love at First Sight)

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4. Hi, I'm in a mood for fantasy AUs with necromancer WWX ^^ Can also be modern w magic

Darkness Before the Dawn by Selenay (E, 64k, wangxian, Zombie Apocalypse, Modern With Magic, Necromancer WWX, Reunions, toddler A-Yuan, There Was Only One Bed, There are zombies but not graphically horrific zombies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Find a home in the middle of an apocalpyse)

all the bonds of nature by Anonymous (E, 68k, wangxian, MXY & WWX, MXY & LWJ & WWX, WIP, Modern with Magic, Romantic Comedy, Roommates to lovers, Pining LWJ, Pining, LWJ falls in love in roughly fifteen seconds, he's a mess what can i say, Necromancy, ethical necromancer WWX, Music Teacher LWJ, Fluff and Smut, a lot of meditation on the bullshit of being a public school teacher, musings on the nature of personal property and land ownership as one is wont to do, Ghosts, Urban Fantasy, Low Fantasy, wangxian are extremely weirdo4weirdo in this, Light Angst, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Rimming, Felching, Light Bondage, Virginity Roleplay, (just a little. wwx is not good at playing the virgin), Kink Negotiation, Praise Kink, BDSM, Developing Relationship, Dominant LWJ)

necromancy is a valid career path! Series by coslyons, Skadiseven (T, 41k, WWX & XY, XY & WQ, WN & XY, WWX & WN & WQ, LSZ & XY, LWJ & XY, wangxian, Granny Wen & XY, Modern with Magic, Seattle, Necromancy, Found Family, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Gardens & Gardening, Mathematics, Running, and other crimes against Teenagers, XY is a shitty teen, sometimes a family can be three mildly feral twenty-somethings and the extremely feral teenager that adopts them, Growing Up, The Mortifying Ordeal of Realizing Your Pseudo-parents are People Too, Big brother XY, A-Yuan is a little gremlin, WWX is a much larger gremlin)

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5. Hi! 🤗

This one is for ITMF. I'd like to read new fics about WWX having a new golden core. No mordern fics or dark ones, please, I'm not in the mood 🙏. I want happy endings!

Thanks again! You make my days much better!!

🥰✨ @wangxiansgirl

The Core Issue by Hauntcats (T, 21k, wangxian, WQ & WWX & WN, NHS & WWX & NMJ, canon divergence, golden core rebuilding, golden core tied to soul, angst w/ happy ending, not JC friendly) WWX meditates a golden core back

when you’re doing all the leaving (then it’s never your love lost) by tardigradeschool (T, 26k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Sharing a Bed, Sharing Clothes, Fix-It, the inherent eroticism of under robes, Golden Core Transfer) LWJ gives WWX a part of his own core

🧡 a stone to break your soul, a song to save it by rikke ( M, 180k, WangXian, Arranged marriage, Canon Divergence, Hurt/comfort, Light angst, Canon typical violence) Technically not a new golden core, but a new core of a different type

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts) WWX gets part of someone else's core transplanted into him

Ghosts Shouldn’t by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 15k, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

Righteous at a Cost by thunderwear (G, 21k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, no one dies, LQR finds out about WWX's core, WWX and LQR are friends??, In My Fic?, its more likely than you think, LWJ in the bg like whats happening?, Fluff, WWX goes to Gusu, Mutual Pining, Golden Core Reveal)

Can't Tell Me Nothin by natacup82 (T, 35k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Family Feels, Communication, BAMF Women)

🔒Away from Trouble by Ilona22 (M, 15k, wangxian, Alternate Universe, Not JC Friendly, WangXian Get a Happy Ending) This is one of my personal favorites, for the growth wwx goes through and what he accomplishes separate from the sects while regrowing a new core for himself. (However, the author doesn’t spend enough time on wangxian romance for it to not just feel like something they tacked on to fill that required box, so don’t go in expecting good wangxian)

What Is Left Over by Loriqod (T, 30k, wangxian, JC & WWX, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Yunmeng brothers, Post-Canon Fix-It, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Happy Ending, WangXian in Love, SO SO SO IN LOVE, bite-sized angst, Canon-Typical Violence, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Training Montage) This one’s WWX redeveloping a core in MXY’s body. It might not be quite what you had in mind, but give it a chance, this fic is ALL about him actually cultivating with the idea of making a new core, & it’s rare to find a fic with that focus. (Even amongst fics that are suppose to be all about that(for some reason people are allergic to showing WWX actually cultivate))

I’m Sorry & Thank You by Iamnotawriter (T, 12k, wangxian, post-canon, Canon Compliant, Golden Core, Canon-Typical Violence, LQR’s epipheny, Angst with a Happy Ending)

Bitter Plants Bearing Sweet Fruit by Kryal (T, 83k, wangxian, canon-typical horror elements, Worldbuilding, Desert, Misuse of Historic Setting, Original Character Death(s), Case Fic, aftermath of canon, Established Relationship, Nothing Explicit But Shameless Innuendo)

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6. Alright everyone, give me everything you have where either: (A) WWX is an actual rogue cultivator at the start of the fic, or (B) he leaves the Jiangs (via Madam Yu banishment or getting fed up with them an leaving on his own) and spends time as a rogue cultivator. (I want to see my boy in the wild doing the wild cultivator thing) if he doesn’t have a core at the beginning of the fic, I would appreciate recs where he regains it at some point. I have a Wangxian agenda btw, so WX endgame plz. @omgnectarina

Ad Oblivione by Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter (M, 70k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Identity Reveal, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, Angst with a Happy Ending) WWX is sent back in time to when he was a child & doesn't get taken in by the Jiangs

We Meet at the Thousandth Step by Admiranda, Rynne (T, 258k, wangxian, CSSR/WCZ, WIP, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, CSSR & WCZ Live, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Different First Meeting, Night Hunts, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Romance, Drama, Fluff, Strangers to married, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Everyone Lives AU, Developing Relationship, Minor Violence, Case Fic, Mystery, Flirting, WWX's Canon-Typical Flower Flirting, Arson, There Was Only One Bed, Getting Together, First Kiss, Meeting the Parents, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, WWX Is a Good Big Brother, New Relationship Bliss, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Blood and Injury, Yiling siblings)

Cultivating immortality by KizuKatana (E, 230k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Pining, Mutual Pining, WWX low self-esteem, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending, not sure if this qualifies as fix-it but that was my emotional need/intent, Hurt/Comfort, unreliable narrator (wwx's self image is…), sect wars happening, Canon typical darkness, demonic cultivation descriptions in detail, self-indulgent exploration of the creation of demonic cultivation and how it changed WWX, JC and LWJ are reluctant (VERY RELUCTANT) allies, YZY & LQR are made to face up to their faults, JYL is badass (fight me) though not in terms of cultivation strenght, JC gets a chance to redeem himself, Found Family, First Time, novel canon relationship dynamics)

🔒 crying like a fire in the sun by Reverie (cl410) (T, 10k, wangxian, SL/XXC, JC & WWX, BSSR/LY, Runaway WWX, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives AU, rogue cultivator WWX, Angst, Post Cloud Recesses, Not YZY Friendly, Happy Ending, BSSR is WWX's grandmother instead of grandmaster)

Inchoate by Marinelifeclub (T, 20k, wangxian, Child Abuse, Bad Parent JFM, Bad Parent YZY, Protective LQR, Protective LWJ, Rogue Cultivator WWX, YZY Bashing, JC Bashing, No Golden Core Transfer, Dark JFM)

A Thousand Things by tickertape (M, 108k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiāngs, Developing Friendships, lots of OCs because I can't help myself and I love them, most of the canon cast make cameos at some point, miscommunication and misunderstandings (they’re idiots your honor), Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Night Hunts, The Cloud Recesses Rabbits, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Slow Burn, like really slow burn, like if it was a bushfire it would take 8 years for it to burn through one (1) forest, the wangxian strangers to obnoxious best friends to obnoxious lovers pipeline, 'shitty cultivation world bureaucracy' is also a running theme, WWXHas a Fear of Dogs)

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7. hello! I was hoping you could recommend fics where wei ying is taken hostage by people who hate lan zhan and lan zhan gets beaten up trying to save him. Maybe kind angsty and emotional? @ivybookworm

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8. hi - for the next itmf, any fics that go on from that haunting almost last scene in the Untamed where LS, WN and LWJ all leave WY alone on the road. angsty ones that explore the idea of WY having no-one would be awesome. thank you so much for all you do! @oldoni

Story-Shaped by lingering_song (T, 13k, NHS & WWX, wangxian, Post-Canon, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Inventor WWX, Found Family, NHS needs a new hobby, And apparently that’s spoiling his Wei-Xiong, Mentioned Character Death, Alcohol, Protective NHS, WangXian Endgame, Not JC Friendly, Not particularly gentry sects friendly overall tbh) NHS finds WWX wandering about. Possibly not as angsty as requester is hoping for, but does address how bad an idea it is to let WWX wander alone

im reminded of a fic but cant recall the one. Wwx is travelling by himself, writing letters to LZ, he stays in a town and it ends up cursed. LZ and the juniors arrive to solve the case. Wwx is acting weird and hides his letters. The juniors read the letters and find out wwx is angry and full of resentment about how he's been treated. They find out the curse resonates from him. They talk it out to resolve matters. Any idea?

Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 63k, WangXian, WWX & JL, Post-Canon, Protective WWX, Protective JL, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Reluctant Matchmaker JL) similar to Story Shaped, but it's Jin Ling who finds wwx. // might fit the bill? It isn't overly angsty, but it does have characters remarking on how bad of an idea it is to let WWX go off on his own.

Judge Softly by Chrononautical (E, 32k, wangxian, LSZ & WWX, LQR & WWX, accidental voyeurism, non-consensual mind reading, oblivious WWX, bamf WWX, genius WWX, post-canon Fix-it, angst w happy ending, LQR tries)

the soft animal of your body by howodd5ever (M, 21k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, WWX has feelings about having a body, sort of a case fic, a little bit of epistolary goodness, graphic descriptions of wounds, Feelings About Death, WWX gets seriously injured, quoting chinese poetry at each other as a love language, Art Embedded, wound-tending as an act of love, Bathing/Washing, the mortifying ordeal of being asked to stay, Sharing a Bed, Finding home, WWX's canonical alcohol abuse makes an appearance a bit)

my age has never made me wise by idrilka (E, 63k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Part-epistolary, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Marriage Proposal, Homecoming, One Brain Cell WWX Strikes Again)

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9. Itmf: what's a story premise/trope that's really hard to do well, and what stories have done them really well?

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10. Itmf, what's ur fav story prompt/initial premise that you've seen, regardless of the execution(s) of it?

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11. thank u for ur hard work! any fic recs of lan zhan hurting wei ying and he regrets it? thankss

Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

我的皇后是農民 | sowing seeds in the cold palace by sweetlolixo (E, 84k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Imperial Consort WWX, Farmer WWX, Angst, Romance, Wingman LJY, Wife-chasing-LWJ, Arranged Marriage, Best Boy A-Yuan)

Honesty is the Best Policy (Except if You’re an Asshole) by piecrust (E, 22k, wangxian, college/university au, porn w/ feelings)

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12. ITMF like, historical perspectives. Like people in modern times talking about/teaching about/learning about LWG, WWX, and possibly others as historical figures

Historical Precedents for the Concept of Time Travel and Transmigration by meyari (G, 21k, wangxian, Fluff and Crack, dubious academic writing, Historical Research, it's practically its own character in this, vague college setting, Modern, Good YZY, Good Person SS, Reincarnation) It's the second part of a series, the first one takes place in canon era, and the second one is about modern Wei Ying researching about historical Wei Wuxian for his thesis! I recommend reading the first part first (or at least looking at the premise) for much-needed context, and also because it's so good!

DID YILING LAOZU REALLY EXIST???: a Thread [1/?] by el_em_en_oh_pee (G, 6k, wangxian, Academia AU, Social Media, Research, Cartographic Mishaps, HOW IS CARTOGRAPHIC MISHAPS AN ESTALISHED TAG. NO HAPS WERE MISSED HERE I ASSURE U, Folklore, LJY's Hot Takes, Procrastinating Your Dissertation Proposal By Writing A 104-Tweet Thread: The Lan Jingyi Story, Mixed Media, POV Outsider, this is kind of an AU - Modern and kind of not???, it's a modern academic/researchy exploration of canon lol) it's AMAZING

For 12, there's also the one where Wangxian are majoring in cultivation in University and there's a talk about the meaning of Hanguang-jun compositions with several one liner "titles" like fried watermelon rinds are terrible or something like that. Can't mine it on my AO3 history but it's there, I know it's there!

🔒 Night of the Living History (an edutainment special!) by Aerlalaith (T, 51k, wangxian, Modern with Magic, Workplace Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Museums, living history, the author's feelings about, the edutainment industry, museum workers, Some Plot, Slice of Life, Injury, a minor haunting, the stakes are low, unless you're on the museum board i guess, WWX does not get an employee discount)

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13. Hi! For the next ITMF, could anyone recommend wangxian fics that also feature LWJ & JC not getting along/being hostile toward each other? I'm talking like anything from them having disagreements to physically fighting to just outright hating each other.

Untitled tumblr fic where LWJ punches JC in the face (sharing my reblog as writer seems to have deleted their blog & I can't find it on their Ao3)

the only way out by cafecliche (T, 12k, wangxian, JC & WWX, JC & LWJ, Post-Canon, this is one part character study, one part comedy of errors, and one part fix-it, WWX is a people pleaser in this essay I will, my event planning experience rearing its head again, Podfic Available)

Wei Wuxian’s Kidnapping Back and Forth Farce (Starring Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji) by misscam (M, 5k, wangxian, JC & WWX, Humor, Switching)

some good mistakes by Lise (T, 18k, WangXian, JC & WWX, JC & LWJ, Road Trips, (terrible road trips), Post-Canon, Rescue Missions, Hurt/Comfort, ish, Awkward Conversations, POV JC, JC & WWX Reconciliation, (ish they’re working on it)) should be noted that the Wangxian is background and the primary focus is on LWJ and Jiang Cheng having lots of emotions coming out sideways at each other

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14. Hey, guys. Hope you're having a great day. ITMF some Wen Ning POV/Wen Ning-centric stuff @thispatternismine

🔒 The Moon Reflected Upon Two Springs by Rubberduckieassassin (M, 2k, Post-Canon, Fierce Corpse WN, WN-centric, Farmer WN, WN Needs a Hug, Gusu Lan Juniors Dynamics, Good Kid LSZ, Good Kid LJY, Wen Remnants Mentioned, Burial Mounds Settlement Days Mentioned, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Five Stages of Grief, Melancholy, Building A Home, Family Feels, WN is learning how to 'live' again)

🔒 do not go gentle by RoseThorne (G, 684, WN & WQ, WN & WWX, LSZ & WQ, Canonical Character Death, Spirits, Ghosts, LWJ Plays Inquiry, Song: Inquiry, Protectiveness, Grief/Mourning, Love, Acceptance, Family, Angst, Post-Canon, POV Third Person, POV Wen Ning)

Tea with the Unquiet Dead by treemaidengeek (G, 1k, SL & WN, Grief/Mourning, Post-Canon, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, finding healing in unexpected places, Fierce Corpse Friends!)

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15. For the next ITMF, are there any fics where Lan Wangji comes to terms/wrestles with his darker sexual desires?

Come Back to Gusu… by AitchNKay (E, 90k, wangxian, WIP, Major Character Death, Fluff and Smut, Drama & Romance, Angst, Fix-It, Canon Compliant, Anal Sex, BL,, Switching, Bottom LWJ) Currently less than halfway through this one & it's a WIP so not sure how it goes, but has scenes of LWJ worrying about if his desires are too fucked up

💖 Magical Marriage Ribbons Series by starandrea (Varies, 1m, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Accidental Marriage, Fluff, Happy Ending, Telepathic bond, Kink Negotiation, Family Drama, Magical Pregnancy, Dual Cultivation, Shapeshifters, Modern with Magic, Immortality, Yilling Wei Sect) has LWJ continuously struggling to vocalize nearly ANY of his sexual wants even well after wangxian get together

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16. Hi! ITMF your favourite recommendations with LWJ being petty and pouty (maybe bratty too?) - modern AUs and modern with magic are preferred. Thank you <3

Sorry! Just to add on to last ask petty LWJ ITMF ask --> Judgy LWJ reccs please.

the soft animal of your body by sysrae (T, 15k, wangxian, modern cultivation, Golden Core Reveal, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Animal Transformation, Shapeshifting, Getting Together, Confessions)

with you, I am home by tellthemstories (M, 47k, wangxian, Modern Cultivation, fake dating for reasons, Meeting the Family, There Was Only One Bed, Casual Domesticity, wwx is oblivious in more ways than one, 'this fic is like emotional edging’, this comment sums up the entire fic)

i really want to know (who are you) by Stratisphyre (M, 19k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, Modern with Magic, Golden Core Reveal Single Dad WWX, Reasonable Authority Figure LQR, Allusions to violence and murder, Hospitalization)

The Twelve Days of Christmas, OR, How to Drive Your Brother-in-Law Insane by Following One Traditional Carol by Hobbsy3 (T, 3k, wangxian, Fluff, Crack Treated Seriously, Twelve Days Of Christmas, sending someone six geese and seven swans is definitely not an act of love, OR IS IT, Christmas Fluff, JC is So Done, LWJ is a Little Shit, Modern) Ooh! One more for 16 (it's a Christmas fic but features a very hilarious and petty Lan Zhan)

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17. Hi Hi i'm looking for two sets of fics a) lan qiren time travel fics where he's good and actually likes Wei Wuxian or atleast let's their relationship happen b) kid fics where wwx and lwj have a lot of children adoption or birth or a mixture of both but just them having a lot of children. @thatperson0-0

17A)

Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing)

in stillness, clear water to the bottom by Stratisphyre (T, 40k, CSSR/LQR/WCZ, NHS's Mom/Sect leader Nie/NMJ's Mom, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Threesome - M/M/F, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Background WangXian, Everyone lives/Nobody dies, (mostly), (not you qingheng-jun), Family feelings, Minor NieLan, Madam Lan lives, references to past rape)

17B)

❤️ Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste for williedustice (T, 36k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Adoption, Family Fluff, Kid fic, Family drama, Fluff, 🔒[PODFIC] Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste by lunatique)

travelers through the empty gate by stiltonbasket (M, 107k, wangxian, royalty au, mistaken identity, emperor WWX, poor LWJ, forced marriage, (by LWJ himself), confused WWX, parenthood, misunderstandings, empress LWJ, fluff & humor, married life, angst w/ happy ending, WIP)

The Wei Family Series by Setari (T, 65k, wangxian, WWX & OCs, Kid Fic, Canon Rewrite, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, Family Feels, POV Multiple, Next Generation Original Characters, Subverted Blame the Bastard Trope, Miscarriage Scare, Horny Teenagers, Hopeful Ending, Crack Treated Seriously, Oblivious WWX, Pining LWJ, Not As Dark As The Tags Make It Sound, 5+1 Things, set during the 13 years Wei Wuxian is dead, POV Original Character, Fix-It, Not Everyone Dies AU, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Work In Progress)

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 2 years

Text

👑Being Seijoh's Manager👑

Lesbian Manager Edition

Seijoh featuring Karasuno 👀 x Female Manager

Warnings: fluff, I didn't even out Swearing 😱

AN: This is an Anon request! This is an lgbtqia+ friendly fic 🏳️‍🌈

🌠 Please Like, Reblog and/or Share to help support my writing 🌠

This one has been HIGHLY anticipated 😏

And I'm unsure if it's because of our resident lesbian manager

Or because we get to bully Oikawa 🤣

Im gonna go with both 🥰

Anyways, let's get started!

Now you weren't exactly secretive about your sexuality

You just didn't feel the need to flaunt it

Like SOME PEOPLE 🙄

Oikawa constantly needing to be surrounded by his adoring fan girls 😒

Anyways, from the start it was pretty clear you had no interest in any of the guys

Sure they found you attractive

And I mean, heck they are attractive as hell

But there just wasn't anything there

All of them understood the memo

Except for one 🙃

One guess as to whom it was?

If you guessed anyone other than Oikawa, you clearly haven't read my headcannons before 🤣

But really, this man thinks he's the king of volleyball

And more importantly, he thinks everyone had a crush on him

Guys, girls, non-binary folk, you name it, this man things they all want a piece of him

Which is why your rejection makes for very entertaining content for Seijoh

Because I think they've all figured out you play for the other team

A except Oikawa

Which this scenario so hilarious

One day, you are taking notes and Oikawa approaches you

"Hey YN, I've got tickets to a concert this weekend? Wanna go with me?"- Oikawa, turning on the charm

"No thanks"- you, extinguishing said charm

Mattsun, Makki and Kunimi are all just watching

Honestly they are so nosey I can't even 💅🏼

"YN I've asked you out a million times and you've always said no! Don't you know what a privilege it is to be asked out by yours truely"- Oikawa

"Shut up loserkawa and leave YN alone"- Iwaizumi, ready and waiting for your signal to pounce

"I appreciate the offer Oikawa but I'm not interested"- you working on your notes

"BY WHY NOT YN-CHANN"- Oikawa now whining

"😐 I'm gay Oikawa"- you, channeling Ushi and stating at Oikawa

Oikawa 👉🏻👁👄👁 whet-

Makki, Mattsun and Kunimi 👉🏻🤣💀

Iwaizumi 👉🏻🙄🤚🏻🏐👦

"IWA CHAN PLEASE IM HEARTBROKEN"- Oikawa

"In order for you to be heartbroken, you would have actually had to have a chance Oikawa"- You getting up and walking away 🚶‍♀️

You better ask Oikawa if he needs some ointment for that BURN

After that, Oikawa silently competes eith you for the attention of his female fans

Not that you even need to compete 💅🏼 you could have any of them

But they aren't your type

But you know who your type is 👀👀

A certain crow manager that's who 🙌🏻

So when you are filling water bottles up and the gorgeous Kiyoko enters your vision

You all but see stars 🤩

Please Kiyoko is an absolute goddess 🤚🏻

"Hi there! I'm Kiyoko, I manage Karasuno"

"I'm YN, I managed Oikawa, I mean Seijoh"

Please her laugh 😭😭😭

You know, the season 4 laugh when she's in the bath with Yachi 👇🏻

Say less she's utter perfection

Unfortunately for you, you will have to deal with her two wards bodyguards

"Kiyoko come to my arms sweet mama!!"- Noya all but running towards you and Kiyoko

Suddenly he stops ✋️ Tanaka running into his back

"Holy crap- we've hit the jackpot!"- Tanaka

"There's one for each of us"- Noya 😍

Please Kiyoko smack them

It has been dealt with ☺️

That is, until your own resident idiot approaches 🙄

"Yn-chan are these delinquents bothering you"- Oikawa followed by Iwa and the gang

"No"- You 😐

Channeling Iwa 😌

Thank you sir for your dedication 🤗

Before you and Kiyoko part with your respective idiots, you shot your shoot

"Hey could I get your number? I think it'd be cool if we could hand out?"- You to Kiyoko

"Oh absolute! Give me your phone and I'll punch it in"- kiyoko

You exchange phones

"I texted myself 😉 see you later YN"- Kiyoko

You look down at your phone at kiyokos text

"Hey there cutie 💓 "

Please everyone is just watching you right now and taking notes 📝

"Damn that was smooth Yn"- Mattsun

How did you do that YN?"- Oikawa

Tanaka and Noya are just staring 👁👄👁

There's no way I could be THAT EASY

"It's easy Oikawa, I'm just polite"- you, turning to walk back to the gym

"Wow"- Oikawa, stunned 😲

Not YN the resident dating guru 🤣

Please Terushima is probably watching you too 😭

What can you say, it comes natural ☺️

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mortifiedatbeingknown · 8 months

Text

"An Odd Little Thing" (Pt. 13)

Masterpost:

It was only mid-morning, and already the degrees were climbing past ninety. The sun burned overhead, beating anyone unlucky enough to be caught in its rays with merciless abandon.

And she, as the only idiot unlucky enough to be caught out in the heat with a jacket zipped up to her neck, was boiling alive.

“Sweaty.” Her robot grumbled from inside her hoodie.

“Oh you’re complaining?” She snapped back. “You’re the one who’s making me wear this!”

Her backpack bounced along, empty and light. It would’ve been the perfect place to carry him, but as always, the robot refused to ride in it.

Every single time…

She raised up her mask and pulled down her goggles as she approached the first trash heaps. For her less glamorous scavenging sites, this was for safety reasons. She wasn’t about to breathe or blink in anything toxic any time soon. But here? In the rich side of the city? That was for a different reason. She didn’t want anyone to see her face as she scrounged around their garbage like a sewer rat. The shame was what kept her from visiting too often; only every couple of weeks or so. She didn’t show up often enough to be considered a nuisance, and the rich folks who lived here refrained from having her arrested on the count of theft, loitering, and public disturbance. It was as civil a relationship as she could ever hope to have.

Besides, for as little as she cared for these trips, they usually rendered her the best components. For those who could afford to replace and throw away rather than fix and make do, it was honestly quite shocking what they considered worthy of throwing away. It was her go-to place for modern parts and high-quality wiring, also fresh tools if she was lucky enough. If she wanted to search for OLI model components, this was the only real place to look.

“Alright, out you go.” She said as she unzipped her jacket. The robot practically hopped out, and she had to scramble to catch it before it could crash onto the ground.

“H-hey! Watch it!”

The robot ignored her. “S-s-s-so we g-gonna look now?”

“That’s the plan.” She set her backpack flat on the ground and sat the robot on top of it. “But first, some rules.”

“R-rules?”

“Yes. Number 1–” She held up a finger. The robot copied her. “Be quiet. We don’t want anyone throwing us out. If you find anything, let me know, but you don’t have to yell. Got it?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” The robot held up a second finger. “Number 2!”

“Number 2–” She continued. “Is simple.”

And without another word she reached into her pocket.

**************************

He stared, fully attentive, as the monster pulled out a long roll of red wire from a pocket in her overalls.

“This..” She said. “Is your leash. You don’t take it off, for anything. Got it?”

…L-leash?!

He was so shocked he could hardly twitch as the monster tied the wire round and round his shoulders, and then around his waist, tying it off with thick strong knots. Even then, he couldn’t believe it. A leash. A leash…

…She wasn’t planning on abandoning him here at all!

It was silly to worry about. He’d known it been silly, even when stuck inside her jacket waiting as the garbage grew closer and closer. He hadn’t thought she would, not deeply, especially all the work she’d done on him. But what if he got lost? Or if she forgot him, even though she didn’t mean to? What if he got buried under a pile of trash and couldn’t dig himself out? And what—

“OK, that should be it.” The monster rechecked all the knots, and then tied the other end of the leash to her belt. “That should be plenty of distance for you. Does it feel comfortable?”

He kicked his legs, wiggled his waist, flailed his arms. “Y-yes, yes!”

“Good. You take one side, I’ll take the other. Focus on the trashbags. If you find anything on your radar, dig it out. And don’t go falling into the dumpsters!”

With that, she stuffed two earbuds into her ears and got to work. His audio sensors detected faint music coming from them. He turned as well, activating his scanners.

Top priority: Voice box.

As he opened the first bag, he was suddenly very glad that he did not have a sense of smell.

*********************************

He’d been so engrossed in his work he almost hadn’t heard it. Two hours, and three different alleys later, the monster had a bag half full of parts for her workshop, and he’d found a new cooling system, several spare limbs if he ever needed them, and best of all, a brand-new–

“Ollie!”

The voice was a hushed, urgent whisper, chillingly familiar. He paused, and then dug deeper into the bag, trying to pretend that maybe if he didn’t hear it, if he didn’t listen, it would go away.

“Ollie, come here?”

And then a hand yanked back his leash until he was dangling in the air.

“Hey, look! You’re all fixed now!”

“Aren’t you cute?!”

He kicked his legs helplessly as he stared into the eyes of his two former masters. One with her hair in two high pigtails, the other in two low ones. That’s how you told them apart. Other than that they were exactly the same in any way.

“OK!, now we got him, let’s get out of here!” One hissed.

Out?

“Don’t!” He cried, kicking his legs harder.

“Oh don’t be such a baby!”

“Come on, help me get this stupid thing off!”

Their fingers swarmed over him, touching and grabbing and reaching as they tried to unwork the knots. He tried to squirm and push, but the grip was too tight. When he pinched at a hand, the hand slapped back.

“Don’t! Don’t!”

But they didn’t stop. They never stopped. They just kept swarming, and the only thing that kept him from getting taken where that the knots tied too tightly. They couldn’t break him out. The monster had kept him…

Monster.

“Monster!” He screamed, as loud as he could. His masters flinched, sharing worried glances first at each other, and then at the figure behind him. His monster. His precious, precious monster, who was so busy she had not noticed anything going on behind her.

“Monster, help!” His voice box peaked with the effort, audio straining and gargling in a vain effort to produce the volume he wanted. The volume he needed. One more final, desperate shriek… and it broke for good. His voice cracked and shattered into garbled static.

No!

He crashed hard on the ground, thrown by one of his masters and stomped for good measure. One of his optics… his fresh, new, expensive optics… cracked anew.

“Now look at what you’ve done! You’re going to–”

He shielded himself from another blow. No. No. It wasn’t going to end like this. His monster was right there.

And she was the only one who could help him now.

As the hands came back down to pick him up again, he dodged, swatting them away. When they tried again. He threw himself on the ground and rolled, like a ball until his legs could work, and when they did, he ran.

“What are you doing?!”

“Come back!”

An order. If he was still theirs… he would’ve obeyed. He would’ve had too, it was built into his very code. But they weren’t… not anymore. Not when their last order was to sit still and let them throw him away. He yanked at his leash as hard as he could, wishing he was stronger, wishing he was heavier, wishing he was big enough to make more of a difference.

But he wasn’t. Not really. Just Ollie. A children’s toy. Useless. Unwanted. Not fun to play with.

But as he crashed into his monster’s leg and yanked her pant leg with enough force to send her stumbling to attention as she yelped out in surprise, just being Ollie was enough.

#robot whump #whump #whumpee #whump writing #reluctant caretaker #odd little thilng

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aquadestinyswriting · 5 months

Text

Seven Snippets, Seven People

I got tagged for this ages ago by @druidx, and again more recently by @athenswrites. I think I do have seven snippets, so let's get this started. Placing said snippets under a cut to save peoples' dashes. I might have shared a couple of these previously, but I wanted to share them again, just because.

No Pressure tags: @sparrow-orion-writes , @warriorbookworm, @mariahwritesstuff, @ashirisu, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds, @freedominique

The sight of the shining white, if somewhat cracked and charred, marble of Toreguarde seemed like a far distant memory to the majority of the adventuring party who had just landed in front of the city gates.The owl archons that had transported the motley group of humanoids, single dragon and large awakened wolf bowed deeply and flew back up into the swiftly closing portal above.

“Down p’ease.” he stated, already leaning away from his mother in anticipation of his request being granted. Meredith huffed another sigh as she readjusted her grip and hauled the little man back towards her, “Not yet, Gavid.” she said patiently, “It’s busy, and I don’t want ye getting lost before we’ve even got to where we’re staying.” Gavid simply pouted and grumbled some more, crossing his chubby little arms defiantly, “Not get lost.” he muttered, “I a big boy.” Meredith bit back her chuckle and hugged the little boy, "I know ye are Gavid, but folks round here are a lot bigger than back home. I'll let ye down when we get to where we're staying, aye?" All she got in response was a huffy ‘harrumph’ while her son sulked.

Tick, scrape, tick, scrape, tick.... Selene’s brow twitched as she stared at the mechanical monstrosity that was now sitting on the dresser in the master bedroom of the cottage she and Edwin shared. Why, in all the Gods’ names was there a timekeeper in here?! Edwin poked his head around the door from the corridor outside, “Alright, I managed to find Bridget’s boot. It was stuffed under…” he trailed off, brows bunching together as he looked up only to see his partner glaring daggers at the silvered clockwork item. Selene shifted her gaze to the door, her eyes narrowing further upon seeing the perplexed expression under Edwin’s beard, “Edwin, why is this in here?” she asked, gesturing to the timekeeper with a nod of her head, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

Selene huffed as she looked out of the window at the rain outside. She had rather been hoping it would stop so that Caitr could spend some time outdoors and properly burn off the energy she still had in abundance. The Arcane Librarian was brought out of her thoughts by a muttering voice in her ear, “Stupid godsdamned idiot of a man…” Dwena’s voice grumbled through the Whisper spell. Selene bit back her snort as she replied, “Which one?” she asked, “I mean, I can help you if it’s Thaddeus or Thazaar but not so much if it’s your husband.” The auburn haired wizard could practically see Dwena rolling her eyes, “No, it’s the new divination specialist, he’s pretty full of himself.” came the reply, “In any case, Thazaar’s called an emergency meeting and asked me to get hold of you.”

"So mind telling me why you didn't want to go to Arborea?" Elowyn looked to Meredith, who was leaning back in her seat. The Woodling quickly looked back to the view out of the tavern window, feeling a flush of embarrassment on her ears. Meredith grinned widely, propping her elbows on the table, chin resting on her knuckles, "So, have ye actually been back to see her again yet, or are ye trying to avoid bumping into her again?"Elowyn almost spat out the water she'd just taken a sip of. She quickly swallowed the liquid, somehow managing to avoid choking as she turned to glare at the smirking dwarf, "I'm not -- how did you. --?" She stammered, before flinging a napkin in Meredith's face. Meredith simply laughed, "While I ken that ye're still as embarrassed about the damn 'livin' saint' thing as I am; I do remember being told ye had to visit the place again with the others at one point. All I did was put two an' two together." She pointed out. Elowyn huffed, but couldn't quite manage to stay annoyed at the woman beaming at her from across the table,

“Abouna, you’re staring.” The mild-mannered voice of the Woodling matriarch startling Edwin out of his reverie. He blinked and tore his gaze away from where the Grand Magus had just exited the office and looked down at the greying woman. Oakrose placed the book in her arms on the table and looked over to the door, “I must admit, it’s nice to have Selene come round more often again. Poor love’s not really been over so much since Alexis up and left.” Edwin tried to ignore the guilty pang in his gut at the statement, and instead focused his attention on the parchment in front of him, “She’s probably just making sure I’m settled in alright. I’m amazed she’s found the time, given everything going on.” he replied smoothly. Oakrose shrugged and fluffed up some cushions on the chair next to the fireplace, “If you say so Abouna.” she said, “Now, give us a holler if you need anything. And might I suggest that next time you take to staring at the Grand Magus, you focus your attention a little higher.” she added, smirking to herself and humming as she left. Once the middle-aged Woodling was gone, Edwin let his head fall onto the desk with a hefty ‘thump’, his ears burning and turning an interesting shade of maroon, “Galana preserve.” he groaned, “Do all Woodlings have eyes as sharp as Alexis?” he muttered.

“I’m sorry, but we can only allow those who truly follow the Earth Mother entry, you’ll need to find help elsewhere. Good day.” Morag huffed a distressed sigh and shook her head as the old cleric who’d opened the door of the local temple of Throff went to close it. She jerked her head up as Gruk growled and Hilde made a noise of protest. The smith’s hand shot out and held the door firm, “Ye want proof that we’re not just some filthy Moradhir here to ruin yer day by reminding ye that Kherillim loves all her children, ‘true’ worshippers or no?” he asked. He raised his voice and straightened his back as the cleric glared at him, “I am Gruk, son of Ovak son of Garuld and I claim the heritage of the Stonespeaker clan, the unbroken lineage Blessed by Kherillim Herself. Now let us in before I end up doin’ something we’ll both end up regretting!” Morag blinked. Of course she’d heard that Gruk’s father had been adopted, but to claim the name of an extinct clan? She glanced over to Hilde, who was nodding fervently along with her father’s speech, “An’ if you need some actual, paper proof, here!” she added, pulling a thick roll of parchment from out of her pack and thrusting it into the cleric’s hands. She shrugged as the rest of her family sent her puzzled looks, “What? Auld Derek had it out anyway. I think this is the amended one he’d been working on after Merri handed that old journal to him.” she added. Gruk rolled his eyes at his oldest daughter, returning his attention to the cleric, who’s eyes had widened, “Th- that’s not possible. The Stonespeaker line were all executed by decree of King Jotunn during the last set of Purges.” he stammered. He looked back up at Gruk, most of the colour draining from his face. Gruk snorted, “Then d’ye mind telling Throff that? Because, apparently, She’s seen fit to Mark ma youngest daughter and I’m no’ exactly happy about that either.”

#writeblr tag games #seven snippets seven people #writeblr community #titan fighting fantasy

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theratboyking · 1 year

Text

Softly Into The Night

Chapter Four: If You Choose To Run Away With Me.

Pairing: Cardinal Copia/Reader/Papa Emeritus iii (this will also have eventual Copia/Terzo but that won't be for a while)(This is also a slow burn so it's gonna be a while until we even get here)

Word Count: 5.9k

Summary: Demons are real, angels exist, and my father is the Prince of Darkness. A dream I can’t seem to wake up from. And two mysterious strangers that seem to have a connection to me. What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter Summary: The bench sat underneath the huge tree that was situated in the middle of the abbey, calling my name. Flopping onto it, I startle Jasper, who lands on the spot next to me. I stare up at the sky, letting my mind escape from the expectations that have been placed on me. Closing my eyes, the cold winter’s air hit my face, wishing Terzo or Copia were here; maybe I wouldn’t feel as lost as I did.

“What’s this?” A newcomer broke the garden’s silence, accent thick, “A visitor?”

Warnings: 18+ (this is going to get be a wild ride folks,) Slow burn, Idiots in love, kinda soulmates? poorly translated Italian (I am sorry to all the Italians out there) fluff, angst, this is a ghost fic so you know religious trauma, some chapters will like get kinda deep in the religious philosophy but maybe not depending on the direction this goes, eventual smut (Chapter will be labeled) This chapter has some horror elements and is kinda graphic, there is also some smut in this one so buckle up folks.

AO3 Link

<-Previous____Next->

I forgot, I made a playlist if anyone interested :)

Gasps and labored breaths fill the small space. We were an entanglement of limbs. I could not tell you where we started and where the other ended. Each touch was possessive, desperate even. Afraid that the other would disappear if we stopped. It was only growing with intensity as time went on. They were both lazily thrusting into me. Terzo’s lips found their way to mine, quickly taking charge as his tongue explored my mouth. I could feel Copia kissing up my neck, biting at the exposed skin. I couldn't help the shameful moan that left my throat.

“Ahh cara, always so good for your papas.” Copia’s hot breath on my ear caused shivers down my spine. The knot in my stomach grows with each thrust they do. My hands made their way into both men's hair, already messy from the previous night.

“Are you close amore mio? So desperate for us to fill you up with our seed? Aren’t you bellissima dea?” He thrust into me harder, his cock twitching with each snap of his hips.

I break myself from Terzo’s grip to face Copia, smashing our lips together. His thrust falters for just a second as he moans into the kiss. Terzo growls, taking Copia’s place, leaving as many marks in his wake as possible. His hot breath sent chills down my spine.

“Cum for us, tesoro. Cum all over my cock.” The sounds escaping my mouth are downright sinful.

By now, both men had picked up speed, losing the rhythm they had previously set. They were close, and fuck. I was not far behind. I was entirely at their mercy and loved every second of it. It was too intoxicating. They filled me in a way I didn’t know was possible. There was no way everyone in the Abbey didn’t know what we were doing. The sinful moans escaping each of us were only getting louder the higher we got.

So fucking close…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The blaring sound of my alarm clock snaps me out of my slumber. Bells sound off from the tower, thundering throughout the abbey, waking me from my restless sleep. A deep need for release rested in my stomach. Groaning, I roll over. This was the third one this week. My dreams seem to alternate between the nightmares I’ve had since I got here and the kind of a more sinful nature. After what happened in the garden, they seem to be the ones that have taken over my subconscious lately. Always ending right before the climax, leaving me breathless and needy in the morning light.

Not that I was complaining. No, that was the furthest thing. It was getting harder to look Copia and Terzo in the eyes without blushing like a schoolgirl; it was getting worse than it was already. In my time here, our relationship had only grown, and it was getting harder and harder to pretend I wasn’t absolutely in love with them. It’s just that the longer I stay here–stay with them–the more I can’t help but wish that they were just more than dreams.

A groan escapes me as I flop onto my back. Still trying to catch my breath, debating if I had enough time to do something about the need I was feeling between my legs or not. The morning sun was beginning to stream through my window. The cold January air overtook my room since the fire died the night before. My body felt like it was on fire. I couldn’t help but let my thoughts wander back to them; what we would get up to on mornings like this. My hands start to make their way down my body.

A frustrated groan escapes me at the sound of someone knocking at my door.

“Your Highness? Are you up?” the muffled voice of Nova. “You’ll be late for your lesson if you don’t hurry up.”

What time is it? Looking towards the clock. 6:02.

“Fuck. Coming. I’m coming!”

Shit, Secondo is gonna kill me if I’m late again. Falling out of bed, I go around the room, looking for everything I need for the day. I have a little over ten minutes to make it over to the other side of the Abbey where Secondo’s office was.

“I’m late, I’m late,” I repeated over and over, trying to make myself presentable for my lessons. I could practically feel my grave being made. I gathered my bag and shoved the heavy books Secondo had assigned me to read into it. I rushed out the door. Nova followed quickly behind, laughing at my antics.

The relationship between Nova and me had improved drastically. He had somewhat turned into an older brother I didn’t even know I needed. I sure as hell didn’t want it, but he had warmed his way into my heart. I like to think I did the same for him.

The faces of siblings blurred together as we ran down the halls, many laughing at the sight before them. It was starting to become a common thing to see us running through the halls. Trying not to face Secondo’s wrath. You would think the supernatural powers would help, but no. After that night with Terzo, many of the superhuman qualities I could do ceased. In fact, it felt like most of my progress had stopped altogether.

I was having a hard time keeping them under control. I couldn't tell you how many things I had broken around the abbey. We won’t even mention when I accidentally set the curtains in Secondo’s office on fire. I can still see his face lit with rage as I desperately tried to put it out. I’m honestly not sure if I ever will get it under control, and I was exhausted from constantly using them - trying to control them. It was really starting to show how burnt out I was.

The final chime of the bells hung heavy in the air as I rounded the corner. Secondo stood in front of his office door, arms crossed over his chest, an unimpressed look on his face at the sight of me. “I’m here!” I’m out of breath when I reach his office doors, Nova stopping behind me.

“You're late.” His arms were crossed over his chest, face unreadable. “Good morning, Nova.”

“Good morning, sir.” I could see him waving out of the corner of my eye. “Good luck,” he grasped my shoulder, shaking me slightly as he began to walk away, not wanting to be around when Secondo began his usual rant. I shoot him a pleading look, hoping he will take pity on me. He only shot me a thumbs up as he rounded the corner shouting over his shoulder, “I will see you at lunch.”

I look back at Secondo; he has not looked away from me. A stone-cold glare sends a shiver down my spine, and I gulp. “Actually, I was here before the final chime, so therefore, I am, in fact, on time.” my weak attempt to defend myself fell on deaf ears. His expression remained unchanged as he walked into his office.

“Did you even do the reading I had assigned you last night?”

Maybe I can play this off? “I’m hurt, Papa; truly, you wound me.” I gasp, faking hurt. He looked at me suspiciously, head tilting slightly as if to say ‘really.’ Fuck he isn’t buying it. “No, I didn't.” My body deflates as I sigh in defeat, preparing for him to give me my scolding.

It wasn’t like I didn’t try to do the reading, but when Terzo offered to walk through his brother’s garden, I just couldn’t say no, especially when he gave me his puppy dog eyes that made it almost impossible to say no. Copia is no help, either. In fact, he somehow got pulled away from his paperwork to join us as well, also falling victim to Terzo. When we returned to my room, I was practically dead on my feet. All the early mornings and the intense training were starting to catch up on me. I couldn't help the yawn that escaped me.

“Are you even listening to a word I am saying?” Irritation is evident in his voice. He is starting to get angry.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I’m just exhausted. It won't happen again. I'm sorry.” I really was in no mood to argue. Quite honestly, I just wanted to get the day over with. At least then I could spend some time with Copia and Terzo. Another yawn escaped me as I weakly tried to cover it up.

He looks at me for a moment. His gaze softened slightly before sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You have been working hard, given the circumstances. Perhaps I have been too hard on you, piccolo.” he seemed reluctant to continue, “You're free to go for the day. Go get some rest.”

Was I hearing him right? This had to be some kind of test, “Are you sure? I’m fine, really I am…”

He cut me off, moving to sit at his desk. “Yes, I am sure. Go and rest. I will let the Cardinal know where you are when he comes.”

“Thank you, Secondo.” I exhaled, beginning to exit the room.

He only grunts, waving me off, his attention going to the papers stacked neatly in the corner of his desk.

I sigh, closing the door behind me. My feet dragged me through the Abbey, unsure where I was heading. As much as sleep called my name, I couldn't bring myself to make it back to my room.

The remaining siblings of sins bowing as I pass them by. It’s something I think I’m never going to get used to. To many of them, I was a sort of god. They had been waiting for the prophet, but it wasn’t that to me. I was just, well… well, I was me. I was my mother’s daughter. I don’t think I will ever be my father’s princess.

I don’t know what led me outside. It felt like my feet were moving on their own as I wandered out the abbey doors. My feet led me down the now familiar trial. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the vague figure of Nova and a few other ghouls doing chores around the Abbey.

He must have noticed me, calling my name. He shoots me a thumbs up. One I can only respond by mouthing, ‘Day off.’ He didn’t seem convinced, but another ghoul grabbed his attention before he could do anything about it. Giving me enough time to sneak away. My thoughts were running wild.

Was I really the one everyone said I was? I can’t even manage to catch a single candle on fire anymore, let alone protect myself from whatever was out there. Was I really the daughter of a king of hell? I sigh, kicking a pebble along the stone passageway. Maybe I really should go take that nap. I could practically hear the worry of both the boys if I showed up in the state that I was in—telling me how I was working way too hard.

The sudden cry of ravens interrupted my thought, startling me from my trance. Finally, looking up. The bright colors of the oldest Emeritus brother's garden were covered with spots of midnight blue—a swarm of ravens took residence around the gate.

I cautiously walk to the gates–my curiosity getting the better of me. The cries of the birds getting louder the closer I get to them. Only quieting when I reach the gates, many of them flying away, save one.

“Hey there, buddy.” Jasper beams up at me, tilting his head to the side. He looked like he was surprised I was there.

“Yeah, I know, it's a bit early for me to be out here.” He jumps up, flapping his wings, landing on my shoulder with a cry, “ Fancy a walk around the garden with me?”

“Caw!”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” I laugh out, opening the gate–beginning my walk through the gardens.

There was something about this place that was just so calming. It felt like something out of a novel, removed from the gothic nature of the abbey itself. Since Copia and Terzo brought me here, I often stopped here. It was slowly becoming my haven from everything else—a place to think and clear my thoughts.

“It must be nice being able to fly away whenever you want.” I turn my head slightly so that I can look at him. “I personally miss it.” I look back out into the sky. The clouds passing over the sun give even more shade on a peaceful day.

“Do you have anywhere you go when you're not here, Jasper? Or are you stuck here like me?” Closing my eyes, taking in the moment, enjoying the peace and quiet, “But then again, you are free to come and go as you please.”

The bench sat underneath the huge tree that was situated in the middle of the abbey, calling my name. Flopping onto it, I startle Jasper, who lands on the spot next to me. I stare up at the sky, letting my mind escape from the expectations that have been placed on me. Closing my eyes, the cold winter’s air hit my face, wishing Terzo or Copia were here; maybe I wouldn’t feel as lost as I did.

“What’s this?” A newcomer broke the garden’s silence, accent thick, “A visitor?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t know anyone else was here.” I stand ready to leave, not in the mood to talk to anyone.

“No, please stay. I did not mean to disturb you. I just returned from a rather long trip last night and wished to see my gardens.”

I finally look up at the newcomer. He looked oddly familiar. He looked like an older version of Secondo, with hints of Terzo. He was dressed in an old band shirt and what looked like jeans. He had short white hair that was combed back. Was this the oldest Emeritus brother?

“Ahh, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting yet, your highness. My brothers speak rather highly of you.” He smiled down at me. “Papa Emeritus i at your service.”

“Nice to meet you papa.”

“Primo is just fine. I have never been one for formalities.” He had a welcoming smile, beckoning me to reclaim my seat, “Now, what brings you to my garden?”

“That’s a long story.”

“I have time, mia signora.” He takes a seat next to me.

Sighing, I look out at the garden. Despite the cold weather, the lilies were in bloom, an off shade of white that was a stark contrast to the dark greens and browns. “I have no idea what I’m doing…”

He laughs softly, “I don’t think anyone ever does mia signora”

“No, I don’t know what I’m doing. No one knows what I’m supposed to do. I’ve been thrown into this with nothing, and I still have nothing… One day I woke up, and my whole life changed. I wouldn't change it for the world. I’ve found a place where I feel like I belong, but what if I’m not what everyone thought I would be? What if Sister was right about me? I’m flying blind and scared that someone will get hurt because of me.” I pause for a second, taking a deep breath trying to stop myself from crying, “Even if I wanted to leave, I can’t. I’m being hunted, and I’m scared that eventually, I’m going to lead them here…” I could feel my eyes welling up with tears.

“I would say, given everything, you’re handling it rather well. I can only imagine how much this all is on you.” He places a hand on my shoulder.

“Oh, to be quite honest with you, I’m fucking terrified. All of this is so crazy, yet it’s happening.” I laugh in disbelief, “This is not where I thought my life would lead me. I thought I would still be running. I’ve always been running - ever since I was a kid. I ran from who I am. What I am. But being told it’s either face them or you’ll die. I just…” I take a shaky breath. Tears started to fall down my face. “At that moment, I just… I just couldn’t die yet… For the first time in my life, I can’t run anymore, and I’m fucking terrified.” I couldn’t help but laugh even more, vigorously rubbing the tears in my eyes.

He didn’t say anything. He only offered me a comforting smile. Standing from his seat, offering me his outstretched hand. He radiated a different energy from his brothers. He was calmer in a way. Like he’s lived life more and knew all the answers to it. I take his hand. We walk through the garden.

“What's even more terrifying is that I’m not entirely sure I want to run. I’ve made friends here and come to care deeply for people here, which makes it all worse. I could get them hurt. Or worse, killed.” The words die in my throat, finally admitting what scares me the most. What if I got Terzo and Copia killed?

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. He looked to be deep in thought, debating what to say. Then, leading me through the garden, he finally speaks, “When I was a young man, no older than you are now, I was placed in a position I never particularly wanted: a church to run and two younger brothers who always seemed to get into trouble. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I wouldn’t have made it through it if it wasn't for my wife.” There was a fond smile on his face. He gazed at the flowers with a far-off look in his eyes. “Now, I will not pretend that I know what you’re going through, but I will say that it is easier when you have others to go through life with you.”

“Everyone has been so nice to me, save for a few…” I don’t know what compelled me to continue, “How would I even tell them…”

There was a knowing smile on his face. “Forgive me if I overstep, mia signora. But you just do.” That was a lot easier said than done.

The gates of the garden come into view. A sigh escaped me; I really didn’t want to face the world at the moment. I didn’t want to face the judgment of the siblings around me; I didn’t want to see the icy stare of Sister Imperator. I didn’t want to face the regal nature the ghouls placed on me. All I wanted was to crawl under my blanket and stay there for a while.

As if sensing my discomfort, Primo put his hand on my shoulder, offering me a reassuring smile, “I think you will find it a lot easier than you think.” His other hand going to point in the direction of the Abbey. I could vaguely make out a figure walking toward us.

“Cara, there you are. Papa said you would be in your room…” Copia’s worried-filled voice hits me before I see him. “Terzo…” He notices Primo standing beside me, “I mean Papa, and I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“I’m sorry, Copia I…”

Primo cuts me off, “It was my fault Cardinal. I saw her excellence walking through the hall, and given that I have not had the chance to meet the antichrist yet, I thought I would give her a tour of my garden. I’m sorry for any inconvenience.”

“No need to apologize, your eminence. Her Majesty and I usually have lunch with your brother. We were worried something happened when she wasn’t in her room; Papa said she would be there.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see another figure approaching us quickly. Terzo was coming in hot, not particularly caring that the siblings looked at him like he had three heads. He came crashing into Copia, grabbing his arm to steady himself.

“There you are. You had us worried, tesoro.” He pulled me into his arms, not caring that his brother was standing right before us.

“Good to see you, Gabriele.” Primo’s voice was warm.

“Marco. I hope your flight went well. How is Elizabeth?”

“Yes, we just landed this morning.” He paused, looking fondly at his younger brother, “Beth is well. She is currently sleeping off the flight.” He turns his attention back to me, “Speaking of, I should probably check on her. My wife was never one for flying. It was Nice to meet you finally, your majesty. Til next time.” He takes my hand, kissing me on top of my knuckles, turning to leave. For such an old man, he moved quickly and with purpose.

“It was nice meeting you as well.” I wave in his direction. The boys and I turned to make our way to the abbey. I hope we didn’t miss lunch I was oddly hungry after the morning I had. It was quiet for a moment before it hit me.

“Gabriele?” I question, looking to Terzo, “You mean to tell me your first name isn’t Terzo!”

“No one really calls me that except for mia madre and this old bat.” He looks to the ground, slightly embarrassed. If it wasn’t for his makeup hiding it, I was almost positive he was blushing.

“I like it.” Rubbing his arm, the Abbey doors coming into view, “Next thing you’re going to tell me is that Copia isn’t his first name.”

“It’s not.” Terzo was quick to throw in, ready to bring Copia down with him.

“Don't you dare, you rat!” Copia throws his finger in his face turning a light pink.

“No, please come on. I wanna know!”

“Yes, Antonio. Do share.”

“Antonio!”

“Bastardo!” Terzo lets go of my arm. Copia chasing after him, fist raised in the air.

I laugh at my boys' antics, “Gabriele and Antonio.” tasting their names on my lips, liking how they roll off my tongue. I couldn't help but look at them fondly as Copia chased Terzo through the courtyard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I threw my hands up in defense.

“Oh, come on, it’s obvious with anyone with eyes. Tell me!” Nova sat with his legs crossed in front of me.

I groan, flopping backward into my bed. The night had taken an unexpected turn when Terzo and Copia had a bunch of paperwork they couldn’t get rid of, and Nova had volunteered to stay with me for a little bit. It was something that I was coming to regret. He had not stopped pestering me about what was bothering me. I could feel my annoyance growing with each passing moment.

“It’s only going to get worse the longer you ignore it.” he pushed further.

“What’s getting worse is the headache you're giving me.” I threw a pillow at him. It missed his figure entirely–his tail catching it, “Is it really that obvious?”

“Incredibly, the only people who don’t seem to be in on it are you three.” He throws the pillow back at me, hitting me square in the face.

“You are insane.”

“I’m a demon. It’s part of the job description.” His aura had hughes of pink mixed with a rose red pulsing through it. “It’s not my fault you’re too stubborn to admit it.”

Groaning, I look at him, “Ok, theoretically, what would I even say to them, ‘Oh hey guys, it’s me, the antichrist; just wanted to let you know that I’m in love with you…’” I pause for a second, realization hitting me like a truck.

Nova looked like a bat out of hell, ready to burst at the seams, “See! I knew it. I knew it! Omega owes me $50. Oh shit, I owe Mountain money now. Your Majesty, you have to tell them. Please. Please. Please.”

“Nova. Nova! Calm down. It’s not that simple.” I pleaded with the ghoul, hoping no one was around to hear his booming voice. It did little to calm the overactive ghoul. He stands to walk to the door.

“No, don’t!” I get up, tackling him to the ground before he can enter the main room. “Nova, they can't find out.”

“What?! Why not?”

“Because we’re friends, Nova, just friends. This would just complicate things. I just can’t lose them, Nova.”

“But you love them, don't you?” He tilts his head to the side. For a creature of hell, these ghouls were more like cats than anything else.

“Yes, I do, but it’s not that simple. This isn’t some dream. Besides, they probably don't view me as anything more than a friend.” I look down to the ground, not really wanting to have to explain this to him.

“You humans are so confusing…”

The clock on the wall chimes distracted me from sulking and interrupting Nova before he could continue. It was getting late, the perfect distraction from this conversation

“Look, Nova, it's late, I gotta get up early in the morning, and there’s still some reading I have to do.”

“Say no more. I can tell when I’m not wanted.”

“No, you can’t.” the deadpan tone causes his aura to turn sheepishly purple.

“Anyways. I’ll see you in the morning, your highness.” He gets up, ready to leave the room. Stopping just short of the door, “Listen, I know you may not think it, but maybe you should tell them. You may be surprised that they might feel the same.” the door closes.

I sigh, throwing myself onto my bed. What does he know? There was no way this could go well for anyone involved. It didn’t matter what anyone else saw; they weren’t there. They weren’t there when Copia gripped my hand, so gently tracing patterns into my skin. Or when Terzo gave me that gentle smile he only ever seemed to have when Copia or I was around. They weren’t there in the early morning hours when I called their name, chasing my release, wishing they were there instead, I was alone.

No, no one could tell me what was happening between the three of us because I wasn’t even entirely sure what was happening between us. I just knew that, at some point, they had turned into my boys and that I was completely in love with Gabriele Emeritus and Antonio Copia.

I groan, burying myself under my covers. Closing my eyes, one thought echoed around my head. I was so fucked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The halls were barren. Not a soul to be found. The halls seemed to stretch endlessly in both directions; I just couldn’t decide which would be the better bet to get the hell out of there.

“Hello?” I call to the left, hoping someone was out there. My voice bounced off the walls, sounding like hundreds of me were in the hall. “Hello!?” I call in the other direction, but still no answer.

Well, that didn’t help at all. Do I stay here and hope someone will eventually come? No, that would leave me too vulnerable. ‘Pick a direction and go with it.’ Taking a shaky breath, right it is.

My steps echoed off the halls, jumping back to meet me with an angry thud. Wherever it was looked like the Abbey, but this hall seemed endless. With each passing step I took in that direction, the longer it seemed to go. I wasn’t even sure I was making progress.

An agonizing scream filled the space. Circling me with a familiar voice, I desperately did not want to hear. “Help!”

“Terzo?” it was nothing but a whisper.

“Stop, please stop!”

“Copia!”

No, this can’t be happening. Taking off in the other direction, desperately trying to reach them. To save them. The halls still blurred together, nothing moving as I ran. It was like I was on a treadmill.

An eerie laugh boomed in the space around me. That laugh… IT was here. IT had them. Running even faster if that was possible. I could feel my body starting to change, but so were the halls around me. There was no way I would allow IT to get to them.

“Hurry, little rabbit. Lover boys may not make it if you don’t.”

“Don’t touch them!” I didn’t even recognize my voice anymore. It was distorted beyond recognition.

The sickening laugh bounced around the halls, growing louder the further I went. Everything was blurring together. I couldn't tell where I was anymore. The screams were only getting louder; my legs burned from how fast I ran. There was nothing in sight.

Suddenly an opening appeared, a break in the hallway leading into the church itself. Half the room had been destroyed. The pews were pushed to the far end of the room, and most of the windows were shattered, but no light dared enter the room; it was like the night sky was nothing but an empty void. Most of the statutes were destroyed, save the Lucifer statue that lay behind the altar slab. In the center of it all, IT stood. Limps wrapped around Terzo and Copia, keeping them in place. There was blood on IT’s blinding hands, blocking out the light it was made out of.

“Get away from them!”

“What are you going to do if I don’t, little rabbit?” IT’s voice taunted me. Tightening IT’s grip around Terzo and Copia, I could hear Terzo gasping for breath. Copia had stopped struggling.

IT takes slow short strides toward me; I take IT in. IT’s blinding light was the only light source in the room; it was like it was made from the light itself. Wings spanning close to the entire span of the altar space. IT’s body was similar to Lucifer’s. It was lanky and had long limbs that seemed to stretch out the closer IT walked toward me. This wasn’t a demon. I had never seen anything like it before. I could still hear the muffled pleas from my boys as they struggled to break free.

“Stop.” I plead, “Please just stop!”

“Why should I? I enjoy hearing such filth beg.” It took a few steps closer to me, its long limbs still holding Terzo and Copia in a vice grip. “I will never understand how Father can allow something like these two, like you, even to exist.”

IT stops before me, the voids where its eyes should be staring into my soul. “I, for one, can’t stand it anymore.” voice dropping several octaves.

The sickening sound of flesh being ripped apart filled the room, blood spilling to the floor. IT’s limbs come back to IT’s body. The unmistakable thud of bodies hitting the floor reached my ears. I stand there stunned as it steps to the side, taking pleasure from the scream that left my throat.

On the floor were Terzo’s and Copia’s bodies. Blood pooling around them. Copia’s arms ripped from his body, and his head twisted unnaturally. Terzo’s head was detached from his body, eyes still opened, looking back at me horrified. I cried out, tears flowing from my eyes, my legs giving out. IT grabbed me by my arms, pulling me up from the ground so that I was eye level with IT.

“This is only a taste of what I’m going to do to you.” IT all but whispered, “You can’t escape my little rabbit.”

It starts pulling at my arms, the pain indescribable. I scream as the world around me goes black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Copia’s P.O.V.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” The question was hurried as Terzo pulled me down the halls.

“You worry too much, caro; let’s just hope she’s not slee-...” The words died in his throat as a bloodcurdling scream reached our ears.

We stop for a moment, making eye contact–another scream soon follows. We stay for a moment longer before booking it down the hall to the sound of the scream. Only a few others lived down this hall; two weren’t in their room currently.

The realization made my legs move faster. Rounding the corner that leads to her door. Terzo must have realized what was happening, picking up his pace. Another deafening scream could be heard. Louder than before. It was definitely coming from her room. Her door came to the sight, the screaming getting louder.

Not even bothering to knock on the door, barging in. Desperately searching for her, not slowing up until we reached her bedroom. Stopping at the sight before us.

She was fast asleep, hovering a good three or four feet above her bed. Her mouth opened as a silent scream ripped through her body. Her body was not the same as when we last saw her. Her arms and legs were elongated, oxy covering most of her exposed skin, her teeth and nails sharper than anything I have ever seen before.

Terzo looked at me as if I knew what to do. I was just as lost as he was. We stand there helplessly, not uttering a word for fear it would startle her more.

With one final scream, she came crashing down onto the bed. Her form remains the same. She bolts up right, gasping for air. Looking around the room, she looked like a caged animal who had been blocked into a corner.

“What, where.”

“Bella, bella breathe. Its ok.

She threw herself into my arms, reaching her other hand out for Terzo. “I thought I lost you guys.” She managed to get out between gasps for breath. I pull her close, her tears staining my shirt.

“Nothing happened; we’re right here tesoro.” Terzo soothed her, his face resting in her hair. “What happened, amore mia?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what it means.” Her nails dug into her skin. Despite how sharp they were, they did not break the skin. “You… you were dead. You had your head ripped off your body… You had your arms ripped off… I couldn’t do anything; IT wouldn't let me…”

“Amore it’s ok, we’re ok. We’re not going anywhere.” I try to soothe her.

“But if IT finds me, finds you.”

“Shhh, it’s ok, we’re ok. Nothing is going to happen to you. We promise.” Terzo cut in. His hold on her tightened at her word. We lock eyes for a moment. A million questions were floating in his eyes; I can only imagine that mine looked the same. What was IT? What was she talking about?

“Please, don’t go. Stay” Breaking eye contact; we look back down at her. I don’t think I have ever heard her sound so broken before. The grip she held on my arm was iron tight.

“We’re not going anywhere, amore…”

She gripped us like we were her lifeline. Terzo and I make eye contact, a silent promise passing between us as we hold her impossibly close. We would do everything in our power to ensure she was safe. I kiss the top of her head. I don’t think any of us will be sleeping much tonight.

Translations:

Cara- Dear

Amore mio- My love

Bellissima dea- Beautiful Goddess

Tesoro- Treasure

Piccolo- Little one

Mia signora- My lady

mia madre- my mother

Amore- Love

Author's Note:

So chapter four is finally here; this was originally going to be chapter three, so this has been in the works for a while. I have started chapter five and made some progress with it, but it's finals season, so chapter five might take just a little longer to come out than usual. Thank you guys so much for your support, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #cardinal copia #ghost #ghost band #copia #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #copia x reader #terzo x reader #papa ii #papa I #terzo #papa emeritus x reader #ghost band x reader #copia x reader x trezo

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pascallllllll1 · 1 year

Text

We Can Be Heroes: Apocalypse

Marcus Moreno x reader

Summary: Reader has powers similar to the force and meets Missy and Marcus Moreno while trying to survive the apocalypse.

Word count: 1,563

Fuck, I need to find water soon. The airs dry and fills your throat with a gritty sand like texture every breath you take. Smoke continues to rise from the ash off the fallen buildings lining the long stretched street. Pushing your way threw the rotten and decayed bodies, you climb on top of an old black hatchback. From your now raised point of view you spot your next destination just a short distance away. A brick building; roof collapsed, three walls fighting hard to stay standing, while the forth facing the alleyway is torn. With flames still burning in areas and ash still falling from the sky, it’s safe to say the poor excuse for a pharmacy should be free of living, or dead, threats.

Nothing much of what’s deemed valuable to you remains, cleaned out long before you even began your journey to this city. Moving in towards the US seemed like a good idea not too long ago, Canada’s resources and supplies having dried up early in the quarantine stages of the virus, you had hope of finding more left here but now you’re beginning to rethink your actions. Big cities in the US got hit first the hardest, subject one being from New York, travellers began visiting and returning home, spreading the shit around the world like the god damn plague. Airports got shut down pretty quick, no one in or out of their home countries, quarantines put into action. After the bigger heroes began to fall, they brought whole cities down with them. Fighting a zombie is terrifying and hard for regular folks as it is, fighting a super fucking human trying to eat your face off while shooting lasers or invisible is a whole other challenge itself. It would take heroes to fight and defeat undead heroes.

After digging around for roughly 20 minutes you’ve managed to round up some medical tape, a half full plastic bottle of water, blood thinners, Tylenol and a box of granola bars that was hidden in an employee locker out back. A decent haul for now. You’ll need to continue scavenging in order to sustain yourself and keep going. The water though warm and dirty, provides instant relief making you moan into the bottle with your eyes closed savouring this precious moment. Just as you’re recapping the bottle you catch the glimpse of light reflecting off something making its presence now known in the distance. Quickly pulling the bandana back around the lower half of your face and readjusting your backpack, you step through the torn down wall, hand swiping against a bloody patch. You look down at your hand annoyed with a deep inhale, exhaling sharply. Seriously? You wipe the thick crusty blood along the front of the building making your way back to the road to continue your previous route.

“Mom!”

“Mommy is hurts! Make it stoP! MOMMM-“

Your shoot up from your spot slouched against a tree, heart pounding like a marching bands base drum. Static ringing fill your ears and you can’t breath. -I can’t breath. Fuck. I can’t breath. fuCk FUCK FUCKKK. Ground yourself common, breath idiot you can do this. In 1.. 2.. 3.. out 1.. 2.. 3.. Again. Again. Again. The ringing halts, pulse evens out. You’re calm. You’re alive. But you can’t say the same fo-STOP. Closing your eyes you back yourself against the tree again letting your body to slide to the ground, sleep taking over once more not long after.

When you wake your view from the side of the highway you rested at is clearer, less smoke blocking the clouds now that the fires have burned to coals, the remaining ash that once fell from the sky now covers every surface like a fresh blanket of snow on an early winter morning. It’s time to move on, they’ll be coming if they aren’t nearby already. After the smoke settles the dead always come to admire the destruction, called upon by the sounds of screams and fighting. It won’t be long before they come to see what was left behind by whatever undead super caused this. From the laser burns in the road, it looks like they went the opposite way you’re headed. Lucky me.

Later into the day your back is aching, feet swollen and blistered, you’re just about ready to take a well deserved break when you spot a “Welcome to California” sign on the set of lights ahead of you. Picking up your pace you rush forward, eager to make your way towards the inner city.

The heroics base stands tall and proud in its walled in grounds obviously made to withstand a hero’s attack. Walls scorched and dented but still in place, a few windows blown out but still looking better than most places you’ve come across in your journey. You’re taking in the proud building when a metal creaking and something dragging against the parking lot gravel to your left catches your attention. Stilling yourself you look from the corner of your eye. An infected is reaching for you about 15 paces away, pulling along a metal pole it seems to have been tied and locked to. Obviously not very well. You scoff to yourself. Slowly, you reach down to your waste, fingers wrapping around the hilt of your hatchet. In a split second you send the hatchet towards the infected slicing it’s head of clean, pulling the weapon back into your hand with the trusty rope you tied to it, and returning it home to its place on your side. The body drops to the pavement with a wet thud, an unnerving screech follows from between cars piled ahead, almost bursting your eardrums. Sounds of metal being crushed and glass breaking is followed by none other than mrs. Vox’s corpse spider crawling from inside the mountain of vehicles, dead eyes set on you. You activate your force field just as the rotten bitch jumps at you, clawing against your power. Using all the energy you can, you shoot her forward letting down your force field and grabbing your double barrelled shot gun from strapped behind your back as she rushes back, pulling the trigger an blowing her head off as she goes to bite the end of the gun. This would be so much cooler if I could shower but now I’m covered in brains. Awesome.

“Who are you.” It’s spoken like the person it bellowed out of was trying to sound intimidating, strong but came out intimidated and spooked. Young. Spinning around you ready yourself and aim in the direction the unknown voice came from. A young girl, maybe twelve or thirteen, wearing all black combat gear. Brown hair pulled in 2 braids against the back of her head, similar to your own, brown eyes and tan skin. She kinda looks like a little me. Huh.

“You alone kid?”

“I asked who you are.” She responds in a snarky manor, whipping out a pair of katanas. Cracking a grin at her tough girl persona and attempt at being threatening, you lower your shot gun. I like this kid.

“(Y/N).” Putting one hand on your hip, the other resting the gun on you shoulder you ask.

“And you missy? What’s your name?” At that she drops her act and actually laughs, placing her katanas back in their holsters. Giving a genuine smile the young girl reaches out to shake your hand.

“Missy. Missy Moreno.” Oh shit. Meeting her in the middle you shake Missy’s hand then step back, face stoic as ever.

“Missy. Hunny where’s your dad?” Missy’s smile drops almost as fast as your stomach does the second you see it, kid looks at you like you just gutted her puppy in front of her.

“I um, I don’t know, I lost him 5 days ago while we were trying to escape the heroics underground safe house. Miracle guy came back from gathering supplies sick, bu-but we didn’t know.” Missy’s eyes being glazing over and filling to the brim with tears as her words become stuttered. You quickly kneel down and place your hands on the sides of her arms, bending your head to the side trying to get her to keep eye contact.

“Hey, hey, hey, Missy I can help you find him don’t worry, breath for me. We need to be calm in order to think and plan, ok? You got this deep breath 1.. 2.. 3.. out 1.. 2.. 3.. good good, you’re doing such a good job.” Nodding and doing as you say Missy gets herself under control. You stand and survey the surrounding area, the suns setting and any buildings near by seem to be filled with undead. First things first you both need a semi safe place to gather yourselves and form a plan of action.

“Do you know a safe place near by Missy?”

“My house, it’s farther out, about 4 hours walking from here.” Fuck. Too long we need to get there quicker, can’t risk having her out past dark. Noticing your hesitation about travelling that far in the dark Missy speaks up again.

“We could always go inside head quarters, but the infected heroes seem to like to stick around here, if they notice us they’ll call for more to come.” With a deep sigh you nodded once to her.

“Lead the way Miss.”

Part 2?

Idk if I’m gonna continue this or not, we’ll see😪

#pedro pascal #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #pedro pascal x reader #we can be heroes

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strawbattyshortcake · 24 days

Text

Breathing Down my Neck

Read on AO3 Awful Glad We Met Chapter 2/3

Words: 8330

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

Harken close and beware the Vampyr. Beware its cold beauty. Beware its charm. Beware its curse. Above all, beware the pale noble, for the Vampyr cannot bear to be of the common folk….

Let no stranger into your home. If it be a friend, look upon them. Do you find them pallid and wan? See you any mark upon their neck?

Astarion cares for the gods exactly as much as they’ve ever cared for him— which is to say not at all— but evidently they have a sick sense of humour, and it figures. He snaps the book shut with as much disdain as he can muster for an inanimate object.

First chance he gets, it’s going in the fucking Chionthar.

As of right now, it lives in disgrace, shoved beneath a stack of worthier volumes, lest the drow catch him trying to drown it, or burn it, or whatever suitably ignoble fate he can devise for the damned thing.

If his heart beat, it would have stopped when she showed it to him, some sick game before she produced a stake— but no. No, her big silver eyes were guileless, trusting, and if it was a cruel joke as he suspects, it was being done through her.

Astarion had kept his composure, more or less, and with quick thinking, he had at once gotten the book away from her before it could describe him any more perfectly, and won points with Triel’dra in the process. She was certainly the person whose favour he most needed, and even with a bit of a hiccup initially— mind flayers are creatures of the underdark, there was a drow skulking around on the ship, he’d made some assumptions— he’d say he was doing rather well for himself on that front.

It’s a brilliant stroke of luck that Astarion had full day to ingratiate himself to their fearless leader (“I do not understand how that happened,” she’d admitted when he’d first called her that to her face) before they’d stumbled across Gale and then Wyll. With only Shadowheart and Lae’zel around, winning her over had been child’s play. But these two…

He sees the way the wizard looks at her.

Fortunately for Astarion, Triel’dra does not.

Gale had been much, much too friendly from the moment Triel had dragged him from his own faulty portal, and all too happy to launch into a nauseating list of his many, many self-reported accomplishments; however, to Gale’s disappointment and Astarion’s immense satisfaction, Triel’dra’s only follow up questions were about the cat.

“Would you like to be a housecat, Erelae?” she’d asked the raven on her shoulder. Evidently it did, because the familiar was now trotting after her as a sleek silver tabby.

The warlock, though… Wyll Ravengard had swashbuckled his way across their path mid-battle, leaping in to defend a gaggle of cowering idiots who had led a pack of goblins right to the gates of their settlement. Astarion hadn’t worried, not at first, about this newcomer getting between him and his quarry but that was before they’d gotten inside the tiefling encampment and it had immediately become apparent that Triel’dra was also exactly the kind of incorrigible do-gooder who would stop and risk her neck for anyone with a sob story.

When he had decided to charm a drow woman for protection, too compassionate was not a problem he had anticipated.

The day before had been all hiking and looting and the odd reanimated skeleton, so he supposes he hadn’t had the chance to really observe her. She was difficult to read, in a way he’d taken to calling ‘resting murder face,’ a quiet stoicism and soft voice that gave little away, save perhaps a twitchy kind of wariness— when the worm in her head wasn’t interfering, anyway— and when beset by goblins and bugbears, had dispatched them with a promising, ruthless efficiency.

And then they’d walked into a settlement full of frightened little tiefling children and she’d melted on the spot.

She’d been visibly unsettled as soon as they’d crossed the gate, murmuring something about her conversation with what he presumed to be the tiefling leader, and had only become more distressed as they took in the chaos, white brows knit, those eerie pale eyes wide and troubled.

Triel’dra was hesitant with people, but she’d make time for anyone who asked— and her greatest weakness was for the little ones.

The first time Astarion had actually seen her lose her calm was after stepping away from the particularly unpleasant group of children with their miniature thieves’ guild.

“I do not understand,” she’d said, horrified as soon as she was sure there weren’t any more tiny little devils lurking around to hear. “Why is no one watching them? Where are their parents?”

Shadowheart had raised an incredulous eyebrow. “They’re orphans, obviously. They don’t have parents.”

Triel had floundered for a moment, the way she does when she gets stuck translating whatever is in her head from Drow to Elvish to Common and just gestured in helpless outrage to the adults milling about, panicking and arguing and running about like headless chickens. “No one’s child is everyone’s child.”

She had looked about ready to flatten the druids who tried to keep her out of the grove, once she heard they were keeping a girl captive, and he’d had little choice but to follow after her, ready to bolt if she was suddenly beset by angry bears.

It had been a rather impressive bit of hostage negotiation, if he’s being honest. Especially considering how much of it she had spent talking to a snake.

But now she was fully preoccupied with the druid’s predicament and could not be diverted.

Thus, the argument.

“We do not have time for any of this!” Lae’zel hisses. “The gaith tadpole in your skull grows by the hour. We do not have the luxury of running errands for every being we encounter!”

They’d returned to spend one more night at their campsite before moving on, either forward as Lae’zel wants towards wherever she thinks her Creche might be, or after these goblin cultists who have, more likely than not, already killed this Halsin person. Here they could rest, and argue without the subjects of the argument weighing in or making puppy-dog eyes.

“I understand,” Triel’dra was considerably calmer than Lae’zel. It’s the measured response of someone who already knows what they’re going to do, arguments be damned. “But I cannot leave them. If we find the Archdruid, the circle will cease their ritual, the tieflings will be safe. Otherwise, they die.”

“She’lak! Their fate is not our concern.”

Astarion is inclined to agree with her. Triel’dra is an adult elf, at least one hundred, more than old enough to know the world is cruel, let alone nature, and her behaviour is in stark contrast to the whispers he’s heard about drow societies. He’s wondering if he shouldn’t look elsewhere for protection…but he’d also seen her shoot down a bugbear in the time it took the rest of them to draw weapons.

Not to mention that one, brief glimpse of bloody murder he’d seen in her head.

Just for an instant, between flashes of her capture and her home, he’d seen, through streaming eyes and too-bright light, another drow woman pinned beneath her as she drove a dagger down with all the vicious force her small frame belied.

So for now, he’s retreated to his tent, thumbing through a book, keeping his thoughts to himself— and weighing his options.

Shadowheart is allied with Lae’zel, to everyone’s amazement, though she’s after a typical healer and not whatever in the hells a githyanki decontamination involves. She’s watching the confrontation warily, keeping her distance.

Gale is bent over a stewpot, hoping that if he stays very quiet and very, very still, he won’t be dragged into this.

“It’s fine, Lae’zel,” Triel asserts. “I do understand our situation; I will not ask you to delay, but I am staying. I will find Halsin myself and rejoin you afterwards, if I am able.”

“And me,” Wyll adds. He steps forward and gives the drow an approving nod. Triel smiles at him, gratefully. “The Blade of Frontiers does not abandon souls in need.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

When they’d first met, he’d been surprised to see so much of the surface in those brief glimpses into her mind. There’d been her capture, running through grey dawn forest as the nautiloid pursued, somehow tracking her beneath the canopy of the trees ahead, her only thoughts of leading it away from home. An ancient drow’s gnarled hands, revelry and prayer beneath a full moon, two figures wreathed in starfire. He knows enough to recognize worship.

Far fewer spiders and less ritual sacrifice than he had anticipated.

Astarion wouldn’t say he’s well-versed in drow customs or the politics of the underdark (enough to know that they’re brutal and depraved), just the bits and pieces he’s picked up in two centuries. Something something the Seldarine drove out the Spider Queen and she took her cursed followers with her into the darkness.

Triel’dra, it seems, is among those drow who came crawling back.

Judging by the way she shies from sunlight, they haven’t been forgiven.

But the gods had deigned to grant her something. It may be a mere taste of the kind of sacred power Shadowheart wields, but the silvery white fire Triel gathers in her hands had made the hair at the back of his undead neck stand up in terror all the same.

It’s a precarious position, a vampire hiding from vampires. The drow strikes the perfect balance of holy and grounded— able to protect him but without the kind of zealotry that might target him as well, on principle.

Astarion sighs, sets the book down carelessly, and steps from the safety of his tent awning and into the fray. “I’ll come along. The druids did say they would be very grateful if we found their missing leader…” The last thing he needs is Triel’dra going off on some heroic adventure with a fellow bleeding heart like Wyll. Where would that leave him?

Besides, she likes him already, and charming as he may be, winning over Shadowheart promises a challenge. She narrows her eyes at him now as he declares his allegiances.

“I am certain they would be willing to aid us if we return their leader. Perhaps in the form of healing?” Triel offers hopefully, and Shadowheart lets out a noisy breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Master Halsin has been studying these tadpoles for a long time, it seems.”

“You really should have led with that,” the cleric says, defeated. “Fine. Maybe the druids can help. Besides, you’ll all get killed without me.”

“Thank you,” the drow breathes as a relieved sigh, even as Lae’zel curses in Gith. “This is… this is important to me.” She falters, expectant eyes on her, and looks to Astarion. Not the way he’s used to being looked at. It’s never desire, never lingering or hungry, but if she’s looking to him for reassurance, that’s at least something. He looks curious, encouraging her to go on. “I… They are me? The Emerald Grove is…. It is very much like my home. If this happened to us, if our leader—” her voice fails her, and she shakes her head.

The place in her thoughts. The worshippers under the stars.

She’s reluctant to share more, but between the three of them they’re able to get a few details out of her en route to this goblin stronghold.

She calls their leader something that would translate like ‘Moonreader,’ a title passed from mother to daughter for generations: druids of great power who divine the will of Sehanine Moonbow through the stars.

“Drow druids,” Astarion remarks, eyebrows raised. “Drowids?”

“But you’re not a druid,” Shadowheart prompts, to which Triel nods and says nothing more.

The day is strange and eventful. Something about Triel just cows everyone they come across from this Cult of the Absolute, and one look at the drow is enough to convince most that she’s with them already. It’s remarkably easy to creep through their territory, looking through the ruins of an abandoned village for anywhere they might be holding the druid captive.

Triel’dra is forever preoccupied with fresh water, and can’t pass a source without checking on it. She wanders off to investigate a well, and calls them over urgently a moment later. By the time they reach her, she’s already disappeared over the edge.

Astarion darts to the well and peers down. It’s dry, the bottom seemingly dark stone, and Triel is looking up at him, her eyes gleaming in the darkness. “There is much down here,” she calls to him. Her voice is soft but it carries up the empty stone chute of the well. She’s used to this sort of setting.

Astarion smiles lazily at her from above. “Well, well, well… What do we have here?”

Triel smiles; Shadowheart threatens to shove him in.

The well opens into a dark cavern, festooned with massive cobwebs— studded with silk-swathed figures, distinctly person-shaped.

“Hopefully not our druid,” Astarion notes dryly.

“No,” Triel treads forward carefully, placing each step with deliberate care as she studies the webs across the floor. “No, these are old. Some of these webs are new, so it is difficult to say if it’s been disturbed recently, but the bodies have been here for a while.”

“Phase spiders,” Wyll assesses, and the drow nods her assent. “And lots of them. Watch your steps down here.” He takes a moment to obliterate a clutch of hideous eggs with a blast from his palm. “This doesn’t seem to be part of the goblin camp.”

“We’re already down here,” Astarion sighs, glancing to the others for their assent. “Might as well take a look. Someone hid an entrance to this place; there must be something worthwhile.”

There are, unsurprisingly, spiders. Many, many, massive, fuckoff huge spiders, and little else. He’s not sure which of them it was who stepped into the webbing and sent the things pouring in (he’s inclined to blame Wyll. Even with his expertise, and though Triel conjured some softly glowing wisps to light his way, he’s still a human with one eye) but in an instant they’re overrun.

Fire and distance both seem like worthwhile friends in this fight, and he sends a firebolt sizzling into a chittering beast.

Triel’dra is nearest to him, and after getting off a few shots, she tries to hide her cat. She shoos her familiar away, but the movement catches the nearest creature’s attention and it lashes out, the cat disappearing with an indignant chirp in a wisp of grey smoke.

Triel cries out. It’s in drow, but the distress and intonation are clearly cursing. The offending spider is too close to shoot, and she darts after it, short sword drawn, a dagger at the ready in her other hand. She’s deft with them, darting in close to slash and then out of its reach. But then it lunges forward, blinking out of existence to close an unnatural distance, and she isn’t quick enough as she throws herself out of the way.

The spider lets out a shrill wail as its fangs graze her skin. It’s trying to sink in, pump venom into her flesh, but only manages to graze at her with the sharp points as she retreats. The fang slashes through her sleeve as she jerks back, a spray of blood sent through the air by the sharp movement.

Astarion is caught in its path and the world stops.

Droplets of drow blood, hot and sweet, are splattered across his face, in his hair, and there is nothing else. He can smell it. He can taste it and all at once he knows why Cazador kept this all to himself.

He’s stunned long enough for the others to notice. A flash of that bright, hateful light that makes his cursed skin crawl snaps him out of his daze as Triel blasts the spider in its horrid face with a handful of holy fire, scrambling out from beneath it. He’s not sure how she got there.

“Astarion! Are you alright?” Triel’dra rushes over to him, close enough to feel the warmth of a healing spell already forming in her hand as she does a quick battlefield once-over. Close enough to hear her heart pounding, to smell the blood coursing through her veins just beneath her skin, still soaking the torn fabric of her tunic.

Astarion’s mouth is watering. He swallows hard and drags his attention, kicking and screaming, from the lavender skin of her throat not protected by her leather armour. He does what he does best and forces a smile, raises his hand, and a firebolt strikesd the spider coming up behind. It collapses with a shriek, oozing venomous ichor. “Of course, darling, never better. But do watch your back, won't you?”

Clearing out the phase spiders is a long, exhausting slog. Shadowheart gets too tangled in webs to move and has to be cut free… twice.

“Let's see you do this in heavy plate, Astarion!”

Finally, the creatures stop coming, the cavern free of echoing chitters and the clack of chitinous legs, nothing but the cold empty nothing and the rush of flowing water somewhere deeper inside. And Triel, being a drow dowsing rod— drowsing rod— of course, has to go find it.

A stream trickles over an outcropping to form a deep pool of dark water, and Triel kneels to examine it, then cups her hands and brings it to her lips. “It’s good,” she tells them and sets to refilling waterskins and scrubbing the dirt and blood from her face.

“I’m not sure I trust dank cave water.” Shadowheart notes as she lowers herself to sit beside the pool, and starts the slow process of removing her armour.

“I wouldn’t mind the rest, location aside,” Wyll adds with a weary sigh, worrying at a spider bite. He smiles at the drow, who is gleefully shaking off the cold water like a pigeon in a bird bath. “Though, perhaps ‘welcoming’ is a matter of perspective.”

“This is the most at home I have felt in days,” Triel admits, standing, stretching, still battered and bruised despite the refreshing interlude.

No one wants to delay, but it’s been a long day of hiking and spiders and they decide to make camp for the night. Shadowheart’s magic is exhausted, as is the ranger’s.

“No, wait,” she says, and with a word of incantation, calls back her familiar. To everyone’s dismay, she’s chosen its form as a spider the size of a small dog. She beams at it, lovingly. “Now I am out of magic.”

Astarion takes his time, keeps his distance, as the others wash and settle, making a fire, passing around the satchel with their food, taking turns washing up in the pool.

He’s been holding his breath. He doesn’t need to breathe, it’s just a habit, just something he needs to speak— and to smell. If he doesn’t breathe he can pretend there aren’t still droplets of Triel’dra’s blood across his face. That he’s thought of anything else since it happened.

Finally, once he’s sure no one will disturb him, he makes his way to the water. It’s icy and dark, that telltale nothing looking up at him from its surface, and after a moment of hesitation he works up the will to scrub it away. There are eyes on him.

The evening wears on. It's impossible to keep track of time in the cavern, but his companions sit and chat and eat and he tries to do as much as needed to keep up appearances. Astarion excuses himself to his tent, picks up a book, and stares at it, unable to take in the words.

Gods, one whiff of drow blood and he’s become the world’s most obnoxious sommelier. Full-bodied red, rich and sweet with notes of mountain spring water, night air, and blackberry.

He needs to hunt, deluding himself that he can sate this hunger with quantity. Does anything in this damnable cavern even have blood? He can get back out into the night, into the forest, he has to find something, something with… with more thin, useless animal blood.

There are goblins outside— that’s something— and now he’s fixated on how to be sure he gets one on its own, not be swarmed by a pack of the little bastards. And after all this, he knows, it still won’t hold a candle to Triel’s.

There are two other living bodies here, of course, but he’s like a bloodhound and he’s picked up her scent. Transfixed, single minded.

He tries to divert himself, but there is nothing but the hunger, nothing but the pulse pounding in Triel’dra’s throat and the gnawing weakness, the need.

But Astarion has been starving for two hundred years. He can last another night.

He can.

He has to. Triel is sitting with the others, trying to shield her eyes from the fire and nibbling on a hunk of bread as Wyll regales them with tales of monsters he’s slain. Even relaxed, there’s a dagger at her side, not to mention that sacred fire she conjures. She may barely know what a vampire is, but she certainly knows how to kill one.

Above all else, she’s an elf. She trances; Triel’s guard is never down. Even if he wanted to, it would be suicide, and he takes great comfort in the knowledge that no matter how hungry he gets, he’d never be stupid enough to try.

But as the fire is dying down and the others begin to drag themselves to their beds, Triel’dra approaches his tent, cautiously, like she would knock on the canvas if she could. “Astarion?”

He smiles, bites down the screaming in his head. “Ah, hello. What can I do for you?”

The look she gives him in return is nervous, hopeful. “I think… I think that I will try to sleep tonight.”

His cold, still heart plummets.

The other two have noted this exchange, but they can’t understand what it means, not really. How vulnerable Triel’dra is choosing to make herself.

He laughs, before he can stop himself. A nervous giggle, just for an instant, near hysterics. The gods all hate him. “Really? Sleep, here? Are you…. Are you certain that’s wise?”

She pulls something from her shirt, a round set of stacked pieces on a silver chain he’s seen her fiddle with. “The Lady of Dreams sometimes blesses her followers with visions, in their sleep.” She shrugs, weakly. “I… I do not think it will amount to anything, but it seems the time to try. We say: when the tunnel collapses, pray as you dig.”

A genuine smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. “So, have the same outcome either way, but if it’s good it’s because of them and if it’s poor it’s on you?”

He regrets it, the slip, but she’s not offended. She laughs a little, the scar across her face twitching as her nose crinkles. “I see it as: do all you can for yourself, but it does not hurt to ask.”

Oh, but it does. It aches, to plead and beg and pray with no answer.

His smile tightens.

“Anyway… wake me when it is my turn to keep watch.”

This is their habit. It’s what they’ve done each night. He has no reason to do differently now. “Of course.”

With a grateful smile, she bids him a good night, and turns back towards her tent.

The others lay down to sleep, and Astarion is left alone with dying embers and his hunger.

He should leave now, find something to eat, but… Triel isn't trancing tonight. There’s no elf aware enough to rouse if something were to disturb the camp while he’s stepped away. He can’t— or is that just the excuse he’s made?

He creeps closer without meaning to, from his tent to the fireside to the edge of the pool and oh, that’s taken him right to Triel’dra’s tent, hasn’t it? How funny.

Triel’s is the smallest of the shelters they’ve thrown together, made of dark fabric and suffocatingly small. She’s sacrificed surface area for coverage, devoting as much of the canvas as she can to blocking out the light. She’s tiny, a stunted little thing hiding surprising strength, and even she has to curl to fit comfortably, her bedroll poking out from beneath the flap.

Astarion silently pulls it aside.

Triel’dra is sound asleep. He can tell by the way her breath falls, the way she flinches and mumbles to herself into her pillow, murmurs in Drow, but no sounds enough like Elvish. It’s an unpleasant dream.

As he moves closer he catches his foot on something— a less dexterous man would have face planted right into the pile of blankets stirring gently in the middle of the tent— but he rights himself and Triel’dra doesn’t wake.

She’s left her pack and all its provisions out for him again.

His mouth twitches, and he has to bite down hard on the bleak bubble of laughter threatening to slip free.

She’s always so worried about him going hungry.

With no sign of her familiar, he presses on. The fabric of the flap falls, sealing the tent behind him and at once he regrets it. Her scent is overwhelming in this close space, so tight he’s all but crouched over her, filled with her and her things— her blood, but more along with it. It’s woodsmoke and pine sap and the bar of soap she had from wherever she’d come from— night blooming jasmine and lilac, he knows his fragrances— and his mouth is watering.

The little drow is fast asleep, safe in the knowledge that her trusted ally is watching over the camp.

He can’t pretend anymore. He already knows what he’s going to do, knows why he’s in here, drawn irresistibly, a moth smart enough to realise what’s happening but too weak to stop itself as it’s drawn to the flame.

Astarion may be free of Cazador but he’s still a slave to his hunger.

He tells himself he won’t hurt her. He’ll be quick, take only what he needs, and she’s sound asleep. Just a taste, she’ll never know. Try as he might, the litany of excuses never completely drowns out the doubts.

What makes him think he can stop?

He’s breathing, desperate to draw in more of that delectable scent and it comes as ragged panting.

His teeth are so sharp. She won’t feel a thing.

He could so easily tear her throat out with his fangs.

She’s so strong.

She’s so small.

He’s been so hungry for so long and to have it here— fresh, living blood, helpless beneath him…

It’s as if someone else tugs gently on the blanket pulled over her head. She sleeps in a heap of them, curled into her pillow, as if even down here she’s afraid of sunlight sneaking in.

He swallows hard, holds his breath, tries to clear the haze of ravenous need driving him to lean in closer, closer….

He tenses, ready to spring back as she shifts beneath him. Triel’dra mumbles in her sleep and rolls over, brow furrowed and lips parted as whatever nightmare she’s having plays behind her eyelids.

She falls onto her back, her head dips to her far shoulder, baring her neck to him.

He could sob. When this is over, however it ends, Astarion is going to find a quiet place and laugh until he cries. He has no doubt now that the gods are looking on at their unhappy cosmic punchline.

Miserable of them, he thinks as he considers the sleeping drow, to use one of their own faithful as the set-up.

The last of his restraint gives way.

Astarion drops to his hands and knees as he inches closer, all too aware of the creeping, crawling thing he’s been reduced to. He doesn’t care. He’s too hungry for dignity, as if Cazador had left him with any to lose.

He can hear the frantic beating of her heart, sees, with some gruesome instinct, the place along her neck that would be best to sink his teeth. He lines himself up, fangs bared, shuts his eyes and—

A jolt passes through the figure beneath him as she wakes.

Oh, shit.

Astarion’s eyes fly open in time to meet hers, wide with panic and unfocused with sleep as in a a reflexive movement she draws a knife he’d been too distracted to see from beneath her pillow and a forceful kick to his midsection sends him sprawling backwards out of the tent.

This may well be the stupidest way he could die.

He manages to land on his feet, standing just in time to see her stop dead in the doorway, an attack abandoned as she wakes fully and takes in what she’s seeing. Triel’dra lowers the knife, blinking sleep from her eyes. “Astarion?”

He straightens against the ache promising a bruise in the shape of her foot, brushes himself off and tries to look as innocent as possible. “I can explain,” he says, and it sounds as weak as it feels.

At least no one else seems to have woken.

There’s a moment where he considers lying. That he was overcome by a different kind of hunger and meant to wake her to suggest a midnight tryst. But no. Triel has been unmoved by his flirtations and she’d woken with a face full of fangs. It’s too late.

She’s quick but if he turns and bolts he may be able to make it to the rope out of the well before she does. Maybe.

Triel’dra hasn't moved from before her tent, just lets the flap fall behind her, tucks her knife away, then raises her hand. He hadn’t noticed her familiar creeping from the top of the tent ready to lunge, but the spider halts at her instruction. Triel is eyeing him cautiously, that appraising stare he’s felt before. “You do not eat with us,” she says softly.

“No,” he says, his smile chagrined, defeated. “No, I don’t.”

“Blood-thief,” she breathes. “You…?”

He tries for casual, but the laugh that slips out is high and near-deranged, his eyes darting between the drow and the spider, trying to place the campfire behind him by the warmth against his back. Just how and when to bolt without tripping into it.

As much as Astarion loves a sharp knife, his wits have always been his first line of defence, but he finds himself disarmed beneath her steady gaze. Words bubble and spill, clumsy and panicked. “I wasn’t going to hurt you, I swear it— I’ve never actually killed anyone— to feed, I mean, I’ve killed people; you’ve seen me kill people— but I’ve always fed off of animals. I’ve been hunting deer, boars, kobolds—”

She had, until this moment, been observing him silently, her expression unreadable. Triel’dra’s eyes widen and she starts towards him, a bewildered outrage on her face. “You!” She hisses, a sharp whisper that makes him reflexively look to the other tents for movement. She crosses the distance and gently prods an accusing finger into his chest. “You are the one who has been killing the boars!”

“Shh, shhh!” he shushes, pleading. “Yes. Yes, that’s been me; please keep it down.” There’s no sound or movement from the others, and for his initial concern, her voice has never raised above a hush, drowned out by the steady trickle of water from the stream. She pulls back her hand to rest her face in it, exasperated. This is… not the reaction he had been expecting.

She mutters something under her breath. Language doesn’t matter, Astarion can always tell when someone is cursing. “Such a waste of meat. A carcass that size attracts wolves, owlbears, scares off all the small game…”

That’s the part she cares about? “I couldn’t exactly bring it back to camp, could I? Here’s a dead boar I hunted, don’t mind it being fully exsanguinated!”

“That is why you bring it to me. Or better yet, bring me with you. I field dress the boar, no one can tell how it died.“

It takes a moment for the exchange to fully process. Astarion stares at her, baffled, as he finally convinces himself that he’d heard her properly. His surprise turns to suspicion. “You would do that?”

“Of course. I am doing all I can to keep everyone fed, and that boar would have helped immensely. You get the blood, we eat the meat, everyone is full and happy.”

Astarion studies the drow, looking for anything like disgust or anger and finds none. He motions away from the group, and to his further surprise she’s happy enough to follow him closer to the pool, where the rushing water can better obscure their conversation. Someone should probably warn her that it’s inadvisable to wander off with someone like him. But for now, he’s impossibly grateful she does. “You… you don’t mind that I’m a vampire.” He shouldn’t really be so shocked. She barely knew what one was, and besides, he supposes it may be rather difficult to rattle someone from the land of things-that-go-bump-in-the-forever-night.

It does give her pause. Triel is quiet a moment, and he can feel her gaze on him, his red eyes, his fangs, observing the things he tries to keep below anyone’s notice. It sends an uneasy prickle down his spine.

“I wish you had told me.” She says, finally.

“Yes, well.” Astarion’s mouth twitches into a nervous smile. He clears his throat uncomfortably. “The response is typically less… this, and more…” He sighs, mimes the stabbing motion she had made the day before.

“Oh.” Her brows knit. He shouldn’t be giving her ideas. “Thus, the secrecy?” She thinks for a moment, the freckles across her nose shifting as her mouth works at something she can’t figure out how to word. “If you have been drinking boar blood, and it is plentiful, why were you…?”

He’d rather hoped she’d somehow forgotten about that.

Astarion sighs. He feels pitiful, but maybe it’s best to lean into it. “Animal blood is… fine. It will keep me going, but I’m… I’m so weak. The blood of a thinking creature is far more potent, just a sip and I’d be so much sharper, stronger…” He doesn’t expect much, but looks at her hopefully all the same. She’ll refuse, he’ll be cheeky about it, smooth things over with his charms and they can both go back to their reverie and pretend this never happened.

Instead her face is deadly serious, her voice soft with pity that would turn his stomach if it weren’t so empty.

“You are hungry,” Triel’dra says.

The laugh slips out before he can stop it, bitter. “For two hundred years.”

Her unbroken stare doesn’t waver, studying him. “How much do you need?”

He has no idea, but if it’s as powerful as it smells, it shouldn’t take much. “A sip. Just a taste, really, I swear that was all I wanted.”

“Alright.”

“Pardon?”

“My blood. You may have some.”

Astarion blinks at her. The words make sense, he understands them all individually, but cannot believe what he’s hearing when he strings them together. “I…. you’re certain?” She nods again, resolute. “Well then,” he forces his most reassuring smile, trying to hide the glance he takes around the campsite to ensure no one else is listening, to capitalise on this offer before she comes to her senses. “Shall we make ourselves comfortable, darling? Somewhere away from prying eyes.”

She leads the way when he gestures to her tent. He has to wonder if she isn’t agreeing so she might lure him back to where she has a stake, but he’s too hungry to let that stop him.

She grabs her pack on the way past, pulling it into the tent behind her as she disappears behind the canvas flap. He has to stoop as he nudges his own way into the cramped space just as Triel sinks cross legged to her bedroll and indicates the space she’s left beside her.

He laughs to himself as he gets to his knees beside the bed instead. “You should lay down for this.”

“Why?” It comes out in a hurry and for the first time she seems nervous, well after he would have expected it.

“Blood pressure, my dear,” he eases. He has absolutely no idea what he’s doing but it makes sense. “Better to keep you from fainting on me.”

Triel considers this and hesitantly seems to concede. She’s uneasy as she lowers herself to the bedroll and settles back against the pillow, hands balled into fists and her eyes fixed on the dark canvas above her.

Slipping into place over top of her is familiar enough, a well-practised movement from so many other nights, and Astarion lays a hand to either side of her to rest his weight. Triel’dra squeezes her eyes shut tight as he draws closer and gives him a side, turning her head— away from him— to offer the crook of her neck and left shoulder.

Astarion pauses, studying her beneath him. Her whole body is clenched as tight as her eyes, breath stuttering, heart pounding… cheeks flushed.

Well, well. And here he had thought she wasn’t interested. Will wonders never cease? His vicious little gloomstalker is shy. An unusual surge of feelings pulse through him at the realisation. Relief and no small amount of amusement. He can work with this.

The aftertaste is disappointment.

He had thought she was different, but in the end, he knows exactly what he has to offer. All he’s ever had.

“Go on.” Triel swallows hard, he can hear it from where he’s paused, a whisper away from the heat of her skin.

“Relax, darling. You’re so tense I’d break my fangs if I bit you now. Deep breaths for me… There you are….” His smirk nearly brushes the hammering thud of her pulse as Triel doesn’t calm so much as force herself to go slack about the shoulder. She’s still gritting her teeth, breath hissed between them.

Her nerves have been an amusing diversion but his empty stomach clenches painfully. He has to breathe to speak and inhales a lungful of her scent, overpowering this close to her skin, to the veins calling to him beneath it. He’s salivating as he finally bares his fangs and surges forward.

Triel swallows a gasp and Astarion’s first taste of thinking blood hits his tongue.

He can’t really remember what it was to need air, but in that moment he thinks it must have been like this. How it was to gasp for something so desperately as he slips a hand beneath to cradle Triel’s head, holding her closer as he drinks, and drinks, and drinks, losing himself in it.

Astarion moans. It slips free on it’s own, not a pretty sound, not the pitch-perfect playacted panting he’s perfected over the centuries, but something deep and animal and real that would be mortifying if he had the wherewithal to care, but his mind is empty of anything but taste and sensation and blessed relief.

He feels it. The strength that was always just out of his reach, the heat of her blood spreading through his body, her pulse against his tongue—

“Astarion—”

Her voice is so small, so far away when it finally reaches through the drunken haze of his thirst. How long had she been calling? Her hand is fisted in his shirt, the grip going slack.

No. No, it’s only been a moment, only a few seconds, he can’t have—

The heartbeat beneath his lips is slow, the skin cool against the unfamiliar stolen heat of his own.

She’s still breathing when he pulls back, but the lavender of her skin has gone grey. She blinks at him through heavy eyelids as he swallows curses under his breath and fumbles through his pockets for— ah, here it is. He hurries to press the handkerchief to the still bleeding wounds at her throat, dragging her to sit up. She sways, slumping against him.

The rats were too small to tell but feeding on the boars he had been sure: there’s something in his bite that keeps the blood flowing.

“There you are, darling, that’s it. Just… Hold this here, would you? It just needs a second…”

Triel’dra steadies, the weight slumped against him lessened as she props herself up to sit under her own power, numb fingers grasping at the thin square of cloth. She mumbles something, slurred Drow that stumbles into Elvish, something like ‘I’m fine.’ Her movements are slow and clumsy, and when she looks at him she’s reeling, silver eyes are unfocused, but she’s keeping upright under her own power and the handkerchief clutched to the wound well enough, so finally he’s free to retreat.

“Well,” Astarion sits back on his heels, getting what distance he can in the cramped tent. She’s fine. It’s fine. A little rest, and she’ll be good as new, he’s certain. “That…” He feels breathless, giddy. He licks his lips, catches a stray trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. “That was… amazing.” An ache so deep he’d forgotten how it was to be without it is gone. “My mind is finally clear. I feel strong, I feel…” It takes him a moment to find the word, so long since he’s needed it. Content. Satisfied. How had she put it? Full and… happy.

Astarion hears the need in his own voice, the heady desperation, and clears his throat. He smiles, polite, brisk, aiming for just the perfect combination of nonchalance and gratitude. What’s a pint between friends? Everything is fine. No need to panic, or call the cleric, or contemplate just how valuable this is to him. Not appreciative enough that it might be leveraged against him, but enough that she might agree to this again.

Gods, he can still taste her and already he’s angling for his next fix.

Triel just smiles a little, weakly, unsteady. Something about it makes him uneasy, a feeling that only intensifies as an eerie chittering sound from behind sends a shudder down his back. The flap stirs and her familiar creeps back into the tent, crawling along the ceiling and watching him warily with far too many eyes. Time to make an exit.

Astarion excuses himself to find something more filling he can feed on without restraint. “No boars,” he adds, forcing his most charming smile despite the disquiet still needling at him, “I promise.”

He can never just enjoy anything. A belly full of drow blood is more than he dared to dream of through his years of draining vermin, but the high is souring and he can’t put his finger on why. A mix of things, a potent cocktail of roiling troubles and he needs to leave before his facade slips.

“This is a gift, you know. I won’t forget it.”

Astarion can’t bring himself to look at her as he hesitates at the doorway, the image of her haunting him anyway: pale and trembling, big horrid spider curled in her lap like a housecat as the red staining the handkerchief clutched to her neck deepens and spreads.

A gift. As if there were such a thing.

That’s part of the disgust he feels. That she has something he needs, that she knows it, and that for all his talk of his improved usefulness, it’s something he owes her with no way to repay. A debt, just another thing weighing against him in the balance of his worth.

Well, at least Astarion knows what she wants from him, something he is all too able to provide, and the sooner he can tip the scales back in his favour, the better.

It’s as he stalks through the web-strewn cave that the other aspect makes itself clearer. It’is knowing, now, just what was being kept from him. Not just the taste, but the strength, the clarity, the relief. It’s not possible to hate Cazador more than he does already, but it brings the feeling back up to the surface, acrid and persistent.

Unfortunately, sharp as he is, the first thing he finds to stalk is an ettercap. It’s going to be one kind of spider or another down here, so he resigns himself to the thing with fewer legs, at least. He remembers from the earlier encounter to keep his distance, to hit it with fire.

Its blood is vile but abundant.

It doesn’t douse the heady craving for the drow’s blood as he had hoped. If anything it’s all the sweeter in his memory by comparison, the taste still lingering on his tongue.

He stalks back to camp, belly full, chest hollow.

Wyll and Shadowheart are asleep and he makes it back to his tent without waking them. It’s just as he’s about to turn in and try and get a decent stretch of reverie that a sound from the furthest tent catches his sensitive ears. The scent of blood is still heavy in the air and a stuttered, rasping sound just barely reaches him over the sound of the waterfall. Her familiar is meant to be keeping watch, but there’s no sign of the spider.

Astarion grits his teeth, the flap of his tent clenched in his hand, and with a roll of his eyes he lets it fall and creeps back to Triel’dra’s tent.

He’d left her sitting up. She’d been alert, mostly. She’d been fine.

When Astarion pokes his head into the tent, the drow is sprawled across her bedroll in a dead faint, the handkerchief loosely grasped in her hand drenched in blood. There’s a splatter of it across her pillow. She’s deathly pale, grey lips tinged blue, breath shallow and strained, and soon to stop.

Fuck.

He should leave. He should go back to his tent and trance, and be as shocked as everyone else in the morning. This cave is full of horrors, it’s no surprise someone died.

But no. Shit. Shit, they’ll find her with two perfect little punctures in her throat. All they need to do is look at his fucking teeth and he’s finished— and even if he gets away with it, he’s lost his best protection from Cazador.

Cursing under his breath, he darts inside, drawing the flap closed behind him. Turning he starts, finds himself face to face with the fey spider perched on the dying drow woman’s chest. It shouldn’t be possible, but he swears those many eyes are all glaring accusations.

The thing lunges for him when he moves towards her.

“Piss off; I’m trying to help!” he hisses through clenched fangs.

The spider only sort of…. Wiggles defensively in response, its first set of arms raised in a sad attempt at a threat display. It’s difficult to be intimidated by anything that fits under his boot but he still reflexively draws back.

“What do you care, anyway? You’re bound to her, aren’t you? If she dies, you’re free.” The fey spirit waggles its arms more emphatically.

Astarion sighs, surprised as he watches the creature by a sudden pang of pity. It probably can’t let her die even if it wants to, some clause in whatever fey pact familiars are bound by.

“Look,” Astarion raises his hands, placating, and it— Erelae, that’s what Triel’dra calls it at least— lowers its arms in turn. “I’m trying to help, alright? Here, see?” He reaches behind himself and feels for her pack, dragging it over to rifle through. There’s no way he’s explaining this to Shadowheart and no way she’s lasting until morning, which leaves him few options. His fingers close around the familiar shape of a potion bottle and he shows it to the spider for its approval.

Because that’s the kind of ridiculous his life has become.

Erelae relents. The spider backs up, crawling off of its mistress, all eight eyes still fixed carefully on Astarion as he uncorks the bottle with his teeth and gathers the limp form of the bloodless drow in his arms. Her head tips back against his shoulder, and he carefully drips the sweet-smelling liquid, an unnatural bright red, into her mouth. “There we are,” he says, more to reassure himself than anyone else. “All better… No harm done. Good as new.”

She’s still unconscious as the last of the potion trickles down her throat, but Triel’dra lets out a deep sigh, and her breathing seems to steady, the wounds on her neck fading. She’ll still feel like shit in the morning, but— in his amateur opinion, at least— she’ll live.

Astarion lays her back against her bloodied bedroll. He’s certainly had worse targets. Pleasant enough to spend time with, and she’s beautiful— if in a severe, rugged sort of way. This close, and without having to worry about being caught, he’s able to really study her. There’s the obvious, the freckles, the jagged scar that stretches across the bridge of her nose from her jaw to her forehead. There are more. Older, fainter scars. One across her eye, tendrils of lethal scar tissue that stretch across her throat, the other side than she’d offered to him. A lifetime of fighting, and more than one brush with death by the looks of her body— let alone what he’d seen in her memory.

Exactly what he needs, if he can just keep her attention.

Astarion reaches down, her skin warm beneath his undead fingertips as he brushes silver hair, matted with blood, from her face, acknowledges the spider creeping back into its place on her chest, rising and falling with each slow breath, and skulks back to his tent to try and salvage what he can of this rest.

[Prev] [Next]

#Lol triel is all what a sweetheart and he's all god I hate everyone in this party #astarion x drow tav #astarion x tav #tavstarion #bg3 tav #ranger tav #AG Writes things #Awful Glad we met #Title is from Will Wood's Yes to err is human so don't be one #Ammy takes liberties with the bite scene #and dialogue #Triel'dra Helvimtor #Triel tav #Astar'dra #ok look look healing wounds with your tongue is sexy bUT #Vampires would have anticoagulant spit they just would #DEFENSIVE WIGGLES

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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 9 months

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Corrupted, Chapter One - a Magnus Archives x Malevolent Crossover

Tim opened a book he shouldn't have, and now has the last remaining god in the universe stuck in his head.

In the process of dealing with that, he will come up against invading deities, be marked by the Desolation, and turn—reluctantly—to the Magnus Institute for help.

There is a lot going on here. Tim feels out of his league. He is. And lately, he's unnervingly certain that maybe, he should just burn it all down…

(Been waiting to share this one for a while! It's ongoing, and I can work on it again now that the Big Bang stuff is done. Enjoy!)

Chapter One on AO3

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He never thought Danny would get into anything dangerous. Not really.

All right, mountain climbing wasn’t great, but Danny had been careful, with equipment and partners and training and tools. It hadn’t lasted long, anyway. None of Danny’s fads did.

He wasn’t stupid, was he? Danny was not, Tim tells himself, stupid. That means there’s no excuse for this. “Danny, I don’t know about this.”

This is a book. A book Danny has evidently stolen from some cultists? Who beat him up in the process?

There is blood on Danny’s knuckles. “Just hide it,” Danny says, his face swollen, one eye completely shut, purple blooming below the other. “Don’t open it. Okay? Don’t. Don’t ever. But please, I… I can’t let them get this.”

It’s four a.m. Tim is not his best at four a.m. He might’ve functioned better an hour ago, but right now, he’s bleary, and feels like he’s trying to race while wearing socks on a grease-slicked floor. “There are cultists?” he says, a beat behind.

“Just take it.”

“But what… the hell? You need a doctor. Or the police.”

“No time.” And Danny gives him a tight, hard hug.

So that feels like a goodbye, and Tim swings from annoyed into terrified. “Danny, what—”

Danny actually kisses him on the cheek. Then he tugs his hoodie back over his face and takes off at a run.

By the time Tim’s foggy brain snaps, After him, idiot! it’s too late. Danny’s long gone. “Danny!” he shouts, trying anyway, running in his socks down the sideway, leaving his door fucking open behind him, but there is no sign.

Tim checks his phone. Danny has turned off location.

Tim goes back inside. Tim closes the door. Locks it.

It has to be a prank. Right?

He makes sure his windows are locked. He cannot go back to sleep.

Later, when the police come to ask him to identify the body, Tim knows he’s gone into shock because he can’t remember anything they said.

He forgets about the book.

Nigel is an asshole, but at least agrees to give him three weeks of compassionate leave. It’s publishing, for crying out loud. They can do without Tim for that long, and besides, he has a lot to do.

He has everything to do.

“I’m all that’s left, you know?” he tells the police, the morgue, the funeral director.

“I’m all that’s left, you know?” he says to friends as he arranges the burial, the shut-off of Danny’s utilities.

“I’m all that’s left, you know?” he tells Danny’s contacts who come by to take his things—folks who were friends only due to shared interests, and who, fortunately, have a use for all of Danny’s expensive toys.

Most of those toys are barely used. Danny never kept his hobbies long. Tim thinks he would have appreciated them going to folks who would use them.

He doesn’t know most of Danny’s contacts, anyway. Apart from a couple of weird, shady blokes who leave with nothing (except Tim’s severe dislike of them), most of the others at least seem nice, and sorry Danny’s gone, and they do Tim the solid of hauling stuff away.

And then it’s over, and the apartment’s emptied, and the furniture’s sold, and the funeral’s done, and Tim has two more weeks of compassionate leave to sit and cry alone.

He’s not okay, spinning his wheels.

He keeps thinking, I need to tell Danny what a shit week this has been, because it’s habit, because his brain won’t stop. He needs…

He needs Danny.

His parents’ house feels too big, even though he was already living in it alone. He can’t do this. Every corner reminds him of Danny. Every room carries echoes of a conversation, a laugh, a drunken joking argument. Something precious and forever lost.

“I’m all that’s left, you know?” he whispers to no one, and knows he has to move.

Nigel won’t give him more compassionate leave.

Well, homes in Woking go for a lot more than when mum’s parents bought the place. Once he sells the house, he'll be fine for a while. He quits.

“Five years climbing the publishing ladder, thrown away in an instant?” Nigel says as Tim signs his final paperwork. “It’s not too late. You can still choose not to ruin your life.”

My life is buried in Addlestone, he thinks, but chooses not to say.

A few people say goodbye, but most don't; Tim was too much for them, too friendly, too smart. A lot of them envied him, or resented his easy charm.

It’s odd, really: five years in the place, yet he doesn’t regret leaving it at all.

The house sells fast. Of course it does. An actual family home with a yard, in commuting distance of London? Yeah.

It’s while packing that Tim finds the book again.

That damned book. The book that got Danny killed.

It’s very weird. A strange black leather, and not one he recognizes; it feels thick, oddly squishy, and it’s a weird proportion, as well—too wide, uncomfortable to hold in one human hand.

It has a weird, three-hook symbol on the cover that Tim has never seen before, embedded, made of some sort of dull, yellow metal.

Danny died for this.

This thing. This… gods-damned piece of print and hide.

Should he take it to the cops? Probably. Fingerprints, or something.

He wants to fucking burn it.

“Doubt you have anything that matters in you, do you?” Tim says, and opens it on the off-chance some cultist wrote their phone number on page one.

How about that? There’s a bookplate. FROM THE LIBRARY OF JURGEN LEITNER, it says.

Well, well, well! They could do something with this! An actual name, identifiable, probably easy to match to other books in the guy’s—

There's a noise like rushing waves, like encroaching tsunami, and he only has time to think fuck, my eyes HURT before he is swallowed whole.

#crossover #tma #tma fic #malevolent #malevolent pod #malevolent fic #malevolent crossover #tma crossover #tim stoker #timothy stoker #danny stoker #hastur malevolent #kiy malevolent #corrupted fic

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sitp-recs · 2 years

Note

hello liv! i really wanna read some fics but i don't really know what kind and what recs to look at and such so, since i trust your taste i thought i'd ask if you could rec me some random fics? wether their your all time fav, new favs, recently read or a while ago, new ones, old ones, short or long reads, or just some random ones. (but pls let them have drarry as the main pairing and endgame)

thank uuuuuu

Hi anon! I’d be cautious about your request in the past because I usually like to know more about someone’s reading preferences but it was fun to come up with a random reclist :) I decided to go for a mix of old favourites and fics I haven’t recced in the blog before. I hope you enjoy them!

Ten Faves chosen randomly:

Phoenix in the Fire by @fw00shy (2021, E, 1.4k)

Their first time was an accident. "Sex pollen," Draco claims, though everyone knows it was too much Ogden's after Puddlemere beat the Tornados 240-230.

Mortal Frame by @tackytigerfic (2021, M, 6.6k)

Draco’s on a mission, and this time it's personal. But it's not easy to track down something that no one wants to talk about, especially when Harry Potter keeps popping up everywhere Draco goes.

break the bad luck in my life by seaworn (2019, E, 11k)

Draco and Harry are both brooding on Christmas Eve.

Voices From The Fog by noeon (2010, E, 13k)

After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

Turn and Face the Strange (time may change me) by @punk-rock-yuppie (2019, T, 16k)

Draco and Harry and how their relationship—and themselves—change over the course of eleven years.

Better To Burn Than To Fade Away by Ren (2017, E, 23k)

Harry Potter is a legend in the world of broomstick racing. He's won almost every cup, trophy, and bowl – except for the historical London-Nome which has been on hiatus for the past several years.

Doing the Lambeth Walk by @blamebrampton (2012, T, 26k)

There are only three traditional choices for the cashed-up hero after victory. Harry Potter is too young to settle down and provide the wizarding world with a happy ending, and has too acute a sense of humour to spiral downwards into a spectacular flame-out. That leaves a life of good works.

The Wand Slipped by sdk (2019, E, 35k)

After a messy, public divorce and a disgraceful exit from the Auror Department, Harry is trying to rebuild his life as a private investigator.

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice by lettered (2012, E, 54k)

Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

A Thousand Beautiful Things by geoviki (2004, M, 104k)

Draco Malfoy struggles with changed fortunes, shifted alliances, an ugly war, and an unusual spell, with the help of a concerned professor, an insightful house-elf, and an unexpected Gryffindor friend.

Ten fics I’ve never recced before:

Magpie by @corvuscrowned (2022, E, 4k)

Potter doesn't steal because he needs anything, Draco quickly learns. He doesn't do it because it makes him feel anything. It isn't about power, and it isn't about control. Potter just does it because he can.

acts of service by @oknowkiss (2022, E, 5.6k)

Harry's sick, and Draco just wants to take care of him, but they're two idiots in love, so it couldn't possibly be that easy.

Move, Move by @maesterchill (2021, M, 9k)

At Stasis nightclub Ginny does indeed give Harry drugs. But it's all good: Malfoy looks after Harry, and Harry grapples with newfound enlightenments, not to mention a newfound fascination with all things Malfoy—one which persists even when he finds out what Malfoy's up to.

The Thread Through the Labyrinth by mindabbles (2013, M, 11k)

Harry was twenty-one the first time it happened; he was twenty-one and falling in love for the first time. It seems he'll go back, travel through time, until he finds the anchor that keeps him here.

Sourdough by @academicdisasterfic (2021, M, 17k)

Draco writes romance novels and doesn't leave his apartment much. Harry bakes bread and sells it to Draco. Draco is quite weird. Harry might like that.

Violent Delights by @primaveracerezos (2021, E, 20k)

Draco Malfoy's life should be going very well. He's engaged to a wonderful man and in line for the Head Auror job. He's been made lead investigator on a serial murder case, trying to figure out who is killing off the scum of the wizarding world, one by one.

Survival of the Species by @romaine2424 (2007, E, 46k)

Draco approaches Harry on the 9 ¾ platform, after their sons have boarded the Hogwarts Express, and invites him over for tea. The discussion they have leads them on an adventure that neither could have expected. There be dragons!

Vis-à-Vis-à-Vis by @vukovich (2022, E, 50k)

Harry's assignment was simple. Close out Draco Malfoy's missing persons case so he can be declared dead. But who's making withdrawals from Malfoy's vaults? How is a death omen-turned-Unspeakable involved? Is an organization known as the Moirai to blame?

The Bolthole by aideomai, GallaPlacidia, Tepre (2020, E, 54k)

Harry is a hoarder, Draco is grief-stricken, and both are capable human adults who can definitely spend a month in a cottage in the Cotswolds together without ever talking about the time they slept together in eighth year. Yeah, no, totally.

Ocean of Storms by Bounding-Heart (2017, E, 113k)

The war is over and Harry has returned to help rebuild Hogwarts. He longs to move forwards, but the past refuses to let him go.

#asks #anon #random reclist

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cyberrat · 1 year

Text

66th Batch Of Fics: 14th Fill

Ganondorf/Link – kind of a cont of B64F16 – Part ½ – Fuck Pollen; Fuck-Or-Die – Ganondorf got bitten by a snake and Link is ordered to help him fuck it out by royal decree.

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Link hadn’t anticipated his next visit to the desert to be anytime soon, much less just a few months after he and the Princess had departed. Upon the urgent message reaching Hyrule Castle, however, he had taken their fastest horse to make his way back to the Gerudo realm – alone, this time.

He can’t deny that despite how dire the situation is, he feels not a small amount of eager anticipation. He’s no idiot, after all. He knows what it means to have been bitten by that particular kind of snake. The ones that only nest in Molduga territory and wouldn’t ever be encountered by normal folk – unless they were hunting for Molduga.

It would fit to the headstrong young Gerudo man he had met and conquered during that fateful night… and he can’t wait to conquer him once more.

By the time he finally arrives at the Gerudo palace, the fever raging inside Ganondorf’s body must be bad enough that they do not bother with their lengthy security checks and just usher him into the palace proper and toward the rooms they have securely locked their pride and joy away in.

The heat inside them is… surprising, especially since the palace has been constructed specifically to keep the desert outside out of its walls.

It all must stem radiating off of Ganondorf who is on the large bed dominating the room and glistening with the sweat pouring off of him. Link is hooked. He barely notices how the guards close the door behind him to give them a modicum of privacy… as if it weren’t perfectly clear what they are about to do.

The young stud’s cock is arching up into the air, his fist curled around it in an almost white-knuckled grip that has Link wincing. The tip is dark and angry looking. The snake’s poison is still raging in his body and trying to make him succumb to it. His hair has once been braided but most of the strands have managed to sneak their way out of the secure hold and fanned out around him like a fiery blanket.

Link has to pause as he struggles with the fastenings of his light armor to just stay and admire him for a moment. That is, until the young stud realizes that someone is inside the room with him.

Link can see the moment he pauses in his aimless writhing and his nostrils flare as if scenting him like an animal of some kind. In the next instant, Ganondorf’s head jerks around and his burning eyes are fixing on Link.

He is frozen to the spot by that stare, sweat pearling along his hairline. He has fought against many formidable opponents and the aura radiating off of the young stud right now is one he wouldn’t dare trifle with. The levity that had settled throughout his posture starts to drain out of him as he takes up on all the other signs; the welts on Ganondorf’s skin where he scratched himself almost bloody, the furniture around the room lying askew or downright broken after he must have went through it in a flying rage fuelled by the poison raging in his body.

Link lifts his hands, trying to communicate a calm air as he steps a little closer to him. Ganondorf lets go off his cock which stands at painful attention. As Link watches, a fat pearl of milky liquid starts to slide down the shaft. He has no idea how many times the stud has already pumped out a load but the closer he comes, the more he realizes just how the room reeks, especially the bed.

Saliva starts to collect in his mouth immediately, thick and oppressive. His body is warming up as if in sympathy, cock twitching with interest. He’s never heard of getting poisoned by proxy, but it feels very real in this moment.

Ganondorf is a big boy; he must have gotten the whole dose for him to be in this state. His eyes are burning into Link’s soul, willing him to finally give him what he needs while he himself seems too weak to go for it.

Link makes a low, soothing sound in his throat as he starts to undress. Ganondorf shifts suddenly and he freezes in his movements, looking up to stare at him. The young Gerudo stud has managed to move himself around onto all fours, surprisingly enough. There is a drop of sweat trembling on the tip of his long, regal nose.

Link resumes undressing. His cock springs out of his breeches at the first opportunity. He’s been hard for forever, it feels like. He wonders if he’s ridden from the castle with a raging erection. The whole trip to the Gerudo domain has been a fever dream of him trying to imagine the scenario he finds himself in now.

None of his fantasies had ever come close to this.

Ganondorf growls like a wolf when he sees his cock. He even bares his teeth at him, long fingers digging into the mattress and muscles straining against the golden rings wrapped around his biceps. Nobody had been able to take those off of him, it seems.

“Give it to me,” he demands, voice shot. His muscles are bulging, making him look twice as big as he is. An absolute mountain of a man. Link swallows thickly. He drops his pants and steps out of them, his own limbs feeling light and loose, his body ready to fight more than to fuck. But he’s here for the latter and he’s never been one to step down from a challenge.

He takes a step closer and Ganondorf moves forward, reaching out for him. He quickly dodges back again, feeling the light tickle of air as the young man’s hand swipes uselessly through the air.

Ganondorf looks more like a Linel than anything else, his bright red mane covering his back in wild swirls as he seems to try and figure out what to do next and whether wringing Link’s neck will be a good idea when he so dearly wants his cock.

Link clicks his tongue and waves at him to move away. For a long moment it looks like Ganondorf isn’t even understanding before he reluctantly shifts backwards, eying Link like a starving man.

Despite being about triple Link’s size, he is as docile as a cow now, moving back to the furthest corner of the bed as Link keeps shooing him away. He never blinks, eyes continuously on his prize… which is the cock bouncing awkwardly in front of Link as he gets himself situated on the bed. The sheets are damp with sweat and probably other bodily fluids but that’s not really on the forefront of his mind right now.

He settles himself in for the long haul, watching the young stud on the other side of the bed, and getting watched in turn. Goddesses, the last time he saw him he was so taciturn and shy… and now he is quite literally drooling for cock, humping the air and getting his junk swinging, droplets of pre-cum arcing through the air, glittering in the light of the torches.

Link makes a soft sound and waves him in. Ganondorf’s legs catapult him toward him within a heartbeat, his large body blocking out the light in the room.

#ganondorf/link #aphrodisiac #fuck or die #cyberratting writes stuff

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izzy-b-hands · 1 year

Text

What Happens To The Heart-Ch 1

A lil hate fucky initially then bittersweet sort of stizzy, in an au situation where Izzy finds Stede still skewered to the mast by his blade, instead of canon Lucius noticing it.

TW for the description of the sword being removed. It isn't super graphic, but it does reference it really being fkn stuck.

Got this up on my AO3 too if folks prefer to read there.

---

"For fuck's sake," Izzy scowls at the sight. "They left you here?!"

Stede waves, pale and shivering. "They did. All excited to go celebrate my victory."

"Mhm. Go enjoy it then," Izzy spits each word out. He should just leave now, forget waiting for the morning.

"I'd rather not," Stede winces. "At least not now. But not bad for a first duel, eh?"

Izzy blinks and stares and contemplates an answer.

He can't answer entirely negatively, and he's still angry and hurt and frustrated enough to find it upsetting.

"The gun powder trick was dirty," Izzy grumbles. "But good. Should keep that one in mind, since your skill with the sword needs so much work."

"You think so?" Stede asks, and it registers to Izzy that this stupidly angelic looking idiot is going into shock.

"Yeah," Izzy sighs. "Hang on."

He stomps towards the infirmary, past the jovial sounds of everyone in the galley, including Ed.

He doesn't want that to break his heart. Why should it? He knows what he and Ed have, and that it's the only thing they'll ever have. It's over now anyway, and he should let it go.

The closest he gets is angrily wiping away tears in between grabbing bandages and anything else he might need. He won't let anyone see that if he can help it.

"You're helping me," Stede says as Izzy approaches again. "You're helping me?"

"Shut the fuck up," Izzy replies, fighting to keep his voice from wavering. He keeps his head down as he sets supplies by the mast.

"I thought you'd be content to leave me here to die," Stede continues.

"Ed likes you," Izzy snaps his head back up to meet Stede's delirious gaze. "Ed..."

There are his inconvenient tears again. Like his balance and his stomach before, his eyes betray him now to his embarrassment. What nickname will they all assign him after he leaves? He doesn't want to know.

"Ed loves you; you fucking idiot," Izzy practically growls it and does his best to shut the tears down. "And it took nothing. All you had to do was be there and be incompetent and-"

"Izzy," Stede interrupts. "I-"

"Don't," Izzy says. "Here."

He strips off his leather glove, and puts it up to Stede's mouth.

"What am I supposed to do with-"

"Bite down on it," Izzy interrupts. "Unless you want everyone out here to see this. My luck, they'd think I was trying for a second go at killing you. They'd probably tear me to shreds, Ed included. But then that would be nice and neat a bow on it all for you, wouldn't it?"

Stede frowns, but opens his mouth and bites down.

"Okay," Izzy pulls off his leather vest, and wraps it around the sharp blade protruding from Stede. "I can't guarantee this will be out on the first try, but..."

He sighs, braces one foot up against the mast, and wraps his hands over the leather to grasp the blade. "Here goes nothing."

Stede lets out a muffled groan as Izzy tugs.

"Shhh," Izzy scolds. "I think we got some of it moving. Deep breath for me."

His arms burn with the effort of it, but a decent amount of the sword pops out as Stede screams around his glove.

"Hang on," Izzy says, and forces himself to keep pulling.

Finally, the blade is free and Stede drops to the deck, Izzy's glove falling from his mouth.

"You care," Stede teases as Izzy moves him over to work on his wound. "Or you wouldn't be doing this."

"You really don't shut the fuck up, do you?" Izzy scoffs. "Should warn Ed to soundproof the captains' quarters."

"Why?" Stede asks, all deathly pale and what seems genuine uncertainty in his eyes.

"I presume at some point you'll end up in bed with him," Izzy says awkwardly as he grabs the roll of bandages. "And if you're this loud here...well..."

He blushes and keeps his eyes on the blood and torn skin of Stede's torso. There is zero reason to like so much as any little thing about Stede. He's ruined what little Izzy had in his life.

Stede's hand touches his thigh, close as he leans past Stede to snag the bandages threatening to roll away with each sway of the ship.

"Don't," Izzy says, but there's no heat behind it this time. He's tired. So incredibly tired. All he's done is try and try and try for Ed, to do what he wants, what he needs. Even this, that he needs Stede alive and well with him.

Stede's hand stays there as Izzy sits back on his heels, palm flattening over the top of his thigh.

"I've never," Stede hesitates. "I mean, there was Mary, but that wasn't...I didn't..."

"You did enough for some heirs and that was it," Izzy suggests. He's nearly done fixing Stede up, and then he can drop him off at the galley and get the fuck away from them.

"Mostly, yeah," Stede admits. "I did try other times for her, but...I wasn't much of a husband in any way to her."

"Do your best not to be that useless to Ed," Izzy instructs. "Not that Ed would care, but for my sake. Look after him."

"Izzy," Stede says softly, wincing as Izzy helps him move again to sit up against the mast. "I have an odd thing to ask. Or...never mind."

"Spit it out so I can leave," Izzy says.

He rests his head back against the mast as he sits by Stede, eyes closed.

"May I..."

He hears Stede's voice hesitate.

Then, Stede's lips at the corner of his frowning mouth. Delicate and soft and uncertain.

He opens his eyes and turns his head to Stede.

He looks for all the world like he's ready to run away. Izzy wants to laugh bitterly, to remind him that he's the one running away. Stede, on the other hand, has found his place.

His hand cradles Stede's face as he kisses him back. Closed mouth, because he's not certain Stede wants anything more, but he lets everything he's feeling flow into the energy of the kiss.

Stede's forehead rests against his as the kiss ends, both of their eyes closed.

When Izzy opens his eyes, Stede's flutter open too.

"You'll enjoy that better with Ed," Izzy says shakily as he moves his head back from Stede's. His plans for revenge against Stede have fallen away from him far more fluidly than he expected. He may not be happy with Stede, but he isn't wholly angry anymore either.

And he liked the kiss. More than he wants to admit to himself.

So be it then. He'll leave, and go somewhere other than the Republic of Pirates as he had planned.

He's not sure where else he'll go, but he'll find somewhere.

"I didn't hate it with you," Stede murmurs. "I don't know what to do with that."

"Good," Izzy says. "Because I didn't hate it, and I don't know what to do with it either."

"Are you still going to leave?" Stede asks quietly.

"Rules are rules, aren't they?" Izzy asks back. "You won. I'm banished."

"Surely there's some wiggle room."

Izzy looks at him in wonder. "No, that's not much of a pirate thing."

"Maybe it should be."

Izzy stands and retrieves his vest. Slips it back on, then does the same with his glove. In the soft worn leather are marks from Stede's teeth, deep enough they'll be a permanent engraving.

He goes back to Stede and offers him a hand up.

Wordlessly, he helps direct Stede to the galley, ignoring the questioning gaze he can feel from him.

"Izzy," Stede says, pausing before the galley doorway. "I'm the captain. I'm a captain, of this vessel. Let me-"

Izzy gently pushes him against the wall, and kisses him hard.

At first he can tell Stede has no idea what to do with his tongue, but after a second, it seems to register.

He pulls back after another second. "Let Ed know I'm leaving now, yeah?"

"Please don't," Stede replies. "I... don't know what to say about all of this. How to feel about y-"

"Don't spend another moment on that," Izzy interrupts. "Goodbye, Bonnet."

He leaves Stede there, and gathers what little he owns from his room. He'd put together some food from the galley earlier, hidden away when Roach wasn't nearby, and that joins his other bag on his shoulder.

A rope ladder gets him down to the dinghy he's lowered to the waves, and he tosses it hard so most of the ladder lands back on the deck.

Izzy gives one last look up to the rail of the deck. He knows Ed isn't there. And now, not even Stede. Not that he really expected either of them to actually come out and stop him.

Then he sighs, and sets to rowing away towards a barely visible stretch of sand and trees. At the very least, he'll have somewhere to rest his head for the night.

#text post #ofmd fic #stizzy

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marymusexoxo · 1 year

Text

"A Test of Loyalty" - Part 1 🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸

🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸

"What will we do with a drunken sailor... what will we do with a drun ken sailor..." 🎶

The door opens, followed by hushed voices.

"Aye, I've got him. Give me an hour."

The door closes. Footsteps. A shadow looms closer.

"...what shall we do with a drunken sailor, early in the morning~" 🎶

A creak.. a pause. A chuckle.

You jolt awake as a bucket of cold water washes over you. Gasping for air & feeling like a fish out of water, you cry out, "FUCK!"

You hear more laughter. You try to rub your eyes but realize that your arms are tied behind you.

... Fuck. You look around, taking in your surroundings. There's a fire burning in the corner, a bed, a small table with a few glasses and chairs, and one small window in a small, dark room.

Mary stands before you, smirking. "Up late last night- were we, sailor?" she teases, already knowing the answer.

"Word is..." she crosses the room, swinging playfully around the pillar in the center of the floor, "... you were blabbering God knows what to the folk in town about our little trip to the northern isles..."

"I swear, I didn-" you stammer. You inwardly curse your stars.

"Save it." she interrupts, waving her hand. "This isn't an interrogation." she drags a chair behind her as she makes her way across the room.

"It's your punishment."

You gulp, eyeing the various weapons hung on the first mate's belt. Your eyes scan the room for other various vehicles of your demise... Taking a wide stance, she sits before you and begins unlacing her boots. You blink and shake your head.

"Listen- I barely even talked! Just had my eye on the baker's daughter, that's all, I swear. Told some big stories, tried to impress her- but I didn't even mention pirates, honest!" you blurt out, hoping your words are true- but struggling to remember past the haze of the baker's mead from the night before.

Mary raises her eyebrow at your desperation, "Yes, I'm aware. And you know who's daughter that was?" she smirks, but you see a fire burn behind those piercing green eyes of hers. "Not the baker's, you tw at," she removes her coat, tossing it on the table. "It was the damn Governor's daughter, you idiot!"

You exhale sharply, praying to God that you didn't expose your entire crew to danger. "I-I didn't know- she said-"

"And you believed her?" Mary laughs, standing again, "I wish I'd gotten a better look at her," she takes a swig of her goblet at the table, "Must have had tits of an angel to get your guard down so easy."

You squirm uncomfortably, feeling your arms begin to lose circulation. "Ma'am, please- I'll do anything. I'd never make fools of our crew, I'd lay my life down for the Devil's Companion!" you exclaim.

Mary stands facing away from you as she unhooks her belt from her hip, laying her weapons out on the table, "Keep going sailor, I like it when you beg," she looks back and winks at you, and your trousers begin to feel tight.

"Ma'am-" you begin, voice raspy with thirst, aching after your long night. You hear the clink of glass and moments later, she returns to your chair, holding a glass to your lips.

"Drink, sailor." she says quietly. "And call me Captain."

You sputter as she pours the water into your mouth, "B-but you're not-" she yanks the glass from your lips, and grasps your hair roughly, pulling your head back to whisper in your ear...

"I am your life line here, Sailor-" she straddles your chair with her legs, her breasts hanging in line with your mouth. "And you should be grateful the captain let me handle your punishment." she suddenly grabs your crotch firmly, and the breath leaves your lungs. "I get an hour to do with you as I please."

She pulls back, crossing the room once again. "And I've decided..." she twists around the beam once more, "You need a little reminder about where your loyalty lies."

You gulp, feeling guilty, nervous & excited all at once. "It's with you & the crew, Ma'-Captain."

Mary smiles as she straddles your chair again, looking down at you lovingly. "That's right..." she says sweetly, stroking the hair on your head lightly, drawing her finger down the side of your face, under your chin. She leans down, nearly touching your lips with her own, "And that's why you get to sit and watch me, right in that chair. And if you're a good boy, I'll untie you."

🔸🔸🔸🔸��

Hope you enjoyed the first part of this little pirate story! Check my bio to see how you can read the rest~ xoxo, Mary

#fiction #writing #short story #chapter 1 #chapter one #pirates #pirate story #pirate smut #smut #lemon #marysuexoxo #preview #a test of loyalty

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ontowanderlust · 2 years

Text

SYPNOSIS. What do you do when you couldn't find the right words to say? You express yourself through different means, of course. But what about years worth of things left unsaid? Well then, what better way to do so than express it through a mixtape, right?

PROMPT. Prompt #23 [The Way You Said "I Love You"]: Through a song

TROPES. S2F2L; Idiots in love; Slow Burn; Two timelines; Non-linear storylines

WC. 19k words. (Longest fic of mine as of the late. Yes, I am so happy and satisfied. 😌)

WARNINGS. Unedited; Grammatical errors; This fic is written in tagalog so most of the story won't make sense to some; Slow burn. You know what that means, folks. [angst. lots of it.]

NOTES. I had been contemplating whether to post it here or in wordpress but since I've gotten too used to tumblr's features, I chose to post it here under this account. Forgive me as it's been a while since I last used this style of writing [I call this one: my wattpad-ish style] so if you see any inconsistencies in grammar or if it's a bit clumsier, you know why. This fic is also a commissioned piece- some parts are written in tagalog so please bear with me, non-filo tumblr users.

DEDICATION. There is beauty in stories. It’s where you can escape when reality hits too hard. And while people may not know it but sometimes, all we ever need are just little opportunities for an escape. Just for a little bit. And so this is for you, dearest. Belated happy birthday. Hope it's worth the wait.

She must've been really tired than what she had expected because for some reason, the counter that separates the living room and kitchen had been void of clutter.

Why, earlier this morning, she couldn't even take a glimpse of the marble top of that same counter since she and her roommate just loved dumping all of their stuff there. So we could see our stuff easier, Rianne had reasoned out. Oh the irony.

So why is she looking at a clutter free counter?

Taking a step forward, her eyes narrowed as she found a single parcel lying on the counter with her name written on it.

Was Rianne trying to prank her again? Hasn’t she learn her lesson last month?

Before she could even spiral down her thoughts, the phone in her hand buzzed with a message from the devil herself.

What the hell.

Furrowing her eyebrows, she reached over the post it note stuck on the parcel, confusion written all over her face.

You know how I'm shit at expressing my thoughts so I figured, if I can't tell you directly, what better way than to tell you the best way I know how, right?

Kinda old school, but here's a mixtape of some of the music I found myself listening into these past few months. I hope they convey what this heart of mine can't.

So. Will you listen?

Despite the nondisclosure of the sender's identity, the neat handwriting had given it away. Scoffing to herself, she swiped the parcel from the counter, pushing all rampaging emotions deep down.

The nerve of this guy to send cryptic parcels and vague post its when he hadn't even bothered staying in contact after graduation. Ano, wala lang sa kanya yung pinagsamahan nila? Ah so that's how it is, huh?

Come to think of it, it's quite weird that Rianne seemed to know a thing about this package even if her message says otherwise. Was she still in speaking terms with Cj? Not to be that person but she would've thought Rianne would be the last person Cj would get in contact with. After all, it wasn't a secret that the two had acted civilly just for her sake.

So- since when are they close enough that Rianne would willingly let her roommate borrow one of her prized possessions? Was there something she missed?

Traipsing her way to her roommate's room, she ignored the way her stomach would flutter as she searched for Rianne's vintage speaker- the one gifted to her by her boyfriend- which is kinda odd that she would let her borrow it considering all the times she tried telling her friend multiple times that owning a vintage item would be the start of every horror films.

Ah but then again, this is Rianne and if her friend's in need, she would still let them borrow her stuff- despite the slander she had spoken against that speaker.

Heaving out a small sigh, she gingerly took the speaker before going to her room, unwrapping the parcel only to find a single cassette.

Well. Only one way to find out then.

-=-

Now Playing: Atin ang Mundo 0:46 ─ㅇ─────── 4:13

Paglingon ikaw agad ang nakita, di maiiwasan na ikaw ay titigan.

He noticed her first.

Oh how he noticed her in a room full of people whose attention had either been towards one of his friends who had been cracking jokes in his abnormally (affectionate) loud voice or the group of people arguing about the latest gossip just in front of them.

She always chose the second row, right wing of the room, aisle seat which baffled him at first because- who would want to sit in the professor's line of sight where the probability of getting called during recitations were at high rate- only to understand where her sentiments lie when he realized just how soft spoken this professor was. Should he switch seats as well? It’s not like he’s learning anyway, right?

That, and he had learned from someone that she had poor eyesight, something he inwardly winced at. This professor of theirs is not only soft spoken that he suspected only dogs could hear that decibel level but they also wrote in miniscule lettering. Nagtitipid ba ‘to ng space or what?

Despite their professors obvious flaws, it’s not worth exchanging seats, nope.

Actually, he'd prefer if he is seated two rows behind her just... because. That could mean a lot of reason, right? Not just the fact that his interest on her grew each passing day, nope. Maybe it could mean that he just doesn't want to answer the professor's questions or maybe it could mean that he wanted to play mobile games discreetly.

See, there could be a lot of reasons he could make up on why he always always chose to sit on the fifth row, left wing of the room, second chair to the aisle and no, it's not because he had been staring at the girl with ridiculously huge glasses that it framed half of her face, weird hair style that could use just a little bit of brushing or iron- whichever she prefers, no judgment there- and a permanent glare that often sends people running to the opposite side of the room or- from what he had heard, gives them the ominous chill (trademarked) that often gets associated with psychopaths.

Truthfully, the moment he had set foot in this department, there had already been rumors circulating around and more often than not, it sounds terrible and paints her a not so good image.

But if she were terrible, he mused, his head unconsciously tilting. Then shouldn't she be shunned instead? From what he could tell, she had at least three friends by her side. And from what he had gathered, two of those friends of hers happen to have good reputation for themselves, in terms of academics that is. Though, it’s not like she’s a problematic student when it comes to academics, that he could see. But perhaps, her reputation as someone unapproachable painted her in a bad light.

So which among her rumors are true then? Oh how he wis-

Before he could even spiral down his thoughts, he could feel a sharp jab to his side making him glare at the person beside him who had this annoying knowing look on his face.

"Baka matunaw," his friend gently warned, chuckling at the automatic eye roll he had earned from him. "Seriously, CJ, you're wasting your time with that fleeting interest of yours." he continued, knowing what- or rather, who's consuming his thoughts.

Cj hummed, a small smile slowly creeping across his mouth albeit the annoyed expression he is currently sporting. "Who said anything about fleeting interest?"

His friend's amused expression quickly morphed into bemusement, exasperation seeping through his eyes. "I'm telling you this now, nothing good will come if you associate yourself with her. I'm trying to save you from becoming the object of her piercing glare."

"She's not Medusa, you know."

"She might as well be,"

Scoffing, he jerked his head slightly towards the girl who had been sitting beside their subject who is now being engaged into a small talk.

"See, hindi naman nagiging bato si ate girl na kausap niya." he argued, earning a small groan from his friend. "Makes me wonder... do you think I won't turn into stone if it were me to talk to her?"

His friend stared at him for a bit, shoulders shrugging in defeat as he heaved out a sigh. Sometimes, he just couldn’t understand what goes in his friend’s mind. "You're going to talk to her nevertheless, aren't you?"

Grinning, he let out a small chuckle. "Better yet, I'm gonna befriend her."

-=-

"The first time I saw you," she jumped at the suddenness of his voice as she stared at Rianne's speaker, wondering if it was one of those possessed shit they usually see in horror movies. (How many times had she been telling her roommate that owning shit like this would most likely result to haunting? Or worse, possession?)

"You were an urban legend. People don't like you because of your piercing gaze. Kala nga nila nun you were the embodiment of Medusa."

The fucker had the audacity to laugh. What the fuck. If it weren't for the fact that she didn't know where he lived, she would've choked him to death. She could only imagine his amused look as he record this shitty of a commentary.

"My friends told me not to get involved. They told me I'm wasting my time. And siguro, at the time I do like challenges or maybe it's because I'm bored but I told them I'm gonna befriend you."

"You, out of all the people enrolled in Doc Hina's class."

-=-

Now Playing: Fine Time 0:13──ㅇ─────3:02

I hope we could spend more time together, a few hours is better than never. If we could only make it longer, a whole day would be fine.

"Nandito ka na naman?" oh if looks could only kill, he would've been six feet under by now.

They really weren't kidding about how her glare could pierce even the sturdiest material known to man, huh? But of course, what an exaggeration it was for how can he still be alive with all the glares she had thrown his way?

Or baka masamang damo lang talaga ako, he mused as he gave her his most charming grin (try: annoying shit eating grin that could most likely earn him a punch or two) as he sat down next to her, waving to their silent audience of one (the same girl who he learned was a dear friend of Monique) who looked all too amused with what was going on.

"Didn't I say I was gonna see you again soon?" he asked in response to her question albeit her rude tone. "And besides, I did say that I wanted to be your friend and friends hang out so..." he purposely dragged his words as he gestured to the review materials he had oh so graciously placed on their table.

Looking at her, his expression morphed into an all too pleading one. "...let me review with you?"

"No." not even missing a beat, she gave him her most deadpanned look as she went back to reading while at his peripheral view, Rianne's mouth pressed into thin line, obviously hiding her amusement at the on-going conversation.

Normally, this is where people usually give up, retreating with their tails tucked in between their legs but not him. If anything, this had just spurred him to do better.

And do better, he shall.

"Ah but as you can see," he purposely let out a small sigh, earning a raised eyebrow from the girl across them while Monique simply ignored him. "All of the tables are occupied and yours is the only one that could accommodate one more person."

"So?"

"I'm saying wouldn't it be better for you guys to share this table since you still have space and all?"

"Both of us are claustrophobic. Adding one more person to this table is an invasion of our personal bubble."

A small snicker in front had her jerking her knee to kick her friend on her shin, causing the table to jerk slightly.

Staring at the unbothered girl, he decided to lean forward, catching her attention as she looked up at him partly surprised and partly annoyed. "Didn't you just hear what I said? What part of it did you not understand?"

"The part where you said you were both claustrophobic. Why, if I recall correctly, don’t you two hug on a regular basis as a form of greeting? So, hindi ba ‘invasion of personal bubble’ yung ginagawa niyo?" he asked, making her eyes widen. For a second there, he swore he had seen one of her eyes twitched at his remark but maybe that was just a trick of the light?

Gotcha.

Her jaw dropped as her eyes squinted in suspicion. "Were you watching us? Are you a fucking creep?"

"I was merely pointing out my observation. Besides, creepy na ba agad kung lagi niyong ginagawa yun sa public space?" he countered as he leaned back, mouth curling into a smug smile when he saw her falter with her words.

"Yes it's creepy," she fired back, her reading materials now abandoned in favor of him. "No one would willingly watch random people go about with their daily activities. Especially not with us."

"Why's that?" he hummed as he placed his elbow on top of the table, cheek resting on his palm. "Look, I just want to sit with you guys, is that too much of a bother?"

"Yes. Kanina ka pa sagabal, actually. Learn to take a hint, will you?" waving her hands in a shooing motion, she then gave him a scathing look. "So please lang, pwede bang lumayas ka na? We're not comfortable with having a stranger sit with us."

"Why didn't you say so? "Yun lang naman pala eh." Brightening, he managed to find his opening as his hand straight up took hers, vigorously shaking it. "The name's Christian pero hindi ako mabait eh so just call me Cj."

Oh how he wished he had his camera with him. With the stunned look on her face, he could only imagine her thoughts are filled with nothing but curses and questions about his sanity and audacity. He had a feeling that he had been pushing his luck since the beginning but what he had just done would be the reason for his demise.

Lord, baka naman gusto mo akong tulungan dito. Kakapakilala ko lang sa kanya masyadong maaga pa kung kukunin niyo na ako after nito.

Just before she could even open her mouth- probably to shout at him (or kill him, whichever comes first), her friend had beaten her to it.

"Well, well..." they both turn their heads towards their audience, her eyes twinkling in delight as her eyes shifted her gaze from their faces towards their interlocked hands, her mouth curling into an amused smile. "Mukhang nakahanap ka na ng katapat mo, Monique." she commented, sending her a knowing look before nodding at him in acknowledgment as she went back to her studies.

He could feel the hostility from his side softening as he turned his attention back to her only to see her snatch her hand from his as she grumbled underneath her breath.

"This means nothing, Christian na hindi mabait. You're still a stranger to us."

Letting out a small sigh of relief, he could feel himself relaxing as he discreetly looked up with shit eating grin plastered on his face. She's saying that now but wait till he charms her! Oh but first things first...

The best ka talaga, Lord!

-=-

"So ayun, I was on a mission to be your friend. Kaso langya naman Monique, you make it so hard to approach you!" she couldn't help the small giggles escaping before her hand slapped over her mouth in an attempt to control it. "Sana masaya ka at nagmukha akong desperado nung mga panahong gusto ko lang naman makitable sa inyo."

"Ang hirap grabe. Though, I guess it could be karma because- well, the intention sprouted from boredom but then, when you finally talked to me? Shet, kaya mo akong sabayan. And I couldn't help but think, the best nga talaga si Lord for giving me persistence otherwise, I wouldn't have known what an awesome person you are."

-=-

Now Playing: Asan ka na ba? 0:23 ──ㅇ─────── 3:55

Nasa'n ka na ba, maghihintay nga ba? Para 'kong tangang nalulungkot sa wala

"Ay wow, it looks like the elusive prince charming had finally graced us his presence," one of his friends bellowed as the rest hollered while the others laughed boisterously, making him raise his eyebrows at their antics. "Quick, somebody give him a drink before he change his mind!"

"Or worse, might bail on us cause his girlfriend came calling!"

Another round of laughter ensued as they continue enumerating possible causes why he couldn't be with them.

"Mamaya niyan di pala kasi alam ng jowa niya na andito siya!" Taking a seat next to his friend, he smacked the back of his head, rolling his eyes as he shot a glare towards him. "The fuck you're going on about, Rob? Hinay hinay lang sa kakainom, pwede ba? Kakarating ko lang at ayokong umalis nang maaga."

"Oh dear lord, there's two of them!" someone in the background laughed at Rob's statement, making him frown. Was there an inside joke that he failed to understand? "Totoo pala yung nakukuha mo yung mannerisms ng jowa pag palagi kayong magkasama no?"

Staring at his inebriated friend, he gave him a lopsided grin as he slung his arms over his shoulder, offering him a glass to which Cj downed in seconds.

With the company he's with? He'd definitely needed more than just a glass of beer. "Speak clearly, Rob. What's with you guys and this girlfriend nonsense? Ano, nag materialize bigla jowa ko out of nowhere?"

Letting out a small tsk, Rob looked at him as if he was deciding if he was joking or not. "You're still sober," he mused, flagging a passing waiter for another round of drinks. "Di mo ba pansin na you kept ditching us to hang out with that little girlfriend of yours? Sana pinapakilala samin no? Whatever happened to us being your ride or die? Grabe, nagkagirlfriend lang and suddenly you have no time for us, shame."

Scoffing, he shrugged off his arm from his shoulder, reaching over for another glass, flipping the drunken man the finger. "One, sinong may sabing girlfriend ko siya? Di ba pwedeng maging friends ang opposite sex? Two, that one time I hadn't been able to come, ditching na agad yun? And three, di ba pwedeng busy lang?"

"Busy pursuing that medusa girl!" someone from their circle piqued to which he easily shot a glare at, making her cackle before shrinking to her seat.

"Oh god there's really two of them!"

"Are you sure sa mga desisyones mo sa buhay, Christian?!"

"Can you guys stop with the medusa jokes already? I swear, para kayong mga bata- just because there had been rumors surrounding the person, does it make it alright for you to call her names?" his voice had started to raise but with the chuckles emerging from different sides of the room, he couldn't press down the annoyance bubbling within him.

"So would you rather us call her your girl instead?"

"Mukhang ganun na nga, he hadn't been correcting us ever since we started the girlfriend jokes!"

"Ah so should we refer to her as The girlfriend, ganern?"

"The chosen one!"

"Guys, ano ba?" he bit off, gritting his teeth as the rest of them kept on hollering. "Enough already."

"Wait, wait! I think I have one more- ang nagpatibok sa tigang puso ni Christian!"

"That's a fucking mouthful! What if-"

"Enough!" he bellowed, the noise surrounding the group slowly faded as he looked at them in the eye. "My god, tama na pwede ba? You guys are adults so fucking act like one."

The silence was too deafening as all eyes of the room fell on him. Can he blame them? It was a bit out of character for him to be pissed over something he could've laughed off.

Why was he pissed anyway? There's nothing wrong with what they were saying, he could've denied everything they were playfully accusing him.

"You're awfully too easy to rile this evening, Ceej," James’ voice cut the tension down as he turned to meet his gaze. "Katuwaan lang 'to, we're not trying to imply something. Unless..."

"Unless nothing," he cut him off harshly to which the other man shrugged off before turning back to his companion as the buzzing noise slowly returned until they all went back to their respective conversations as if what had transpired did not happen at all.

"Aight," Rob's voice is surprisingly calm coming from someone who had been too close to being inebriated few minutes ago. "What was that all about?"

He knew that outburst would pique his friend's curiosity and knowing Rob, drunk or not, he wouldn't just let it go without getting the answers he wanted.

"Nothing," even so, it couldn't hurt to try and deflect the man from getting the answers he wanted but seeing the disbelieving look on his face, Cj rolled his eyes before swiping another drink to drown himself into. Can't he get drunk any faster? "Look, it just doesn't feel right to hear that the person I've befriended's being called different names. And I wouldn't want any misunderstanding that may evolve into rumors, okay?"

He didn't know what's more unsettling, the stares or the prolonged silence, and so groaning, he turned to meet his gaze. "What?"

Humming, his friend had the audacity to smirk before reaching for another glass- looks like them leaving earlier than expected is inevitable after all. "You're playing a dangerous game, Ceej. Especially since you're unaware of it."

Their staring game seemed to reach for an impasse as Cj took the glass out of his reach, prompting him to stand up. "You've had your fill now," he announced, pushing the man to stand up. "Tara na bago pa tayo palayasin dito."

Shaking his head, the inebriated man let out a small satisfied hum. "Are you sure you can see it through?" he slurred, making Cj freeze.

"What the fuck are you going on about now?"

"Hmm... I wonder."

If only this bar prohibited fist fights, he would've punched him already. Well, he still can- it's just that, he had already caused one awkward situation, it would be embarrassing to start another one.

"Robert, I swear-"

"Just... be careful, dude." Rob cut him off, slinging his arms once more over his shoulder as Cj began walking beside him. "As much as I wanted to see you humiliate yourself on a daily basis, I'd rather you not get hurt."

-=-

"My friends weren't exactly the perceptive type. Well, not like Rianne," by the time his voice came around, she had gotten a bit comfortable, chin tucked over a pillow she had been hugging as she listened. "So imagine mo, they had been teasing me ever since I began spending my time with you. You know the drill- they think I had hots over you cause I've been putting too much effort in being your friend."

"I think I even caused a scene because I've been vehemently denying all their teasing kasi hindi ba pwedeng maging magkaibigan ang magkaibang kasarian? My god." hearing the exasperated tone from him had her fighting off a smile before dropping it completely. How was it that he keeps having that effect on her? "But you know what, Monique? They were on to something," he let out a small shuddering sigh.

"And that scared me."

-=-

Now Playing: Upuan

1:38 ───ㅇ───── 4:32

Isang tingin mo lang hanggang dun na lang ako.

Minsan, nakakabadtrip din ang pagiging isang overthinker.

Isipin mo yun, he rarely uses his brain for the things that required critical thinking like say, school works, perhaps? Tas bigla bigla na lang sasabay ang pagooverthink mo sa mga bagay na di naman dapat pagtuunan ng pansin like say, feelings.

So yes, nakakabadtrip ang pagiging overthinker. And he is definitely not amused.

And yet, here he was, lying eagle spread just at the corner of the campus' quad, staring blankly at the clear skies, head empty except for thoughts about certain... things.

Well, to be more precise, a certain person.

Were his thoughts useless? Never. Thinking about his friends had never been useless, not to him anyway. It's just that, when feelings are involved then that perhaps is where things get useless.

Emotions, he came to realize, are trivial thing. You either feel, or you don't. And the last time he checked, emotions aren't tied with friends- not the emotions that would give you reason to overthink, anyway.

Friends... are there during happy moments, and they are also there whenever you needed someone to lean on during your lowest.

At least, that's how he see it.

So. What's up with these stray thoughts, then?

Thoughts wherein he'd suddenly have this urge to pull her close, to reach for her even when she's just a few steps away. Maybe these urges flare up when she's just... right there.

And maybe, he'd always acted upon these urges whenever he had the chance, always justifying it by saying it's crowded at the hallways or if the situation calls for it, in the pretext that he was just looking out for her safety whenever they were walking just along the sidewalk.

Sometimes, his straying thoughts weren't always about subtle touches. Sometimes, it's about how their gazes lingered more than necessary during these past few days- perhaps even more than how she looked at that up and coming professor.

And if his brain is feeling too productive, his thoughts might even waddle over the fact that she had finally started to open up to him, filling him with blooming hope that all his efforts had finally started to come to fruition- something he couldn't understand himself.

See? Useless, useless things.

Ah, he should be preparing for his next class. Hell, he should be worrying about the difficulty of the exam he hadn't bothered studying for. ("Bakit mo ba lolokohin sarili mo, hmm?" a little voice at the back of his head whispered.)

And yet, here he was. Consumed by nothing but these conflicting emotions that he could only feel whenever she's-

"Huy! Christian! What the fuck are you doing just lying there?" Startled, he found his view being blocked by Monique, the expression on her face looked like a mix of weirded out and flat out concerned for his sanity. "Di naman sa nangaano, ha? Pero mukha kang mas tanga than usual."

He didn't think that such combination of expressions exist and most importantly, he didn't think she'd be able to pull it off- ah, Jesus Christ. What on earth has been happening to him?

"I'm resting, can't you see?" he found himself answering as his free hand patted the space next to him, earning a bemused expression from her.

"You do realize we have class in like, five minutes, right?" chuckling, she began nudging him with her foot, making him reach out to her free hand, pulling her next to him.

Her landing just right to his chest, an oof escaping her lips had his mind screaming how bad of an idea it was to pull her in without thinking the consequences.

Is it just him or is it becoming hotter than usual?

"Why bother showing up for an exam when you know you're gonna fail anyway?" he mumbled, clearing his throat. Is he coming off with a flu? Right in the middle of summer season?

Laughing, she shoved him off as she stood up, offering her hand for him to take. "Uh-huh, wag mo akong idamay sa mga kalokohan mo, pwede ba?"

Looking up, he couldn't help his breath hitching just as his eyes met hers, the light surrounding her had gone seemingly brighter, the chatter around them becoming nothing but pleasant white noise.

Ah, shit.

-=-

"Alam ko naman na may pag ka-goldfish ang memory mo so I wouldn't bother asking you to remember but there was a time- out of all our campus' quad shenanigans- when you found me lying on the grass and you said- and I quote, 'mas mukha kang tanga than usual'," his voice came out light and airy as if he was trying to be nonchalant about it but something within her tells her that he's been all too consumed by the memory.

'You're wrong', she'd want to interrupt him before he could even feel melancholic about the memory. 'I remember that time all too well.'

"Ang di mo alam, I was too far up in my headspace that time. Too busy overthinking things and you know that nothing good comes with overthinking, di ba? But there I was 'nagmumukhang mas tanga than usual' because I've been too busy thinking of our dynamics." furrowing her eyebrows, she looked over Rianne's speaker with an unreadable expression on her face, willing for the sentient object to sprout out answers.

What did he mean by that?

"And then bigla ka na lang umeksena as usual." aaand he is back with his playful tone. Goodness, Cj. Couldn't you be straightforward just for once? "Okay na sana eh kaso panira ka talaga, Monique! But... y'know, Ben and Ben were right- isang tingin mo lang, hanggang dun na lang ako."

-=-

Now Playing: Ikaw Lamang

0:10 ─ㅇ───────── 5:26

'di ko maintindihan ang nilalaman ng puso, tuwing magkahawak ang ating kamay. Pinapanalangin lagi tayong magkasama, hinihiling bawat oras kapiling ka.

"So nasaan ang anino mo ngayon? Mahina ba ang sinag ng araw?" the suddenness of Rianne's voice had him freezing in his tracks, eyes widening as he looked up only to sigh in relief when he saw the two girls seated a table away from the bookshelf beside him.

"The fuck you're talking about, di ba ayaw mong naarawan ka?"

Maybe it had been a few days since he last interacted with them for how could a simple statement from the girl he had been unconsciously hiding from had his heart beating wildly against his chest?

God, how could her voice affect him that much? Granted, it was simply her usual fuck off tone.

"I swear, I'm surrounded by idiots," he could hear the rolling of Rianne's eyes as she muttered, the sound of rhythmic tapping can be heard between the two friends as silence followed, the shift in the air had became a little bit palpable. "Did something happen between the two of you kasi for some unknown reason, ang lawak ng table and I've already took out all of my reviewers, plus my laptop."

Stifling a laugh, despite Rianne's complaints of how he took up the space when he began joining them at their table, she still let him have the space next to Monique whenever he's around.

"Not that I'm complaining," her voice brought him out of his musings. "But for some reason, ah how do I say this? Parang you looked as if may kulang sa’yo? If that ever make sense."

His head perked up. He wasn't the type to eavesdrop on others' conversation, this he swore. In fact, those two girls loved rumors more than he did. It's just that, when it comes to Monique, he just couldn't help but stop and listen.

There's always something about her that had him stopping in whatever he's doing and just listen... whether the rumor be bad or not. He liked to think he always wanted to see for himself if they were true or not.

Making himself comfortable by slumping against the bookshelf he had so graciously hid himself from them, he waited for Monique's inevitable scoff, all too aware he had pissed her off with how she tried to brush off her friend's prying earlier.

Hearing a scoff, he let out a small grin as if celebrating a small victory. Whoop, there it is.

"The hell? Tignan mo nga, sinisiksik mo na ako sa dulo oh. Paano mo nasabi na may kulang pa?" Ah, these two. It will always be live entertainment so long as he hang out with them, won't it?

Shuffling could be heard at the other side, making him wonder if they had engaged in a playful fight that had him wishing he's in Rianne's position instead of sitting against the cold floor.

"So, ano nga?" he heard Rianne probed after rounds of shuffling and giggling had subsided between the two of them. "Where's that giant of a shadow-"

"Ewan ko, okay?" Monique snapped, earning a sudden bout of silence between the two of them. He didn't need to be there to see the suddenness had startled Rianne as it did to him. "Sabihin mo nga sakin, may ginawa ba akong masama sa kanya or anything for that matter or something na nakakaoffend na bigla na lang siya mang-g-ghost? May nang-g-ghost ba na kaibigan? Ha?"

Just as she had uttered the last line, collective 'shhs' can be heard throughout the area, making her huff in annoyance as he could imagine her shrinking to her seat while her friend gave her an amused look.

Oh how he wanted to see it all. How tempting it must be to give himself away if it weren't for his curiosity getting the best of him.

"Well, well..." he could feel his heart dropping as he heard Rianne perk up, immediately sensing that whatever it is that is about to leave the girl's lips would not help his case. "'Ghost' isn't a term I would use. Try mo 'drop'. As in din-rop ka niya as a friend."

For the first time in his twenty something years, the urge to commit murder had never felt so strong.

"Ikaw ba ay nangiirita or nagc-comfort?"

"...both? I think both. Okay, wait. Seryoso na." the fucker had the audacity to laugh. Which method of murder best suit her? "Again, my statement stands. You guys are both idiots." The sound of Monique's muted protest tells him the fucker had flicked his friend's forehead.

"Rianne, isa." Monique warned, earning a tsk from her. "Can’t you just go and I dunno, fuck off for a few minutes or so?”

“Sure. But answer me this first, bakit affected ka?” she asked immediately before Monique could even put another word in. “You, who gave no flying fuck towards other people has become suddenly affected by a single dude who just upped and left… or so you say.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, he craned his neck onto the bookshelf as silence engulfed the two. Despite his murderous intent towards Monique’s friend, he had to admit that this girl is scarily perceptive of the people around her. She could be really dangerous when she put her mind to it, making people face the things they hide from.

As the silence dragged on, he heard a sigh from the other side, making him perk up as he anticipated for his friend’s answer.

He had to know if she could sense that something is indeed brewing between them- those lingering stares, the accidental brushes, the prolonged skin contact, and the comfortable silence in between.

He had to know, did they mean anything to her? Did they even mean something or had he been just imagining it?

Was it a wishful thinking? Or was it all just lost in the translation?

It wasn’t as if he intentionally put his distance between him and her. It’s just that… for the past few weeks, there’s always a cloud of confusion looming above him as he found himself hanging out more and more with her.

And in his typical way of understanding the situation, he had to step back and try and see the bigger picture but in doing so, he may have unintentionally… ghosted her, as she said. But was it wrong? Had he been wrong in choosing himself? Choosing to understand what has been happening to him?

Never had he been the type to be mindful of people. Not that he cared about their opinions but with her, it’s different.

Hence, the urge to eavesdrop had never been so strong.

“I’m not.” Never had he heard Monique use a somber tone before and for some unknown reason, it made him nervous. Had something happened when he was lost in his thoughts?

Had Rianne took it too far this time? Does Monique need him to save her from her own friend?

“I’m not affected, Rianne.” He heard her repeat her words, this time with conviction- as if she’s pleading for someone to believe her. “I don’t give a flying fuck to anyone and that won’t change, even if it’s him.”

Ah. He should’ve expected this. He should’ve known better.

Was it just him or had the silence between had gotten a bit heavier? Was this a sign to come clean and come out of his hiding place, facing the wrath of not one, but two crazies? Or was this his cue to leave with his dignity intact? What dignity? he scoffed inwardly.

“I see,” before he could even decide his next course of action, Rianne had once again filled the silence between them. Was he reading too much or had he picked up the disappointment from her voice? “So be it then.”

Ah. For some reason, everything hurts.

Clutching his chest, he let out a muted laugh as he bowed his head.

So be it then.

-=-

"Confession time," for some unknown reason, his voice was breathless and-Jesus Christ, why does it affect her so much that she had to pause the godforsaken music player as she took a minute to compose herself.

The air conditioning unit is functioning well, right? So how come she could still feel the heat creeping through her face as she clutched her chest, willing for her heart to stay still.

'My goodness, Monique. Pwede bang huminahon ka kahit saglit?' She silently berated herself. 'Ano na naman ang naiisip mo, ha?'

Pressing play, the next words that came out of the speakers had her sobering. "Sometimes, I accidentally find myself wandering into the middle of your and Rianne's conversations." he what now? "At nang dahil sa inyong dalawa, natuto akong makinig sa mga usapan na di naman dapat pinapakinggan."

That little shit! Panic bloomed into her chest. Just how many conversations did he stumble upon? Did he stumble upon all of them??

"Yung pinaka tumatak sakin was the one where you told Rianne that I 'friend ghosted' you." oh god. "And I think an apology was overdue, don't you think? Monique, I didn't mean to. Please believe me, it wasn't my intention."

"But for the sake of my sanity, I had to." he let out a small bitter chuckle. "I had to step back so I could listen to what my heart was whispering about."

-=-

Now Playing: Lihim

1:04 ───ㅇ─────── 3:56 'Di mo ba nakikita sa isip mo'y ibang-iba, damdamin ko'y 'di madama

Did he miss something?

Knowing Monique, he knew just how petty she can be whenever she wanted to but this… this is a new type of pettiness that even he was not expecting for her to do.

Of all the things she could've done, he was definitely not expecting to see a cardboard cut-out of a random Korean dude occupying the large space he had claimed for himself at their table.

Looking across the cardboard cut-out, he met Rianne's amused stare, biting her upper lip to avoid laughing boisterously all the while her gaze shifted towards the unbothered girl sitting beside the cardboard cut-out.

"Mawalang galang na ho," he started, earning a scoff from Monique making him frown. Yep, she's still pissed. "Pero parang meron po yatang naligaw na bantay ng mall dito or sadyang nakaw to?" he couldn't help the helpless tone coming out of him that he had to look at Rianne for enforcement, the girl cringing as she shook her head as if she couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth, bowing her head in the process as her shoulder shook in silent laughter.

Gee, thanks a lot, Rianne. Ano pa bang silbi mo dito? Really. He would've dissed the girl more if it weren't for Monique's sharp turn of head, her eyes wide in offense, mouth curling into one of her deadliest sneers, nostrils flaring with undisputed anger.

The fuck did he do now?

"Excuse me?" she drawled out, her tone lowering as chills began to creep into the back of his neck. "Bantay ng mall? Nakaw?" she repeated his words, genuinely affronted all the while their audience of one is shaking uncontrollably and yet, they paid her no attention to.

"…hindi ba?" oh how he hated her effect on him. Asan na ngayon ang tapang mo, Cj? How was it that the mere slight of change of her tone had him cowering in fear? Was this the power of guilt? "I mean-"

"Out."

What?

Meeting her steely gaze, she gestured for him to leave and find another table to study on. "Namumuro ka na ah. First, you dare befriend us and then had the audacity to ghost us-"

"-Why am I being dragged into this?" Rianne deadpanned as she composed herself when she saw the fight between them wasn't going to escalate.

"-then you go and diss my man sitting beside me? How dare you? Fuck off. Layas. Humanap ka ng bagong table dahil di ka dito welcomed." Monique finished off, completely ignoring the bewildered look from his face.

"Teka, teka, teka- you mean to say, this guy is my replacement?" he couldn't help raising his tone as he turned from Monique to the dude with wide eyed innocent look, and a hint of small curl of his lips— what, is that supposed to be tantalizing? (seryoso, sinong matinong guard ang magpapapasok ng estudyanteng may dalang ganyan?) and looked back to Monique who looked at him, challengingly.

"Seriously? You replaced me— who, by the way, had some issues that needed resolving that's why I was gone for a while- with some fucking cardboard guy na pwede nang maging bantay ng stall sa mall? How on earth did you even manage to bring that thing inside the campus without anyone questioning your sanity?"

If he was in the right state of mind, he would've known better than to speak his mind about the cut-out but it's been days- weeks, even since he last seen and talked to his friend.

Was it that bad that he'd want to have her attention on him? So excuse his lack of tact, thank you very much and yet, it seemed that Monique has yet to perfect telepathic communication as she just stared at him with that offended look on her face, snarling at him as if he had just declared himself as anti-fan of whoever the fuck is that dude sitting beside her.

"You're dead to me." Monique spat as she huffed, standing up as she gathered her things making his eyes widen as he shot a helpless look to Rianne only for her to gesture her head towards Monique, silently urging him to act fast.

And act fast he did.

Without thinking, his arms reached out towards her, wrapping them both around her arms, effectively caging her and preventing her from leaving them.

"Let me go." she gritted her teeth, squirming from his hold.

Holding her this close, he could feel the warmth emitting from her despite the coldness of the library. He didn't know if it was because it had been weeks since he last saw her but the overwhelming need to snuggle closer to her had never been this strong.

"Never." he breathed out, acting upon instinct as he pulled her closer. Was it just him or did she gotten warmer? If only they could stay like this for even just a little longer then maybe he might be able to-

"Okay ang cringe," Monique suddenly declared, pulling him out of his reverie as she shuddered in his hold. "Jesus Christ, Cj sang lupalop ka ba napunta at bigla kang naging ganyan? Yung totoo, did you ghost us just so you could read your Wattpad stories in peace? Alam mo naman na tanggap ka namin ano man ang hilig mo, right?"

The small protest in the background about being dragged into the middle of this had gone unnoticed as he watched her twist against his hold.

Looking straight in her eyes, he knew for a fact that her anger towards him had slowly melted but just to be safe, he untangled one arm from her, raising it to flick her forehead, earning a small cry from her.

"Guard, may nakawalang baliw na naman po oh." he grinned as he watched her nose scrunched in annoyance, breaking herself free from his hold as she pushed him half-heartedly.

"Guard, may bastos po oh." she fired back, making his jaw drop in mock offense as he pointed to himself to which she nodded at with that playful annoyance displayed on her face.

Oh how he missed their playful banter.

Just as he was about to retort, he watched as her eyes widen in surprise as she ducked her head, turning away from him. What just happened? And was that- did Monique seriously blushed just now?

Before he could even comment on it, he felt the air behind him whoosh, making him turn to see what had caused his friend to act weirdly only for his stomach to drop.

She couldn't possibly, right? There's no way in hell was she acting all shy up when the university's basketball varsity team had just passed by.

Turning back, he could feel the dread rising up when he saw Rianne's amused expression had turned sympathetic towards him.

He could feel the cold seeping through his fingers, not caring as he snatched a chair from the neighboring student's hold, crying out a small protest to which he paid no mind at as he sat down next to Monique, the cardboard cut-out guy had been long forgotten.

"What the hell was that?"

"None of your business. Mag aral ka dyan."

If she thought he was going to drop it, then she didn't know him that well. But she did know him and he knew that she knew he wouldn't just simply drop the topic.

"So sino dun?" he didn't know that he could physiologically feel pain just by saying random things. "Sino sa mga higante ang nagpapatibok sa iyong malamig at patay na puso?"

Sending him a half-hearted glare, she let out an exasperated sigh. "First of all, hindi pa patay ang puso ko. Nakikita mo ba ang bebe Yoseob ko?" she gestured at the cardboard cut-out guy beside her making him roll his eyes. "Two, bakit parang may hinanakit ang tono mo? Hindi lahat ng babae nagkakandarapa sa'yo, we've talked about that already."

Why would I care about their attention when I only wanted yours? He wanted to protest but with the way her eyes twinkled just at the sight of the guy, he just couldn't find the courage to.

"And three, para sa ikakatahimik ng kaluluwa mo, his name is Adam and no, he's just a happy crush. Okay na? Happy?"

Flashing her a sarcastic smile, he dumped his bag on top of the table slightly harder than normal. "Very much so."

-=-

"Sa lahat ng babaeng kilala ko, ikaw yung pinakatopakin, alam mo ba yun?" his tone had gone softer- fonder, dare she even say. And if he were here, she would've probably opened her mouth to retaliate-- no, scratch that, she WILL retaliate. "Opps, wait. Alam kong kating kati ka dyan mangaway, patapusin mo muna ako, pwede? Perfect ka?"

Letting out a small laugh, she couldn't help but press pause as she looked at the speaker with her own fond look flashing across her face.

Ah, Cj. I wonder how you're doing now.

Shaking her head, she let the tape continue where it left, savoring the words that came out of his mouth.

"It's not necessarily a bad thing. Siguro, pahamak lang. Remember the time where you snuck in some cardboard cut-out of some random korean guy sa library just cause you overheard my friends that I'd be coming to share a table with you guys?" Fighting a grin, her eyes shifted towards the exact cardboard cut-out next to her closet. How could she ever forget? "It was so weird that I was torn between throwing that piece of cardboard out of my spot or if I should just find another table to sit on. Pero syempre, support lang tayo sa kaibigan natin gaano pa ka-weirdo sila, di ba?"

'Tangina, matapos lang talaga tong tape na 'to, hahanapin talaga kita,' she vowed silently, ignoring the sudden clenching of her heart as she heard the last part of his comment.

"Being with you is quite the rollercoaster ride, Monique. Isipin mo, sa'yo ko lang naranasan maweirduhan, maging masaya, malungkot at matakot in a span of minutes."

"Is that a bad thing?" she found herself asking in time with his same question, their voices blending in chorus. Her hold on her pillow tightened as she waited in bated breath for his answer.

Humming, he let out a sigh. "I don't think so."

-=-

Now Playing: Di Bale Na Lang

1:12 ───ㅇ─────── 4:42 Hindi ko na alam kung makakaya ko pa, 'di bale na lang kaya

Is it just him or did his friend gained attention the past few weeks?

Well. There's nothing really wrong with gaining attention here and there- in fact, he's secretly hoping that the nasty rumors surrounding her would dissipate as time goes on and people get to see how true and great of a person she is.

Heaven knows she's a good person. Despite all the weird and aloof exterior she possess.

So really. He's all for supporting Monique with her newfound popularity. Though the thing is, what ticks him off was the fact that most of the attention she's gaining were of male population.

Yung totoo, Monique, pumunta ka ba ng Quiapo?

"Weren't you the one to say na ayaw mo sa mga exaggerated phrases?" Rianne's voice drifted somewhere behind him, cutting him off from his offhand rants that he didn't knew he was voicing out loud. "Kala mo naman ang dami dami ng competition with the way you're acting. Ano ka, boyfriend?" snickering, she gave him a side eye, making him cringe at how easily she had caught him.

"Oh wait, you haven't even confessed!" and now she's mocking him. Wow. The audacity. "So pray tell, bakit ka nagmumukmok dyan?"

Squinting his eyes, he let out a small groan. "Ano na naman ang pinagsasabi mo dyan?" it was a poor attempt to salvage the damage, that much he knows. And with the look she's giving him, he knew that she knew what he was doing yet, he didn't know why he even held on to the hope that this girl would pity him and let him have his dignity back.

Was it too much to ask for a little empathy? Then again, this was Rianne he was talking to. Her empathy towards him is little to none.

"Asus, patay malisya ka pa dyan when you've already outed yourself," letting a disapproving tsk, she continued despite the roll of eyes they threw at each other. "Like siguro five minutes ago pa. So again, bakit ka nagmumukmok dyan? Do you even have the right?"

"Don't you have an off switch somewhere? You're being extra annoying today." he gritted his teeth, glancing momentarily over her shoulder, narrowing his eyes before turning back to his abandoned laptop, fingers pressing the keyboard harder than necessary. "And di ba pwedeng maging reason kung bakit nagmumukmok yung tao ay dahil iniwan siya ng kausap niya in the middle of the conversation?" he snapped, earning a shake of her head.

Looking at her back, she let out a small scoff. "Dude, you do realize that she's just talking to the professor, right? I don't know what kind of scenario you've conjured in that petty head of yours pero I think-- and this is a crazy idea but hear me out, it's pretty much a violation of several codes of ethics to form a relationship outside of professional setting, especially one of professor to student."

"With Monique? Don't count that idea out." he muttered, earning a snicker from her, silently agreeing with him.

"Well," she drawled, leaning back on her chair, twirling her pen on one hand. "Kinky." she commented, laughing at the disgusted expression on his face. "While that may likely to happen, I don't think Professor's is the type to engage a relationship with a student so I guess that's one less of competition for you, huh? Shame. Was hoping for drama, at least."

"Why are you so adamant with this competition thing? Ano, are you really that bored that you just impose your imagination onto people? Pwede ba tigilan mo yan? That's not healthy."

"Harsh," she commented airily as if his comment hadn't fazed her. "Are you being like this because she cheered the loudest last week at that basketball game? Or perhaps, was it because you're not the sole focus of her attention these past few days?"

"Hah," he let out an exasperated sigh, his eyes flashing her an irritated look that had her mouth curling in a lazy smirk. "Stop psychoanalyzing me, psycho. Gaano ba ako ka-self-centered dyan sa utak mo that you think her shifting her attention to someone else had me in a bad mood?"

Shifting his eyes momentarily, the irritation he felt had somewhat grew just as the professor gestured for the newcomer to join his conversation with his student.

Feeling the shift on the mood, Rianne turned just in time to see the varsity that caught Monique's eyes reaching for her friend's hand, shaking it firmly, the growing smile on her friend's face didn't go unnoticed. "Just admit it, Cj. Mas lalo mo lang sinasaktan sarili mo the more you deny it." she found herself saying. "You're jealous."

"Me? Jealous?" his reply had been instantaneous as if he had been expecting her to say it their entire conversation. Shaking his head, he gave her the most serious look he could muster. "Di kaya."

-=-

"Did you know, may pagkademonyo yang kaibigan mo?" was it just her or did his tone changed into- how should she put it? Para bang nagsusumbong? "Wala siyang preno, Monique! Kung makapagsalita akala mo naman may karapatan siya no? Who does she think she is? My therapist? Please."

Jaw dropping, her eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the speaker with disbelief dancing through her eyes. He is! He really is complaining about Rianne!

She couldn't help the giggles escaping from her lips as she let him rant on. What did Rianne do this time? Not even trying to hide the smile creeping across her face, she sunk onto her bed, humming as she listened on.

"Just because she had my feelings figured out doesn't give her the right to call me out. At the end of the day, whatever I choose to do with my feelings should be my business and mine alone." his tone turned serious that had her frowning.

What? What exactly happened- that had him ranting like this? Did both of her dearest friends fought without her knowing? How come she hadn't heard about this? And why didn't they tell her?

Was she really out of the loop for so long that she had no idea what had been happening between the two people she considered dearest to her?

Is it just her or does it seem like her chest had been dumped with heavy bricks? Having half a mind to reach over for her phone and call her roommate, she was stopped on her tracks with Cj's next words.

"'Wag mo muna siyang tawagan, Monique. She and I didn't fight, if that's what you're thinking-- and I know you, lods. Whatever you're thinking, get rid of it. It was just the usual jab and bickering. It was a passing thought." Just how did he do that?

How is he quick to reassure her when she's far from him? When he couldn't even see her reaction? How does he know what she's going to do when they haven't even talked for a while now?

"Although, don't tell her this but she's right," mumbling the last part, she had to strain her ears to hear him, pausing it for a bit and rewinding the last part in disbelief.

Is the world ending?

"The more I deny, the more I hurt myself, yeah. I learned that the hard way. But as for her accusation?" he let out an exaggerated scoff. "Nope. Di bale na lang, talaga."

-=-

Now Playing: Balang Araw 0:58 ──ㅇ────── 4:52 Baka pwede lang kahit isang saglit, masabi lang na merong konting pagtingin

Head buzzing, ears ringing, the flitting sound of chatters and jazz music had all became nothing but muted as he came bearing to his senses, realizing his body had not been the only one that had slumped over the table helplessly.

What the fuck?

Blinking blearily, he finally became well too aware of the heat radiating from the body next to him, just as helpless and blissfully unaware like him.

Groaning, his face scrunched as he tried to fight the headache that had been pounding its way into his brain as he tried to remember what the fuck had happened because from what he could vaguely recall, it wasn't just Monique who had been with him earlier this night.

Did… their so-called friends left them both alone in this fucking bar?

Did they seriously finally acted upon their threats of leaving their sorry asses be?

Again, what the fuck.

Wasn't it already established never to let the two of them alone when they eventually became too shitfaced of drunks? Who knows what could've happened- slowly jolting awake, the sinking feeling of what could've been had him sobering in an instant, eyes wide as he looked around his surroundings only to relax when the familiar sight of Rianne's kitchen greeted him.

While he appreciated her being considerate enough to offer her home to them, he vowed he'd get her back for scaring the shit out of him, knowing she had deliberately mimicked the ambiance of the bar they had went to just to get a rise out of him probably.

Why did he get drunk anyway?

As if she heard his thoughts, Monique's hand reached over, pulling his arm towards her head, seemingly looking for comfort as she let out what seemed to be satisfied sigh, a serene expression painting her face as she succumbed further into dreamland.

Fighting off a smile, his free hand went over as he brushed the stray hair that had fallen over her face, fingers tracing her cheek as he indulged himself. "Alam mo, ang amo amo ng mukha mo ‘pag tulog ka. Pwede bang ganito ka na lang palagi? You kinda don't look like the gremlin you are during the day." he found himself saying as the reason for their spontaneous happy hour finally came rushing back to him.

Oh. Right.

She had been gushing over the fact that whatshisface had finally noticed her. That her months of pining had actually come to fruition. Hah. As if.

It’s bad enough he had to compete for her attention during one of their classes because of that goddamned professor, now he had to compete for her attention outside of their class too? And to that motherfucking giant of all people? Hah.

And while she had been talking their friends' ears off with the possibilities with her possible beau, he found himself drowning in liver poison, hoping and praying the burning sensation leaving its wake could at least ease the burning feeling he had desperately repressed for so long, ignoring the pitiful stares he had been getting from Rianne.

Everything afterwards became all too blurry and hazy even for his sober self. What had happened after? He knew why he had gotten drunk but what about Monique? Why had she gotten drunk?

Granted, getting your crush to finally notice you after so long is a reason enough to celebrate but if his memory serves him right (90 percent guaranteed), then why in the world had she been all too sulky in the end?

He knew her. He knows her. Probably more than he could ever know himself. And the stages of drunk Monique that came out earlier had not been one of celebratory kind. If anything, it felt like- it felt more like… something he couldn’t put his finger into. Ah, he’s too drunk to over analyze shit.

"Kung madali lang ako mahalin, it wouldn't be as pathetic as it is to celebrate the fact that he had looked my way," he recalled her hiccuping those words albeit drunkenly. Her eyes had been all too wide, glistening with unshed tears that he had forced himself not to reach for.

"It's not pathetic," he found himself saying as his heart skipped, heartstrings being tugged as he found himself helpless. "Madali kayang magmahal. Madali ka namang mahalin eh."

There was a pause between them, too palpable to ignore. And with the way her expression slightly crumble, fumbling with her quivering lips, he knew she was holding back.

What was it? his eyes screamed. How can I make it all better?

"If I am easy to love then how come-" Forcing a smile upon her lips, she had been the first to avert her gaze- just as always.

It had always been like that. Just as he thought he was close to figuring out the enigma Monique is, she goes around and shied away, fleeing as if opening herself is a crime against humanity.

If it had been a different time, he would’ve left it be- after all, he never tried to pry into her life, not like Rianne who they all know is easy to confide into.

But this is different, he justified. She’s hurting because of some asshole. And he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Does it hurt? Fuck yeah. But that doesn’t mean he had to stop caring for her. Not when she means the world to him.

“If you’re easy to love…?” He prompted, eyes pleading to-just this once- trust in him, confide in him.

He heard her swore, making him hide his glee knowing she could never deny him of anything.

“Madaya ka rin no?” Giving her a small victorious grin, he dared push his luck, nudging her slightly as if to encourage her. "Akala mo naman kung sinong gwapo. May nagsabi na ba sayo na ang sagwa kapag nagpapacute ka?"

Letting out a guffaw, he could feel his insides twist with glee when he saw small hint of smile upon her lips, nudging her forehead with his as he settled for a cheeky smile. "Excuse me, ang swerte mo sayo lang ako nagpapacute. Andaming nagkakarandarapa sa ngiti ko, huy."

Is it just him but for a moment there he saw something flash on her eyes but just as he was about to comment on it, how quickly it faded. Perhaps it was all wishful thinking? Perhaps a moment of weakness, something to hope for? Was it a trick of the light?

"Nako, parang hindi naman," she scoffed and for a moment, she had let the moment between them simmer before turning melancholic. "If I'm easy to love then why can't he?"

"Because he's a fool," he uttered automatically as if it was the answer to the world's most difficult question. "Because he's a fucking blind pole and a fucking idiot. Sabi sayo panget na jowain ang mga basketball players pero nakinig ka ba sakin? Hindi. Sheesh."

"I don't think that's it," she mumbled, shaking her head as if she's dismantling the idea he had planted on her head or perhaps- it looked as if she was disagreeing about something he had said which he inwardly scoffed at. There’s nothing wrong with his statement, right? "Because if it were then…"

Something in him wanted to push her further, to confide in him the way she could with Rianne. Despite his heart going crazy, it felt like he had to know the rest of the sentence. Even if it hurts. But looking at her bittersweet smile and the way her eyes turn glassy with contempt, he knew better than to. And so, with heavy heart, he had to drop their conversation, acting as if nothing hurts.

Letting out a shuddering sigh, he willed himself to forget that piece of memory. He should've forgotten that. Fuck.

Oh but he couldn't. His traitorous heart couldn't let him. Not when it comes to her.

"You're easy to love," he found himself whispering as if he is finally sharing a secret he held close, not really caring the numbing sensation from the arm she had stolen from him nor the fact that the walls probably have ears.

He had, after all, downed in liquid courage tonight and he'd be damned to let it slip.

Threading his fingers over her hair in the barest touch as possible, he dared continue. "You make it too easy to love you, Nic." Letting out a small nervous chuckle, his eyes softened as he stared at her. "Because if you weren't then how come I have been hopelessly and tremendously in love with you all these years?"

-=-

She had been too accustomed for his voice to come through the moment the song ended but for some reason, all she got was silence.

Eyebrows furrowing, she turned her head to check if the tape had finally stopped or heaven forbid, Rianne's vintage speaker had finally gotten possessed. Just as she was about to lean over, his shuddering sigh greeted her ears once more, making her jump in surprise.

"The fuck naman Cj," she muttered, clutching her chest to calm herself. "Pwede bang bigyan mo naman ako ng konting warning dyan?" her tone had been too light, talking as if he was there beside her but when the silence that followed became all too deafening, she couldn't help but feel all too worried.

Which is- silly, thinking about it. This was pre-recorded. Meaning, it's not exactly happening as of the moment. She didn't even know this was being made so why worry?

"Give me a few minutes, will ya?" his voice- muted and soft and if she would strain her ears more, she could've sworn she could hear the shakiness he had tried to suppress.

Was the song that too deep? Granted, she wasn't really much of a fan of the singer, going as far as referring to him as Abu Bukar (no offence, really. She's just bad with names.) but was there a reason- a story behind this particular song?

"Cj, please…" she whispered. "Pakigalaw ang baso, I don't fucking care if bigla na lang maging Conjuring set 'tong apartment namin. Come on, I need to know-- are you okay?"

"I'm fine," turning her head in record speed, she couldn't help the fear spiking through her (did she really jinx it? Is this the start of her horror story?) "I'm fine, Monique. I'm fine."

If she didn't know him any better, she'd say that this is a perfect demonstration of the concept of neuroplasticity: repetition matters but she did know him… maybe just as well as how much he knows her.

Just who are you trying to convince, Cj? Ako lang naman to, di ba?

"I don't really know what to tell you, so can I just sing the song again? Well, wala kang choice. I'll sing it again. Magtiis ka dyan."

Flashing the speaker a small, bitter smile, she couldn't help but close her eyes as the first note hit her ears, relishing the warm baritone voice he had always possessed, ignoring the cartwheels of her heart and the rampaging dinosaurs in her stomach.

Bakit ako magtitiis when all I wanted was to listen to you all day?

-=-

Now Playing: 214

1:33 ────ㅇ────── 4:41 'Cause time may pass, but longer than it'll last I'll be by your side

“Bakit ako?”

It was quiet.

He could hear her voice dropping as if she’s trying to retreat back into her own void, the one she had created solely for her not because she wanted to but because she had to, which is something he hadn’t understood the first few encounters he had with her but as they gradually became close, this was a notion he had learned he hated. It’s like… a piece of him dies every time she does this.

The shift in the air was palpable as the sounds around them had faded into muted noise, his head turning to look at her.

Taking his silence as an invitation to continue, she shifted into a more comfortable position, knees coming to her chest as she wrapped her arms around them.

“Bakit mo ako nilapitan? Bakit mo ako kinausap?” she dared ask and suddenly, the ground seemed more interesting to look at than the incredulous look plastered on his face. “I mean… I’m not one of the typical people you’ve hung out with. I’m not really like your people so… why me?”

He could see her spiraling.

Down… and down to her thoughts, with no way out and with nothing to hold on to. It’s dangerous, he kept warning her. She’d drown herself before she could even notice she had waddled in too deep but that’s okay.

That’s what he’s here for, anyway.

He didn’t know when it happened or how in the fucking world it was even possible but he knew. A self proclaimed self absorbed person like him knew her like a lifeline.

He knew her like the back of his hand. He could see her eyes glazing with heaviness as she slowly entertain the thoughts that lingered at the back of her mind before she could even notice herself, the way her breathing went shallow and how her usual boisterous voice became subdued.

Looking at her now, he couldn’t help the small smile creeping across his lips.

Not to be that person, but he’s fucking grateful he’s the only one who could see her like this.

The only person she trusted completely as she let her guard down.

Ano ka ngayon, Doria?

Ah the sweet sweet scent of victory knowing he had one upped that motherfucking giant of a varsity.

Though despite the sweet satisfaction, he knew he couldn’t let her continue to think of whatever negativity her mind had concocted- not if he wanted her to feel saddened and burdened and so he had to act fast.

Humming to himself, he nudged her slightly, garnering no change from her attention and so he nudged her continuously until she turned to him with slight annoyance painting her face as he grinned at her.

“You done being dramatic? My god, Monique! Drama ah. Nakainom ka na naman?”

“Cj naman! Kala ko ba seryosong usapan tayo dito?” She all but exclaimed, prompting people to stare at them momentarily to which they both ignored. Maybe having a heart to heart conversation like this shouldn’t be done in the campus quadrangle, he mused. But then again, it wasn’t like he was the first to approach the topic anyway.

If anything, he’s blaming Monique and her impeccable timing as usual but he’d rather keep this to himself if he wanted to live another day.

Huffing, she rolled her eyes at him before turning to stand only for him to pull her back down, making her slightly lose her balance as she sat back down next to him, leaving no space between them.

Eyes wide, she could feel the air being sucked away from her as she stared at his eyes- those warm brown eyes blown wide with mischief and mirth dancing upon them, his mouth curling into cheshire grin as if he is offering every solution to her unending questions.

For a moment, it felt like the world around them had stopped just for the two of them. Dare he even say, it felt like time had stopped just for them.

Is this… is this normal?

Before she could even comprehend what was happening, she watched as he ducked his head closer to hers, his forehead coming up to gently nudge hers.

“Silly girl,” is it because of the mood or had his voice dropped a few octaves? “Because you’re interesting. Because I feel like you and I will get along well. Because I saw you and looked only at you.” He listed off, nonchalantly while she could feel the inner turmoil inside her grew despite quelling the first thoughts she had.

Does he… have the same effect he had towards other girls on her? Can she even feel the wild beating of his heart, how it beats because she’s near?

Before she could even think, he could feel her breathing hitch as she listened to his next words.

“And yeah, you’re right about that, Monique- you’re really not one of my people. Not typically anyway.” Having his forehead rest upon hers, eyes closing as if relishing this moment right here, just between the two of them.

As he opened his eyes, he could feel himself getting lost with her glint of hope and… something else. A sentiment he shared with her. Can she feel his utmost sincerity? “You are my person.” He whispered slowly as if he was… asking, pleading for her to understand.

A moment passed.

Letting out a shuddering sigh, she found herself relaxing onto his hold as she offered him one of her own sincere smiles before nudging his forehead gently.

“Hay nako Cj, ang drama ah. Ano, nakainom ka na naman?” She grinned as he let out a small annoyed groan, his finger replacing his forehead to gently flick hers, earning an indignant cry from her.

“Aray! What the fuck? Ang bayolente mo talaga no?” she cried, clutching her forehead in pain as she glared at him, to which he rolled his eyes at playfully before standing up, reaching over to pull her up as well. While he may have averted the crisis, he couldn’t help but wish he could’ve done more. And so while it’s not really part of his plan, and he knew his wallet will make him regret it later, he had to resort to other means of cheering her up.

“Bakit ikaw, hindi?” he singsonged, throwing his arm over her shoulders before she could even retaliate, pulling her close to him. “Tara, milktea tayo. Libre ko.”

-=-

"Classic Rivermaya. You gotta admit they do have one of the best songs, yeah?" Listening to his voice now, she couldn't help but reel in her shock at how he's quick to switch moods. If she didn't know any better, she'd say this dude could pass as a woman with the way he jumped from serious to light hearted conversation at a snap of a finger.

But she did know better and she knew this is his way of deflecting. His way of hiding what he truly felt, not wanting to burden people with the brewing storm inside his head.

Just what exactly are you trying to hide, Cj? After all these years, di pa ba sapat yung tiwala mo sakin?

She had to admit, it kinda hurt. They had, after all, been through thick and thin, survived all those hell weeks with little to no sleep only to get just enough passing scores.

Throughout those years, he had been her confidante. Her consistent companion. And yes, she knew if Rianne were to hear these thoughts of hers, she would beg to differ but if she were to be honest, there's just something different between Rianne's and Cj's companionship with her.

"Anyway," Cj's voice filled the air once more. "This song reminds me of that one time sa quad where you were asking me why I chose to befriend you. Ang weird ng timing pero siyempre, on brand na yan sa'yo so di naman na nakakapagtaka," hearing his small laugh should've annoyed her, should've launched her into strings of curses and promises of bodily harm the next time she saw him and yet, she found herself looking at the speaker with concern written all over her face.

Something's wrong, that much she knew and it frustrates her to no end that she couldn't fathom whatever the hell it is.

"Despite the weirdness, alam mo, ang saya ko that time. Not because you were wallowing in self-depreciating thoughts-- grabe Monique, inubos mo pera ko sa milktea, ah- but rather, because you chose to trust me." she could feel her stomach dropping at his next words. Blinking, she held her breath. "At that moment, you chose me… even if it was fleeting."

-=-

Now Playing: Dahan

1:30 ────ㅇ────── 4:57 Dahan dahan mong bitawan puso kong di makalaban

In a hindsight, he should've seen it coming.

He, of all people, should know how a person acts when they are hopelessly smitten- hopelessly in love?- same shit. After all, didn't he do the same to his circle of friends back then? Disappear on them, that is.

Di kaya, he disagreed. Hadn't I just saw them earlier this week? Besides, with the way they were swamped with their own shit, it would be a miracle for them to notice we don't hang out as frequent as before. he justified, leaning against the tree he had always frequented on the quad.

Even then, why didn't he notice the change in her? Or did he perhaps have known all along what was happening right before his eyes but chose to be blind about it?

Or baka naman busy lang siya, he reasoned to himself, heaving out a small sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying his might to keep the headache. pero kahit na, di ba?

When was the last time he saw Monique? When was the last time he had her undivided attention? The last time they shared conversation, or ate a meal together? Weren't they supposed to study together today?

Looking at the sprawled materials before him, he let out a bitter scoff. Certainly, not. he wanted to laugh, a sinking feeling in his gut had started to make itself known.

Out of the two of them, he had to admit-- and he swore it's not that he intentionally did it- but he's the one who had most likely cancelled on them.

Sometimes, it's because his parents were visiting. Sometimes, it's because he had fucked up with the course he had struggling in that he had to make up for it and sometimes, it's because his friends have had enough of him ghosting them that he hadn't had the choice but to go out with them.

All are valid points, he supposed but actually, she was with him during the mentioned reasons so technically, it wasn't exactly cancelled but more of change of plans.

Not that he's saying that Monique hadn't had her fair share of blowing their plans off but during the course of their friendship, she would let him know beforehand if she couldn't make it so as he wouldn't expect her.

Not until now, he thought bitterly, looking up as his gaze wandered off, aimlessly watching other students mind their own businesses.

It's not that Monique owed him an explanation or something- there may be an emergency that she had forgotten to let him know and that's fine. Cool.

It's just that, shouldn't she really be prioritizing something right now when she herself had stated that she oh so desperately needed to pass this course? Hence, why he offered to tutor her in the first place.

So. Not to be that guy, but where the hell is she?

Baka nga talaga emergency? he reasoned to himself, picking a random notebook to distract him from the pain he's currently feeling. Was he being too overbearing? Was he being overly dramatic over something simple? Knowing her attention span, baka nga nakalimutan niya lang talaga?

But why does it feel like it isn't? Why does it feel like there's something else and that he's just trying to justify her absence more than he should've?

Shaking his head, he was about to revert his focus on his notes when a loud chatter of a nearby group of students caught his attention.

He could've easily ignored it. Just one of the background noise even. However, he could've sworn he heard her voice. He must've- after years of being with her, her voice had been one of the things he had imprinted on his memory. He could easily distinguish hers even if he was put in a loud room.

Turning his head, his gaze immediately found her figure, just in the middle of a group of students- varsities, he belatedly realised- laughing without any care, leaning against that same dude that had caught her attention.

He knew it shouldn't affect him. It wasn't even any of his business, she's free to do whatever she wants, right?

Her choice whether she wants to study or not, it was all under her discretion.

Ah but it hurts, his face contorting on that painful smile he had found himself sporting these days. Why does it hurt? Why is it something as simple as her blowing their study session off to hang out with that guy and his circle of friends hurt so much?

-=-

"Now here's what I'm curious about,nagtampo ka na ba sakin without me knowing?" he wondered as if she was there with him to provide him the answers he wanted. "Yung tipong di mo sakin sinabi na nagtatampo ka kasi wala naman ako at that situation tas di mo na sakin sinabi kasi nawala rin agad yung tampo mo or something along those lines?"

Frowning, she thought hard for any instances he had described. Was there a time where she was pissed at him and hadn't let him know?

Just before she could even blurt out her answer, she found herself holding back as she remembered that he wasn't there to hear her answer.

Nagmumukha akong tanga sa'yo, Cj, she groaned inwardly, thanking the heavens that Rianne decided to stay the night at her boyfriend's.

"It was a horrible feeling, did you know?" he continued his monologue. "Lalo na 'pag wala ka naman talagang karapatan magalit. Pero di ba common courtesy na lang din na magsabi kapag di ka makakarating sa usapan?"

What?

"Sorry," he let out a small mirthless laugh. "Naguungkatan na rin naman tayo ng past, right? Ah ako nga lang pala so might as well, no? That time where you and I had a scheduled study session, the time where you-- I don't know if you forgot- blew me off just to hang out with that wannabe varsity dude."

She could feel her stomach dropping with every sentence he uttered. True, he knew of her goldfish-like memory so to have him directly remind her of what had happened back then gave her a sense of dread.

"I know I have no right to get mad, cause you're entitled to do whatever you want pero sana di ba nagsasabi?" Was this the reason why he had been acting all too strange that time they had met afterwards? Was this the reason why he was all too tense before going back to his normal self? "But no matter, kahit naman nagtatampo ako sa'yo, tingin mo matitiis kita?"

That's the thing, she wanted to disagree. You should've told me off. You should've made your thoughts known. So why didn't you?

-=-

Now Playing: Di Makatulog

1:08 ───ㅇ─────── 5:29 Bago pumikit ang iyong mata, ayokong managinip ng mag-isa

"What are we even doing?" he didn't mean for the question to escape his lips but the thought had been all too overwhelming that it finally slipped out of his mouth, prompting the person at the other side of the phone cease her animated storytelling of the events that had transpired earlier that morning.

"Huh?"

Closing his eyes, he berated himself silently for not being able to control himself. Was it because it was the dead of the night? Was it because his sleep was interrupted? Or was it because he had been feeling tired lately that he couldn't suppress his inner thoughts? "This," Might as well continue- take it head on, right? "Why are we even doing this?"

"We're just talking?" he could imagine her frowning as she tried to make sense of the shift in his mood. "Cj, if you're tired, you could've just said so. Di na sana kita naistorbo, di ba?"

Panic bloomed in his chest as he shifted from his position. "Wait no, that's not it." he rushed out before she could even hang up on him.

When she made no move to continue on, he took it as a sign to elaborate and so he did. "It's just that- Monique, why are we talking this late at night?"

She let out a small noise of confusion. "Because we haven't seen each other kanina? I barely saw even the glimpse of your shadow today tas ngayon ko lang narealize so I tried texting you and well, you answered naman so I figured, instead na text kasi mamaya nyan tulugan mo ako tas magaantay lang ako sa wala, tawagan na lang kita, ganun." she rambled on, not knowing how her words made its impact on him.

Shaking his head bitterly, he let out a small sigh as he stared at his bare ceiling, deep in thought. So ngayon mo lang napansin, he wanted to tell her. After weeks of not seeing each other, ngayon mo lang napansin na di na tayo naguusap?

"Pero Cj, dude, wait lang," the concern in her voice brought him out of his reverie. "Why are you- what's with the question? Again, if you aren't up for talking, you could've just said so."

She's starting to feel agitated, that much he could tell. With the way she stuttered, the way she repeated herself even if she hated doing so. It's funny how easily he had picked up her tells despite her not being there physically. It's funny how observant he had become just for her.

And just how easy he knew her tells, he could've easily stopped right there and then with the game he wanted to play and just let her continue with her tale as if nothing's wrong.

But there is. Something's wrong and if he had gotten a hold of himself, he would've held back and let it be. But he was getting tired and in his haze, he felt a great need to let whatever's bothering him known.

"It's not that," he backtracked, running his free hand over his face as he racked his brain for the right words. "Believe me, there's nothing more than I want than to hear about your day. Kasi for some reason-- and I think something's wrong with me when I say this pero parang may kulang kasi ngayong araw."

Silence engulfed the air and for a second, he had feared that he might've set her off but all of that was washed off when he heard her chuckle.

"It's me, isn't it?" he could already picture the silly grin adorning her lips as she asked him and for that alone had him smiling lopsidedly as well. Is it worth setting aside what he felt? Perhaps. "Sabi na nga ba ako talaga ang kukumpleto sa buhay mo."

Ignoring the skip of his heart, he let out a small groan for her to hear. "And there goes your delusions again." he let out a small chuckle as he heard her huff. "You sure you don't want me to drive you to the mental institute?"

"Hah. Eh ikaw nga tong pabago-bago ng mood so baka ikaw yung may kailangan nang idiretso sa mental institute?"

"Please. Kung baliw man ako, dahil yun sa'yo. I think you just had that effect on people, yeah? Nakakabaliw ka, Monique."

Hearing her scoff, he closed his eyes as he felt the tension released from his body. "Lahat naman nababaliw sakin, Cj. Ewan ko bakit ngayon mo lang yan narealize."

Should he dare? Is it worth risking for?

"Uy, seryoso dude?" In his silence, he failed to notice how her voice sobered. "If you're tired, then I'll let you rest."

"Nah, I'm okay. Di pa naman ako pagod."

"Sure ka? Just earlier you were questioning why we're doi-"

"I just missed you, s'all." he was quick to cut her off, mentally kicking himself for even bringing it up. "You were right, di tayo nagkita today and we haven't talked for a while kaya let me just- savor this, I think."

She let out a small laugh. "Savor this? You speak as if we're not going to talk anymore. Na parang di na tayo nagkikita ah. Na parang di tayo naguusap ah."

"Haven't we?"

"Ah but I'm right here, di ba? And medyo busy lang tayo kaya siguro di tayo nagkakatagpo or something."

"Are you really? I mean, paano pag sobrang busy ka na talaga at wala ka nang time para makipagusap, much less makipagkita?"

"I don't think that's possible, Cj. You and I- we make time for each other di ba? Like right now, masyado na ngang late but we're still talking, di ba?" oh how he wished he could see her, figure out her thoughts as she uttered these words.

He let out a small shuddering sigh. "Yeah," he conceded but with the thoughts running through his head, he couldn't stop himself from adding, "But why does it feel like-"

She let out a small hum, as if she had all the patience in the world. "Feel like what?"

"Like I'm losing you." he let the gravity of his words sink in. "Am I losing you?" he whispered as he heard her breath hitch.

"No," it was her turn to let out a shuddering sigh. He wanted to think that the thought itself repulsed her. "Never. Di ba nga sabi mo, mas madikit pa ako sa linta?" she asked, eliciting a small choked laugh from him. "You're not gonna lose me, Cj."

Her words were meant to soothe his fears. She was meant to placate this wavering heart of his. But for some reason, all it did was to give way to the dread he had been feeling.

Swallowing this feeling, he made a sound of disbelief. "Bakit naman parang nangbabanta ka, Monique?"

At the sound of her exasperation, his mouth curled in a small smile. "Hay nako this dude. It's an assurance, Ceej."

"But you know, people tend to just leave."

"And I'm not gonna be like them, Christian na di mabait." her voice had been too firm, too serious. And for a moment right there, she had made him believe in her. "I won't leave you even if you don't want to be in my life anymore."

Closing his eyes, he couldn't help the sharp breath he had taken. Ah. He must've been so tired, after all.

-=-

Having friends with someone who articulates words really well (read: Rianne), she had been made aware of how much words can mean so much more when they are used in the right context.

Take the word 'Oh', for example. In her opinion, this word had been overused in every possible way. In songs, sonnets, poems, stories, and even in mundane conversations. She couldn't understand how this simple word can make such an impact that people would use it over and over and so in silent protest, she refrained to use it on her daily conversations much to Rianne's amusement. (And much to the latter's delight, she had lasted at least two weeks before breaking her self-protest.)

"Am I losing you?" he whispered, his voice quiet and careful as if there's fragility in every syllable spoken.

Oh.

Now she gets it. Oh. Like oh, how does he know how to break her heart like this? Oh, please don't do this. Can't he see her heart breaking for him? Can he break her heart even more?

"Have I lost you?"

Turns out he can.

As silence followed him, she heaved out a shuddering sigh, trying to reel in all the emotions that are about to spill out any moment now.

Oh how she wanted nothing more than to be oblivious of what he was referring to. Oh how she wanted nothing more than to have forgotten the myriad of emotions she had felt that night where they had shed off the illusion of a strong front.

"That day, I was missing you, you know?" Cj continued, voice wavering. "For some reason, my best friend and I see each other less and less as days passed and I- for some reason, I can't confront you about it because I didn't know how to approach the topic. So I just let it be."

Closing her eyes, she could feel his emotions bleeding through the speakers, becoming tangible enough that she could almost feel them as if they were her own.

For the first time that night, she was grateful for his shyness- she couldn't bear to see him bare his soul to her right now, not when she, too, are in too deep with her emotions.

"And that night when you called me, I was really grateful. Though a small part of me was thinking, ah so naalala mo pa pala ako. Salamat ah? Pero kasi mas nananaig yung pagkamiss ko sa'yo." She could imagine him smiling oh so bitterly to his recorder as he paused. "I asked you once, have I lost you? And you answered instantly-"

"No," they chorused, albeit hers was more of a whisper whilst his was more of a resolute.

"And like a fool, I believed you." he sighed. "You just have that effect on me. You could tell me so many lies and I would still believe you."

Words can be weapons if used in the right context, Rianne would often tell her. And right now, she's bearing the brunt of it.

Oh, how it hurts.

-=-

Now Playing: I need you more today

1:13 ────ㅇ───── 4:11 I need you now, more than ever, more than words can say

"Handa na ako," he had blurted out as he watched Rianne look up from her reading material, cocking an eyebrow at what he hoped to be determined expression on his face before giving all her attention on him. At her silence, he took it as a sign to continue. "Handa na akong aminin ang aking lihim na pagtingin sa kanya."

Letting out a small sigh, he scanned his surroundings, methodically making sure not even a speck of dust was out of place.

With what he had planned for tonight, would it be an overkill to decorate their usual place at the quad? Was the addition of fairy lights an obvious give away of what he wanted to talk to her about?

Originally, he would've preferred to do this at their usual table in the library since not only it's lowkey but he wanted to think there's sentiment behind such place but Rianne was quick to poke his forehead with a revolted look on her face. ("Are you serious? Library? What's next, will you give her a badly constructed love letter and some tacky chocolates?") If it weren't for JK- her esteemed boyfriend holding her back, he might've been smacked on the head multiple times. (Honestly, that guy is a saint for even putting up with her. How on earth did she even snagged the guy?)

Silence engulfed them until he saw her mouth twitching as she cringed at his words. "Wow naman, di ko alam na meron pala akong kasamang makata dito," she bobbed her head, raising her palms as she gave him a small applause, obviously mocking him.

Shaking his head, he began inspecting the fairy lights Rianne and JK had set up for him, making sure it was working properly, silently thanking them.

While they may not see eye to eye, he knew he could always count on Rianne on things that matter and this, right here, is a testament of how far she'll go to help him.

Before he could even open his mouth to retaliate, her expression turned into a complete 180, shooting him a serious look as she closed her book, sliding it aside as she placed both of her elbows at the top of the table, giving him a once over. "Thank fucking god. It only took you what? Four years?" she asked rhetorically, making his jaw drop.

Was he really that obvious? "What made you decide to end all of our misery and finally confess to her?"

"'Our misery'" he echoed, eyebrows furrowing as she nodded her head, blinking owlishly.

"You two are really perfect for each other, being painfully dense and oblivious this entire time." she muttered, shaking her head when she realized the reason behind his question. "It's cute that you think you've hidden your feelings for her that well." Setting her lips in a tight line, she let out a small sigh. "I guess when the object of your affection is equally dense as you are, you're really bound to think that, yeah?" Mirroring the smug grin on her face, he threw a small piece of paper at her to which she had dodged easily, cackling softly at his indignation.

Patting over his hoodie's pocket, he let out a small sigh as he felt the familiar weight of the cassette tape he had been carrying the past few days, giving him a small sense of comfort just to quell in the nerves he had been feeling as the night creep in.

"So what's the plan?" she asked, picking up the paper he threw only to throw it back at him, making him glower at her. "Confess to her in an empty classroom like a school boy or do you just blurt it out as if you're talking about the weather?"

"Actually," he trailed off, scratching the side of his face as he met her curious gaze, suddenly feeling all too sheepish. "I was kinda hoping this is where you'll come in." he muttered. "Well, you and your boyfriend!" he backtracked as he saw her mouth curling in an all too familiar smirk.

"Come again?" she leaned forward, obviously enjoying how the tables had turned. "I don't think I heard you correctly. Did you just admit that you needed my help?"

"I'm starting to think this is a bad idea and I should've just approached your boyfriend instead." he groaned, earning a cackle from her.

"You know, for someone who's asking for a favor, you're not being nice." She's clearly enjoying this. Why did he even think it was a good idea to ask her? "Besides, I don't think you've got the courage to ask Juju by yourself. Not when you thought you're being sneaky with your emotions."

He let out a small grumble. "You're never gonna let that go, are you?"

"Siguro mga for this week's punchline lang. Iba naman next week." she grinned. "So when are you gonna grovel for my help?"

Rolling his eyes, he clasped both of his palms as he stared at her directly to her eyes. "Pretty please, can you and your boyfriend help me set up a place for my confession to Monique?" he asked lifelessly, already dreading her impossible demands-

"Sure."

Stunned, he stared at her as if she just grew four heads. "Just like that? No- 'you owe me Cj', 'wow Cj, if you're that desperate drop and give me twenty burpees ya piece of shit?'" if she noticed how his voice went octaves higher, he was grateful she decided not to comment on it.

When he was asked by Rianne if he had a plan, he had let her know the mixtape he had put together way back, giving her the idea of setting up a small picnic blanket by the tree they used to hang out at, transforming it into a somewhat vintage-ish look that three broke college kids could come up with.

Scoffing, she rolled her eyes as she began packing her things. "Au contraire mon ami, I'm not that heartless." she said, giving him a pointed look. "I may be a demon but there are some things where I draw the line. Messing with my friends' happiness is one of them."

"Thank you,"

Glancing at his watch, his eyebrows began to furrow as he mentally recalled his last text to Monique. He hadn't texted her the wrong time, had he?

Checking over their last message, he could feel the familiar coil of dread creeping over his stomach. She wouldn't ditch him this time, right? Surely, she's just running late?

"Don't thank me. I haven't even talked to JK yet." Faltering, she blinked as if she has been struck by a sudden thought. Turning to look at him once more, he could feel that whatever she's gonna say would dampen the mood. "Say, Cj, I'm curious about something."

Raising an eyebrow at her, he wordlessly gestured for her to continue.

"What will you do if-" she furrowed her eyebrow as he saw her contemplate whether to continue or not but before he could even ask, she had made her decision. "What will do you if Monique might not return your feelings?"

Plopping over the blanket, he tilted his head back, eyes closing as he let out a shuddering sigh.

Ah, how could he had forgotten? No wonder the quad's been all too serene, void of life.

Ah. That. He was hoping she wouldn't bring it up but he should've known better.

Averting his gaze, he could feel a bitter smile creeping across his face. "Then… I'll let these emotions go."

"That easily?"

It's the homecoming game. Last game of the season and from what he had heard, the last game that guy would be in too so it is a big event. He should've known. God, what an idiot.

"You seem to forget, Rianne. I love her more than I cherish my own happiness. I'd rather wish she's genuinely happy with someone else rather than force her by my side."

The implication hanging between them weighed heavier than what he had intended but he knew- they both knew he was right. Was it his wishful thinking to have Rianne contradict his words?

Biting his lip, he let out one last huff of air, quelling in the raging emotions he had been feeling, hoping to at least hold the tears at bay just until he's back in the safety of his apartment.

Just a few more minutes, he pleaded. Maybe she just lost track of time. But when there's no sign of even a shadow of hers, he knew better than to keep on waiting.

"Confessing to her is just me wishing she'd choose me. That perhaps, I may be enough for her to choose me this time." he whispered carefully as he looked up only to meet her eyes. Times like this he'd wish he had her ability to easily read emotions but perhaps he's also grateful he hadn't. After all, ignorance is truly a bliss.

Shaking his head, he hung his head low, a slow bitter smile plastered on his mouth.

She made her choice… and it's not him.

-=-

"What happened to us?" his voice came out in a shaky whisper a few minutes after the song had faded out, breaking her out of her reverie. "That's probably what you've been thinking this entire time, yeah?"

"You're probably thinking it's shitty of me to drop off the face of the earth the moment we graduated tas out of nowhere bigla na lang ako magpaparamdam through this, right? Siguro nga naiirita ka knowing I made Rianne and JK my accomplices dito but knowing you, I don't think you'd welcome me if I do this directly."

Wait, what? Even JK? She knew about Rianne's involvement the moment she received her message but to hear that Cj asked for her boyfriend's help is news to her.

Why, the last she saw that boy, he had been shooting her looks she couldn't decipher. At that time, she thought he was judging her from the way she couldn't be bothered to get dressed, brushing it off as she had known him throughout their college days but if what Cj said was true, then could it be those looks were more of pity rather than judgement?

"Remember that day where I asked you to come by our place by the quadrangle? I had it all planned, you know?" She couldn't miss the pain beneath his cheery voice. "I suck at decorating so I asked their help- picture this, just beneath our tree, there's lights-- fairy lights as what Rianne called them- hanging from the branches, underneath them, there's a picnic blanket Jk borrowed from his roommate cause he claimed it's better than to lie on the grass. And man, Monique you should've seen it! There's an actual picnic basket full of food that they both cooked because we all know that I am hopeless in the kitchen."

Bakit ganoon? She wanted to ask, her free hand unconsciously reaching to clutch her chest as she felt her heart being squeezed with every word coming out from his mouth. It took so much for her to feel intensely, to feel strong emotions but with Cj, she could build a great wall around her heart and he would topple it in minutes tops.

"Sa gitna ng picnic blanket, nandun yung speaker ko," he continued with a shuddering breath. "With one cassette tape inserted. This exact cassette tape filled with songs that reminded me of you- of us, throughout the years. Siguro hindi mo ma-connect yung kanta but for me, they were filled with memories of me and you and how our story came to be. I had it all planned- to tell you all about these memories while listening to the songs just beneath that tree while stargazing.

"Ang corny no? Hah. I tried telling Rianne about that but all she told me that if I wanted to confess how I felt then I should be sincere and open and that's why I have this tape with me."

Her breath hitched as she felt her heart stopped along with time as she looked at the speaker with wide eyes. Did he just-?

"Cause if I can't tell you these thoughts, these feelings out loud then I'll do it in the way I best know how… and that is through songs, don't you think?"

She could almost hear his heart shattering at the background as her trembling hand reached for her phone. With her vision blurred with all those unshed tears, she had to use both hands to frantically send a text to Rianne all while willing her breaths to even out.

Millions of thoughts rushed through her that she couldn't comprehend them all but one thing stood clear-- she had to see Cj now.

"So now you know," Cj's hushed voice made her pause before returning her attention back to her phone. "Why I had to disappear for awhile. It's a shitty excuse but I had to step back because I had to respect your decision. But I didn't even made it clear no? I didn't made it clear to you that you have options- that I am an option too."

Could it be…? Faltering, she faced the speaker once more, hope sparking within her, her phone pinging with an answer from her ever so loyal friend. With renewed vigor, she took her hoodie and her keys before rushing through the door, not caring if she faced Rianne's wrath for leaving her speaker on- apartment haunting be damned.

Just before she closed the door, she could hear his voice- the quietest she had ever heard from him, "…do you think I can try again?"

-=-

It was just like he said but not quite like it.

They weren't at their typical place- there weren't any trees, nor students bustling around the quadrangle. There's no field of grass to lay on, nor picnic blankets to sit upon.

Instead, she was directed at some rooftop of a random apartment complex (no doubt this is the very one he lived in currently) situated conveniently in the middle of the city that never sleeps.

There's no fairy lights hanging from the branches just as he had claimed and yet, with the city lights glimmering from a distance, it almost felt like it added a little bit of etherealness to the ambiance he was going for.

There's no stars- not in this light polluted city but just a glance of his eyes, she could've sworn there's galaxies of stars shining behind his eyes the moment he saw her.

Really, it was just like he said: it was a sight to behold. But this, right here? She wouldn't let him know, but this is infinitely better than what he had described.

"Bilis ah," she heard him before she could even see him all in his glory. That mouth of his would really be his undoing, had she even told him that before? "Don't tell me, tumakbo ka kaagad papunta dito?"

Hay nako Lord, may preno ba ang bibig nito? Feel ko may masasapak muna ako bago magungkatan ng nadarama.

But that's just a part of them, isn't it?

The playful bantering that would often end up with one of them wanting to sock the other in the face, the endless jabs that would often leave the other scrambling for a wittier comeback, and the assurance that despite the gap that separated them, they would always be okay.

Scoffing, she took a step closer towards him. "Bakit naman ako tatakbo? Ikaw ba si bebe Yoseob ko? Hindi, di ba?"

It was his turn to scoff. "Oh please. Di ka talaga papapasukin ng guard dito pag dinala mo yun. And really, Monique? You still have that old thing? My god, di pa ba yun inaanay?"

Jaw dropping, she squinted her eyes as betrayal etched on her face. "How dare you slander my love?" she couldn't help the venomous tone seeping from her voice as the fucker had the audacity to laugh at her reaction as if he was proud of himself. "You take that back."

"Take what back? Di ba prone ang mga cardboard sa mga anay?" he challenged, grinning at her as he . "And what, di ba matagal na rin yung cardboard mong yun? Ancient artifact, ganern."

Oh if only looks could kill. He would've been six feet under this entire apartment complex.

"…You're dead to me." she huffed, turning back to the doorframe when she felt two arms snaking around her waist, engulfing her in that familiar warmth she hadn't known she had been missing.

Oddly enough, it felt like she had basked in his hold before as if… it happened once upon a dream. And while being in his hold made her feel like she's back home, she couldn't help the feeling of disappointment wash over her.

Disappointment for herself, that is. If only…

"Hey," his voice quiet and soft, tugging her to face him, meeting his equally soft gaze and a small smile hanging upon his lips making her think that despite everything, he's still the one comforting her. "What's going on up there?" he asked gently, knocking on her forehead softly.

There's so many things she could've said to him- after all, what do you even say to the person you've made to wait?

"Why me?" she asked instead, voice barely audible but with the way he stiffened slightly, she knew he heard her. "You could've had anyone and yet you choose to stick by me, why?"

For a moment there, she anticipated him choosing to answer the same way he did all those years ago- back when all her insecurities ran deep within her.

"I could ask you the same thing, why didn't you pursue him?" he countered, pulling away from her momentarily. "Wasn't that what you wanted? What changed?"

"He's not you," her answer was instantaneous, catching them off guard. She didn't mean to come off too strong, she hadn't mean to confess first and yet, when she saw the stunned look on his face, she knew she had to find the courage to continue.

Letting out a shuddering sigh, she muttered, "No matter how much of a total package he was, there's one thing he couldn't be and that's- he's not you." She could see the conflict dancing upon his eyes and while she understood, she couldn't help the pang of sadness washing over her.

She could've said more but with the way she saw the understanding dawning upon his eyes, she knew she didn't need to elaborate.

"Ang daya mo, alam mo yun?" he let out a small chuckle, shaking his head fondly at her. "Pinatawag nga kita para ako yung aamin and yet, here we are."

"Ayan!" She exclaimed, startling him, his hold on her faltering momentarily. "Kinuntsaba mo talaga sina Rianne? Goodness Cj, kala ko ba kaaway mo ang beshy ko?" she asked him, tone accusatory making him roll his eyes at her, good naturedly.

"Focus," he mumbled, poking her forehead before placing his arms around her once more. "Moment ko na nga 'to, aagawin mo pa talaga?" he whined, earning a grin from her.

"Ay sorry, sorry- please, do continue." she nodded off as if daring him to act upon what he had been planning the entire night for.

"I like you."

Drawing in a sharp breath, it was her turn to be stunned as she met his gaze. Taking her silence as his cue, he dared to continue. "I think I've said all I can in that mixtape so I hoped you listened to it carefully kasi ang hirap umulit, Monique please lang." if she didn't know any better, she could've thought he was offering her a cheeky grin when in fact, it was actually a nervous smile.

"I've liked you for a long time, Monique. Back then, I thought I would've been satisfied being your friend cause that's better than nothing but as time went by, my feelings for you just grew stronger and I-"

"-I think I got greedier, wanting to be the source of your happiness. Kasi if I can make you happy as a friend then maybe… just maybe, I can be a source of your happiness as someone more."

Ah. What's this feeling? How is it that this boy in front of her made her go through a rollercoaster of emotions in a span of one night?

How could he make her heart feel so full and content? How could he ease all of her worries with poorly constructed words and mistimed jokes?

But that's just it, right? That this right here, this is what love feels like, right?

Eyes boring right into her, she could feel the surge of emotions running through him as his eyes sought hers. "And so, Monique, do you think I can try again?"

A heartbeat passed.

"Yes."

#commissioned piece #actually it's more of a gift #long fics #scene capture #f2l #slow burn #project mixtape #friends to lovers

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azertycake · 2 months

Text

Nighthawks | short story

ao3 link

content warning for murder

~800 words

So. Let's call them Ms Red and Mr Blue.

It was a dark and stormy night, but one that reserved a comforting familiarity considering that it was typical British weather. The alcohol burned away the rain, and the glasses felt like warm condensation between your fingers, and the chatter melted between the chords of an untuned piano that some bloke had been playing in the corner. When the sun dips out of sight and the night takes root, nothing feels particularly real.

Ms Red and Mr Blue weren't the only patrons at the bar, because the damn place attracted drunks like a flame does a moth, but the faces came and went. It became a blur of nothing in particular, and Ms Red and Mr Blue were happy to treat the folks as extras in their little world.

They both asked for water since they hadn't thought ahead to who would be driving them home that night, or even if they'd be driving home at all. In hindsight, that wasn't an option for them in the first place.

"What I'm saying is-" Mr Blue stopped himself when he realised he did not, in fact, know what he was saying. Points are difficult to make when you can't hear yourself think. Somebody shut the bloke on the piano up.

Red gave him a moment to think about his words.

"What I'm saying is... I'm saying that we're idiots," Blue insisted, remembering where he was going with this. "Look, I know we talked about it, but I never thought we'd actually do it."

"Well, we have now." Red drank her water and swallowed the pip of the lemon wedge that had been haphazardly thrown into the glass. "And we'll skip town in a bit, just like we planned."

"Why can't we just go now?"

"It's raining." She nodded in the vague direction of the window that had been made into a mosaic art piece of the street outside thanks to the downpour.

He deadpanned at this, waiting for the punchline to what was obviously a joke. No punchline came and he buried his head in his hands. "At this rate, we're going to prison." Blue hunched over and swallowed the lump in his throat. Then, to the bartender, "I'll take a beer."

Red rolled her eyes and said nothing. She traced the rim of her glass with her index finger.

His voice became thick with frustration. "You never listen to me. You drag me into this mess and then you never listen to me, goddammit."

And then Red dug her high heel so far into Blue's foot that he was certain there'd be a hole in his shoe. He let his water drop onto the counter, narrowly avoiding spilling, and stuck his fist into his mouth to bite down on. When the pain ebbed away, he removed his hand and noticed the bite marks had drawn some blood. Red looked awfully pleased. "You were saying?"

"I hate you."

She lowered her voice. "But you're stuck with me now." Then, back at normal speaking volume, "I suppose we'll get a taxi." To punctuate this, she called a taxi.

"Yeah. Now. Before anyone finds him and stirs up a panic."

The air between them was horribly uncomfortable. The darkness and the storminess of the night suddenly felt a lot more tense. The bartender left Blue his drink but the man was already out the door by the time it had arrived. Rain lashed into the bar as he opened the door to leave.

Red followed after him. "The taxi's not here yet."

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Jesus Christ, I know."

Red smiled as if nothing was wrong. Her voice went low again. It sounded like a knife on a whetstone. "Are you regretting killing him? It's been an hour, for god's sake."

"I didn't kill him!" His whisper was like the crack of a whip. "That was all you. I just..."

"I know." Red's voice softened. "A dead body's a decent excuse to leave here, isn't it? Can't exactly stay here with a target on our back."

They let the rain mourn the death. The concrete screamed and hissed with rainfall. It smelled of stone. If you closed your eyes and blocked out the muffled piano music, it felt like you were in a graveyard. "Our," Blue repeated. "What does that mean?"

Red shrugged like she hadn't just killed a man. "It means we're in this together now. Like I said before."

"Right."

Red snorted with laughter. "Well, don't sound too eager."

"This'll be the only murder. This is it. We're done killing people after this."

Red contemplated this plea only slightly. "Most likely."

A fun fact about Ms Red and Mr Blue: they were not done with killing people. Not by a long shot.

#azerty writes #writing #writeblr #original fiction #original writing #original work #original character #ao3 #tw murder #A POCKET FULL OF PROSES

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theratboyking · 1 year

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Softly Into The Night

Prologue: He Came in the night

Author's Note:

So this is the edited version of the prologue I wrote early this year to this series. There are still probably a few things I missed but I really hope you guys enjoy it. I have a few ideas as to where this story can go. Comments and such are greatly appreciated, I would love to know what you guys think :)

Pairing: Cardinal Copia/Reader/Papa Emeritus iii (this will also have eventual Copia/Terzo but that won't be for a while) (This is also a slow burn so it's gonna be a while until we even get here)

Word count: 6.9k (This is so close to 7k holy fuck)

Chapter Summary: This couldn't be real, I was just having a bad dream. He can't be real. My mom might have kept a lot of stuff from me but surely she would have something as important as being the Antichrist. I was going to wake up any minute now. I will be in my bed and go about my day normally but as I slam my eyes close willing myself to wake up, Lucifer still remained.

AO3 Link Next ->

“I needed to get a car.” The thought left my head just as quickly as it entered.

The late hour left the streets unsettling, almost too quiet. Usually, I don’t mind the walk; it helps me calm down, but with the increase in late nights at the office getting out of hand, I find myself leaving later and later with each passing day. The vacant streets are filled with deadly silence, only broken by the sound of my steps meeting the sidewalk and the chilling howl of the wind. The feeling that I’m being watched becomes almost impossible to ignore. The cold November air was biting my face, and my steps quickened. The pit in my stomach that had been forming all sinking deeper the further I walked away from my job.

The moon hung high in the sky, providing more light than the flickering street lights. The breeze only seemed wilder with distance - it almost sounded like someone was screaming. The leaves on the trees cry out into the night with each gust of wind. I shiver, stuffing my hands in my coat pockets, seeking warmth from the cold. The feeling of dread grew further from my office.

I’m probably just being paranoid. The events of this miserable day are still fresh in my mind; that's what it had to be. I’m just tired. My bed practically called my name. All I could imagine was falling face-first into bed and forgetting about this whole day.

I was so lost in thought I didn’t even notice the cracks in the road. Losing my balance, I lost my grip on my bag. Some of the contents spilled out. I scramble to grab the contents, hoping that the feeling of being watched was nothing more than that. A feeling.

I couldn’t help but let my thoughts wander as I gathered everything, starting my journey home once more. Nothing seemed to want to go my way today. It all started with me sleeping well past my alarm. My morning consisted of me stumbling to prepare for the day, missing my mother's daily call worrying about how I was doing. She left a somewhat cryptic message stuck in my day this morning. I practically ran out my door by the time I was finally ready. My outfit was half haphazardly put together, and my coffee was missing the creamer I use, hoping I had enough time to make it to the bus stop. It seemed whatever higher power there is would not take pity on me today, the bus just leaving as I hurled myself around the corner. I was nearly two hours late when I finally got to work. My desk was already littered with piles of work I would need to have done before the end of the day. When it had finally come time for everyone to start heading home, it came to no one's surprise when Andrew dropped an additional mountain of papers on my desk, saying it needed to be done before the meeting tomorrow, his smug face almost sending into a rage.

No, today has not been my day. I can't help the groan that leaves my lips when I glance at my phone, 1:47 flashing across the screen. Even for me, this is late; I’m usually out of the office before midnight. It felt like whatever had been watching me started to join me on the venture home.

When the run-down building I call my home came into view, I had an internal panic attack. I practically sprinted into the lobby, relieved to see that the ancient elevator was working for a change. The only good news I’ve gotten today.

“Come on, come on, come on.” the words fell under my breath - my fist never let up on the button. I threw my head in panic, eyes scanning desperately to make sure no one had entered the decrepit building. The room remained empty, the only person crazy enough to be out right now being my frantic form.

It felt like a lifetime before the familiar ding broke the thick silence the room was drowning in. The doors opened slowly. “Thank God.” relief makes its way to my voice as I throw myself into the elevator's safety. My panic state only subsided when the doors creaked closed. Pushing the button for my floor, I slump against the wall taking a deep breath, trying to slow my racing heart. The confines of the lift calmed me slightly; my head began to rest against the cold metal of the wall behind my eyes started to close. My thoughts wander to the message Mom left me this morning. She sounded more paranoid, if that was possible. She frantically switched between telling me I had stayed here too long, how she should have said to me about my father - how I needed to get out tonight. The call only ended with her pleading that I did not go home tonight and that I call her back as soon as I could.

Her voice had an edge; I’d never heard her that scared. Usually, I don’t give her ramblings much thought; I left all of that behind when I moved away, but after my walk home tonight and the dread I’ve been feeling all day, I can’t help but believe her. She even mentioned my father; that was something she never did. My dad was a touchy subject for her. Maybe I should have just stayed the night at my desk. Sighing, my body relaxed further into the wall. I can already feel my frustration growing. Even after escaping, she still affects me.

The relationship between me and my mom was tense, to say the least. My mother always wanted to have kids but was told she could never. When I was young, she told me that finding out she would have a kid was some of the best news of her life. After that, it was just me and her for as long as I could remember. I never knew my father; my mom left him before I was born. Although I am my mom's pride and joy, to say that she is overprotective would be putting it mildly. It was scarce that she even let me out of her sight.

Throw in the fact that I was a magnet for the unexplainable. I had a knack for finding trouble, or rather, it had a knack for finding me. Strange things always seem to follow us to whatever poor town we wall home. The amount of time our power in the house would flair too much to count - objects fell off the counter when I was in a room - a mirror breaking when I was angry. The list was endless, if I’m being honest. We never really seemed to stay in a town longer than a year before the weird occurrences around me became too noticeable, sending us packing to whatever city she decided on in the car as we left.

Despite all the wild rules my mom made me live by, she always had my back in life, always coming to my aid when I needed her. Although my temper boiled over a lot as a kid, I struggled to control my emotions. Hell, I still do. I was always the scary new kid, an easy target for their endless bullying. Their cruel behavior often sent me over the edge, but Mom was always there to defend me. Mom had to come to school a lot to deal with the angry parents and teachers over whatever I had done more times than I could count. But she was never angry.

In a way, she understood the struggle I was having. It was one of the few comforts I had in my childhood. As I grew up, I started to loathe constantly moving; I just wanted to be expected. I couldn’t take running from place to place when things got terrible anymore. It was hard finally break free from the restraining rules she had in place for me all my life.

It was a nightmare telling her I wanted to be on my own. The argument was long and filled with every insult we could think to throw at the other, but it was a battle she lost. I was not taking no for an answer. It was the only time I had ever seen her genuinely angry. Even after I had moved to my current home, she called daily, always expressing her worry about me being in the city all by myself. I’ve grown so used to my mom's antics that I don't mind it anymore.

There was just something about this message that I couldn't seem to shake. I spring to my feet, huffing in frustration. I had hardly noticed how long it’s been. The abrupt halt of the elevator made me lose my balance; even the doors seemed hesitant to see what was on the other side.

I jumped as the moths flew in, going immediately to the bright light that hung from the center of the elevator. Then, clearing my throat, I composed myself. I relaxed at the sight; it was just how I left it, wallpaper peeling off. The dimly lit lights flickered as I made my way down the hall. Nothing was on fire, no weird man was standing in my hallway, and all my neighbors were probably sleeping in their beds.

But still, I paused when I reached my door, wondering if I should go in or not. Mom’s warning is playing through my thoughts; I’m thinking about just taking a cab to the airport to stay at her house for a bit. I shake my head; this is ridiculous. Nothing is going to happen; I’m being paranoid. I’m not a little kid anymore; Mom's crazy stories aren't going to run my life anymore. I shuffle around my bag, grabbing my keys. I am a grown adult; I can't keep running all my life. I unlocked the door, quickly letting myself in, relieved to finally be home.

Refelife was short-lived as I went to flip the switch to turn the lights on… Nothing.

I groan, flipping the button several times just for safety. Well, shit. The darkness I was met with did little to help with the fear I was already feeling, mentally punching myself. I could have sworn I paid the electric bill. Today just keeps getting better and better.

I throw my bag on the coat hanger I keep by the door. Quietly I removed my shoes, cautiously beginning to the living room. I hesitate right before I enter, almost convinced that someone will be sitting waiting for me. I take a deep breath bracing myself. As fast as I could, I rounded the corner, ready to fight any possible intruder, only to be met with the sight of my empty couch and TV. There was no sign anyone had broken in. Just like out there, everything is precisely how it was when I left this morning.

Ok, I may be paranoid. Just the effects of having a bad day today, that's what it has to be—relaxing with every small step I take to my room, laughing nervously as I go. I just need to go to bed. I have to be at work in less than six hours, and I still need to take a shower. So I continued to go to my room, lost in my thoughts.

“Hello, my dear.” A low infernal rumble surrounded me, sounding as if it was fading in and out of the silence of the room it was trapped in. My breath catches in my throat. My eyes go wide as realization dawns on me… I was not alone.

Oh fuck. I twisted around to see the figure that somehow went unnoticed. I stumbled back, falling when I tripped over the coffee table. The scream that left my body sounded like it came out of a horror film as I tried to return to my feet.

This is it. This is how I’m gonna die, isn't it? I could see blue flames floating in the darkness of the hallway I had come from. Oh fuck.

Fuck, I am not about to die letting my mom be right.

Regaining my balance, I look around desperately, trying to find a way to escape or defend myself. He took up the space of the hallway that led to my door. I couldn't run. I couldn't go out the window either; I lived on the seventh floor. My building's fire escape couldn't handle my weight being so unkempt. I couldn’t escape. Fighting it is. Grabbing the lamp from the coffee table, I bring myself to a fighting possession, ready to defend myself from the intruder. I stood my ground; I would not show whoever this was the satisfaction.

A deep chuckle emerged from the hallway, the two blue orbs getting brighter the closer he got. He entered soon after, filling the room with his impossible form, the moonlight from the window draped his figure with each step he took toward me.

He was abnormally tall, and his body was unnaturally thin. The massive pair of wings stretching from take up the most space. They looked like they had almost been scorched, the bottoms glowing with dying flames. His face was almost too perfect, skin impossibly smooth like it had never seen a blemish a day. His eyes danced with blue flames, piercing into my soul, lips stretched in a gentle smile. His gaze held something familiar about it like he knew everything there was to know about me, all my deepest darkest secrets. His hair almost looked like starlight cast a halo around his head, coming to rest halfheartedly around his shoulders. His body seemed to flare around him, not looking like it had a shape. The abnormally perfect skin poking out, marking the distinct forms of where his arms and legs should be, speaks of silver shining throughout the black void that made up the rest of his body. His movement was unnaturally smooth, making his body appear almost motionless as he approached me. He was unsettling to look at, but it was impossible to look away.

Why the fuck didn’t I listen to Mom

He stopped before me, looking from my face to my makeshift weapon. The void that was his body took up more space as he scratched what looked like his hand, gently taking the lamp from my hand. I couldn't seem to put up a fight, my body refusing to move in his presence. He looked at it in amusement before placing it back where it went. His gaze turns back to my eyes. My breath catches in my throat.

“You’ll have to do better than this if you truly wish to stand a chance against me, my darling.” His voice is low and smooth, like honey sounding like each word would build on itself, hanging heavy in the air until it faded. Amusement and wonder made their way to what should be his face, almost waiting to see what I would do next. Who does this creature think he is? Was he toying with me before it ended me? A sick display for his amusement? I refuse to play his game. I refuse to show how scared I am.

“If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with.” my voice was cold, my anger rising with each passing moment.

Confusion made its way to his face - head tilting to the side. “Kill you? No, I am not here to kill you.” He pauses, bowing, “I am here to meet the daughter who was stolen from me.” “Daughter?” The word slipped past my lips. So this thing was my father? This had to be some sick nightmare; there was no way this was real life.

I refused to look away from his eyes, trying to hide the fear racing through my veins, “No. No, there's no way that I’m your daughter. I’m sorry, but you must be mistaken.” My voice wavered, but I refused to back down. “Who… What are you?”

He took a step back, looking surprised that I did not know who he was, as if it was the most obvious thing on the planet. Then, he proudly gestured towards himself, lowering his body so that his intense stare aligned with mine.

“I am known by many names. Too many to count. I am the Devil, but your mother would have known me as Lucifer.” He paused, giving me a moment to process the statement, not speaking again until his words died in the air. “I have waited a long time to meet you finally,” his gaze softened, his lips morphing into a small smile. “Your mother and I did have a rather large love affair.” voice low and full of fondness. Finally, he returned to his impossible height, “Has your mother told you nothing?” The question hung heavy in the air.

The answer to the question was simple. “No.” It was so quiet I don’t know if he even heard it.

Mom was full of secrets; there was a lot of stuff according to her; I was better off not knowing. Mom refused to even acknowledge any contribution my father had in creating me. Always taking constant prying just for the smallest of details I begged for as a child. The very few times she would mention him, there was always a far-off look in her, losing herself in thought. But indeed, something as big as the fact that my father was the literal King of Hell would be worth knowing. The room was spinning around me; this couldn’t be real. My knees give out, and my body collapses on the couch. This had to be a nightmare. I will wake up at my desk any minute, then go about my uneventful day, rinse, and repeat.

“Well, that has certainly made matters a lot more complicated,” His voice appeared less distorted with each word he spoke, shrinking down to a normal-sized human,“ I was hoping to avoid this, I always hate to make myself more suitable for mortals, but your mother was always an exception.” The otherworld figure changed into something more human as he went.

He looked pristine, the black suit that came to rest on his body starkly contrasted with the pale skin that peaked out. Pushing his platinum blond hair away from his eyes, relieving them to be the same color as the piercing blue flames that previously took its place. Even in this form, he redacted an extraordinary power only he seemed to possess; even now, it was still otherworldly.

“I should have known Mary wouldn't have said anything, the stubborn woman she is.” He adjusted his outfit slightly.

”Now,” clapping his hand together, he carried on, “why don’t we bring her here so she can explain herself?” He cleared his throat, straightening himself to his new height, “Let’s not make this difficult, Mary; there is much to explain and not a lot of time to do it.”

Snapping his figures nonchalantly, there was a moment when nothing happened. I dared not make a sound as a ring of blue fire sprang to life in the middle of my living room, the vague shape of a figure appearing with it.

“What the hell?” The confused voice made me sit up in my seat. There in my living stood my mother, not phased by the fact that she had somehow ended up here. Scanning the room in confusion, she stops at the sight of me and Lucifer.

She looks like she's seen a ghost. “Lucifer.” Straightening her stance at the sight of him. “You haven't changed a day.” Voice losing its confusion. “Hello, my love.” Lucifer bows slightly toward my mother.

“So you finally found her?” She sounded defeated.

“I never lost sight of either of you,” an impossible warmth in his eyes at his confession.

“Of course, you didn't,” she chuckled softly, pausing, looking towards my disheveled form. “We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I’m afraid that we must, my love. Time is running out” His voice was quiet as he shook his head, “She is only getting stronger; she needs to learn to control it.”

Mom scoffed and stepped out of the circle, going over to him; the flames collapsed as if they were never there. She stopped before him, hand gently cradling his face as she continued, “I tried my hardest to keep it under control. To keep her hidden. She knows nothing of your world, Lucifer. You can’t just show up now and destroy that for her. I told you I did not want this life for her. We agreed she would have a normal life. ”

“No, you made that choice Mary. You are the one who left our home, left me. You got scared of what we created, and you ran. You didn’t even allow me to prove I could be there for you throughout it. To prove that you were something so incredibly dear to me. You and our child.” His fiery gaze briefly rested on me before returning to Mom. “You ran as you did for everything else. That is your sin, Mary.” A warning tone filled his voice.

My mother looked shocked as he reached for the hands she had brought to his face, bringing them close to his chest. “We both knew this would happen one day. She has a right to know the realm she will one day rule. However, it’s becoming too dangerous for her to hide from her true nature. It is growing harder to keep her powers sealed inside of her; I’m afraid it's time, my love. The veil is only growing thinner; hiding what she is is hard. The time is coming when she will no longer be able to hide it anymore.”

“I need more time; she's still just our little girl, Lucifer.” her voice cracked, muffling as she dropped her face into his chest. His arms came to rest around her frame, doing his best to comfort her, “I am afraid we’re running out of time, My love.”

The room buzzes around me, a million questions flying to my mind as their conversion sinks in. What about a veil? What powers were they talking about? This is crazy; they talk about me like I’m not there. Was my whole life based on a lie? I couldn’t stand to sit there anymore; I need answers, and them now. “Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on!” This snapped them out of their reunion; seeming to remember I was there. My sudden outburst surprised them; hell, even I was surprised.

Breaking from Lucifer, Mom made her way to the couch, taking me in her arms. “My baby,” swaying my body with hers, tears leaking into my hair as her body begins to shake, “I should have been honest with you. I should have told you when you first started showing signs. I didn't know what to do; I always thought I would have more time.” I couldn’t tell if she was trying more to comfort herself rather than me.

I jump when I feel a cold hand rest on my shoulder. At some point during Mom’s breakdown, Lucifer had moved so that he was now resting on the other side of me, allowing us to have our moment. This is surreal.

“I need you to tell me what’s happening, Mom.” Trying my best to keep my cool, slightly pushing her away.

Sniffing as she tried to dry the never-ending sea of tears, “Oh honey. I fell in love with a handsome young man long ago. He had a lot of money to spare and told me he worked in business. He said he made deals all day, so he was never home during the day. He told me I would want nothing for as long as I lived. Then one day, he asked me to marry him. I was young and in love with a man who showered me affectionately; baby, we were so happy. I was told I could never have kids; we weren’t using protection. And then, one day, I found out I was pregnant with you. I was thrilled; Lucifer was overjoyed at the news. But with the news, Lucifer suddenly had a lot he needed to tell me. He told me everything about who he was, showed me what he was, and told me what you could be. I got so scared of what could happen, and I knew I had to find a way to keep you safe.” she took a shaky breath pausing before continuing, “So I took as much money as I could and a suitcase of clothes, and I ran. Even after I had you and you started showing signs, we kept running; we have been running all your life. Honey, Lucifer is your father. You are the Antichrist…” Her mouth held agape; no words escaped after she uttered those words.

My mind goes blank at her confession. This couldn't be real; sure, I had my moments, but nothing extraordinary about me; there was no way I could be the Antichrist. I work in an office job, for god sake. Mom looked on helplessly, trying to give me answers to my raging questions but didn't know where to start.

As if sensing this, Lucifer said, “Growing up, did you experience strange things happening around you? It started small initially, things you could easily push to the back of your mind. A classmate falling after you said she hoped she would after she pulled your hair? Always a figure just out of sight but vanishing when you focus on it? Your favorite snakes appearing out of thin air just because you wanted them?” He stopped momentarily; I turned my body completely to look at him. I can feel my eyes widening in realization; everything he had mentioned happened in my childhood. Things I have never said to anyone before in my life. Not even my mom knew about these things, but it was as if he knew the memories by heart.

He didn't allow me to ask before he continued, an edge forming in his voice, “But as you grew up, they only seemed to become less and less explainable. More supernatural. The fire that mysteriously started in your kitchen when your date stood you up? The window at work shattering in front of your boss when you didn’t get the promotion you worked for? Or how about the time your coworker fell down the stairs just after he was getting just a little too handsy?” The horror began to sink in with each passing question; these were all things that happened in the last year. Events I had tried to brush off as mere coincidence, now I’m not so sure.

“Stop.” I can’t think; this isn’t real; I need to wake up now.

“And they have only been getting stronger; people are starting to notice, aren't they? This is but a fraction of the power you possess. We have tried to suppress them, but they are becoming too powerful to build up inside you. It is only a matter of time before it swallows you whole.” He refused to give up; he was trying to prove something.

“Please. Please stop” I can feel tears start to fall, I can't breathe, and I feel like my body is on fire. I think my mom grab my arm, trying to help calm me. I can feel myself losing control the more he pushes.

He was relentless “You are my child. You are forever burdened with darkness you cannot run from. Destiny is calling upon you, and you can no longer hide. You must face who you are.”

“Shut up!” There was a sickening shatter around the room. Glass fell to the floor. The coffee table and tv looked like a baseball bat had been taken to them. The tears fell silently as I looked on in disbelief. There was sadness in his eyes, but still, they held comfort in them. Almost like he was apologizing for everything. He returns his hand to my shoulder, slowly rubbing comforting circles into my shirt.

“I tried to let you live normally for as long as possible. I kept your true nature inside you, but even with that, it spilled out. You have only gotten stronger as you’re older, and I am so proud of you for controlling it as well as you have.” He stopped as if contemplating what to say next. His face held what looked like love as he gently pushed some of the hair out of my face, “I can not take this away from you, but I know a place that can help.” He was gentle with his words, a sort of parental comfort melting into his smooth voice.

Had he genuinely come here tonight with no malintent? Was he here to help me? I can feel my mom slowly rubbing up and down my back. This is happening. My whole life had been a lie. I’m not crazy. Everything that had happened in my life that I had tried so desperately to explain finally made sense. The weight of their touch was the only thing keeping me in this reality. I did not want my father to be Lucifer, but I couldn't help but feel like he had always been there. The moment felt all too comforting, despite my whole life falling around me.

“What can I do?” There was no going back from this, everything had changed, and I could do nothing to stop it.

His voice never lost its warmth as he explained, “There is a ministry where many of my most devout followers reside; one of the most loyal bloodlines to serve me runs the church from there. They have proven useful in spreading my message to the world. Although most of them have had experiences with the occult, they could help you understand your birthright. You would be well protected from those wishing to cause you harm now that you are becoming more noticeable.”

“Who would want to hurt me?” I question an edge of fear forming in my voice.

“The more powerful you become, you will become a beacon to the many creatures in this world. However, you would cause a lot of problems with the plans they have. Many would not wish to see you become a problem for them. Many would do anything to make sure you do not fulfill your destiny. It is unsafe for you to remain in the open like this; I might be unable to protect you from everything.” His warning crashed down on me, was I already being hunted? Was my intuition correct? Did they already know where I am?

“This is my life. I can’t just disappear from it, from all I know.” I protest weakly, the fear never leaving as he explains the danger I am in, but the desire to finally have answers for all the burning questions I had growing up only seemed to keep growing. What am I capable of doing?

“A life that has done nothing but shuns you for who you are. People have never understood you; you were never meant to live in such a dull world. I can offer you a place to finally feel as though you belong. Become something truly worthy of the world you will one day rule. But know this, it is your choice. Experience the world you were born to be a part of; you will no longer be an outcast. Embarrass the princess of hell you were born to be. The seal on your powers would be broken, you would be all-powerful, and you must learn to control it. If you do not go, you will lose complete control over who you are. The darkness inside of you will devour you till you are unrecognizable. Eventually, you will die and become something even more grotesque. If you choose this, I will keep your powers inside you for as long as possible; I will protect you with my life to give you as much time as possible. I cannot force you to make any decisions; it is up to you to make that choice. If you decide to go, you will not return to this life. You will have to embrace the unholy god you will become if you are to accept what destiny has laid out for you.” The warning hung heavy in the air.

I was beginning to fall for the temptation of his offer; I could feel my hesitation leaving me. The fear being the only thing remaining, do I have a choice? If I stayed here, there was a strong likelihood that I would die. People started noticing the connection between me and the events that seemed to follow me like a shadow. It was beginning to reach a point where I would have to move away anyway. He was right; nothing was keeping me here; it’s not like I had anything worth staying for. I had a job going nowhere that was working me to death. I had no friends and no boyfriend. There was no reason I really should stay. But if I go to this ministry to learn about what I am, to learn to control it, would I still be me, or will I become something else entirely? But then again, I have never indeed been me; I have been desperately trying to be what everyone else wanted me to be. I had been an outcast my whole life, trying to hide from others for some sort of acceptance; even in the life I’ve built here, I still do it. I have never felt normal because I have never been normal. Could this finally fill the void I have felt for so long? Can my soul finally feel like it is no longer wandering? The only thing keeping me from accepting was how terrified I was.

Mom shuffled from behind me, turning me to face her. She had been crying more than me. The tears stained her puffy cheeks as she tried to put on her best reassuring smile, “He’s right, honey. I tried to keep you safe, but I only made this worse. I had tried for so long to protect you from getting hurt that I never saw how much you already were. I’m sorry for everything; I’m sorry that I failed you. I love you so much. I wish I could have more time but baby, you need to go.”

I couldn’t hold it in anymore; I collapsed into her. “You never failed me, Mom.” I was holding her with such force I’m surprised I didn’t snap her in half, “I love you too.” We stayed like this for a minute, neither wanting to let go.

“I’m afraid we are running out of time; once the sun rises, I must return to Hell. The choice is yours, but it needs to be made.” Lucifer breaks the moment. I gazed at the clock on my wall that had been cracked during my outburst, 4:08. Shit, I hadn't noticed how long either of them had been there. I look back to Lucifer; I had made my choice.

“Take me there.” A fire had been lit inside me, a determination I had never felt setting in. I have to know who I am and what I am capable of. I would not succumb to this; I would not die. I will fight; I will live.

“And so it shall be,” he only remained serious for a moment, relaxing as if he was relieved by the outcome, “I love popping into the Abbey now and then; the ghouls there are always so fun.” He was no longer beside me on the couch; he stood by my mother; I didn't even feel him move.

He kneeled before her, taking her face into his hand, gently wiping away her tears. “My love, I promise we will not lose our daughter.”

She gripped his hand as if it were her lifeline, “I hope you're right, darling.”

“Next time, we will have more time to catch up.” Lucifer joked lightly, searching her face for reassurance that they would meet again.

“Here’s to next time,” Mom gently smiled at a silent promise being made. Then, she turned to look at me, breaking from Lucifer to take me in her arms once more. This time I’m surprised she didn't break me. “Destiny comes in many faces; you will find yours.” The cryptid words rang low in my ear as she pulled away.

She looked once more to Lucifer, voice trembling. “Make sure she is safe, my love.” They begin to move closer to each other.

“I will,” he vowed as their lips met.

A blue flame erupted around them, consuming their figures, and my mother slowly faded away. They only break away from the other once the two of us are left. He looked sadly at the vacant spot on the couch, a soft smile on his face as he looked at where my mother once sat.

Not moving from his spot, he turns his gaze to me. Red begins streaming down his face, silent tears falling from his eyes, “I wish things could have been different. I wanted nothing more than to have been a part of your life and truly watched you grow into the strong young woman you have become. But that is not what fate gave me, and I’m afraid I am out of time.”

The form he had taken since my mother had arrived began to melt. Black smoke emitted from him. The flames that had been there before sprung to life; he had returned to the form he had taken when we first met. His voice returned to the heavy force it once was, “Once you take my hand, there will be no going back. You will become a Princess of hell; I cannot promise that the transformation won't be painless.”

He stood up suddenly, and at such a speed it was almost impossible to see, “Do you understand?” He began to reach out his hand slowly, giving me one last chance to decline his offer.

"Yes.” I didn't hesitate in my response. I was no longer scared; I refused to be; a part of me wanted this; it was begging to be let out. Taring at its cage, freedom within its grasp. I stand from the couch, looking up to meet his gaze, “I understand.”

“Good.” Despite the gravity of the situation, he never changed how he looked at me. I looked at the hand he had stretched in front of him. I took his hand.

For a moment, nothing happened, then it hit me all at once; it felt like a thousand suns had gone supernova inside of me. I was being burned from the inside out; it felt like a fire was trying to burst out from the inside. I could feel my body contorting as I collapsed to the ground. I could barely make out my finger sharpening, my arm was getting long, and my fingertips turning jet black. My body felt as if it was being stretched out. The raw energy flowing through every cell in my body felt like I was being torn apart and put back together at a speed I could not comprehend. What must have been seconds felt like an eternity before it stopped.

I could faintly make out the sound of Lucifer’s voice, “Extraordinary,” before I lost complete consciousness, letting the nothingness take me.

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