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barrysjumpsuit · 3 years

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our little family - rafe cameron x barry

summary: while cleaning up after a storm, rafe and barry find a kitten, which barry insists they keep

wc: 1.3k

warnings: drug use, profanity, soft barry, usual rarry stuff

a/n: pure unedited fluff

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The most recent storm had been a big one.

The screened-in porch attached to Barry’s trailer was no match for it, nor were the tarps they had pinned up. Water had seeped into the ratty old carpet, and all the chairs left outside had been blown over. Thunder shook the building, Rafe unable to sleep despite Barry’s arm slung over him during the night. His boyfriend stirred early to find Rafe reading a book that laid on the nightstand in the dim light from the battery-powered push light above the bed.

“You better’ve not lost my spot, Cameron,” Barry murmured, tightening his grip on Rafe.

“I would never,” Rafe scoffed, flipping the book to show Barry’s bookmark – an old Dollar General receipt – sticking out from the middle of the book.

“Couldn’t sleep? Barry asked, his voice still tired. Rafe looked down at him; his hair was messy, his face still squished against the pillow, gazing up at Rafe with a small smile.

Rafe just shrugged, putting the book down. “It’s a lot louder here than at Tannyhill.”

He almost said home, but realized that Tannyhill never really felt like home. Home was here, in a torn-apart trailer that in all honesty should be condemned.

Damn, who would have seen that coming.

After laying in bed together for another half hour, Barry pushed himself up, rolling over to push aside the curtains to peek outside. Rafe had gotten up at the first light, looking outside to survey the damage before returning to bed. “It’s a mess outside,” he told Barry quietly.

“You got any plans today?” Barry grunted, flopping back down beside Rafe, who just shook his head. “Good, cuz I think we got some work to do today, cleaning up n shit.”

Rafe nodded, leaning down to kiss Barry’s forehead before they both got up.

“Fuckin’ hate this shit, man,” Barry grumbled as his bare feet hit the wet carpet. He pulled down the tarps to reveal the carnage that awaited them in the yard. Luckily, the sandy soil had meant that there weren’t any puddles or standing water (outside of inside the trailer, of course), but the wind had done most of the damage.

Their bikes had been spared in the makeshift “garage” they made, somehow still upright. Rafe followed Barry into the yard and he began cleaning up the trash and mess of outdoor furniture while Barry checked on his boat.

Once Barry was satisfied, he came to help Rafe move the old couch that sat outside beside the trailer to where it would get some sun and hopefully dry off before it was beyond saving. Barry pulled the cushions off, tossing them into the yard, before they each took a side.

With a slight grunt, they lifted the couch, shuffling to move it. Once they started moving it, a small orange shape darted out from underneath the couch and disappeared through a hole below the trailer.

“The fuck was that?” Rafe asked, as Barry dropped his side of the couch.

“You ain’t ever seen a cat before, homie?” Barry asked, dropping to his knees and then stomach to look underneath the trailer. “You got a flashlight?”

Rafe pulled out his phone, but it was dead. He went into the trailer and grabbed a flashlight that lived on the kitchen counter; he went back outside, handing it to Barry, who used it to look under the trailer. “Hey, lil guy.”

“You’re worried about a cat?” Rafe asked, squatting down beside Barry.

“Hell yeah I’m worried about a cat, you see them mice inside?” Barry grunted, crawling to stick as much of his body inside the hole as possible. Rafe could hear him talking to the cat, his words muffled before he called out louder. “Rafe, can you pull away this siding?”

Rolling his eyes, Rafe did as he was told, pulling back the flimsy siding. Barry immediately wriggled inside, just his bare feet sticking out.

“C’mere, little bastard,” Barry called in a sing-songy voice, and Rafe couldn’t help but laugh. “Shut your trap, country club,” his boyfriend shot back. “This guy’ll be more useful than you when it comes to the mice.”

“What do you mean?” Rafe whined, peering inside. He could see the kitten hunched defensively a few feet from Barry’s outstretched hand.

“Because you never check the traps!” Barry’s flashlight was in his mouth now, pinched between his teeth. “Come here, buddy.”

The cat – it was small, so it must be a kitten – took a hesitant step towards Barry’s outstretched hand. It looked scrappy and was soaking wet. It took another step, and then another, until Barry’s hand darted out to catch the kitten by the scruff of its neck.

Barry hauled it out, the kitten wailing pitifully, sitting upright after he wriggled back outside. The kitten scrabbled at the air with its little paws. “Go get a towel.”

“What am I, your bitch?” Rafe asked sarcastically.

“Uh, yeah. I thought we’ve been over that.” Rafe rolled his eyes while Barry held the kitten out towards him. “You wanna hold this thing instead?”

Obliging with a sigh, Rafe went back into the trailer and pulled out an old towel, returning to Barry who was talking to the kitten in a soothing voice.

“Why don’t you talk to me like that?” Rafe muttered, holding the towel out to Barry. The kitten squealed as Barry wrapped it up in the towel, vigorously drying it orange fur.

Barry spent the rest of the morning infatuated with the kitten. He took it inside, opening a can of tuna and putting it on a slightly damp paper plate. After some hesitation, the kitten took ravenous bites, before jumping up onto the couch, curling up, and falling asleep.

“Ridiculous,” Rafe muttered, sitting cross-legged at the coffee table, a fresh line in front of him while Barry gently ran his fingers over the kitten’s fur.

“What should we name it?” Barry asked, ignoring Rafe’s attitude.

“Well, is it a boy or a girl?” Rafe asked, and Barry just shrugged. “We keepin’ this thing?”

Barry scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You really are dumb, aren’t you?” he retorted, looking at Rafe. “He’s part of our little family now, whether you like it or not.”

Rafe was taken aback by Barry’s words. Our little family, he said. When he put it like that, Rafe knew he had to be on board with the kitten.

“Uh… Coors? Miller? Budweiser?”

“You’re shittin me, country club.”

“I don’t know!” Rafe protested. “I’ve never had a pet.”

“Nah? No purse dogs in the Cameron house?” Barry asked. Rafe stood with a grunt and went to sit beside Barry; the cat was taking up a whole cushion, so he crammed in next to his boyfriend, his body pressed against his. Barry snaked an arm around his waist. “What about… Socks?”

“You’re shitting me,” Rafe said, using Barry’s own words against him. “Socks?”

“Look, he’s got little white socks!” Barry exclaimed, pointing at the kitten’s four white feet.

It did fit, and when Rafe looked at Barry looking at the damn kitten with that much affection in his eyes, he couldn’t help but not smile.

Leaning to rest his chin on Barry’s shoulders, Rafe reached out to gently pet the kitten. It let out a small chirp and moved under his touch, stretching before curling into an even tighter ball.

Rafe murmured, close to Barry’s ear, his lips tickled by his hair. “Socks it is.”

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tagging barry’s baddies @starkey-babie @hartigays @pxisonoak @maybanksslut @seap1geon @bigdrewenergy

#please lmk if you wanna be on any taglists!!!!#rarry #rafebarry #rafebarry fanfic #rarry fanfic #barry obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx #outer banks #obx fanfic #obx fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fanfic

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katsukikitten · 3 years

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Part 10 of Irritated. Y'all thank Jo for this being updated lol.

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️ This is an 18+ Pro Hero AU, mentions of violence and death. Enjoy

The pungent smell of wet Earth and nose burning chemicals did not pair well with the harsh scent of rotting fruit. Sickeningly sweet as it rouses you, mind hazed as your eyelids refuse to open or even flutter. Weighted by lead and an endless sleep that tries to pull you under again. For once you submit.

More time passes, although you aren’t even sure you understand the concept any longer as that same smell stirs you again, a bang from an adjacent room pushes your eyes to flutter. Flashes of light against the start darkness before your eyes adjust to the low light of the room that seeps in from a few small rectangular windows. The panes are caked with dust while bricks are pressed into the seedy Earth, giving the room a natural coolness, there is only one set of stairs that lead up towards a door outlined in light. The sound of running water makes your throat constrict and your mouth dry, as if you swallowed cotton whole. Making you wonder just how long you had been pulled undertow. It takes your throbbing head a moment to catch up with your senses as a chill settles over your bare skin in goose flesh.

And then it all comes flooding back, the awful taste of his salty skin in your mouth, the fear gripping at your muscles as you finally realize that you are not in the safety of your apartment but somewhere forgein. Thrashing to get to your feet only to hit hard onto the icy concrete, wrists and ankles bound by white cuffs, a small whine escapes your raw throat. Your heart hammers in your chest before you feel a sharp prick in both of your wrists. A warm substance floods your system as your eyelids become heavy, mind trudging through abduction procedures before settling on blissful numb. A blurry figure comes from the only other door in the room that isn’t atop the staircase. You don’t need to fully focus on his face to know exactly what color his eyes are as they burn into your retinas before sleep hushes your frayed nerves. You dream of all consuming green that slowly fades to black.

Bakugou finds himself standing in the kitchen of his apartment, your spare key stares up at him from your paperwork. A sweating glass with melting ice and the reminisce of an amber liquid is his only company. He leers down at the address, wondering why the hell you were on such a seedy side of town, then he thinks of you shaking on the couch back at the hotel during the convention. His stomach churns, your final words and blow cause him to suck his teeth.

“Not my fucking problem.” He huffs to himself, refilling the glass before killing the light in the kitchen to settle on the couch. His grip is too tight on the crystal glass in his explosive palm, the glass threatens to shatter while an infomercial plays in the background. His mind is anywhere but the TV while indestructible pans are advertised across the large screen. Aggressively swirling the amber liquid as his thoughts become more and more loud. He swallows the whisky whole and with it the thought of you. Letting it all burn as it runs down his throat and heats his chest, a warm feeling flooding his veins as he sinks lower into the couch. Flipping channels as he forgets you.

Your key taped to your personal records, that Bakugou stole, do not sit on his fine counter much longer, soon it is swiped and shoved into a pocket. He slams the crystal glass on the counter as he reaches for his own apartment keys and his cellphone. Bakgou slams his apartment door, locking the deadbolt before he rushes down the stairs to catch the last train to you hellish part of the city.

The hour train ride sobers Bakugou and only sets him into further agitation. Glaring at anyone who thinks to look at him more than once, even going as far as baring his teeth. Before glaring at his own reflection, who sneers right back. His black tee is tight and a bit damp despite the cool air, the brim of his backwards cap pulls the hair away from his forehead as his faded sides breathe in the chill of the train. The hat, an excuse to hold in his hair, his hero gloves heating his hands as his fingers twitch, he hopes your apartment is hardwood throughout since he didn't have plastic bags to put his feet in while he looked for something. Anything. He was doing the best with what he had.

But the more he looks at himself the more he realizes he never really was doing his best. At least not when it came to you.

The address to your apartment complex is a few blocks away from the train station, his jaw clenched as he reaches the low lit building. Screaming comes from somewhere far off, his ears perk out of habit, but he was supposed to be off duty right now. Plus that wasn’t his current focus, not to mention should he help it would be suspicious as fuck as to why he was so far way from home tonight. He bounds up the stairs in the dank stairwell two at a time, huffing through his nose as he reaches the top floor. The carpet is worn threadbare and reeks of vomit and water damage. Silence envelopes the top floor compared to the yelling and crashing items on his way up. Slowly it dawns on him that you’re most likely renting out the entire fucking floor. He sucks his teeth, leaning in close to the door of the first apartment on the floor. Nothing comes from the other side of the thin cheap door, musty air flows from between the cracks as if the room had been closed for quite some time. It confirms what he’s been thinking. He finds your apartment door with ease, several bolts and locks lined up perfectly straight. He looks down at the one key and thinks about what happened in the short few years you started at the agency that you would need five, no six additional deadbolts on your door. He half wishes you hadn't made it so obvious as to which door was yours, thoughts creep into the forefront of his mind as he imagines someone else standing in his spot now. He thinks he will need a locksmith, but that would call attention to himself, he could attempt to pick them but he never really had time to practice the shady skill. Just as he is about to turn to brute force as the answer he notices that your door doesn't seem fully shut. He thinks of all the times that you bitched while on patrol about your damn door and how you had to literally slam it shut for it to actually lock. Gritting his teeth he gently pushes the door open with his gloved hand letting it swing open with an eerie creak.

Already things are out of place. Your suitcase stands alone, untouched and obviously unpacked from the clothes peeking out from beneath the zipper, by the front door. Your lanyard for your keys is on the floor instead of the table that is in the foyer and the converse you were wearing the day that you quit are missing. Faintly something gleems in the grainy light from the hallway from beneath the table in the foyer. Bakugou reaches for it tentatively, teeth gritting as he realizes what the glass rectangle is.

Your phone.

Specifically, your dead phone.

His hand hover over the unresponsive screen before deciding to leave it, this would be evidence they would need later but for now he knew he had to do something. Kamisama takes pity on the poor bastard and throws him a bone in the shape of a scrunchie. Your black scrunchie that seems to have been ripped from your arm. As he reaches for it he notices the faint residue smeared on the hardwood. His mind dredges up weeks ago of the guy trying to hide his quirk. Of the carpet by the hotel door in the hall just a touch darker.

He should have fucking killed him, he should not have listened to you. He snatches the scrunchie, heading towards your kitchen to look for a bag, tupperware, anything to trap the smell of you and possibly your assailant. He finds a plastic sandwich bag, shoving the broken hair tie into the baggie before sealing it shut. He heads for your door thinking better of slamming it shut in case he needs to return without the calvary. Pulling his phone from his pocket he dials an old number from memory, the other line picks up.

"Oi, it's time I cashed in on that favor you owe me."

After the short conversation and the long hour and a half in the cold a four door sudan pulls up to the train station by your house. Bakugou eagerly yanks open passenger side door, slamming it shut as he cranks of the heat in the car, giving the driver no room for questions let alone a greeting.

"Oi, I need you to find the owner of this." He flashes the scrunchie as the driver gives him a look, "Inu, you're hound's son aren't you? It's not impossible."

"It might as well be dude. What is this?" Inu snatches the bag from hot fingers, "Do you even know when the last time the owner wore this. And what exactly are we doing? Is this even fucking official?"

Bakugou narrows his eyes, mouth set in a harsh snarl as he leans in close to the driver's seat while Inu leans back.

"I dunno was your shit I helped you with official? Was it ethical for us to take out a mob boss for your now ex wife?"

Inu looks away into the rear view mirror, eyes boring holes into the glass and the blankets in the back seat. Bakugou doesn't notice, he takes it as admission before leaning away into the passenger seat.

"Now get to sniffing." Inu grits his teeth at the hot head's comments before sighing out. Opening the bag just a little to take a whiff. The smell was faint, indicating a large gap from the time it was last worn to now. Not to mention there was an odd smell, so unbelievably faint in the fabric that had Inu not already known what you smelt like he would have missed it. Just barely he could make out past the notes of your shampoo a salty harsh smell, almost like a preservative. Had it been any stronger it would have burned his nostrils. Sweat and...was that formaldehyde?

His stomach churns, slowly closing the baggie before cracking his window, catching the wind just right. He follows his nose, head halfway out the window as the car carries the men late into the night, all the way to the fringes of a suburb that was partly in the country. Inu parks the car on the wide street of the little neighborhood built to mimic an American suburb in the nineties. Homes of various sizes spread out and yet not too far from one another.

"This is it." Inu announces, throwing the car in park as it sits nestled between a beat to hell pick up truck and a dented sudan.

"You're sure?" Bakugou asks as he takes in the old home, it's upkeep is minimal at best, landscaping border line over grown as he can barely make out the small rectangular windows at the base of the house beneath the old dim street lamp.

"This is where both smells get stronger."

"Both?" A tic wounds tighter in Bakugou's jaw while a tremor runs through his arms. Inu nods as Bakugou reaches for the knob.

"Woah, woah!" Inu's large hand clamps down onto a broad shoulder, "Hold up man, if she really is involved then this is nothing like the sting we did bro. We need to call someone."

"Like fucking who?"

"I dunno Director Yami?"

"Yea so he can dismiss this again? Fuck that and fuck you. I'm going." He shoves Inu away reaching for the door again before the blankets in the back seat come to life. A mop of emerald curls with concern plastered across the giant's face appears to Bakugou's horror.

"Kaachan...you can't. We need to do this right, for her." And with that Bakugou snaps, lunging for his old friend, enemy. Climbing past the center console with his hands outstretched before they wrap around a thick column squeezing with all of his might. Deku doesn't do much to stop him, somehow knowing deep down that it isn't really him that the red eyed man wants to kill. He wraps broad hands around thick forearms giving them a gentle squeeze, he could snap them with One for All if he wanted. Instead Inu barks out a breathy "What the fuck?" as he wraps his arms around Bakugou's torso pulling him back into the passenger's seat. In the tussle either Bakugou or Inu hit the horn, causing Inu to panic as a light comes to life in the once darkened house. He forcefully shoves Bakugou into the front seat as he peels into the street, thankfully without burning rubber.

"Are you trying to blow our fucking cover?!" Inu shouts, "Like fuck! And what's killing Izuku-kun going to do?"

Bakugou turns to glare at the behemoth of a man in the back seat, he rubs his throat as red eyes watch bruises form.

"I'm not sorry Deku, fuck you." But Izuku can read between the lines, Bakugou saying he is sorry but still fuck you for trying to stop me while our friend is most likely on borrowed time.

"'S kay. We can help her."

A honk, rouses you before footsteps can be heard overhead rushing through the house before blinding light floods down into the basement.

"Finally you're awake." He flicks on all the lights, scrambling to put your feet under you so you can at least sit. Eyes flickering over the room as you try to give your throbbing, unresponsive mind to collect something, anything you can store away for later to aid your escape. Meanwhile the green eyed fucker monologues.

"It took some time for me to adjust your dose, I need you to be just under enough that you won't fight back, your heart rate spikes easily you know…." His words are lost to you as you glance over your shoulder only to wish you never did as your stomach churns in horror. Lined up against the wall behind you are women, women you had posed with.

But what haunts you is how it starts with your missing friend. Her eyes hollowed out, pitch black holes stare back at you as her skin looks paper thin, like a botched mummification or that whoever was trying to preserve her got lucky. She is still in her last scene clothes that are bloodied and torn. Your eyes struggling to follow the line as they progressively become more and more preserved, until your eyes finally land on your last instagram picture, you and that young girl. With the peace signs beneath your eyes.

She looks to still be alive, until you realize she is unblinking with glass eyes and a permanent smile with the help of a stich or two.

He notices your rigidness and frowns.

"Are you not happy? It's hard to save the eyes." He forces your face to meet him with his fingers on your skin, "I made them for you. They're your friends right? I wouldn't want my doll to be lonely."

Your breath comes in ragged huffs as rage consumes you, you were going to kill him. With whatever little power you had left, you were going to end him and savor it.

All these lives, twenty, that you could see, lost, because of you and you negligence. Your eyes glow before a prick comes at your wrist, the power dying in your fingers.

"No." You rasp out as your vision begins to fade.

"Ah come on, I just want you to be a wake for just a bit doll. Just a while longer before I make you mine."

Your world plunges into the depths of darkness.

Your dream of the girls behind you, of their scream as their preserved bodies animate, their glass eyes fixated on you as they crawl across the concrete. Their mouths smelling of formatihide and rot as they lean close to you, voices beneath water or worn by gravel.

"You did this. You killed us."

#bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha au #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bnha imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou angst #bnha horror #tw death #tw trauma

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thatshiscigar · 4 years

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Trapped - Chapter One

JJ Maybank x Reader

Chapter Two

Warnings: underaged drinking, physical fighting, slight angst, pining

Word Count: 2k

A/N: there could be a possible part two to this. let me know if y’all want it!

masterlist

The sunshine pouring in through your window was what woke you, along with JJ stirring next to you. He readjusted for a moment, then closed his eyes again, chasing whatever dream he was having. You turned your head to see him, his hair all messed up, his mouth slightly agape. There were brusies littering his body and face, some leftover from a few days ago from his old man, and newer ones left by Rafe. He never looked more peaceful than when he was sleeping. You took your time to take in all his features, even though you see the boy every day. The cuts and bruises left on his cheeks were enough to make you tear up, and make the events from the night before come calling back, along with a pounding headache.

It was just another Boneyard Party, nothing special about it. John B and Pope were joking about something, laughing up a storm, you and Kie were sitting on a log, talking and gossiping with some other southside girls, and JJ was flirting and drinking with some touron he hoped he would bag for the night. Nothing was out of place. Everything was as it should be, until the Kooks showed up.

This happened almost every Boneyard party, even though the Pogues warn the Kooks everytime to not come back. The rules just don’t apply to them.

Rafe and his minions made their way to the keg, just as JJ was going to get a refill. JJ watched Rafe fill his cup, as if he was stalking his prey. Rafe knew he was unwanted there, but stood his ground anyway.

“I promise a picture will last longer, Pogue.”

“What are you doing here,” JJ asked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Relax, we’re just here to have some fun, same as the rest of you.” Rafe’s tone was condescending, but JJ knew there was some truth to it. JJ decided that tonight wasn’t the night to start anything. Nothing was on the table yet. He still kept his feet planted, not wanted to let Rafe out of his sight.

Rafe’s gaze shifted from his cup to the crowd, searching for potential hook ups. The roaring fire on the other side of the party caught his attention, and with that, so did you.

“And I think I just found my fun for the night.” Rafe pointed you out to his boys, causing them to hoop and holler for a moment. JJ saw who Rafe was pointing to, and was caught off guard when he saw it was you.

Not that anyone knew, but JJ had been crushing on you for a while. It was the way you smiled at the stupid shit he did, they way you told him off when it got out of hand. He loves how resistant and resilient you were, how you could let no one get in your way. He was in love with you. But he could never let you know. The fear of rejection swallowed him up til he couldn’t breathe, so he wasted his time on tourists, people he would never have to see again if things went badly. People that weren’t you.

“Hey, she’s off limits bro,” JJ said, his eyes cold and steady on Rafe.

“Well I don’t see anyone else on her, do you?” Rafe made his way over to JJ, swinging his arm over his shoulders. JJ tried to wiggle out of Rafe’s grip, but found no point. Rafe pointed to you again.

“Just look at her man, she’s just waiting for someone to pick her up.”

“Stop, Rafe.” JJ was trying so hard to keep his cool, but without you around to keep him calm, it was growing near impossible.

“Ohh I bet she would just love to go home with one of us huh? Just imagine the body under those clothes, boys.” JJ ripped himself out of Rafe’s grip, and lunged at him. JJ tackled Rafe to the ground, straddling him and beating his face. The commotion and the gasps of on-lookers caught yours and Kiara’s attention. If there was a fight, you knew JJ was involved. When you ran up to the scene, you weren’t surprised to see the blond you know and love.

JJ was still on top, but his energy was fading fast. Rafe took the opportunity to flip them over, now leaving JJ at his mercy. The punches being thrown were animalistic. Blood was splattered over both of their faces, and there was no sign of either of them slowing down. Screams and hollors from the crowd overpowered you and Kie’s cries for them to stop, but out of the corner of his eye, JJ spotted you. The look on your face, the terrified, desperate look, was enough to hit JJ with another round of adrenaline. He grabbed Rafe, tore his body off of his, and slammed him onto the sand. Nothing could have stopped JJ from beating the shit out of Rafe. Not even your screams. How could Rafe say those things? How could he say those things about you? The girl JJ would do anything for. The girl JJ wishes was his.

It wasn’t till John B and Pope pulled JJ off that the fighting ceased. When they tore him off, you could finally see the damage done to both boys. JJ looked terrible, and Rafe as well. Even though the boys were yelling at JJ to stop, that it wasn’t worth it, he wasn’t done. He stomped back to Rafe, still lying in the sand. He bend down to get in his face.

“Never talk that way about her again, you hear me? Don’t even look at her. You know what? Don’t even think about her.” JJ was face to face once more with Rafe. He grabbed onto a ball of his shirt, lifting Rafe slightly off the ground.

“Stay the fuck off The Cut.”

As a parting gift, JJ spat in Rafe’s face. It startled JJ a little bit when it came out red, but he kept his composure. He let go of Rafe’s shirt, knocking the wind out of him. JJ strutted back to the group, proud of his handywork. The gazes of bystanders only fueled him more.

“Let’s go,” he spoke lowly to the rest of you. You all hopped in the van and drove back to The Chateau. The ride was silent, save for a few groans and sniffles.

When you got back, you helped JJ clean up. You finally got a good look at the damage done to his beautiful face, and it tore you up inside. You hated seeing him hurt. It made you feel like you couldn’t protect him.

“Hey, JJ?” you spoke softly, as if not to hurt the boy anymore. You felt like you were doing enough damage with the rubbing alcohol.

“Hmm?” His eyes were closed. He just wanted to focus on something other than the pain.

“What was the fight about?”

JJ’s eyes shot open. The sudden move caught your attention, and made you chuckle a bit.

“What?” you giggled out. He cleared his throat, trying to play it off.

“Doesn’t matter.” You looked at him like he was crazy, which he was.

“It doesn’t matter? Well why get in a fight about it if it doesn’t matter, then?” JJ looked down, ashamed to meet your gaze. He hopped off the counter, and shuffled out of the small room.

“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled one more time before he left for his spare room. You were left in the bathroom, dumbfounded by his stubbornness. You cleaned up, got a water bottle from the fridge, and headed outside to meet the rest of your friends. John B was the first to notice you.

“What’s up with him?” He queried.

“He wouldn’t tell me,” you said as you sat down.

“I’ve seen JJ get in some gnarly fights, but I’ve never seen that before,” Pope said. You all nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, nothing like that before.” Kie offered you a comforting smile.

You couldn’t get the image out of your head. The blood and sand all over him, the bruises littering his frame. It made you shiver.

After a while of sitting around the fire, not much spoken, you all decided that it was time to go in. Pope put out the fire, and you watched the smoke flare up. There was always something so satisfying about it, and you would take anything to give you a little peace right about now.

You were getting ready to go home, but this feeling kept nagging you. You couldn’t leave without checking on JJ. As quietly as you could, you opened the door to his room, and cringed when the door squeaked.

“Y/N?” JJ asked as he turned his head toward the sound.

“Yeah, It’s me, I just came to check on you, but I’ll go,” you rushed out the last part, not wanting to give yourself the chance to embarrass yourself.

“No, it’s okay,” JJ reassured. You relaxed at his words.

“Oh, okay,” you quietly said, you stood in the doorway awkwardly for a moment before JJ spoke up.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you stay with me?”

Your eyes widened at his words.

“Um, y-yeah, sure,” you stuttered. You gave him a smile as you sat down on his bed, your legs still hanging over the side.

“No, I mean, like, for the night, Y/N.” He chuckled at your sudden shyness.

“Oh, yeah.” Your voice was a little shaky. JJ lifted the covers for you, welcoming you into the bed. Once you got settled in, your felt your nerves fading away. You laid on your side, facing him.

JJ felt like home. His presence made all your worries vanish, leaving you with nothing but a soft fondness. He made you feel as if you were laying on a cloud, with nothing but ocean below. Nothing but the waves to catch you if you fell. Nothing but home.

He moved from laying on his back to his side, and put his hand out in front of him, like he was waiting for something to be put in it. You looked at him questioningly.

“C’mon,” he whispered. You got the hint, and placed your hand in his. He looked deeply in your eyes, and you thought, this is it. This is the moment it all changes. This is the moment he finally tells me. He loves me.

“Look... I’m sorry for acting like a jackass earlier. I shouldn’t have stormed out like that. Especially when you were trying to take care of me. I’m sorry.” He couldn’t meet your eyes. But what JJ said in the bathroom was the truth. The fight didn’t matter. JJ’s feelings towards you didn’t matter. There was no way someone as beautiful as you, someone as kind as you, could ever love him. He knew not to believe the fantasies in his head could come true one day. Like the ones where you two growing up together, leaving the Outer Banks, starting a family. He couldn’t let himself fall into those traps. He was smarter than that.

You brought your hand up to stroke his cheek, being extra careful.

“Hey, it’s okay, I shouldn’t have pressed. I’m sorry.” At the reassurance, JJ looked up at you. You gave him a smile, a smile that said, “It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere”.

JJ was too smart to fall for this trap. He offered a smile back, before tugging his hand away. He flipped over, now laying on his other side, leaving you hurt and confused. You thought this was going somewhere, wasn’t it? You weren’t making it up, right? You couldn’t believe you let yourself fall for it. Fall for his meaningless flirts, his empty words.

“Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, JJ.”

All you wanted to do was grab his shoulders, flip him over, and kiss him. But you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t. Keeping everything bottled up seemed like the best option, it was the only option. You couldn’t destroy what little thing you had with him. It would kill you, so you would let this little crush eat you alive. It was obvious that JJ didn’t like you back, so why even bother with the unnecessary feelings. They just got in the way. They trapped you from having fun, and getting with anyone else. You would just have to accept it. Not everyone can have their fairytale ending.

Chapter Two

#jj maybank #jj imagine #jj maybank imagine #jj obx #jj outer banks #jj maybank obx #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #outer banks #obx #obx netflix #outer banks netflix #obx imagine #outerbanks imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #outer banks imagine

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thoughtsonhurtandcomfort · 3 years

Text

Inspired by this post by @whump-princess all about tail whump~ Specifically “getting it caught or slamming it in a door”.

Featuring my demon/incubus OC Arinn. He has tiny horns and a thin, smooth “devil tail” sort of tail. He can magically hide them to blend in but doesn’t need to at home with Alex. He is “fed”/energized by physical affection (this story makes 0 sense without that info).

Tagging @deluxewhump ? This isn’t that sort of Arinn story but I did promise to tag you. :)

CW: tail whump, tail injury, broken bones, bruising, swearing, comfort, affection, romantic relationship, touching, kissing, a few light innuendos but nothing overtly sexual.

----

The cozy Saturday afternoon silence in the apartment is interrupted by the slam of the door... followed by an agonized scream from the doorway. There’s a thud and a string of curses in at least four languages.

Startled, Alex sets down his phone on the kitchen counter and hurries into the living room.

“Ari?”

Sure enough, his demon boyfriend Arinn is standing there, looking...not great. His face is flushed and pinched with pain, his fists clenched tight, white-knuckled. Bags of groceries lie at either side of his feet, their contents spilling out onto the floor. Alex couldn’t care less about them. He steps closer.

“Ari, what’s wrong? Hey, breathe...”

Ari releases a shaky breath. He takes a few more deep breaths before answering, his voice weak, tugging at Alex’s heart.

“M-my tail...”

Alex hurries to his side and looks around him.

“Oh, fuck...fuck, fuck, fuck...”

Ari’s slender tail, connected at his lower back, droops down and disappears into where the door meets the door frame. Trapped there. Undoubtedly crushed. Undoubtedly hurting.

“Oh, fuck, babe...”

“Quit saying fuck and get it out!” Arinn snaps. He immediately covers his reddened face with a hitched sound. “Sorry...sorry - I...it h-hurts.”

“I know...I know, babe.” A kiss is pressed to the side of Arinn’s head, reassurance that Alex isn’t angry. He crouches by the door.

“...wind blew it shut,” Arinn mumbles sullenly, lowering his hands. He tries in vain to hide a sniffle. Alex hears it, but spares his lover the further humiliation of pointing it out. He’s so good like that...he knows what Arinn needs, when he needs it.

Right now he just needs his tail out of the fucking door.

“Alright...here goes...”

Alex cups one hand under Arinn’s tail so it doesn’t fall. With his other hand he slowly twists the doorknob and eases the door open.

Arinn whines softly as his tail slips free into Alex’s gentle grip. He sways on his feet, groaning deeply at the rush of pain. “O-oh...”

“Easy...easy, I’ve got you.” Alex stands, still carefully holding Arinn’s tail so it doesn’t droop to the ground. He puts his other arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Couch or bed?”

“Bed, please.” Arinn turns away, flushed with pain and embarrassment and unwilling to look at the damage to his poor tail.

His tail has always been a conflicting part of himself. A thing, like his horns, that separated him from humans. Emotive, curling when he’s happy and flicking when he’s angry and tucking between his legs when he’s frightened. Fragile and vulnerable, an easy target for those who would hurt him, something to be grabbed and yanked and stomped on.

But also...

Also soft and sensitive. So attuned to gentle touch, like when Alex strokes and kisses it as lovingly as the rest of him. Tingling at the feeling of warm fingers, sending ripples of pleasure up his spine...

Now the only things traveling up his spine are tremors with every painful throb of his injured tail. Try as he might, he can’t hold back the little pained sounds the feeling elicits as Alex guides him to the bedroom.

“Alright...on your stomach...”

It’s the sort of obvious statement Arinn would normally give a sarcastic retort, and it’s a testament to the pain he’s in that he doesn’t say a word as he crawls onto the mattress and flops face first into the pillow with a groan.

He feels Alex gently settle his tail down beside him. There’s a brief loss of contact that sends a chill across Arinn’s skin. Don’t leave me. He knows Alex won’t, but nonetheless his mind can’t help imagining being left to suffer.

A big warm hand cups the back of his neck, a thumb stroking at his pulse. “I’m going to get some things...” A pause, the hand not moving. “Arinn...can you say something? I’m worried...”

That makes Arinn huff out a laugh in spite of himself. Of course Alex is worried because he isn’t running his mouth for once.

“...your hand feels good,” he mumbles into the pillow. The comforting weight of it increases ever so slightly, the touch grounding him.

“Once you’re fixed up I’ll put my hands wherever you want,” Alex teases.

Arinn groans. “None of that. Not for a while,” he says miserably.

“I know. And it’s okay.” Alex kisses the top of his head and then disappears into the bathroom to dig through their medicine cabinet.

He returns with what must be half of its contents and spills them onto the other half of the bed. “I’m not really sure how to treat a tail,” he admits. “And I’m pretty sure you don’t want to go to a doctor.”

“Hell no,” Arinn says, turning his face to rest his cheek on the pillow so that he can look at Alex. When Alex sees his red-rimmed eyes his face softens. On anyone else it would be pity and Arinn would scoff at it, but from his Alex he knows it’s only that he feels everything so strongly, including his lover’s pain.

“It will heal on its own,” Arinn reassures him, and it’s true. He heals quicker than humans do, at least, when he has enough energy. And Alex’s constant affection is a more than sufficient energy source. “Just...something to keep it from moving until then. And something f-for the pain -” he draws in a sharp gasp as said pain hits him again.

“Yeah,” Alex says quickly. “Yeah, of course. Okay...”

He gently lifts the limp little tail and cradles it gently in his hands. Arinn closes his eyes and breathes, trusting him completely.

Alex makes a little sound of sympathy, his fingers moving almost imperceptibly over the bruised flesh. For someone who could probably bench press Arinn if he wanted to, he’s always so gentle with him. “It’s definitely broken.”

“Thought so...there was a - a crunch.” He feels Alex flinch at the words. Lips brush softly over the tender skin of his tail and he sighs.

After that, Alex works silently. He smooths some sort of balm onto the damaged tail for the bruising. He uses a ruler and bandages to fashion a splint for it, something Arinn will hate wearing every moment until it’s gone, but knows it’s necessary. Alex even gets a bag of frozen peas from the kitchen and lets the tail rest on it to ease the swelling.

Finally he begins to pop open a bottle of pain medicine, when Arinn stops him.

“Those won’t help.”

“No?”

“No. Demon, remember?”

Alex frowns, crestfallen, and sets the bottle aside. “What will help?”

“You.”

His head snaps up and Arinn meets his searching gaze. The love there is...intoxicating. Just the anticipation of Alex’s comfort makes him feel a little bit stronger.

He starts to climb into the bed and is stopped again. “Mm-mm. Shirt.”

Understanding crosses Alex’s face and in seconds his shirt is gone, revealing broad shoulders and a strong body with just enough softness to be wonderfully comfortable.

“Yours too?”

Arinn nods and doesn’t budge, letting Alex ease his shirt up over his head and toss it aside.

Alex pulls up the covers and slips under them beside him. Arinn carefully turns onto his side, managing not to jostle his tail, Alex’s hand on his hip to guide him.

“You do the rest,” he mumbles, feeling drowsy now that the shock and pain from earlier has dulled.

Alex obliges. He moves close, warm arms curling around Arinn’s body. Arinn rests his forehead against Alex’s neck and feels like he can really breathe for the first time all day.

There are no more words between them. None are necessary. Alex speaks his love in soothing strokes of hands down his back, kisses peppered over his hair, his legs tangling with Arinn’s. Solid and steady. Exactly what Arinn needs.

His affections are like a glass of water to a parched throat, sending a familiar warm energy coursing through Arinn’s veins. With Alex around he never has to hunger or thirst or want. He has everything he needs and more.

By the morning his tail will already be halfway healed, and Alex will dote on him and bring him food and kiss his horns and make him laugh. He’ll love him so hard, love his pain away, love his tail better, love his body stronger. And Arinn will love him back just as fiercely.

~The End~

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tellmealovestory · 4 years

Text

That Summer (1/?)

Summary: You’ve spent every summer since you were a child in the idyllic beach town you call home three months out of the year. This summer should be no different except for the addition of Bucky Barnes. Sparks fly upon first meeting, but it’s only a summer fling, right? Modern AU.

Notes: Also posted on my ao3. The beautiful divider I used is from @whimsicalrogers

Warnings: Surprisingly no swear words and a very brief mention of sexy times.

Mosquitos battled with the scratchy blanket beneath your body in a fight over who could do more damage to your sensitive skin. So far it was a tie. Music drifted out of your car speakers, a bouncy pop song, something meant for being blared at top decibels in a darkened club, sweaty bodies moving together, colorful drinks filled to the brim of expensive glasses. Not something for laying in a field an hour outside of the city stargazing.

It was a warm night, a promise of what was to come as summer began its lazy descent. Summer. Just the word always conjured long days, lazy nights, uniforms of shorts and tank tops, bare feet. Frozen slushees from the local convenience store staining lips and teeth and tongues blues and reds and purples, bags of potato chips and handfuls of candy bars. Windows rolled down, music turned all the way up, singing off key to lyrics that seemed as if they were written for you and only you as you drove aimlessly through the city before venturing onto the back roads that would take you far from the bright lights and the familiarity of your life to somewhere else.

The crinkle of a candy wrapper being balled up, the obnoxious slurp of a straw searching for the last remnants of a cherry slushee mixed with vodka had your teeth grinding in annoyance at your sometimes friend sprawled out next to you on the blanket.

“This is your last night here and this is how you choose to spend it?”

You didn’t have to take your eyes off of the stars shining and twinkling above you, winking like they held secrets, like they knew what the future, more specifically what this summer would hold for you to know she was rolling her eyes at you.

And while you tried to tell yourself you didn’t care her tone still stung.

“You didn’t have to come,” you pointed out, leaving out the part about how she only came because her sometimes boyfriend ditched her again. “And it’s not like I’m not coming back. It’s only for the summer, remember?”

“Whatever. Have fun with your summer friends,” she sneered, tone icy, piercing straight through the warmth in your chest.

It was harder this time to hide the physical way her words stung. Flinching you inched away from her on the blanket. You weren’t a mean person, but you still thought about getting in your car and abandoning her here.

Ignoring her huffed sighs, the slurp of the straw, the way she boldly reached across you grabbing your plastic cup still half full with the blue raspberry slushee you kept your gaze focused on the sky above you.

A bright streak danced across the sky, so quick if you had blinked one second sooner, if you had turned your head away from the sky you would have missed it. Your heart sped up at the sight, awe and doubt mixing in your mind. Blindly grabbing for your friends arm you excitedly pointed at the sky, blabbering about the shooting star.

Obsessed since you had learned about them in school books had been consumed, online articles inhaled, paintings painted, stories written, but you had never expected to see one.

In the blink of an eye it was gone and you were left wondering if you had seen its beauty at all.

Closing your eyes you inhaled damp grass, the alcohol infused breath of your sometimes friend, the sugary sweet slushees, the salty potato chips that swirled around you and made a wish on the brightly burning shooting star that had streaked across the sky for that one glorious brief moment.

I wish to fall in love this summer.

“You’re not mad are you?”

Your eyes were glued to the scenery that shot past your windows. The large mansions that sat dotted on the beach before giving way to gift shops and tourists traps. The ocean that glittered and shined when the bright sun hit it. The sand that had you itching to beg Wanda to pull the car over so you could run through the burning heat before dipping your feet into the still cold ocean water. Tires hummed on the road, salty ocean air inhaled, wind rustling against your hair and ruffling your shirt.

After stepping off the plane, smile on your face, sweat soaking through your shirt at the heat that hit you as soon as you had stepped out of the air conditioned terminal you had run straight into your best friends arms squealing like preteen girls at a boy band concert.

The conversation had flowed easily with her pointing out the new shops, restaurants, the gossip you had missed out on when you had left at the end of last summer. It wasn’t until the conversation had drifted to the evenings plans that it began to stall.

Your first night back had always been a girls night with take out food, homemade desserts you had brought with you, bottles of soda when you were younger that turned into shared bottles of wine, trashy television shows as you caught up with each other’s lives in person instead of over texts and skype.

This year however plans had changed.

“I’m not mad.” It was hard to be mad when you would be spending the next three months in paradise, but you were disappointed.

You had always looked forward to the first night together to unwind, to catch up, but now you were going to be spending it with their friends feeling like the awkward out of towner struggling to keep up with their inside jokes, their familiar banter.

Tearing your gaze away from the scenery you turned your attention to Wanda offering her a small smile. It was only one night.

“It’ll be fun!” Wanda chirped.

Showered, fresh faced, damp haired, bags piled high on your bed in Wanda’s spare room a quick girls night had commenced with Natasha. Gossiping over chips and dip the three of you had made plans for the summer before piling into the car heading to the party.

Christmas lights were strung throughout the house and on the back porch leading the place to have a whimsical feel. When they had told you a party you had been expecting wall to wall people, red solo cups, couples making out, drunk people stumbling and laughing.

What greeted you instead were motorcycles parked in the driveway, along the tree lined streets. Loud music spilled from the peach two story house. A few people stood outside, bottles of beer held between fingers, thumbs furiously scrolling through phones, leather jackets adorning shoulders despite the oppressive heat.

Everybody seemed to know who Natasha and Wanda were. It was impossible to take two steps without someone coming up to say hey. Introductions were made, but the more people you met the more the names and faces blurred together.

Ending up in the kitchen leaning against the counter, a bottle of warm beer pressed into your hand your eyes swept over the small crowd that clustered around the keg. More leather jackets placed on shoulders, animated conversations swirling around you, cigarette tips burning bright orange, smoke exhaled leading the kitchen to be filled with a hazy fog that made your head ache with fatigue.

Weight shifting from foot to foot, beer bottle sweating with condensation in your hand, strangers nodding in your direction in lieu of hellos. You were used to standing on the sidelines, watching everything and everybody with a keen eye, but it didn’t make it any less lonely.

Pushing through the scattered bodies of the kitchen you slid open the patio door inhaling the pine trees that surrounded the back yard, the salty ocean air that could be faintly smelled in the distance. The night air was muggy, the sky dark, the stars twinkling and as you stumbled to the railing you closed your eyes willing the fresh air and the stars to ease your loneliness.

“Careful there.”

Your body froze at the husky voice that dared to break your peaceful solitude. Shoulders tensed you exhaled, slowly opening your eyes to see a tall man, dark hair pulled into a man bun, cigarette dangling from kissable lips. He was beautiful standing there in the glow of the Christmas lights that were strung along the railing.

Convinced he was talking to someone else you turned your head, gaze inspecting the patio, the yard, but it was just you and the dark haired stranger.

A long drag off the cigarette, a quirk of an eyebrow and he was speaking again, voice low and gravelly. “You good?”

“Uh yup, yeah, great, thanks,” you rambled, loosening your hold on the railing. Worried that he’d think you were drunk you whirled around to face him, watching the way his beefy body leaned against the porch railing a few feet away from you. Caring what people thought about you, trying too hard to make everyone happy around you were were faults you had yet to overcome. It didn’t matter that you didn’t know him you still found yourself, to your horror, blurting out, “I’m not drunk!”

Exhaling a stream of smoke he stubbed out his cigarette. “Never thought you were.” His lips tilted upwards, a ghost of a smile on his face, a wisp of hair falling from his bun and framing his face.

“Right,” you said slowly. Shifting your weight from foot to foot you cleared your throat determined to start over on a better note. “I just... my friends left me alone for a couple minutes and I guess I sort of panicked and needed some fresh air and I didn’t know you were out here and... you’re laughing.”

It was rich, the kind of laugh a person could fall in love with. Throaty and hoarse like he had used his voice up on talking all day though you suspected it had more to do with the cigarettes. So far he appeared to be a man of few words.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

The only thing better than his laugh was the way he stepped closer, the floorboards of the porch creaking beneath his clunky black boots as he closed the gap of space between your bodies.

Up close he was even more striking. Sculpted jaw, cheeks painted the lightest shade of pink that reminded you of spring roses, eyes so bright they rivaled the color of the ocean. Tight black tee shirt that you hinted at the built body beneath it, black leather jacket that matched the other ones inside of the house. Blue jeans that you somehow knew hid a perfect ass.

It was impossible to take your eyes off of him, but the feeling appeared mutual as his eyes lingered on your hair, your makeup free face, the thin strapped summer dress you had thrown on with a pair of sandals.

Had it been any other man standing before you, stare lingering you would have felt self-conscious, would have crossed your arms over your chest and cleared your throat before politely making an excuse and scurrying away.

It was reckless and dangerous. You didn’t know him, but instead of being put off by his staring you felt strangely... okay with it. You didn’t know him, had never seen him during any of your previous summer visits, but there was something familiar about him tugging at your heartstrings as if you already knew him, as if you guys had known each other your whole lives. It was a feeling you had never experienced before. You didn’t even know his name, but you couldn’t help feeling that this man was somehow going to be important to you.

Maybe it was jet lag, too much cigarette smoke, thrown off your usual first day rituals, but being in his presence made you feel alive, made you feel like you could truly be yourself. You didn’t have to be the perky, can fix anything, people pleaser that made you a such a good fit working at your moms wedding planner company. And you didn’t have to be the awkward fly on the wall third or fifth wheel when out with your friends. You felt like you could be yourself, whoever that was and it was freeing.

Inhaling the muggy night air you met his gaze. It was electric, inviting and you found yourself wanting to plop down on a lawn chair and spill to him all your secrets.

“Can we start over? I’m Y/N.”

“Bucky.”

Cheers erupted from inside the kitchen, but neither of you turned to look. In a matter of minutes the party was forgotten and you were fine with that.

“You new in town?”

“It’s that obvious?”

There it was, that smirk again, gentle lift of his shoulder in a shrug, another piece of hair escaping his man bun. In a way you supposed it was obvious. It seemed as if everyone at the party were wearing leather jackets with the words Howling Commandos stitched on the back and everyone had known who Natasha and Wanda were.

“Small town,” he said. “I know most of the people here, but you I don’t know.”

“Not true. I introduced myself before,” you quipped, feeling a sense of pride when he let out another throaty laugh. “Are you the welcoming committee in town? Cause if you are I gotta say you’re not doing too good of a job hiding out here.”

His laughter filled the porch and in that instant you knew you’d do anything to hear it again and again. It was so warm like feeling the sun on your bare skin the first time after the end of a long winter.

“Maybe I was monitoring the situation out here. Gotta make sure no one comes barreling out and runs into the railing. Don’t want anyone getting hurt on my watch.” His eyes drank you in slowly, a smile cracking through his smirk waiting to see your reaction.

Biting back a laugh you shook your head at the banter feeling both out of your element, but somehow so at ease. “I’d say you need a little more work.”

“You do, huh? I dunno I thought my methods worked. Got you to stop didn’t it?”

“Total fluke.”

“You sure about that, Y/N?”

The way he said your name had your heart beating straight out of your chest. He said it slowly, letting it roll across his tongue, confidently as if he was used to chatting up girls, making them feel special for a night or two. His hand moved to the railing, his pinky finger nudging yours. It was a light touch, barely a touch at that, but the electric sparks it was emitting had you itching to grab him by the collar of his leather jacket and kiss him.

Consumed by the way his barely there touch had you feeling you didn’t notice at first the way he had stepped closer, close enough that you could smell the smoke from his earlier cigarette, the beer that he must have been drinking mixed with something woodsier. Your favorite scent had always been coconut, but now... now it was whatever was wafting off of him.

“So you know why I was out here, but why are you out here?” You asked softly, not wanting to speak too loudly and break the spell. Your gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips and back. His gaze followed suit.

“Told you why I was out here,” he murmured, voice just as low, fingers ghosting over your hand, circling your wrist.

Your eyes darted down to watch the way his long fingers danced over your bracelet. Resisting the urge to close your eyes at the relaxing touches you flinched when the patio door slid open, loud music spilling out, louder voices shouting in the distance, a drunken couple stumbling out the doors, lips attached, hands roaming.

“That’s why I’m out here,” he grumbled.

His words could have been referring to anything, but when his head turned to stare disdainfully at the couple tearing each other’s clothes off oblivious to their surroundings you murmured an ah understanding.

“Should we...?” You asked, words trailing off when the woman let out an embarrassingly loud moan that rivaled that of a pornstars.

“C’mon.” His large fingers circled your wrist giving it a gentle tug.

You didn’t know him, but that didn’t stop you from following his lead as he led you down the patio steps and around the house to the front yard. The grass was cool when it rubbed against your ankles, laughter and bottles mixing and clinking together could be heard drifting from the open windows. The moon was only a crescent, but it somehow seemed to shine brighter out here than it did back home.

The front of the house was empty, but the line of motorcycles still lingered. Leading you to the front porch steps he sat down, gesturing for you to do the same.

“I’m disappointed, Bucky.” Turning your head to the side you caught a flicker of that beautiful smile that laced his lips and your only hope was that with your next set of words you could coax out another hearty laugh.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“As head of the welcoming committee in town you really should have welcomed them instead of running away.”

Bursting into laughter at the groan he let loose you nudged his shoulder trying hard to settle the way your heart sped up at the contact.

“Stick around long enough and you’ll be seeing more of them than you ever wanted to.”

“I feel like there’s a story behind that.”

“Maybe I’ll tell it to you sometime.”

“Maybe I’d like that.”

A motorcycle roared to life before racing off down the street. A group of guys carrying cases of beers stepped around you and Bucky entering the house, their raucous and drunken laughter filling your ears. The moon subtly shifted its position in the sky. But through it all, the distractions that flitted around you urging your attention elsewhere your focus never left each other’s eyes as if you were magnets drawn to each other and in a way you supposed that was true.

“Bucky!”

The voice was impatient as if they had been trying to grab his attention for awhile now. The spell you had fallen under was broken. A muttered curse word under his breath, a thin line of his lips, his head tilting to the side glaring at the man who had interrupted him, another piece of hair slipping from his bun.

For a minute no words were spoken and you felt caught in the middle, torn between ushering him towards the man calling his name and staying out of it.

“When you get done making googly eyes at your girl over there we could use your help in here, man.”

Staring down at your lap you tried to hide your smile at the way he had referred to you as his girl. You barely knew Bucky, certainly didn’t know his friend, but that didn’t stop the pattering of your heart or stretched smile.

“Sounds serious,” you commented, eyes lifting up to his.

“Probably a fight,” he muttered. Running a hand through his hair he heaved a sigh. The reluctance to leave was written across his face and you were pleased that the feeling was mutual.

“You should go. You know make sure nobody’s barreled through the railing out back,” you teased. The last thing you wanted was for him to leave, but it was the right thing to do. Even so that didn’t stop the stinging in your chest or the worries that this would be it, the first and the last time you saw him.

Standing up he exhaled a slow stream of breath. “Yeah,” he murmured lowly, more to himself than to you as if he had to talk himself into leaving.

Still, he didn’t make a move to leave. It was only when that impatient voice yelled for him again did Bucky yell back that he was coming.

“I’ll see you around, yeah?”

It wasn’t what you had been hoping for. You had hoped he’d ask for you number, maybe ask if he could see you again. Swallowing your disappointment you painted a smile on your face.

“It’s a small town, right?” You called out to him.

His smile was bright, lighting up the front porch steps. His laugh was rich, sending your heart racing. And when you turned around to get a final look at him your heart almost burst out of your chest when you saw him watching you too before he disappeared into the house.

“Wow,” Natasha smirked, arm looped through Wanda’s they strolled down the front steps coming to a stop where Bucky had been only moments before. “For someone who wasn’t excited about the party looks like you were enjoying yourself quite a bit.”

Keeping quiet for a second you struggled to gather your thoughts as Wanda looped her arm through yours and you began an unsteady walk back to the car. Choosing your words carefully you said, “It was... better than I expected it was going to be.”

Most of your experience with parties involved attending wedding receptions and those weren’t for enjoyment, those were part of your job working quickly to settle feuding family members, making sure to hand out coffee to the people toeing the line of tipsiness and embarrassingly drunk. In high school you had only ever gone to a couple parties too worried about your classmates would think of you to ever truly let loose.

“You should have given him your phone number,” Wanda said. Unlocking the car and unlocking your arms you slid into the backseat your head resting against the headrest, your fingers pushing the button that lowered the window.

“All done.” Natasha’s smirk was wide as she stared at you in the rear view mirror before starting the car.

“Natasha!” You yelped. “You can’t just give guys my number and don’t you think if he wanted it he would have asked?”

The radio blared to life as the car started, a semi familiar song blasting from the speakers, tires thrummed on the road, the mugginess of the night rushing in through the open windows.

Wanda reached forward to turn the volume down, but Natasha swatted her hand away. Their laughter mixed with the pumping bass flowed to the back seat where you smiled softly at them though they couldn’t see you.

“He was going to. I’m sure of it,” Wanda said. Twisting in her seat to face you her expression was open, tone confident and despite your own doubts about his intentions or lack there of you believed her.

Closing your eyes you let the music wash over you, your mind replaying the nights events over and over again.

Tags;

@nacho-bucky

@redhairedfeistynerd

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #my writing

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writingbakery · 4 years

Text

“cold moonlight”

i asked the discord server what they wanted to see, & they overwhelmingly voted angst - all i can do is deliver ✨ [taglist; @sparkncharge @redbeanteax @secondhand-trash @keigos-dove @katsukisprincess @jojosmilktea @antigenius @kingtamakimurder @heroheads @yuueimagines ]

[pairing: astronaut!hawks x gn astronaut!reader]

[warnings; space travel gone wrong, debris shower, final moments, character death, heavy angst/unhappy ending]

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

space is unforgiving.

twenty three days of isolated space travel has shown you that in waves; freezing, desolate darkness surrounds you at all sides. you found beauty in its cruelty, yes, but more importantly, you found suffering. the only thing keeping you sane was keigo, and even he was reaching his limits.

the pair of you were locked inside a half battered shuttle, floating aimlessly in deep space. Command had stopped answering hails days ago; rations had dried up this morning. a snapped tether was all it took for space to show you just how brutal it could be, if desired; you were certain rescue was a fantasy. the rest of your crew were probably safely entering earths atmosphere now, halfway home and far from the tendrils of the stars. you envied them.

keigo’s kept positive where you’ve gone negative, constantly countering your words - “don’t talk like that now, lil dove. we’ll be soaring through he atmosphere before you know it,” he promises every time, kissing your forehead. at first, it brought you comfort, but now, every word seems hollow, his lips cold against your skin.

he’s been clattering around the shuttle all morning, attempting to find ways to kickstart the thrusters while you drowned in the silence. it’s haunting, how desperation presents itself - an overwhelming need to move, and an inability to do anything but wallow.

there’s never been a silence you could taste before, loud and violent in all its quiet. you’re boneless, weighed down by your guilt and fears; keigo shouldn’t have even been on the shuttle. he’d accompanied you to make the repairs easier, his academy nickname - hawks, red wings inked against his spine to match - following him all the way out to space. you’d never have expected Command to assign you both to the same mission, liability in a married couple in space, and yet.

your bond hadn’t caused the debris shower to snap your tether, or batter your body against the side of the shuttle. you could barely walk, bruised all up and down your body, and keigo had torn insulation to patch your bleeding leg. your bond hadn’t isolated you from the group, or trapped you inside a barely functioning shuttle. space has done that, without care for your desperate pleas of a safe return home.

keigo knocks twice on a support beam to get your attention, pulling you from your drowning misery. he’s half suited up, hair falling in his bloodshot eyes as he holds up a few tools and tattered wire. “i figured out how to get the engines moving. it’s a long shot, and we don’t have a lot of time before the next debris storm hits, but it’s a shot,” he says earnestly, blind optimism flooding his exhausted features.

for a moment, you can’t move, too certain that you’ll die right where you sit regardless of keigo’s hopes and dreams. but his eyes plead with you in a way you’ve always been weak for, and you shakily stand.

“show me.” and he does.

the thrusters are dead, but not damaged, fuel cells not completely burnt out & by keigo’s estimations, hotwiring two sections of the cables beneath the paneling would reroute some of the power just enough to kickstart the engines and propel you close enough to earth to get the ship back into the atmosphere. he was always the expert in that, fiddling & taking apart machinery until it worked again. you’d alwags joked he was your birdbrained mguyver, ready to invent something out of a toaster & spare engine coils at a moment’s notice.

now, his knack for wiring only means one thing; he’s going out there alone.

you put up a good fight, listing all the ways you could help him, how your leg wouldn’t be a burden out there - weightlessness would make the pain of dragging the injury around nonexistent, & you knew this was at minimum a three person job. he’d be out there for two hours at least, & you had no way of knowing when the next debris storm would hit. he’d be all alone, defenseless against the horror that put you in this position in the first place, & you could barely stomach the thought.

all keigo offers you in return is a smile, soft and small and sad in a way you haven’t ever seen from him before. resignation is written all over his face, & you know he’s long accepted the fact that you’re staying in the shuttle, regardless of your protests.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it’s been over two hours since then, & keigo’s still not back inside the shuttle.

you’re strapped into the pilots chair, frustratedly slamming the controls; no matter what wires he splits and layers out there, the connections aren’t traveling deep enough into the conduits to affect the fuel cells, & you’re starting to worry.

“maybe we should stop here, regroup. we can try again once the storm passes,” you argue into the comm for the fifth time, straining to meet keigo’s eyes through the port window. your words fall on deaf ears again, a wave of his hand confirming; he’s staying right where he is until the job is done.

the sensors start humming, so low and gentle at first that you don’t even register their warnings until its a battle cry, blaring alarms and flashing warnings that would sit behind your eyelids for years, haunting your nightmares until sleep no longer came knocking.

the debris storm was here.

slamming on the comm, you & keigo began yelling at the same time, words spilling over each other like waves; “you have to come—“ “—finally reached the conduit—“ “the storm is coming, keigo fuck the conduit—“ “start the goddamn engines!”!

you fumble with the controls, lining up the engines & restabilizing the conduits; they splutter to life slowly, kickstarted by keigo’s own genius & you laugh — both panicked and relieved. “it works, it fucking works, keigo baby you did it, now please come inside,” you plead over the comm, but your husband isn’t moving with the shuttle, & if you strain your eyes you can see him waving.

“now isn’t the time for jokes, you ass, just come inside—“ he cuts off your frightened rambling, coice just a little sad, a little wishful. “i cut my tether.”

the words ice you down to your core, and if you hadn’t been strapped down in the pilot’s chair you would have thrown yourself out the hatch on instinct.

“you cut—“

“i cut my tether. it was the only way, two of us wouldn’t make it to reentry. too heavy, & the conduits needed fresh cabling. we only had the one tether left. i always told you i’d send you home, didn’t i? that you’d get to see the sunrise again, over the ocean. you love the ocean.” his voice is a little unsteady now, & the farther the shuttle lurches away from him the more static impedes his words.

“you love the ocean too, birdbrain. that’s why we got married on the beach,” you whisper, & he laughs a little forlornly in response. “i love you more than that, though. i love you so much it hurts, & that’s why i’m keeping my promise. i’m sending you home.”

you’re running out of time; the static is all but washing out his voice, & the debris storm is rushing towards him full force. what do you say to the love of your life when you know he’s got minutes left, and you’re safe?

“i love you so much, you idiot. i love you, i love you and your stupid wing tattoos that you cried getting, and the stupid smile you get when you win at uno, and the way you always kiss me good morning, even if you want to sleep in longer. i love you, keigo takami, and im always gonna love you,” you promise, wincing as the static reaches fever pitch. you can barely hear him now, but the few words that filter through strike you hard in the heart.

“love .... pretty eyes..... don’t forget.... ocean waves... i love...” the static cuts out with the rest of his words, & you don’t realize you’re crying until your sobs echo back on the comm link, the signal lost.

he loved you, and you love him still, and even as the shuttle burns through the atmosphere, rocking you violently in the pilot’s seat, all you can think about is his smile, the way his eyes crinkled up like stars just before he left the hatch.

you barely register your impact with the ocean, moving on autopilot, just like the shuttle had; keigo must have programmed it before leaving, must’ve known you wouldn’t have the focus. you always did grieve numbly, and he knew that — looking out for you even after he was gone.

you slowly, carefully pull yourself out of the shuttle and onto the beach you’ve washed up on, sighing in guilty relief as you settle against the sand. above you, the stars twinkle and shine, just like keigo, and you smile through the fresh waves of tears. the ocean kisses your feet, and for a moment you imagine he’s there, his spirit, above and beside you in the waves and the stars.

he’d always be with you there, you think, eyes wet. you’d always have the stars and the ocean, and you’d always have keigo.

the ocean hums to your broken heart, and cradles you as you cry, the water sympthathetic.

for all the pain, however, you know. you know that somewhere up there, amongst the stars, a pair of red wings would circle the earth, & keep you safe, just like he promised.

alone, you watch the sun rise over the ocean, and smile.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #evywrites #bnha angst #hawks x reader #hawks x you #keigo takami x reader #hawks angst #bnha au #boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero x reader

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 172 prt 1

172

Sprawled across Hunk, Lance could have laughed. They’d made it. They’d broken the rules of all bad horror movies and hadn’t smartly stayed trapped until help came. They’d made it and the elevator hadn’t dropped. No decapitation. No vivisection. But his damn wings had come out, and Hunk was visibly scared of him. He could see himself reflected in his eyes, all vampiry and not presentable at all. He’d really liked this shirt too. This in built bra business was great. Climbing up, Lance reached his hand out, Hunk letting himself be pulled to his feet before taking half a step back. It was disheartening

“I know. I’m all scary right now”

“A bit... You didn’t give me enough warning”

“If I’d warned you, you would have tensed and hurt yourself when we hit the floor. Are you okay?”

“Yeah... yeah... Holy shit, we’re actually out of the elevator”

“Yep. It looks like the staff already left... I’ve never been here with an empty reception before”

As with the elevator, the reception was bathed red. Lance really hating how it gave the impression blood had splattered everywhere. Red was not a calming colour. He’d have to talk to Coran about changing it to light pink or something as innocent. Looking down the hallways, they were blocked off by what looked like walls. This must have been what Keith meant. Grabbing his stomach as pain flared again, he bit his lip as he hissed. He’d lied to spare Keith’s feelings. He felt incredibly tender and it’d taken too much energy to get the damn doors open.

“Lance!”

Lance was not having a fun time. Knowing he’d cut himself off from hearing Keith’s voice, he felt like crying. This pain he didn’t feel equipped to handle without his boyfriend

“I’m definitely not enjoying this...”

“You need to sit down. I know you want to be all brave right now, but I’m putting my foot down”

Lance scoffed at Hunk, his ego a wanker

“I’m a vampire, don’t think you know better than me”

“You’re not yourself. You lied to Keith and we both know it. You need to rest”

“We need to keep moving”

Hunk threw his hands in the air

“Stop it! You’re not okay! I won’t watch as you lose the twins! I won’t. Either you listen to me, or we can’t be friends! Now, you’re going to sit down and I’m going to try accessing the network from the reception terminal”

Lance blinked at Hunk. Hunk was “Hulking” out on him. Scary mad Hunk was both scary and mad. Very few times had he seen Hunk like this... His ego was angry, but his heart hurt with the shame of knowing Hunk only wanted to help and he was being a douche. He deserved a dick punch

“You’re right. I’m sorry... I don’t feel good”

“No shit. Now sit. I’ll get you some water”

“Standing hurts less”

“Then lean against the desk”

Lance sucked his cheeks in. Pressing his lips tightly together so he didn’t laugh in the face of being scolded. Hunk wanted to help. He had to show him though he looked scary, he wouldn’t leap on him and drain him like a blood bag

“Can you help?”

“Sure, man... Just stop making me worry”

“I’m...”

Behind the reception desk, the phone began ringing

“That’ll be Pidge...”

Hunk ignored it, coming to his side to support Lance’s weight

“She can wait until your resting. Seriously, were you always that strong? Those doors looked heavy”

“Would you believe I’m actually pretty week right now”

“You’re overpowered. You know you’re overpowered right”

“I’ve been nerfed. Taken out by... fucking contractions...”

“Oh, man! You don’t need to push do you?!”

“Not yet... it’s too soon”

“You can’t stop them if they want to come”

“I’m going to hold my legs together and keep them in there as long as I possibly can”

“Man, it doesn’t work like that”

He could clench with the best of them. By breathing through his nose, he’d picked up the fact he’d wet himself at some point... he had no shame left

“It’s going to have to. I want the drugs and I want Keith...”

“I can’t do either”

“But you can do you... I’m going to be angry if Coran forgot to warn us that these doors could drop, and everything down there is fine”

“Does it feel fine?”

“Going by my gut feeling, that would be a no”

He’d gone there. Let a vampire have his deflective humour. Other than his good looks, that’s all he had. Leaning against the reception counter, Lance grabbed the phone up, annoyed by the constant ringing

“Hello, this is team... Lunk? Or is Hance? Lunce? This is team “Stiff and the Chef”. How may I direct your call today?”

“What took you so long to answer?!”

“Ah, hello there, Keith. What a pleasure. You’ll be pleased to know we’re okay. Hunk’s about to get started on the computer, and I think I’ve figure out how to put you on speaker... if I hang up, call me back. I’ve never been a great receptionist”

Keith sighed heavily in the phone line. Lance pressing the button that said speaker and set the handset down

“You had me worried”

Good. He hadn’t hung up on Keith. Pidge could hear them both, so she and Hunk would be able to techno babble

“I know”

“No, you don’t know. What happened?! Are you okay?”

“I landed on Hunk. We didn’t get hurt”

“Lance has batted out! He’s got his wings out!”

Dobber. Hunk returned the scowl Lance shot his was he settled in front of the computer

“Fuck. Babe... I know how much energy that takes out of you”

“I’m not rushing to try the walls. I see what you mean now. The reception is cut off”

“Is there anyone there? Pidge is changing camera angle”

“No. I’m going to assume Coran either trained his staff in these kinds of drills, or he had limited staff knowing he was summoning a demon”

Two long moments passed before Keith sighed into the phone

“Babe. What aren’t you telling me? I can hear your ego and if your wings are out, you’re stressing out”

Damn, Keith was good

“It’s... okay, I’m still... cramping. I’m not bleeding... but I definitely need a different pair of pants

“Lance!”

“I know. That’s why I’m not going to push myself any further now we’re out the elevator”

“We need to get you out of here. We need proper help”

“I know. Okay, I know. You freaking out won’t make us get out of here any faster”

In the background Pidge squabbled with Keith for the phone

“Lance, are your contractions coming regularly or spastically?”

“Uh... whenever they feel like it. They don’t feel like fake contractions”

“Google says real contractions should come regularly like a regular time apart”

“You’ve got Google?”

“I downloaded some stuff on pregnancy so I’d understand”

God. He loved Pidge. His ego pleased their friends cared so much about the twins

“Pidge...”

“I want you to time them for me. We’ll need all the data we can get”

“I don’t know... they hurt like fuck”

“Worse than a noogie?”

Pidge was so innocent

“Think period cramp with razor blades”

“Okay. That... that doesn’t sound fun... and I don’t think they’re supposed to feel like that. Does it feel like when you had your bleed?”

“I... Coran saw to that pretty fast, it... started when we got inside and... again when we were coming back from the coffee shop”

“I think the quintessence or magic or whatever is affecting you because you’re not human. I didn’t feel anything before the walls came down”

“I did. It felt... bad”

Keith came back over the line

“Babe, I want you to sit down. Hunk, you take care of him. You’re in charge. Lance, I know you’re egos riled up, but you don’t have the extra energy for those wings”

Lance’s bottom lip quivered. He was making Keith mad at him

“If I could put them away, I would have”

“I know. Hunk, is there any way you can do something or your end?”

“I’m locked out. I’m trying to get in”

Pidge called out

“Let me look. I should be able to get in because I’m already logged in! Keith’s gonna talk to Lance now. Lance, take it off speaker. I need to concentrate”

Figuring out how to take it off speaker wasn’t as easy as pressing the speaker button. He managed to hang up, before Keith called him back

“Babe?”

“I’m here”

Privacy would have been nice, but Hunk couldn’t hear Keith so Lance would have to make do with semi privacy

“How bad?”

“Not good”

“Shit”

Lance nodded. Yep. That summed it up nicely

“Pretty much”

“Okay. Babe, I’m not mad at you. Okay. I’m not mad”

“I am. I thought I was... I was being paranoid. I’ve been doing everything”

Keith’s voice was soothing. Lance longed to cuddle into him

“I know you have. I know”

“I told Hunk they’re staying in there”

Keith snorted

“Good. They’re not going anywhere ahead of time”

“You should tell them that”

“I am. I’m telling you and we’re working as fast as we can”

“I know. Do you think Curtis’s demon was reacting to my ego?”

“I don’t see why it would. We were fine in Platt”

“But Platt is your home... Maybe the demon didn’t like me being friends with Shiro”

Lance sniffled. His ego was being hit by his human emotions

“Then it’s an idiot. It’d be lucky to have you as a friend”

“You’re just saying that because you’re dating me”

“I seem to remember you taking in two strangers before we were dating”

“You wanted to shoot me”

“I thought you were bad, and then you went and turned out to be a good person”

“I scared Hunk”

“Oh, hey. That was your ego. But don’t you ever scare me like that again. And don’t go opening elevator doors like that again”

“I won’t. I don’t have the strength”

Keith went quiet as he processed what was said. Sadly the hunter mumbled into the phone

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do”

“I don’t know either. Coran normally pops up to fix everything”

“That he does. I’d sit through a dozen of his stories to see you right now”

Looking down at his hands, his clawed fingernails were slowly retracting. Nothing calmed like Keith

“So would I... he talks about the past a lot more now”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. He was my therapist for a bit... but he didn’t tell me much about that stuff”

“I think it’d make him the skeevy uncle if he did”

“You can’t call Coran “skeevy””

Coran would have had a heart attack on the spot, or at least a fair amount of damage to his soul. Prim and proper, solving each problem with one cup of tea at a time, that was Coran... most of the time...

“I’m just saying that he probably didn’t because you kept yourself so guarded”

That was true. It was still a fight to go against years of self imposed training. Love had drawn him out of his shell. Platonic love for Pidge and Hunk. True love with Keith. The love and patience of a mother from Mami

“Until you came along. All I could do before was stay on the outside”

“Being on the outside is overrated”

Sadness bubbled up. Lance not entirely sure what he was sad over now. He ached to be with Keith...

“That’s true. Babe, we never did paint the rest of the nursery”

“That’s because Shiro fell asleep. You know, Pidge totally called out us out earlier”

“She did?”

“She reminded me we didn’t get a pram or car seats”

“I didn’t think about that”

He’d only thought of how to make their home as comfortable as possible for their twins

“I didn’t either. Mum’s getting us car seats”

“Is that because of her driving?”

“I’m not about to disagree. Are you sitting down yet?”

“It hurts less to stand”

“Did you take your shoes off?”

“How am I supposed to reach without you?”

“Carefully?”

Lance chuckled into the phone. He was acting like a nutter, still, everything he said Keith seemed to have a quick comeback for

“I’m too fat for that. I’m grateful yoga pants are stretchy”

“They do make your arse look good”

“I know. I liked this shirt”

“We’ll get you a new one when we get out of here”

Lance nodded, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, voice cracking as he smiled

“I’d like that. Coran’s probably going to keep me in again”

“Then we’ll stage a break out”

Coran would shoot them. Heck, Shiro might even kneecap them for trying

“Will you throw me over your shoulder and make a run for it?”

“Nah, princess carry all the way, just like the diva you are”

“Hey, Keith. I really love you”

“I love you too, babe. We’re coming for you guys”

“I know you are. You always do”

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for a blood sucker”

In the background Pidge was groaning at the pair of them. Lance laughing at Keith’s bad joke startled Hunk, who raised an eyebrow

“Hunk’s looking at me like I’m weird”

“You are. All our friends are. Oh, Pidge says the twins have now become baguettes”

“Baguettes are pretty big... I don’t want to give birth to a foot long sub”

“That’s be a really long shit and stuff”

“I think it’d be worse than a dick punch”

His arse firmly noped that idea

“I’m ready to dick punch Coran if he forgot to tell us this was going to happen”

“I had the same thought. God. I’m terrible”

“We’re both as bad as each other”

“Maybe it’s a soulmate thing?”

“So that’s my super power? I can tell Shay I’m like the superhero of dick punches?”

“I think she’d laugh way too hard if you did”

“Probably. Have you sat down yet?”

“No... I don’t want to put the phone down”

“I don’t want you to either...”

“I won’t... Have you guys got us on camera?”

“Pidge has two monitors and I have no idea what’s happening on either of them”

“That sounds about right for her. I’m glad the internal line still works”

“I found some Blade comms, but I think all outgoing signals are jammed”

“Coran does own the whole block”

“Then he can afford to give me a pay rise for dealing with this shit”

“We are pretty broke”

“But we’re rich on love”

“Keith, put the phone on speaker!”

“You hear that?”

Pidge sounded grumpy

“Our gremlin being cranky?”

“Yeah. Are you okay to do that?”

“I’ve got it... lemme push the button”

Lance pressed speaker, managing to get it right again

“Okay, you’re on speaker, Pidge”

“Good! Hunk, help, they’re being romantic!”

“I know. I don’t know what Keith is saying, but it’s calming Lance down”

“They’re being all gross”

“Love isn’t gross”

“Because you and Shay are mental for each other. I’ll take my electronics instead. Now, I’m hooked up to your computer. Coran’s password works for everything”

“So it should work on here?”

“I’d say so. You ready?”

“Give it to me”

“It’s all one word. Coran-the-galant”

What the heck? Coran’s password involved himself? Then again, it was so weird that it was perfect. No one would think that Coran’s password was himself

“Pidge?”

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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mymoodwriting · 3 years

Text

No More Promises

Mark/Donghyuck

Genre: Mafia/Neo Tech AU

Warning: Fire, Manipulation, Lies, Anxiety, Fear, Blood

Words: 1.5K

Chapters:

Prompt: Donghyuck had spent all his life on the streets, over the years making a family out of other random strays he came across. He did his best to look after them, that is until Mark came into his life. The boy was like a gift, being able to provide and look after all of them. It was wonderful, at first anyway. Things quickly got complicated as Mark got involved in all kinds of dangerous things in order to keep a promise, one of many promises. This eventually tore them apart, Hyuck’s little family leaving Mark in the wind after another broken promise. They did the best they could on their own, that is until Mark finds his way back into their life. He made another promise, to someone who would absolutely make sure he kept it.

Vague threats were always the worst, but threatening and dragging in his boys, it just created concern. Haechan rarely ever got good sleep, especially when he was out on the streets. The fear of being attacked, the fear of his kids being targeted were the worst. Nightmares like that were rather common, but thankfully that’s all they ever were. Until now that is. They weren’t just in danger, but trapped.

Haechan woke with a cold sweat, bits of sunlight peeking through the curtains. He hated the sense of relief and safety the place gave him. The kids had everything they needed, and they were pretty happy. It was the stability and care they all needed, and he had never been able to provide. Once he had calmed down from the dream, he got out of bed and made his way to the kitchen for breakfast. That’s where he found everyone present, except for Chenle and Jaemin.

“Where’s… where’s Chenle and Jaemin?”

“They were taken for morning exams.” Jeno explained. “They left like half an hour ago.”

“What!”

Haechan ran over to the elevator, frantically hitting the button. He knew the elevator wouldn’t come, but he knew his attempts would attract attention. He would also yell at the camera in the corner. It wasn’t long before the elevator doors opened, before Ten could step out, he was shoved back. Haechan pushed his way in.

“Take me to my boys! Now!”

“They’re fine. You should just-”

“I said now!”

“Alright, alright, calm down.”

Ten took Haechan down to the infirmary, Chenle and Jaemin sitting on a bed, one of the two doctors looking them over. Haechan ran over to hug each of them, asking if they were alright. They both seemed confused, since they knew nothing was wrong, and Haechan seemed to be overreacting.

“What’s gotten into you?” Jaemin asked. “We’re fine.”

“Why didn’t you wake me when you left?”

“Cause it wasn’t necessary… it’s just a check up. They only drew blood.”

“Why?”

“Ask the doctors, I don’t have a medical degree.”

“It’s just routine.” Hendery explained. “We’re looking after their health.”

“Right…”

Haechan stuck around with the two until the doctors were done, and then the three returned to their dorm. He could relax more now that his boys were back with him, but he had this uneasy lingering feeling. He thought it would pass, but it never did, in fact, he was proven right days later. Things were quiet and normal, until they weren’t.

Jisung and Chenle were playing video games again, their new favorite pastime. At the end of a match Chenle was enraged, feeling cheated out of a win. Of course it was all in good fun, but in the moment the emotions are real, real enough to cause damage. A fire suddenly broke out in the room, startling both boys. They screamed and started yelling for help.

Haechan and Renjun were the first to respond, Renjun getting the fire extinguisher from the kitchen. Nothing burned, and the fire didn’t get out of control, so that was good, but no one knew how it had started. Haechan checked on both boys, to make sure they weren’t injured. They did their own investigation, and some members from NCT came to check it out, but there was no cause. Once again the situation didn’t sit right with Haechan.

It wasn’t long before more fires broke out around the dorm. Always random, always taken care of. There wasn’t an answer, until Haechan witnessed the situation first hand. Chenle was helping him cook one day, when he accidentally cut himself with the knife. He screamed and the counter suddenly caught fire. Haechan yelled himself, startled by the fire, which didn’t help Chenle at all. More fires sprung up, until Haechan focused on Chenle.

He noticed how panicked the boy was, and slowly approached him. When he took the little ones hand, he felt how warm they were, and only getting hotter. Everything was starting to click into place, and he realized what had been done. He grabbed the boys face, getting his attention, and telling him to focus on his voice. He needed Chenle to calm down in order for everything to stop.

“Take a deep breath, Chenle. Everything is going to be fine.”

His words and voice seemed to work as Chenle controlled his breathing, and the fires began to die down. The fire alarms had sounded, and the others had gathered, but it all seemed to magically disappear before their eyes. Again the fire attracted NCT, and this time, Haechan knew what was going on. He grabbed Chenle and went to the elevator. The rest of his boys were confused but they could do nothing.

Chenle was taken to the infirmary. His cut was treated, and then he was taken elsewhere. Haechan made sure his boy was alright then confronted Ten, who was also chatting around with Johnny. He wasn’t going to build up to his question, so he just asked them. Well, more like accusing them.

“What did you guys do to Chenle!”

“So you’re not as dumb as you look.” Johnny laughed. “That’s good.”

“Answer me!” Haechan grabbed Johnny. “Now!”

“Easy there.” Ten pulled Haechan back. “Easy, let’s have a civilized conversation.”

Haechan was taken to one of their offices. He refused to sit down, wanting answers more than small talk.

“Amuse me then.” Johnny said. “What do you think we did?”

“You gave him fucken powers! He’s a kid!”

“You’re a kid.”

“You-”

Once again Ten held Haechan back, and glared at Johnny. They were all supposed to be getting along, and he was not helping.

“We’re supposed to talk, remember.” Ten hissed. “But yes, we determined he was ready for the next phase.”

“You told me you were being honest with me! Why didn’t you tell me!”

“What difference would it have made?” Johnny questioned. “He was gonna get powers-”

“At least I’d know what to expect! Instead of questioning all the random fires!”

“Speaking of.” Ten added. “He’s pyrokinetic, meaning he can control fire.”

“So it was him…”

“Yes, and given the circumstances, it’s clearly tied to his emotions.”

“And you can’t possibly manage him.” Johnny said. “Fire, it’s dangerous.”

Haechan sighed and finally sat down, stressed out. Even though he wanted to believe he could do this, it was becoming clear what was happening was beyond his control. Jaemin had also been in the infirmary that day, so it’s possible he’d start causing a ruckus.

“It’s not a bad thing to have power. You guys have always felt powerless, at the mercy of a society that didn’t care for you.” Ten began. “You, and your boys, are better off with us. We don’t have ill intentions, and we just want us all to get along.”

“You’ve said that before…”

“And I mean, we mean it. Even if Johnny is being an ass.”

“Ya!”

“Shut it.”

“You know you’re not really giving me a choice here.”

“You’re so desperate to take care of your family, you’re blinding yourself from what’s best for them. Or maybe you just don’t want to be around Mark so bad and you’re condemning everyone else for it. Constant change isn’t good, it’s not stable, and they need stability.”

Haechan just shut his eyes, not wanting to dwell on that thought, or spare a second on that man. A moment later Ten handed him a file, it was about his boys, and their powers. He began to flip through the pages. They were special, and it seemed they would all develop powers. Haechan sighed.

“How… how exactly can you help them? These powers…”

“Taeil. He’s our… stabilizer.”

“Huh?”

“Our powers don’t work around him.” Ten explained. “I can’t control him, and Chenle won’t cause fires around him.”

“That’s half the problem.”

“I know. We have a diverse group of people that can help him. Besides Taeil, there’s YangYang, indestructible, so Chenle can’t hurt him, and Lucas can mimic powers, so he’ll be able to manipulate fire too and keep it from getting out of control.”

“Oh…”

“We can help him too.”

“I can?”

“Yeah. I managed to convince Hendery to see what your kids would develop, he’s resting so he’ll be fine, but he did also find out what you can do.”

“And that is?”

“You’re like me.”

“Like you?”

“Mind control, except you need to be in physical contact with your victim.”

“I…”

Haechan thought back to earlier, how he had gotten Chenle to calm down. It was certainly an attempt that he wasn’t so confident would work, but it did, and it made sense now. Although he did also feel guilt for using his powers on Chenle, even if he was trying to help.

“Fine…”

“Hm?”

“You win… we’ll stay… build a relationship…”

“I’m glad you-”

“If, and only if, you tell them all about this. Their powers, and what you’ve done. You gotta be honest with all of us going forward.”

“Alright, that seems fair. Any other demands?”

“Yeah… I don’t ever want to see Mark. If the others want to, that’s their choice, but you keep him away from me. And I know you can with your mind control powers.”

“Touché. Consider it done. You’ve made a good choice.”

“For them, this is for them above all else.”

“Of course.”

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darkelfshadow · 3 years

Text

Session Summary - 98

AKA “The Fallen”

Adventures in Taggriell

Session 98 (Date: 13th November 2020)

Players Present:

- Rob (Known as “Varis”) Elf Male.

- Bob (Known as “Sir Krondor) Dwarf Male.

- Paul (Known as “Labarett”) Elf Male.

- Travis (Known as “Trenchant”) Human Male.

- Arthur (Known as “Gim”) Dwarf Male.

- John (Known as “Ragnar”) Dwarf Male.

Absent Players

- Nil

NPC

- (Known as “Naillae”) Elf Female. <Controlled by Travis>

Summary

- Moonday, 15th Desnus in the year 815 (Second Era). Summer.

- The party begin this session, having just arrived at Kranun’s Crater, observing a small group of Orcs seated around a campfire and a large group of Dragon Cultists.

- The five Orcs appeared relaxed and unconcerned. The Cultists however appeared alert and focused. A purple robed female officer, sits atop a muscular looking Wyvern.

- This must be Ixusaxa Terrorsong that the party were informed of. The rest of the Cultists are lead by a Dragonsoul, two Dragonfangs, and twelve Dragonwings. Two Guard Drakes are pulling a cart with a large barrel on it.

- Trenchant uses magic to change the appearance of the party to that of a group of Orcs and their Direwolves. They approach the Orcs on “guard” around the camp fire and demand to be let in to join. The Orcs refuse and unsure of what to do at this situation, send one of them away to get further help.

- This unusual occurrence, the squabbling by two different Orc Tribes, the Burning Banner and the Red Fangs (the Tribal name chosen by Trenchant) intrigues Ixusaxa. To her knowledge the Burning Banner lead by the Orog Narle Shieldbiter, is the only Tribe around these parts. Ixusaxa’s suspicions grow when thinking what she knows about the Red Fangs of Shargaas. Worshippers of Shargaas, the Orc God of darkness, stealthiness, thievery and the necromancy.

- A group such as this, appearing now, fells wrong to Ixusaxa. She flies her faithful Wyvern closer to observe the disturbance. She attempts to cast a Detect Magic spell, but then one of the new Orcs starts jumping about and screaming. Her spell is countered! Furious, knowing no mere Orc could do this, she flies her Wyvern closer still, landing on one the larger rock formations closet to these new Orcs. Trenchant eyes her carefully, as it was his disguised and hidden performance, that countered her spell.

- The party, all still disguised as Red Fang Orcs, move closer to the camp and Orcs, whilst another group of Orcs appears from an unseen hole in the ground. Now ten Orcs stand and challeng the disguised party. Trenchant, is now engaged in a one on one heated exchange, versus one of the new Orcs, a large commander.

- During this exchange, Ixusaxa once again casts Detect Magic and sees to her alarm and surprise the bright glow of multiple magic sources covering these new “Orcs”, and in particular a extremely bright glow coming from the head of one “Orc”. Unknown to Ixusaxa this glow is coming from the powerful artefact of the Black Dragon Mask worn by Sir Krondor.

- Ixusaxa immediately launches her Wyvern into the air shouting, “A trap! Kill them all ….”

- But before she can finish her command, a single expertly aimed arrow plunges into her heart. Her lifeless body then falls to the ground, as a satisfied looking Varis slightly loweres his bow, admiring his shot.

- Mayhem brakes out. Quickly Trenchant casts a Mass Suggestion spell on all the Orcs and luckily or by the grace of the gods, all the Orcs succumb to the Spell. The party, still disguised as Orcs, now have all the real Orcs under their control to fight for them against the Cult. The Cult now just sees a large group of Orcs all turn on them, and start to attack.

- The battle is now on. Dragonwing Enforcers leap from rocky boulder to rocky boulder, keeping cover, until they can get into position to attack. The Dragonsoul and Dragonfangs, leap forward and immediately start throwing Orbs of Acid at the Orcs, real Orcs and disguised party alike.

- The Guard Drakes bite off the leather harness attaching them to the cart and then begin to race around the side of the combat and towards the far side.

- The enraged Wyvern begins attacking indiscriminately, its poisonous stinger proving deadly and killing Orc after Orc.

- The party move forward, engaging the Dragon Enforcers one by one. Blade, arrow and spell dropping foe after foe whilst the party ignore any injuries received.

- The air around the battle changes, the sound dimming, almost as in fear. A form emerges from the hole in the ground, slowly and without any care of the enemies or battle around it. Shrouded in a full plate armour, with a purple cloak flowing behind it, as if moving from unseen winds. The head of the figure is fully covered in a metal helm, but two red glowing points of light emerge where the eyes should be.

- A deep voice, filled with anger and vengeance, and a confidence born of absolute devotion and power sounds from the helm, “My faith is my armour.” Glowing sigils appear all over the armour, and the air around the figure appears to bend and warp, affecting light itself.

- The figure holds out its right hand, black mist appearing from its hand as the mist begins condensing into a large great sword. The deep voice speaks again, “My sword cuts down the unfaithful.”

- With a slow assured gait, moving onwards, like a river that pushes aside all in its path, the figure moves towards Gim. The red glowing eyes lock onto Gim, the figure raising its great sword up as if in a mock salute to Gim who is disguised as an Orc, and the voice speaks one final time, “By the will of Tiamat. I serve.” The red eyes seem to stare directly at Gim, seeing him for true, past the illusion.

- Sweat starts to pour down Gim’s face, looking at this thing approach him.

- Those words, somehow the words are familiar to others in the party. Trenchant, Labarett and Sir Krondor look over to at the new figure, terror at the sight of it but also something about those words sends shivers down their spines. All three have heard words spoken before, long ago, similar words but different. The memory eludes them yet it scares them to their core.

- Fear extends from the new figure, affecting those around it.

- Gim raises his great sword up but before he can even think to block, the figure moves, faster than it seems possible. The dark great sword held in the figure’s hand, black mist swirling around it, moves with a blur. The blade strikes again and again, cutting into Gim, and with each strike a flash of purple light erupted from the Divine Smite.

- Gim’s head reels as he is brought down to his knees from the force of the blows. Regaining his senses, he leapes up and swings his enchanted great sword Narhethi at the figure in plate mail but the blade is turned aside at the last second by some arcane shielding surrounding the figure. With more determination, Gim pushes on, his great sword swinging into the figure with all his might. This time the blade strikes true and hits the helmet of foe with full force. Gim watches with satisfaction as the helmet cracks and then shatters into purple light and mist, exposing the “head” within. A dark mist, formed into the shape of head, with two red pulses orbs for the eyes, stares back at Gim.

- Ragnar’s skin crawls as he realises what stands before them. He shouts out a warning to Gim, “That’s a Fallen Paladin! A vessel for a God! A Champion Of Tiamat!”

- Gim, stepping slightly back, shouts back in anger, “His armour is stopping my sword’s power!”

- Trenchant moving closer, shouts, “The armour glows with sigils whenever you strike it! It must be warded from magic.”

- Sir Krondor, climbing over some rocks to get to his cousin, shouts, “Then we do this the old fashioned way!”

- The battle continues. Chaos and destruction rages. Trenchant calls upon his most powerful magics, creating a Stinking Cloud upon the battle to keep a large portion of the Dragonwing Enforcers out of the battle, and animating to life a number of rocks and boulders to smash into their foes.

- Gim bravely stands his ground versus the Champion Of Tiamat but he can not match the power inflicted by the Fallen Paladin. He is soon knocked to the ground, bleeding to death. Sir Krondor, enraged by the sight of his cousin laying on the ground, rushes up to the Champion and fights the foe. Labarett too has joined the battle, climbing into a higher position on the rocks and attacks the Champion. The Champion turns his attention to Labarett next and begins inflicting serious injury upon the raging Barbarian.

- Varis rains arrows into the battle, each expertly placed, his assassin training kicking in. Naillae, staying back, rushes forward, throws a well placed and well need dagger, before quickly retreating back to safety near Varis.

- Ragnar too is casting spells, inflicting damage upon the enemies and creating a swathe of destruction and death on the battlefield.

- Just as Sir Krondor and Labarett think they have gotten the upper hand on the Champion, their concentrated attacks having dealt enormous damage on the Champion, their hope turns to despair when they see the Champion heal himself when he places one of his hands onto his chest, and use the divine power of Lay On Hands.

- Sir Krondor, sweat and blood pouring down his scared faced and into his beard, looks at the dying unconscious body of his cousin Gim. He swings his battle axe in a threatening manner at the Champion, speaking in a deadly voice, “Labarett, get to Gim and spare his life. This son of bitch is mine!” and then the Dwarf Knight leaps into ferocious battle.

- The Wyvern, having flown over to the abandoned cart and having taken a firm hold of the barrel, is now flying away from the battle in the direction of Phlan. Trenchant launches himself into the air, enchanted with the power of Flight, and starts to head towards the Wyvern until he hears a shout from Varis.

- “Leave the Wyvern to me, Trenchant. Do something about that dam Champion before he kills everyone!” shouts Varis.

- Trenchant watches the Wyvern fly away as Varis aims his bow at the creature. Trenchant flies straight down towards the Champion his arms outstretched.

- Naillae, crouched down behind a small boulder, sees what Trenchant is doing and stands up in shock, “What is he doing? Is he trying to lift that armoured warrior into the sky!”

- Trenchant reaches the Champion and then attempts to grab onto the foe.

- Varis quickly rushes over to Naillae, “Don’t worry about that idiot, worry about us!” As he says this, two Guard Drakes leap towards Naillae and Varis, and force the pair into close combat.

- Trenchant slips behind the unaware Champion and places both his arms around the torso of the foe and then immediately flies upwards into the air. The Champion, taken completely unaware, tries to free himself but can not. Once Trenchant has gained some height, he tries to let go of his cargo, and the Champion realises too late the danger he is in. He slips from Trenchant’s grasp and falls to the ground, to smash into the ground with a sickening crash of broken metal. The Champion falls directly into the Stinking Cloud that Trenchant summoned before, and is unable to raise, the enchanted area affecting him.

- Within the Cloud is now the Champion and a handful of Dragonwing Enforcers. Ragnar hurls a Fireball into the Cloud, indiscriminately burning everything within. Trenchant too directs his animated rocks and boulders to smash into everything within the Cloud. Dragonwing Enforcers are blasted away by fire and rocks and the Champion too, already badly wounded, is finally destroyed. With a blast of force, the Champion explodes in a purple flash, his armour and weapon dissolving back into mist. The wave of force dissolves the Stinking Cloud.

- The party now mop up the remaining enemy forces. The fleeing Wyvern is killed by Varis’s arrows, but in the process the barrel it was carrying was dropped to the ground, smashing it open and losing all it’s silvery liquid to the dirt.

- The party pause and catch their breath, regrouping. Gim is brought back to unconscious with some of his wounds healed thanks to a healing spell by Labarett. Slowly, the party walk past the scene of devastation, past the dozens of dead bodies, and make their way to the edge of the crater to look down.

- The massive crater descends about two hundred feet below, a set of stone steps spiralling around the inside wall the entire way down. Two ledges can be seen set into the wall, one close to the top and one half way down. A massive open entrance can be seen near the bottom of the crater, with a wide stone ladder leading to it. A stone building is visible on the floor of the crater, set within small shrubs and the broken ground. A series of stone pillars form circle on the crater floor but it appears that a recent impact has destroyed one of the pillars and formed a small indentation within the crater. This indentation has a small quantity of silvery liquid still visible, but it would appear from the discoloured earth that at some stage the entire indentation had been filled with the liquid.

XP Allocation

Group - Combined (This is equally divided by the number of players who were involved)

Quests (Only quests that are completed or rendered undoable, during this session, are shown here)

- “Stolen Radiance” - Recover the barrel safely from the Cult = FAIL

Creatures Overcome

- Orcs = 500 XP

- Orc Berserkers = 600 XP

- Orc Commanders = 2200 XP

- Ixusaxa Terrorsong (Cult Officer) = 2300 XP

- Wyvern = 2300 XP

- Guard Drakes = 900 XP

- Dragonsoul (4th Rank Enforcer) = 2900 XP

- Dragonfangs (3rd rank Enforcer) = 3600 XP

- Dragonwings (2nd rank Enforcer) = 5400 XP

- Champion Of Tiamat (Fallen Paladin) = 3900 XP

Individual (This is only given to that person and is not divided amongst all players)

Special Bonus (Outstanding Role Playing)

Nil

XP Levels and Player Allocations

Player : Start + Received = Total (Notes)

Rob : 127249 + 3186 = 130435

Arthur : 101707 + 3186 = 104893

John : 97276 + 3186 = 100462 (Level up to Level 12)

Travis : 116899 + 3186 = 120085 (Level up to Level 13)

Paul : 106382 + 3186 = 109568

Bob : 117540 + 3186 = 120726 (Level up to Level 13)

NPC (Naillae) : + (1593)

#D&D #DnD #5th #5e #ROT

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the-big-nope · 4 years

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Mighty Nein vs. Ripley Swap

Soldiering on through the Vox Machina rewatch, and thanks to @damienchickenspawn, I’ve spent the entirety of “Cloak and Dagger” taking notes for another Party-swap What-If comparison, with the Mighty Nein vs. the Ripley encounter this time. Same rules apply: setting the M9 at an equivalent level (15), ignoring the variability of dice rolls, and accounting for the fact that they had time to prepare spells in advance of the encounter, although less was known about the situation this time, so the spell choice couldn’t be as specific as it was with the Kevdak fight. Fair warning: it gets very long under the cut. Ready? Let’s go.

First off, I have to admit this encounter comparison is much harder to map, because it had two minor combat sections leading up to it (sinking Ripley’s ship and the air elementals on the Glintshore beach). I’m going to assume a similar outcome in combat time and hit points lost, but the resources spent on them is harder to predict due to the differences in characters. At the very least, I’ll assume either Jester, Caduceus, or Caleb has spent their eighth level slot to cast Control Weather like Keyleth did to speed up the airship’s travel, and since they wouldn’t have access to the Keyteor option, the M9 might have just left it up to the airship and basic ranged attacks (maybe a Fireball or two) to take out the boat. However, I will note that following these encounters, since Caduceus often has Prayer of Healing prepped, the M9 would have been able to get a quick bit of healing in with only ten minutes spent. If they aren’t in an immediate chase scenario, this is what they often do between a chain of encounters.

Now, the meat of this episode is the skirmish with Ripley and her crew on the island. From what I remembered of this fight from the first time I watched it, I recall it being messy as hell and very rough, especially with the giant burst of damage at the start and Ripley popping in and out of combat for most of it. That memory wasn’t incorrect, and I’d forgotten a few elements, like the high level wizard henchman and Orthax joining the fight near the end. With VM, BY FAR the biggest MVPs in this fight were Keyleth and Scanlan. They were the most able to spread damage across multiple targets, Keyleth did some significant damage to the enemy wizard, Scanlan fucked up the whole enemy side with a Reverse Gravity, and they were responsible for keeping their teammates awake and in the fight. The DPSers did their best, but they weren’t focusing fire enough to whittle the numbers down, and Ripley was off the field the majority of the battle and so couldn’t be taken out in order to break the ranks like with Kevdak. Keeping that in mind, let’s first take a look at what the M9 would bring to this encounter as a 15th level party, ranked in order of “Here To Fuck Up Anna Ripley’s Shit.”

1) HOLY SHIT Y’ALL, THE CLERICS. If VM had had their cleric available, it probably would have meant a significant tide turn. The M9 have two, and at 15th level they have so much available to them. At their level, Battle Mercy Jester has access to some wicked damage spells like Blade Barrier, Harm, and Fire Storm, and they both have access to some very powerful support spells: Heal, Heroes’ Feast, Antimagic Field, and (this one I think is particularly up Caduceus/Taliesin’s alley, since it provides major buff and debuff benefits, as well as being one of those spells that would particularly piss off the DM) Holy Aura. Advantage on all saving throws to party members, disadvantage on all attacks against affected party members, and if any fiend or undead (like say, Orthax) hits an affected target, they have to make a Con save or be blinded until the spell ends. Yikes. Even if it was one of the clerics who expended their eighth level slot for Control Weather, they still have a spare who can pull out some powerful tricks along with everything else they already have access to, and thus would probably end up carrying this fight the most.

2) Caleb. While not quite as pivotal as the clerics in terms of MVPing this battle, ol’ Widogast is still scraping in at only two levels below archmage at this point, and he could have some nasty shit available to him, depending on what he takes. 15th level wizards could pick such beauties as Delayed Blast Fireball, Crown of Stars, Prismatic Spray, Reverse Gravity, Forcecage, Antimagic Field, Feeblemind, and Sunburst. Again, accounting for those possible options alongside everything else he already has access to, he could do some absolutely monstrous damage to the enemy team. Of course, aside from all of the fancy new toys, the other part that puts Caleb at second place in terms of enemy hazard is the good old classic, Counterspell. I’ll get into more detail below, but that’s a big one.

3) Fjord. Our sailor boy will be nine levels into warlock and six levels into paladin at this point, with a paladin oath picked out, Aura of Protection (both Fjord and any ally within 10 feet automatically gains a bonus to a saving throw equal to Fjord’s CHA modifier, which would be a big help against that gunpowder trap at the start), and access to second level paladin spells. Like I said in my last party-swap, Fjord’s just super unpredictable as a fighter. He’s got melee capabilities, arcane spells from both himself and Star Razor, and now a fair reserve of divine casting as well. He’ll have a good bit more Lay on Hands to spread around (30 hp!) as a backup to the clerics, as well as proper healing spells if needed, AND he’ll have access to two Channel Divinity options once he picks an oath. He’s going to have a lot of tools at his disposal to attack or support in whatever way is needed.

4) While the spellcasters really were the pillars of this battle for VM and that would probably hold true for the M9, our DPS girls still deserve some love. Veth would be dealing a Fireball’s worth of sneak attack damage, would have access to 3rd level spells, and could use her mage hand to give herself advantage against a target (if Sam remembers it XD). Beau will have proficiency in ALL saving throws and will likely have bumped up her WIS to boost her Stunning Strike DC. And at this point, Yasha will basically be unkillable; with access to Relentless Rage, Persistent Rage, and Rage Beyond Death, she would need to take her hit point maximum worth of damage in a single hit to be killed outright even at 0 hp. If it’s true that she has recently won her wings back as well, Yasha is going to be a terrifying Valkyrie of unstoppable force.

So, with that summed up, let’s take all that and measure it against the primary factors that made this fight so challenging and memorable for Vox Machina.

The Gunpowder Trap

Before initiative even started, VM took a big chunk of damage from the gunpowder trap, which I don’t think the M9 would have been able to see coming either. Alarm spells were set up so there would have been no surprising them except on the off chance Caduceus popped a Detect Magic on approach and noticed them; possible, but unlikely. So odds are placed on the M9 taking the initial damage as well. Beau and Nott have a good chance of escaping with no damage, since they have Evasion, Caleb can automatically halve damage with his Ring of Evasion, and Yasha has advantage on Dex saves so she has a better chance as well. However, Fjord, Jester, and Caduceus have no benefits in this situation and aren’t particularly dextrous, so they’re likely taking full damage at the outset. Fjord has Aura of Protection which would give him a +5 bonus to any save, as well as any allies within 10ft, but this trio is still the most likely to get hit hardest. Luckily, they’re on the upper half of the M9′s hardiness scale, so while the damage isn’t small, it doesn’t put them in danger yet. Then combat begins properly.

Ripley

Probably the most problematic feature of this combat was Ripley’s Blink spell and VM’s inability to pin her down or figure out what was going on with her. Her crew were mercenaries, so if Ripley had gone down they likely wouldn’t have continued to fight, but as long as she was up, the fight continued. Watching the episode again, it seems like Matt lingered over the moment where Ripley cast the spell, as if waiting to see if someone was going to counter it. Scanlan was the only one capable of doing it in VM, and whether Sam was distracted, Scanlan didn’t want to burn the spell slot, or some other reason, he didn’t counter it. I feel like the M9 is more trigger happy with the counterspells; they can afford to be, since both Caleb and Fjord can do it, and potentially even Veth if she takes it as one of her 3rd level spells, making the chance of the Blink getting countered much higher. However, even if Ripley had managed to get it off, the M9 have knowledge VM didn’t. Both Jester and Fjord can cast Blink themselves and might be able to recognize it much sooner. That would mean fewer turns wasted hunting for an invisible Ripley and more time concentrating on her allies, or else clustering up near where she would reappear and holding actions ala the Inevitable End fight. Still a difficult element to work around, but better for their action economy and it makes Ripley more predictable. She does have Cabal’s Ruin (the awakened version I think), so she would be able to halve damage on one spell and boost her damage, but that’s only once per short rest. She could manage one huge damage burst if she used her turn, action surge, and the cloak charges all in one go, which could be pretty bad for a single party member.

The Adds

There aren’t nearly as many mooks involved in this fight as in the Kevdak one, but they pack plenty of punch to make up for it. The mage was by far the biggest threat out of all of them, being capable of casting up to 7th level spells. Both his Prismatic Spray and Chain Lightning did significant damage to Scanlan, Percy, and Keyleth, making the situation more frantic with VM constantly trying to stay on top of their low HP. The Goliath fighter ended up being a non-entity because she didn’t even get a hit off. The gunners did their share of damage, but were probably the lowest threat on the field. As with the Kevdak fight, Caleb would be highly beneficial in doing collective damage to groups at a time (Fireball, Web of Fire, maybe a high level spell like Prismatic Spray or Delayed Blast Fireball if he wanted to clear them quick), similar to how Scanlan used his wand of fireballs to hit the gunners. The ability to counterspell or otherwise incapacitate the mage is also vital, since he dealt out a good portion of the damage, so I could see Caleb’s attention being split there. The big damage spells the mage dished out did require Dex saves though, so the same likelihood of success rules from the gunpowder trap still apply. Like Grog, I could see Yasha focusing on the goliath fighter, while Beau and Nott could get up on the gunners. How well this all goes depends on how well they can shrink the damage from the mage, while making sure the clerics are up and in the right position to heal and support.

Kynan

Kynan is a unique but significant factor in this fight. He did a fair bit of damage, knocked out Keyleth once, and kept Vax distracted for a number of rounds trying to talk to him. In the big picture, I question whether Kynan would have become a factor at all if this was the M9. He ended up with Ripley because Vox Machina, or primarily Vax, rejected him, a little harshly but not maliciously or without reason. The M9 can be blunt and even rude with NPCs, but I don’t see any of them taking a similar approach in that situation. They toted baby Kiri around with them through several dangerous locations and gave her a knife. They had Calianna sign a gag waiver and said they weren’t responsible for her dying if she tagged along with them, and generally they’re inclined to make friends at the drop of a hat. Even if someone like Kynan did approach them, they probably wouldn’t respond in the same way Vax did. However, since I’m using the battle scenario as it happened, we’ll say Kynan is there regardless. Of all the M9, Caleb or Jester seem like the most likely people to pause and try to talk him down. On the one hand, Caleb has a higher charisma than Vax and Jester is Jester, so they’re more likely to persuade him sooner to stand down. On the other hand, they’re also less likely to sacrifice their whole turns to devote their attention to him, so that might hurt their chances. If they fail, he plays the same role in the fight, with perhaps a higher chance of being more ruthlessly targeted by Yasha and Fjord, who don’t think favorably of betrayal.

The Terrain

This was a relatively minor factor in comparison to those above, but the rough terrain, the big crater, and the damage taken from the glass did eat through movement and HP. Unavoidable in most cases, but can be mitigated by most of the members to whom it would matter. Beau’s a zippy girl, so she can reach any point on the battlefield at the cost of some HP. If Yasha has her wings, it becomes almost a non-factor for her. Poor Veth is the only one really stuck with it, but she’s ranged, so even then it wouldn’t hamper her too much.

Orthax

Funnily enough, Orthax was probably the least significant factor in this fight, at least on a broad scale. He came out a few rounds in, the sunlight lowered his AC and put his attacks at disadvantage, and he didn’t get many shots in at VM. He has the ability to cause PCs to attack each other, but it’s a rechargeable ability, seems to only affect melee attacks, and doesn’t sustain. He did take two death saves off of Percy and made him waste his last bullet on friendly fire that might otherwise have gone to Ripley, but in a macro scale he wasn’t much of a threat. Against a party with two clerics and a padlock, he’d probably have an even harder time. Just flick a Banishment his way, or a solid 5th level divine smite, and he ceases to be a problem.

Conclusion

I think the most important factor of the M9 coming off well in this fight would be the ability to focus fire in the right places, ensure the mage can’t deal major group damage, and to protect their clerics. They’ve shown a reasonable ability to pull that off if they’re on a straight battlefield and all together, and as long as their rolls for saves and counters aren’t abysmal, I could again see the M9 coming out of this encounter much more smoothly than VM, their higher percentage of spellcasters being the biggest factor in tipping the scales. Not to mention, even if someone dies, the M9 are almost always ready for that situation. VM had just come from Ank’Harel, a large city, and the M9 make it a point to get stocked on diamonds whenever they have some downtime. Plus, at this level, they would have three party members capable of resurrecting a fallen teammate, with Caleb using his 14th level Transmuter’s Stone ability. The fight against Ripley and her crew would definitely require more brainpower, and depending on their luck could be just as difficult if not more so than it was for VM, but with the right rolls on their side, their wide variety of unpredictable tools, and plenty of healing available to keep the team up, the M9 would probably have this fight in the bag too.

(Side note: I wonder if the outcomes of these two party-swaps I’ve done have more to do with the players being more experienced and accustomed to working as a unit after all their time playing together, or if it has to do with party composition and how Matt constructs the encounters to challenge them personally. I’m sure both factor in at least a little, but I might have to do VM in one of the M9′s fights at some point just to see. There’s a lot fewer to pick from, since the M9 are still just catching up to the levels we met VM in, and projecting forward is easier than taking levels off of the characters, but I guess we’ll see. If you read through this chonk, I hope it was worth it!)

#critical role #the mighty nein #vox machina #party swap fights #i was bored and this was a good way to kill time

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renaer-is-allegedly-hot · 4 years

Text

session 13

wow i’m really out of it tonight lmao uh some highlights bc these r rlly atrocious:

adam shit himself and vomited over the dwarf in our basement

fought some ppl n killed; gotta hide six bodies

pregame !

Jacob n dom r talking abt other dnd campaigns

Jacob rigged explosives somewhere

They need souls to open coffins or smth

I REALIZED MY MIC IS MUTED SO THEY CAN’T HEAR ME SING THE GOLDEN GIRLS THEME SONG THE WAY MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER DOES HAHAHAHHAHA

Thank you for being a friend

Bum bum bum bum

Travel round the world and back again

If the truth be told you’re a friend and a confidant

Etc

Jacob explaining his eye scratch

I’m just sitting here singing the golden girls theme song

Tunnel vision in smash

I’m just renegading while they talk smash

Jacob wants to home alone our house the next night we have

Immovable rod is abt 3ft long

Last time on dnd asyna heard a window break

Roll initiative

Aerana and theo roll 22

Asyna rolls 21

Adam 13

Cel 6

Asyna was waking everyone up

Halfling size ballista ? In our turret ? Maybe

Ooh trebuchet is an interesting sans font

Aerana is going first

Double dash downstairs

You hear stuff on the first floor making noise; you and theo get to the second floor about to go downstairs

Theo in master bedroom double dashes towards where I am

Asyna

In watchtower, asyna's gonna try and do stuff from above ? Maybe .

Proposes turning into a hummingbird

Spike growth ? Grows spikes

Also creates rough terrain

In front of the door

Oop they're speaking goblin

Goblins

2d4 damage for each 5 ft they move

Some of them were able to get inside the house but still slowed down

Adam

Will cast cantrip

Thaumaturgy to boom voice 3x louder than normal "WHO DARES ENTER MY HOUSE PLEASE LEAVE WITHIN THE NEXT TEN SECONDS AND YOU WILL BE SPARED ,,, PLEASE"

Intimidation check

Lmao a 7

Entire house booms; everyone heard it but like effect?

Adam sleeps naked

Cel

Right in front of door to hall on second floor

Aerana

2 squares away from action at back of house

Theo

Also goes for pantry, same place generally as aerana

Asyna

Starts downstairs

Gonna turn into ape and try and make way down side of building as ape

Down p much by next turn

Goblins

Apparently being eaten up by spikes

Should I make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich I'm kinda craving

O shoot I gotta run soon for medicine

Adam

Dashing

This is just slow running in a dream

Cel

Base of stairs ?

Also heading towards pantry

Aerana

Bust in

Momentarily frozen

To the right next to basement hatch r two hulking figures covered in thick dark fur; kinda pointy ears, look kind of like goblins and v tall like easily 7ft

Big mauls

Bugbears

Can I fight?

23 to hit, 7 damage to closest one

The goblins trying to move the thing but not working well

Theo

I'M GONNA RUN TO GRAB MY MEDS

Slashes at the one aerana didn't hit lmao I rlly just did that I'm breathing

15 barely misses

Goblin blocks lillian's strike

Asyna

Srsly should I make a sandwich

On first floor outside

Bro my headache went to the other side of my head wtf

Gonna go through a window

Follows them in and attacks a bunch of them

Bro I kinda rlly want a sandwich

17 and 18 to hit, 6 and 4 damage ?? 10 damage ?? 10 damage for both ??

KILLS BOTH OF THEM N I C E

Bashes their heads together

I'm making a sandwich

"it's a very forceful kiss"

Third one readies self

Lashes out at asyna, misses

Goblins

R also gonna try and attack aerana and theo

12 damage to theo

I'm eating my sandwich

One of the middle ones is gonna go for asyna, hits, 5 damage

That was a good sandwich might get another one

Adam

Bro I kinda want another sandwich

Gets downstairs w max speed and peeks in, sees aerana and theo and two dead guys by window and two more living fighting an ape

Looks at theo

Bro again I kinda want another sandwich

Makes the one that hit theo make a wisdom saving throw

Did not make it, hideous laughter

Mans can't stop laughing, has to make wisdom saving throw each turn ig

Adam has to tell a joke

Comes down and looks at bugbear, locks eyes

Our party walks into a bar . But most of us walk under it

What

Is this a short joke ?

I don't get it yikes

Panicked dom laughing

Tells us to not hit the guy laughing; save him for last

Bonus action uses cutting words on the one aerana is fighting; "fuck you"

Cel

I still kinda want another sandwich

To clarify my sandwich was like half

I think yesterday or smth I like hit my foot lol and I did the thing where I compose myself rlly quickly to ignore the pain and up my pain tolerance and it left a mark but like it literally doesn't hurt so not saying I'm upping my pain tolerance but one day if I ever got like idk shot or smth I'm not gonna have a reaction

Cel hits the one that's doing better w a spell and then does shortbow 25 to hit, 12 damage

"how do you want to do this?"

Takes an arrow right through his brainstem and the arrowhead goes out his mouth

Aerana

Wasted insightful fighting, didn't hit

Scream of frustration that I missed

Theo

Takes bow and tries to hit, 13 misses

Asyna

Do I rlly still want another sandwich

Hits on one roll, 7 damage

Guy is barely alive

Goblins

One that tries to attack aerana misses, guy on ground is now up, guy attacking asyna hits, 11 damage

Adam

Cutting words on guy that just got up "oh you're finally awake"

"ever heard of the one where the guy got back up"

Goblin rolls nat20

Cel

22 to hit, 9 damage

Stabs him, hurts

Aerana

"next time remember it"

If an ally is within 5 ft of you you get sneak attack

If u have advantage

Don't need advantage if another enemy of the target is within 5 ft of it

Start over

When rogues have advantage, get to add sneak attack

Can add sneak attack when u don't have advantage if

One of allies is within 5 ft of you

And if u don't have disadvantage

Theo

Gonna try for the bow again

Going for the one asyna's fighting

8 damage

Guy is on last legs

Asyna

Kills

Fun fact apes have been known to rip off the faces of their enemies

Rips face off then gently puts him down

Still two goblins left

Goblins

Try and run

Attacks of opportunity from celandine, theo and aerana

Nat20 from cel

Theo and aerana miss

I've missed like every hit what is this

14 damage from cel

They're still able to get away

Asyna makes attack of opportunity

I still kinda want another saaaandwich

Neither hit

Adam

33 across board for both for sleep; both fall over and hit ground, asleep

Adam goes outside and looks if anyone is watching outside their window

Looks like one of our neighbors is at their window out of the apothecary

Uses infernal legacy to cast darkness, blocking their darkvision

Puts it between fallah's house and bodies

Then drag the bodies

Adam is kinda sweaty n exerted

Aerana is watching ot, asyna takes one body cel adam and theo take the other

Theo is rolling damage

Cel binds their feet first and adam prepares sleep

Theo rolls 13 damage and one dies, other 15 and also dies

Why is my eye glitching lmao

Maybe I still want a sandwich

What time do I need to be up tomorrow wait

Idk lmao

We've brought our bodies in, the night is ours

It's 10ish at night

Adam's gonna sleep in jeans

Adam was not naked in combat ?

Or maybe he was

Adam doesn't wear pajamas so he had pants

Sleeping downstairs shifts for the night

Adam takes first shift

Adam is sweating a lot, feeling a little odd; feels super weak and cold and feels a little sick like he might throw up

Constitution saving throw

"can I feel this coming and give myself bardic inspiration?"

"uh . Sure"

"hold it in hold it in hold it in"

Check to see if he can make it to the bathroom

"boi that's just nasty" adam wakes up someone ? Adam

Adam wakes theo up

"you must be real glad I'm wearing pants right now"

Rolls nat1

Adam vomits onto theo ? Vomits into theo's cloak

Adam becomes violently ill

The key eventually comes out the butt

A 4

Able to makes way down hatch towards bucket by ot

Vomits on ot

"ot is, like, weeping"

Adam is weakened

So adam shit and hurled

Adam stomps it down the drain ?

Next morning

Adam comes down with the key

Adam's exhaustion is cured after long rest

We're not talking to adam today

Adam sets key on table "did you wash that first" theo / adam slowly takes key back

Adam casts sleep on ot to kind of relieve him

Cel goes to jones, one of the goblins informs cel that jones is out ,,, just out

Cel can't find jones

Home alone-ing the house now ?

Aerana

House was in state of disrepair before

Spike spell tore up front of house, lots of windows knocked out from fireball explosion and were damaged during fight

Bad to a little bit worse

Theo 20 for investigation

Random ropes and bricks, nails, wooden planks

Intelligence check w advantage

19, sets up a few different traps; two swinging brick traps when a door is opened + simple nails stuck into plank so would hurt if someone stepped on it

Asyna 9 for investigation

Cel sees jones putting a bunch of keys into the lock

Jones can't find the key to open his door

Jones is maybe gonna get some stooges to remove the bodies

10 dragons

Henrietta is gonna dump em

Astigmatism lmao

Back at the manor

Adam is done cleaning

Ot asked if he could be set free, adam says "this is my fault, I got it buddy"

Adam is going to the apothecary down the street

Walks up to counter, fallah is there

"heyo what's poppin fallah"

Takes out potion of necrotic resistance

Adam says he bought it at sea ward, roll for deception; 12

Why am I sO LETHARGIC ALL THE TIME !!!

Offers adam 50 gold

Pushes for 60, 10 for persuasion check

Just takes it for 50

Fallah gives medicine, smells like oregano

Adam goes in for a hug, hesitates then retracts

Goes to bardic school to talk to master

Yava is there

12 insight check

Yava is usually v composed but today

Yava is an elf so is like bruh wdym u trust me after knowing me for like a month

Asks abt house security

Adam just straight up tells her he's in trouble w the xanathar guild and is asking for glyph of warning spells ?

Persuasion check, gives self bardic inspiration

11, yava agrees to help

She's willing to do it for free

Can cover 8 entrances to the house

"I'd b willing to do this but adam u must b more careful"

Adam tells her he's dealing w a large sum of money - half a million dragons

There was half a million dragons embezzled ?

Yava thought it was just a rumor

Adam is idiot

Adam asks yava if she wants in

Idiot

#i talk a lot about sandwiches in this one #sn #13

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split-n-splice · 4 years

Photo

[Chapter Guide]

22. Welfare Check – 4

Maybe he should have followed Team Go’s example and left. It was in his best interest to honor his accomplice’s wishes after all, and maybe that was Drakken’s first impulse when he reached for the key in the ignition. So why he didn’t listen to the voice of reason was anyone’s guess.

He was really pushing his luck by being perhaps the first customer of the day to set foot in Buckley’s Brew. As the door swung shut behind him, he began to question the severity of his recent gambling habit.

A stocky henchwoman-to-be in a witch costume was hissing something unfriendly to Shilo, who looked close to socking the fellow barista for whatever snide things that fell out of her mouth. The witchy blonde’s eyes cut to Drakken, and she curled her lip and turned away to tend to an espresso machine or some such. Through the window to the kitchen, Drakken could see Buckley at work preparing more confections, blessedly indifferent to his entry. Shilo, however, was not.

Her glare seared through him as she planted her palms on the countertop.

The little shop was decorated for the holiday with paper garlands of bats and ghosts and tiny pumpkins at the center of each table. On the counter stood a figurine of an ugly little green witch hunched over a little cauldron of Halloween candy. Drakken helped himself to a chocolate drop, popping it in his mouth as he feigned interest in the chalkboard of specialty coffee, seasonal delights, and made-to-order dishes. He refused to search for strudels in the display case.

His accomplice did not offer a greeting. If this was how she treated the average customer, he wouldn’t feel too bad if she was soon sacked, but he knew he was just a special case.

Her scowl didn’t relent even when her fellow barista swept by behind her, depositing a witch hat adorned with long sickle feathers atop her head. Somehow Drakken doubted mentioning her hair had the same uncanny iridescent sheen as rooster’s back end would come off as a compliment, so he kept the thought to himself.

The jingle of the bell behind him urged him to hurry up, and Shilo grinding out, “What do you want?” helped him decide.

“Waffles and a mocha, please,” Drakken answered politely. He’d never gotten a chance to have his breakfast earlier as he’d forgotten it to get cold in the wagon. She didn’t budge when he pulled out his wallet and held out a note. He raised his brow at her, wondering quietly, “Am I banned?” He should hope not.

“No, but you aren’t welcomed,” she grumbled. She snatched the cash from him. “It’s your head.” She nodded curtly toward the table in the furthest corner where they’d sat the day he’d introduced her to Buckley a month ago. It was a good spot, Drakken decided. Just out of sight of the window to the back, therefore out of sight of the owner.

He’d hoped it would be his accomplice to serve him, but he didn’t complain out loud when it was the blonde witch. At least he had something hot to eat and something sweet to sip. He watched the storefront for good measure, ready to jump up and hide in the restroom should Team Go reappear with reinforcements.

Another customer came and went, ordering joe to go and a devil’s food muffin that made Drakken seethe, but he kept his mouth shut and ate his breakfast.

A sudden grip on his shoulder startled him, but he whipped his head around to see raven hair and jaded eyes and he breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t Buckley. “What did I tell you?” Shilo scolded under her breath. “You’re going to get yourself caught.”

“Oh, you know me,” Drakken tried to chuckle as he sat back to peer innocently up at her. “I’m not very good at following rules.”

“Well, work on it.”

He winced back from the bite in her voice and the weight of her glare. Villains broke rules – didn’t she know that? He eyed her, and the hand still gripping his shoulder in particular, and decided that maybe her rules were best not broken if he could help it. “I just want to make sure you’re—,” he began, but she cut him off with a snort.

“I can handle myself,” she reminded, and let go of his shoulder with a small shove. “You need to stay out of my way. Worry about yourself, will ya? Honestly – you’ve got a lot of nerve to get on my case and then do something this stupid. I thought you were supposed to be a genius?”

Drakken shrank a little more. “I know you’re capable,” he muttered, poking at his half-eaten breakfast. He grunted crossly and stabbed at a side of sausage. “What do they want with you anyway?” That was a dumb question to ask. Maybe he wasn’t such a genius after all.

“They’re not taking me back,” grumbled his partner in crime, crossing her arms.

“Not without a fight,” he agreed, and her frown lightened just a little while.

She glanced toward the door before plopping herself down in the seat across from him, yanking off the ridiculous feathered witch hat and slumping over the table with her face buried in her arms. He almost called her name after a minute, but she heaved a weary sigh and pulled her head up a little to glower over to the other barista before glaring back up at him. “I blame you.”

Drakken scoffed. “For?”

Her jaded eyes narrowed on him, and she shook her head, refusing to explain with more than a simple, “Everything.” She reached across to steal a sip of his mocha then, and he kept his complaint trapped behind zipped lips. She could probably use the caffeine more than him – but for heaven’s sake – she could go get her own.

“They do want me to come back,” she confirmed. “But if they were going to force me to go, they wouldn’t be wasting time seeing how I’m doing. I must be up to snuff so far. They haven’t drugged or cuffed me yet. Anyway.” She took another sip and surrendered his mug. “If they planned on taking me, they wouldn’t have brought Dad. All the seats are taken. I guess this was my last chance to change my mind before big brother wraps it up on damage control and sweeps me under the rug to pretend I was never their mistake.”

“What?” Drakken uttered around a mouthful, tilting his head. There was something sad in her eyes, and he pulled his stare away to frown at the smudge of black lipstick on his mug. He turned it away from him to sip from a clean edge.

“Big brother doesn’t want a bad apple like me spoiling their reputation,” she explained. “Big brother…you know. Glo—I’m not gonna say it.” She shook her head and sighed grimly. “They’ll probably keep an eye on me through my brothers for a bit, but if I can fool them too that I’m just… this. Some ordinary girl in a small town. Then they might let their guard down and take their eyes off me. We might be okay.”

We. He liked the sound of that more than he ought to. “You sound optimistic,” Drakken noted.

“They have bigger fish to fry than lil ol’ me,” she assured.

“That’s a relief.” He watched the swirling remains of his mocha before knocking it back.

“They’ll never know what hit them,” she agreed with a smile. A genuine smile, one that met her eyes and lifted some of the bleak exhaustion there, if only for a moment. She stood then, making a motion for him to pass her the mug. As she was offering to fetch him a refill, he shook his head and stood as well.

“I think I’ve pushed my luck enough for one morning,” he sighed and looked out toward the storefront. There were still no superheroes in sight, but he wasn’t so gullible as to believe they had given up so easily. They’d be back. It was only a matter of time. “When does your family leave?”

“Dunno,” she admitted. “I guess the twins wanted me to take them trick-or-treating tonight, so they’re bound to turn up eventually to make me spend quality time with the family.” She shrugged and rolled her eyes.

“Try the north end of town,” advised Drakken offhandedly. “It’s the rich neighborhood.” He didn’t know why he bothered sparing that information. Let the little brats get paperclips and tasteless candy – what did he care?

A new early-bird customer was just coming in then. Shilo’s idle time was up. Drakken sidestepped out of her way as his accomplice donned her witch hat and cleared the table.

“Thanks for the tip,” she chirped flippantly, and as Drakken turned back to utter something confused in reflex, she smirked and pushed his wallet into his chest while pocketing a bill from it. “See ya around, hon.”

The last bit didn’t sit well with him, but Drakken let it slide before it could trip him up. She was smiling and bubbly and sweet now despite her exhaustion and bottled bitterness. It wasn’t a show of endearment – it was all just a show she put on for customers, right down to the smile she flashed him as he took his leave.

Drakken grit his teeth and forced himself to return to the lair, despite how compelled he was to keep a watchful eye out for the superheroes, anxious his irreplaceable accomplice might be taken away at any moment, against her will or otherwise.

He tried to bear in mind there was certain protocol he ought to be following anyway. He had more important things to do than loiter around town, trying to stalk agents of Global Justice decked out in outlandish harlequin suits – things like barking orders at the henchmen to put the lair under lockdown starting with the garage, and ordering the whole lot of them into the depths of the subterranean hideaway and out of sight from probing spies, and to be on guard for a raid just in case. If Global Justice by any chance had followed Team Go to the oasis, there was the risk he’d caught their eye. Peculiar complexions like his had a way of acting as a red flag for illicit activities gone awry, after all.

But as Drakken sat down in front of the CCTV system, hands folded under his chin as he vigilantly watched the perimeter in grainy black and white feed, an inkling of doubt trickled in, watering a wry seed as he stewed. After some time, his nerves began to settle, and he sat back, weighing the likelihood of Global Justice considering a blue individual a threat or even a suspicious character on Halloween of all days.

He shook his head. He had too much idle time to think.

So he summoned a henchman to the chair to watch the security feed and left to occupy his buzzing mind with something more productive than staring at bulbous screens which only served to make his eyes burn. Let them be the watchdogs and watch the monotonous feedback – what else was he paying them for?

Though he was on the verge of scrapping it for parts in his frustration, Drakken returned to the cannon. It didn’t distract him for long, but it kept him busy long enough to finish it. He got as far as pulling on a mask and giving it a quick coat of spraypaint to emulate the warning stripes of a yellowjacket.

The mask didn’t do him a whole lot of good when the ventilation system in the lair left a lot to be desired, and he abandoned the project before the paint could finish dripping.

Dizzy from fumes, Drakken quickly retreated to his personal quarters and tugged off the mask, gasping for a breath of air yet to be polluted by the aerosol, though it still lingered on his clothes. He tossed his coat over the back of the couch to shed some of it, turning his attention to the kitchen next as he staved off the phantom sensation of standing on the roof of the van with a heavy weight on his shoulders—

It was only noon, he noticed. That was fine. Enough time had elapsed and there’d yet to be an alarm tripped. It was safe to relax a little and call it lunchtime, though his stomach was still knotted up with nerves. He made himself a grilled cheese sandwich, reminding himself he lived alone. Mostly alone. He only unthinkingly made a second because he was hungry, even if it was cold by the time he forced it down.

Neither were satisfying. No amount of butter or cheese could fix that.

He sat hunched over his kitchen island, frowning into a new cookbook that had yet to offer anything that tickled his fancy. Chocolate was an infallible go-to, but chocolate alone wasn’t festive enough. Devil’s food still left a sour taste in his mouth anyway. Pumpkin pie, maybe? No. While he could bake a mean pumpkin pie, the art passed down to him from his grandmother, it was too mundane. It wasn’t like he had anyone to impress – it was just that he must have made a hundred in his twenty-odd years of baking them.

He flicked on the television and melted into the couch, hopeful the leading cooking channel would inspire him, but it was droning on and on about decorative icing on sugar cookies in the shapes of bats and witches and pumpkins. Bored to sleep, he nodded off until a change of pace signified the start of some competitive whimsical cakes designed like graveyards or brains.

Drakken sat up with a groan at the sight of strawberry glaze drizzled over the brain-cake and flicked off the television. It was just a touch too realistic for his taste. He wasn’t in the mood to see desserts disguised as organs.

Pieces floated together as he watched the stars behind his lids as he rubbed his stinging eyes. A moment later, he dove across the couch to fish his notebook from his jacket to jot down three words most certain to be delectable, just in case something came up and he got complacent. It sounded good in his head. It was certain to be leagues better than any revolting red velvet cerebrum.

He didn’t need the worthless cookbook. The itch to toss it in the garbage didn’t feel too unlike disregarding a map on a road trip, but he couldn’t pry his fingers from the spine to drop it. He knew exactly how to make what he craved though – he didn’t need someone else’s instructions to guide him. Still, he grudgingly returned it to the shelf with half a dozen other useless cookbooks like it. His thoughtful mother had bought it for him anyway. He couldn’t just throw out a gift.

As deliberately as he tried to keep his eyes down, he still caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall. It was half-past two.

If they weren’t already, those rotten superheroes were bound to be on her any moment now. The lair was in lockdown – but he needed ingredients if he was going to concoct anything to cure a sweet tooth.

He felt his breath leave him and with it his resolve to stay safely holed up in his hideout.

Drakken shrugged on his coat – it had aired out enough – and stuffed his notebook back in the pocket. He knew exactly what he needed. He didn’t need to make a list.

He still stood before the mainframe in the lab to write it out anyway, giving himself an extra minute to change his mind before lowering the lair’s defenses and ordering the henchman at the surveillance desk to keep a sharp eye out or he’d have his head served on a platter.

Drakken was soon coasting through town yet again in the restored station wagon, as the van was still too eye-catching with its damaged side – not to mention it was suspicious enough to the average civilian on a good day. He was minding his own business anyway – just popping into the Smarty Mart. He didn’t need to be secretive.

How he found himself on the wrong side of town – well. He couldn’t play stupid. He was compulsive. He could hardly help that. It was a villain thing.

Knowing he was playing with fire, Drakken kept his eye out as he cruised down Main Street, spotting his lone accomplice soon enough. Given the direction she was heading, she wasn’t heading home. He had to guess she was on her way to the library, her usual respite from the weather, only this time she was likely avoiding the family he happened to know still had a jet parked on the front lawn at her address.

He was bound to be on edge for as long as Team Go was still in town. Paranoia grew by the second as he waited for the dreaded heroes to jump her. She wasn’t far from Buckley’s yet. Her brothers could be lurking anywhere, lying in wait.

She was confronted, but it wasn’t by lousy do-gooders.

Drakken recognized the brown dog from a block away, and he pulled to the curb as Shilo was cut off by the traitorous deadbeat with the leash. He narrowed his eyes and drummed his fingers on the wheel, muttering under his breath his hopes for karma to catch the dog boy once and for all, especially once the steaming punk advanced on her. Granted, the temper might have been justified if Shilo had in fact let his dog out to run away, plus she’d nearly pushed him from the second story earlier.

It didn’t change the fact that Dr. Drakken rooted for her at a distance.

Ignoring the urge to intervene against his better judgment, he watched a dispute unfold. It started with some indiscernible shouting and flailing arms, the boy shaking the leash at her. And then Shego – Shilo – was shoved. She pushed back with twice the force, the boy stumbling over his own shoelaces, which lead to the dog being hastily tied to a tree as Shego goaded him on. To Drakken’s disappointment, the sucker was lead around the nearest building, out of sight.

He almost envied the canine’s front-row seat. The dog barked furiously, lunging and straining at the stifling leash tethering it to the tree. A minute or so passed, and Drakken almost put the car back on the road to go investigate for himself.

A weight lifted from his chest then and he exhaled his relief as Shilo strolled out unscathed, her hair only slightly out of place. She chucked something into the air – a pair of shoes – and smoothed out her hair as the sneakers swung on the powerline above. She rubbed her knuckles, patted the mutt happily wagging its tail, and continued on her way.

The backstabber limped into sight toward his dog a moment later, his arm hanging limp and possibly dislocated. If he wasn’t too caught up grieving over it, he might have continued shouting at Shilo’s back.

Drakken couldn’t help smirking. “Attagirl,” he muttered, giddily pleased she’d served payback herself. Proud as he was, the mugging reinforced a healthy respect. His own combat skill wasn’t his sharpest asset – she’d proved that to him not long ago in an enlightening lesson he wouldn’t soon forget – and he knew she could easily do just the same to him.

Hell, she could do worse to Drakken than dislocate an arm or steal his shoes if she wished. He put a lot on the line, trusting the bad apple as he did. She could rob him blind, turn everything of his for her own profit, bend him to her will for her own gain – well, maybe she was already doing that.

He grimaced and tried not to consider he was being taken for a fool, even as he felt incredibly foolish heading for Smarty Mart with the idle curiosity if she fancied cheesecake. He shook his head. So what if she didn’t? He baked for himself. He wasn’t obligated to share his personal provisions, and he didn’t have to impress her with desserts that put Buckley’s to shame either.

It was a good thing he’d made a list, because he found himself distracted with each new aisle. He tried contemplating a meal plan, but his attention was stolen time and time again by enticing arrangements of candy and decorations. He grit his teeth and tried his damndest to turn a blind eye to the festive merchandise, but his willpower caved eventually, and he was soon perusing holiday goods while staving off the fear of his accomplice alone at the mercy of her brothers.

Before he knew where his feet were taking him, he stood in the costume aisle. This late in the game, pickings were slim. It had to be luck he even found a cape.

He didn’t mean to inspect the silky black garment lined in red, and he especially didn’t mean to drop it in the handbasket – though he justified it knowing someone was bound to come up behind him and pluck it from the rack for themselves if he didn’t. He wondered, as he tossed a pair of overpriced fangs in the basket as well, if he could pull off a satin cape on a regular basis, but he halted the thought in its tracks before he could contemplate how many caped villains had been made a laughingstock. A cape was a ridiculous addition to his wardrobe – he was only wearing it for tonight, and then it was going in the office fireplace.

Thanks to his dillydallying and candy inspection in Smarty Mart, what should have taken him no more than twenty minutes from entry to checkout had taken him an hour or more. Still, he was compelled to blame a heavy overcast for the gloomy evening.

He was out of his mind, Drakken soon concluded as he made a beeline for his accomplice’s neighborhood. He couldn’t convince himself he was only passing through on the way out of town, not when he had to drive so far out of the way to do so. He didn’t even make it to her street before spotting Shego in her gear along with the whole gaggle of harlequin-clad boys.

Gripping the wheel, Drakken fixed his glare dead ahead, away from the superheroes toting bags and buckets like all the other kids swarming the streets. He made for home, back to his lair.

He had sightseeing to do tonight, but first he had to get changed.

#The Company You Keep fic #Drakgo #Drakken #Shego

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winterknight1087 · 4 years

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Flower from the Fae (ch 45)

Chapter Title: Fight…RUN for Your Life!

Summary: Virgil likes plants, but when he goes to investigate a plant his friend, Remy, tells him about, he doesn’t exactly check out the plant. Little does he know that the handsome man he meets there is a fairy who is about to challenge the world Virgil knows.

Word Count: 2227

Chapter Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, sympathetic Remus, cursing glass shards, throwing of glass, implied deaths, knocking unconscious, weapons being used, injuries

Chapter Pairings: LAMP, Demus, Sleep/Picani

AO3 Link My Writing

A/N: this is chapter 45, so read the first chapter here!

Remy felt the ground shaking angrily, as the surrounding area lost its magic. They weren’t sure how far out it extended, but the growling scared them a bit more than the loss of magic. Virgil stood up and looked at his father, who was now looking down the hall where the roar came from.

“Hey, for such a great hunter, you seemed to have forgotten that I have a familiar,” Virgil stated, with that insufferable smirk. “And she didn’t get her wet food for breakfast because of you lot.”

“ROOOOOOAAAR!”

“You little shit,” Nero spat, turning his gun on the witch.

Virgil reacted faster than Remy had ever seen the witch move. The boom of the gun echoed as Virgil flung himself to the side. A jar instantly shattered, spilling what looked like sand out onto the floor. Nero shot again, this time, hitting a metal sheet on the wall. He didn’t have time to try again as Virgil shot in close. The witch’s eyes were glowing as he ripped the gun out of the man’s hand.

Nero managed to throw the witch to the ground. The man dropped down and started fighting over the weapon. To the group watching this in pure shock, it was just a wild blur of limbs and noises of pain whenever a limb made contact. The weapon seemed to decide that it didn’t like this game and spun out of the fight, not that the two fighting noticed.

“Doesn’t. Matter. What. You. Do. You. Lost.” Nero spat, struggling to pin the witch.

Virgil finally managed to scramble out, thanking all of those damn memories. “Counterspell. Can’t counter something that doesn’t happen, bastard. Magic is alive right outside of a circle of fairy circles, prepared to contain the damage of this.”

The witch gave his friends a quick glance before he turned and ran down the danger hall. Nero froze, processing what the man had said, giving Virgil a moment head start. His face went pale as some unbridled, some inhuman scream left the hunter. He immediately ran after the witch who was ruining his plans, not even sparing a thought about the beings he left behind in the lab.

The moment Nero was out of sight, Remy struggled to their feet and ran to the table. Their eyes looked over the stuff before locating the dagger. It took a few attempts to finally grab the dagger, then a couple more attempts to hold the dagger in a way where they weren’t trying to saw through the zip tie with the dagger’s handle. Still, they were rewarded with their wrists coming free after the attempts.

They took the dagger over and freed Dee and Roman, managing to do so before pounding footsteps announced that they had company. Dee tried to shift down but found that his magic was blocked. Blocked, but not gone he noted. Hissing, he broke a glass jar and pulled a shard out for a makeshift weapon. Roman took the easier path and quickly searched for the gun. Both took immediately to the fight as Remy cut Logan free.

They copied Dee and handed a shard to Logan. “Go keep your prince safe, Nerd.”

Even without glasses, Logan did not need telling twice. He threw himself into the fight, focusing on any being that wasn’t a yellow or red blob. Next went Remus, who was able to cause enough chaos to give his friends a small advantage while Patton and Emile were freed. With the last of them free, Remy finally joined the fight.

Virgil blindly ran down halls, holding a metal sheet he hadn’t even noticed picking up as he dodged not only the murderous bastard chasing him but also dumb traps. Only good thing was that the bastard had to dodge the traps as well, though he still had the advantage as Virgil triggered a lot of them.

“Where do you think you’re going, filth!”

Virgil bit his tongue as he frantically tried to plan what he was going to do next. So far, his overall plan has gone well, but it wasn’t like he could scope out the evil lab beforehand. He just had to work with what he had. He just had to find something to use as a weapon and hope his friends could withstand his father’s minions on their own. Sure, it would be much harder without magic, but Virgil couldn’t concentrate on that right now. He just had to keep the brilliant hunter away from the minion hunters and hope.

So he continued to run, using the metal sheet as a shield, occasionally shouting something back to hear a furious scream behind him. That was until he ran into a hall that had at least ten beings collapsed on the ground. Virgil wasn’t sure if they were alive or dead, and he really didn’t want to know either way. A swear behind him forced him to move forward, stepping over the bodies, mentally wondering how long this mess was going to haunt his dreams if he survived.

Back in the lab, the fighting was bad. Remy was gasping, wondering how much more their group would be able to stand. It was clear that they were all suffering from the lack of magic. Sure, they had managed to knock two or three out, but that still left like ten of these bastards. Still, it was either fight or surrender, and Remy knew that none of them planned to surrender.

So, they continued to fight a losing battle. They continued even when Dee was thrown into a table and didn’t jump back up immediately. They continued as they threw themselves in front of Patton who was trying to keep Emile safe. They continued as Remus started throwing jars and vials and whatever else he could grab at the hunters. They continued even though they saw no possibility of winning this thing.

“ROAR!”

The fight suddenly changed as a large panther entered the room, pouncing one of the enemy hunters. New terror-filled Remy and they were just about ready to give up. They weren’t going to fight a freaking panther! Yet, they noticed, as they continued to fight the hunters, that the panther didn’t attack Logan, but rather jumped over him to the enemy creeping up behind him. The panther ripped the enemy in front of Remy and threw her into the wall. Remy took a frightened step back as the panther turned to look at them, many, many teeth visible in that mouth. Then they noticed what should have been obvious.

A green and a purple eye.

“Galaxy?!” They demanded.

The panther tilted its head, licking its lips, before turning and pouncing a hunter about to try their luck at knocking the prince out. They barely enjoyed the thought that Gala’s full powers seemed to be working before they were struggling against a new enemy. OK, maybe they were just very slightly distracted, wondering how the hell the familiar’s magic was working while theirs wasn’t. Yet, that didn’t matter when there was someone trying to kill you right in front of you. Still, having the large animal helped. Remy just kept going, slashing at anything that wasn’t one of their friends. While they weren’t going to focus on the little glimmer of hope, not until the end.

Seven left.

A large book appeared over the enemy’s head and the person crumpled. Remy looked at their partner in shock as Emile looked at them in fear.

Six left.

Patton jumped out of the way and managed to trip the hunter. The hunter fell straight into the mess of sand and glass. Patton suddenly wondered if extreme amounts of sleep sand could send a human into a coma…

Five left.

Remus was standing over his hurt husband. Any and everything he could grab was being thrown. He didn’t see the hunter who was hit square in the temple by the jar of rose petals.

Four.

Gala had one coming after her. She did not like this game, but her human needed her, and she was big, and she could do something. She saw the human pull the trigger on the metal thing. She scrambled away and heard two loud noises. When she looked again, two humans were on the ground, clinging to wounds.

Two.

Logan and the hunter managed to slip a bit down the hall. The fairy knocked the hunter against the wall. Something started to make a whirring sort of sound. The fairy managed to get out of the way before the hunter was blasted with some dark blue gas. Logan felt his heart pick up, knowing his partner was running through these booby-trapped halls, mentally begging whatever higher being listening that Virgil didn’t end up dead in these halls.

One.

The sound around Roman had slowly gone down but he didn’t have time to glance around to find out why. The gun was empty and the hunter’s knife kept trying to take a piece out of his wings. Roman managed to twirl around and send the butt of the weapon into the hunter’s head.

Remy watched as Roman managed to knock out the final enemy. They didn’t even get to let out a breath before Gala grabbed Remy’s jacket and gently yanked them. They turned to the giant cat. She moved to the hall and looked back at them. It took Remy a moment to understand what Gala was trying to tell them.

“Lock whoever is still alive in the cells. Gala and I have a witch to go save.” Remy called before following the panther.

****

That is a very big knife.

Virgil tried whacking Nero away from him with his shield, while also dodging the knife. He was probably only still alive due to copious amounts of adrenaline running through his body as the two fought. He just had to end up in a dead-end. He dodged another strike, before swinging a fist into Nero’s side.

“Aahhk”

Virgil found himself on the ground and quickly rolled as the knife came down. He saw an opening and darted past Nero back down the hall. He was exhausted and hasn’t run this much in… actually, he’s never actually had to do this much running. Yet, he heard the frustrated growl behind him and his body decided that it liked running. It was better than the other option.

Scrrrrrreeeeeech!

Virgil sensed the incoming trap and immediately dropped to the ground. He didn’t dare look up and see what had awaited him as he army-crawled forward, waiting for the screeching metal above him to stop. A hand caught his ankle, causing Virgil to scream in fear as he kicked at the being. One solid kick landed, and the hand released him. He scrambled to his feet and ran, feeling something embedded in his arm, as a reward for not waiting for the trap to finish.

Nero managed to corner Virgil once again, huffing from the struggle. Virgil threw a fist, but Nero caught the wrist and twisted it behind the witch, pinning him into the corner properly. Virgil continued to squirm, only to be flung into the opposite corner and repined as a new mechanism started, having been triggered.

Virgil’s wrists were properly pinned and a knife was very close to dangerous spots. He shut his eyes as a new mechanical roar started up, attempting to match the blood roaring in Virgil’s ears. Both blocked out whatever Nero was gloatingly saying to his son, which Virgil was grateful for. The pain Virgil kept waiting to feel didn’t come. Instead, the grip on his wrists loosened and let him go.

Thump.

Virgil collapsed onto the ground and saw the man crumpled with several darts sticking out of him. Virgil grabbed the knife and scrambled away from the bastard, waiting for some movement. His mind started counting the seconds as his heart hammered, waiting for the bastard to stop pretending and come after him. Yet, after getting to a hundred, Virgil crawled over and touched his neck, searching for a pulse.

Foiled by his own traps.

Virgil’s body crumpled as his nerves finally relaxed. Anyone who saw him would have thought his mind had finally broke as he started laughing hysterically as tears spilled from his face. Finally, his body stilled as he tried catching his breath, shocked to still be alive after this entire fight.

“VIRGIL!”

Virgil blinked and suddenly Remy’s terrified face was in his field of vision. The witch sat up and saw that a giant panther sat watching. Virgil noted that there was a small tendril of magic tightly wrapped around the familiar, showing that Magic itself was doing what little it could to help them by allowing the tiny kitten to transform into a giant beast. Virgil’s attention was yanked away from Galaxy as Remy frantically started looking over his injuries. They were rambling about stuff that Virgil really couldn’t process right now. Stuff about him being an idiot and not to scare them like that again and honestly Virgil really kind of wanted Remy to shut up and let him breathe…

The counterspell.

Virgil’s heartbeat started racing again. “We need to get back to the lab, now!”

“Vee, it’s OK” Remy tried to calm the man down.

“Save it.” He said, moving to the panther. “Gala, lead the way back, please.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @that-one-nb-kid, @hufflepuffxfox

#Flower from the Fae #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #deceit #remus #tw cursing #tw death #tw fighting #tw glass shards #tw injury #tw weapon #Sage writes

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cincinnatusvirtue · 4 years

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Alexander III “The Great” Part 2: Where one empire falls, so must a new one rise...

Alexander the Great and the Macedonian army crossed the Hellespont into Asia Minor in 334 BC. The composition of his army at this point was primarily Greek but did include some non-Greeks as well. It consisted of a mix of cavalry and infantry. His cavalry included light cavalry mixing Greek and Thracian horsemen. While his elite cavalry was the heavy cavalry known as the Companions of which Alexander always lead into battle personally, leading his royal contingent, it was made of the Macedonian landed nobility which was personally quite loyal to the king. This was combined with Thessalian heavy cavalry from Central Greece as well. His infantry included missle and melee infantry ranging from the phalanx or phalangists to his hoplites and hypaspists and various armed skirmishers both Greek and Thracians such as the peltasts.

The Macedonian army was faced by the Persians who called on forces from all across the empire. Persians, Bactrians, Scythians, Sogdians, Syrians, Indians and even Greeks as mercenaries. They too had infantry, cavalry, archers and even armed chariots. Memnon of Rhodes, a Greek mercenary commander in Persian service advocated for a strategic withdrawal and scorch and earth tactics which would stretch Alexander’s supply lines and deny his forces food and supplies to forage or “live off the land”. However, the Persian satraps of Anatolia saw this move as both undermining to morale and not worthwhile because the scorched earth would be their own fertile lands, hurting long term commerce. Their contention was to fight the Macedonians head on before they ventured too far into the Persian Empire.

The first major battle, was the Battle of Granicus fought in May 334 BC in what is now western Turkey along the Granicus river, as was often the case Alexander would fight many of his classic battles along rivers. For his part this was strategic, the Persian armed chariots could not be effective on muddy river banks where mobility was slowed. The Persians knew the Macedonians would attempt to cross the river and hoped to slow their advance their by bunching up the Macedonian forces. The battle started with a feint attack on the Macedonian left, commanded by a trusted general, Parmenion who commanded the Thracian and Thessalian cavalry. The Persians shifted many of their forces to meet this attack but in doing so weakened part of their line, Alexander personally lead his noble Companion cavalry into battle in a flying wedge formation. In the melee, Alexander personally killed a number of Persian nobles but was nearly killed himself by one until a timely intervention by a Greek general named, Cleitus the Black severed the Persian’s arm clean off with sword still in their hand, saving Alexander’s life. The Macedonian center now had time bought and moved its phalanxes into place across the river, supported by the bulk of the army now pushed back the Persians, the speed of their advance surprised the Persian forces who after some tough fighting retreated. The retreat happened before they could commit their forces, namely the Greek mercenaries to battle. This resulted in the Macedonians killing their fellow Greeks in a general massacre, viewing them as a traitors for having served the Persians. Granicus was a resounding Macedonian victory, their first major one over the Persians.

The battle opened up Anatolia to the Greeks who began conquering the lands. Some Persian satraps in the next several months surrendered their territory without a fight, hoping to spare their damage. Alexander sometimes let Persians stay in their positions of power so long as they supplied his army and swore loyalty to him. Gradually, Alexander worked his way along the coast to neutralize the Persian naval bases that could cut off supply lines back to Greece. He also visited the city of Gordium which contained the fabled Gordian Knot which presented a riddle to many in the ancient world, the complicated and varied tied knot was a puzzle that required challengers to unravel it, the one who solved the puzzle was said to be destined to rule all of Asia. Many had contemplated how to unravel the knot but failed. Alexander’s solution was simple, cut the knot with his sword.

From Anatolia, Alexander hoped to advance into Syria and threaten the Levant. It was at this point that the Persian Shah, Darius III personally lead an army to counter the Macedonian threat. Darius’s army actually ventured behind the Macedonian army hoping to cutoff its supply lines and trap it deep in Persian territory with no hope of reinforcement. Alexander did however rise to meet Darius. They did do along the Southern Anatolian coast along a small river called Issus. The Battle of Issus was fought in a narrow ground between the mountains and the sea, the ground was chosen by Darius to limit the mobility of the Macedonian cavalry which had been so effective at Granicus. Darius’s army was as typical of the Persian forces was multiethnic and once again they relied on Greek mercenaries, arguably their best troops which Darius placed at the center with his royal bodyguard. The Macedonian advance across the river was slowed by the river itself, the Persians fortifying their bank of the river and the Greek mercenaries hard fighting. However, Macedonian hypaspists, tasked with guarding the phalanxes weak and vulnerable flank and rear managed to break through a line in the Persian-Greek forces. This allowed Alexander to see an opportunity to strike unexpectedly at the heart of the Persians. Taking his Companion cavalry, Alexander drove his force on a right flank maneuver and then wheeled toward the Persian center, straight at Darius. The speed and fury of the Macedonian charge at the Persian King of Kings completely unnerved Darius and he fled in his chariot. This collapsed the morale of the Persian center which also fled. On the left flank of the Macedonians, Persian cavalry held back Parmenion’s left flank cavalry. Ever the observer and adapter to the situations on the battlefield, Alexander would wheel his forces to hit the Persians now exposed rear. This surprise attack combined with the holes being punched in their mercenary forces and the flight of their king lead to a rout of Persian forces. The Macedonians pursued and killed off many retreating Persians, gaining yet another decisive victory. In the wake of this, Alexander captured members of Darius’s family including his wife, mother and two daughters. Alexander held them as prisoners though they were by all accounts well treated during their captivity. Darius himself retreated to the Persian capital in Babylon.

Over the next year or two Alexander consolidated his gains in Anatolia and advanced down the Syrian coast, taking the Levantine cities either by surrender and sparing them destruction or in the case of Tyre and Gaza having to besiege them and after many months finally captured both. Alexander then advanced to Egypt where he was proclaimed Pharaoh. He also visited a temple where the Egyptian priests declared him the son of their supreme god, Amon Ra. He introduced the Greek presence into Egypt and the Levant, something that was to last for centuries with the Greeks serving as Pharaohs of Egypt until Roman rule, with a Greek-Egyptian named Cleopatra being their last famed ruler, a descendant of the Ptolemaic dynasty that was established by one of Alexander’ s general, Ptolemy in the wake of Alexander’s death. Something new was happening due to Alexander and the Hellenic presence in Egypt. Greek and Egyptian culture to a degree synthesized and Greek culture was being spread to Persia’s various provinces. He would also found the first of many cities bearing his name, Alexandria, now one of Egypt’s major cities. It would become a famed center of learning and culture throughout the ancient world, blending Greek, Egyptian, Persian and other traditions into one center. This was to become a hallmark of Alexander’s rule and legacy, as he would spread Hellenic culture to other parts of the world and increasingly it would blend with the local culture becoming a hybrid of East meets West. Reflected in art, religion, currency, governance, commerce, day to day life and military tradition.

Meanwhile, back in Greece the mighty Sparta which had remained silent during Alexander’s Asian and African adventures finally rose up to challenge the Macedonians, Alexander nor his father directly fought the legendary Spartans and the question was raised who was mightier Sparta or Macedon. Antipater, one of Alexander’s generals who stayed behind in Greece would answer that burning question. The Macedonian army crushed the Spartans at the Battle of Megalopolis virtually fighting to the last man, killing their king in battle too. This subdued the Spartan rebellion and Greek discontent over taxes and Alexander’s rule in general.

Darius III offered several attempts at negotiations with Alexander as all of Persia’s western provinces and African ones, namely Egypt, were being conquered, some without a fight which was a humbling experience for the Persian Shah. His last offer at peace was to offer half of the Persian Empire to Alexander, all the Western provinces, to become co-rulers of the empire, to taken several thousand pounds of silver and gold as payment and to arrange a marriage between Alexander and one of his daughters. Alexander did seriously consider the offer and all but one of his generals argued against it. Alexander, refused seeking to have all the empire and not just half. The war would continue.

Alexander now marched his forces into Mesopotamia or modern Iraq with the goal of taking the Persian political capital, Babylon. Darius is believed to have anticipated the Macedonians would take a more direct route through the deserts of central and southern Iraq which with extreme heat and lack of supplies would drain their army. Darius however, once again realized he was dealing with no ordinary for. Alexander ever the clever strategist took his army on an unexpected route through Northern Iraq instead, nearing mountains that would shade or cool his forces from the intense heat of the deserts to the south. This caught the Persians off guard and Darius was forced to instead move his own army northward. Some Persians figured the Tigris River which the Macedonians numbering shy of 50,000 men would have to ford was too deep and strong. However, Alexander’s army did cross and was now moving toward Babylon on the east side of the river. Darius decided to find ground of his own choosing to meet and defeat the Macedonians. He found it on a relatively flat plain east of modern Mosul, Iraq at a place called Gaugamela.

By choosing an open expansive battlefield, Darius hoped not to be boxed in the way he had at Issus, this would allow more room for his chariots and cavalry to maneuver. His force was estimated by modern scholars of being upwards of 100,000. It included Indian war elephants and various contingents and mercenaries from all over the Persian Empire as was usual. Alexander however as was often the case, took an unexpected maneuver and initiative which offset the Persians. He moved his Companion cavalry from their right flank far out on what appeared to be an outflanking maneuver which deceived the Persians into thinking this was an maneuver that needed to be countered and indeed they sent a large force of cavalry from their left to meet and clash with the Macedonians. As the Persians drew their forces to mirror and counter Alexander’s deep flank, they weakened their own center as was Alexander’s plan. The deep flank was joined by his phalanx and hypaspists infantry which Alexander had gradually disengaged them from the flanking maneuver to meet the Persians center which fixed them in place. Meanwhile, the Persian chariots armed with javelin throwers advanced only for the Macedonian regiments to part forming alleys for the chariots to pass through without causing damage, before the chariot riders were killed themselves. Parmenion and the Thracian-Thessalian cavalry on the left also fixed the Persian right flank in place. It was now time for Alexander’s decisive move. The deep flank and the fixing in place of the Persian forces effectively weakened the Persian center by creating a gap which like at Issus, Alexander could strike at Darius’s jugular once more by driving his flying wedge Companion heavy cavalry right at the Persian center and split it’s force into pieces. Darius, once again caught off guard by the Macedonian deception and fury fled the battlefield, causing panic and routing in his forces. Parmenion’s left flank however was in jeopardy and just like as Issus, Alexander had to lead a counter charge to save his left from being overwhelmed which was encircled by Persian cavalry on all sides. Darius fled and evaded capture or death as Alexander had hoped, but preservation of his army was more key to the long term goals of Alexander. He attacked the Persians in their rear with some breaking off to loot the Macedonian camp before they were dispatched themselves. The rest of the Persian army fled as the Macedonians shifted their forces to left to relieve Parmenion. It was another victory and ultimately the final blow needed to defeat Darius and the Achaemenid Persian Empire.

Alexander entered the Persian capital of Babylon which he claimed to enter as a liberator, he also went onto the cities of Susa and the ceremonial capital of Persepolis which was in the Persian heartlands of modern Iran, he burned Persepolis as payback for the Persians burning Athens 150 years earlier in the Persian invasion of Greece under Xerxes. Now he was declared by his new Persian nobility Persian Shah himself and Lord of Asia, in addition to his titles as King of Macedon, Hegemon of the Hellenic League and Pharaoh of Egypt. Effectively the Persian Empire ceased to be a real force at least in the western provinces. Darius gave an impassioned speech to carry on the war in the eastern half of the empire which remained unconquered. However, his satraps, especially one by the name of Bessus had enough of defeats and retreat by Darius, they took him prisoner and murdered their Shah. Bessus was then self-proclaimed Shah but Alexander viewed Bessus as little more than an impostor, with himself as the real Shah and he considered the act of murdering Darius, the rightful ancestral King of Persia as cowardly and little more than petty and unjust, a crime punishable by death.

Darius’s body would be recovered by Alexander as he set off in pursuit of Bessus. He gave him a proper burial in the ancestral tombs of his dynasty. Alexander had respect for Darius’s position and an appreciation of the Persian monarchy’s history even if they were enemies on the battlefield. He now set about trying to consolidate a hold on his conquests through a mix of his Macedonian generals and Persians who proclaimed loyalty to him, becoming his new nobility and serving as provincial administrators. He began to administer Persia, though largely as Persia had been run, seeing himself not as a new conqueror but as rightful inheritor to the prior Persian dynasty, this admiration for Persia along with the adoption of certain Persian customs and the maintenance of Persian governors and administrators by Alexander started to cause some resentment among his generals who unlike Alexander simply despised the Persians and felt Greek traditions superior. The first cracks in Alexander’s otherwise impenetrable self-armor were starting to appear. Yet, there was much work to do, such as the capture of Bessus and the conquest of the eastern remnants of the nominal Persian Empire. Alexander’s gaze was fixed to the east to the ends of Persia and beyond, to the edge of the known world...

#Alexander the Great #darius iii #macedonia #persian empire #ancient greece #military history #military tactics #ancient world #granicus #issus #gaugamela

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