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zoropookie · 1 month

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SWEET MELODY

☆ chapter fifteen — you need help (🎂)

Even if you felt an eery aura linger in the air, you counted on the warmer part of who you know to dispel it. Beidou was always that answer to you.

It’s been a while since you and her had some time to reflect on the weight of their shared past. The bakery was too busy nowadays to fathom the concept of meeting each other’s time together, any real conversation or emotions that wasn’t over text. Finding time was a simple rarity you didn’t even know you had, even lost in your own thoughts.

“You’ve got guts, kid,” Beidou paused, her eyes stared directly at the road, unmoving even once. She leaned back, the soft shuffle of her seat and clothes breaking the silence. Expression hardly there but a small smile, you turned towards her. “Not everyone is lucky to get this far.”

You looked back to the dashboard of the car, “I don’t think I’m following, I’m sorry.”

“When was the last time you got the chance to revisit your past…say, in a more effective way?” Beidou’s smile faded, more thoughtful and pondering. “Is that letter even helping you?”

You swallowed as the lump built in your throat. “Kazuha’s voice isn’t there anymore when I read it, but it’s still his handwriting.” You tried to rationalize, even though you knew Beidou was right. This letter was the only thing you could even date back to or his voice without revisiting baby photos and videos.

“I don’t know your situation,” Beidou said, still in mere wonder. “I don’t even know if this will help you in your hunt, but there’s a reason why you won’t go through your mom’s room. Don’t want to question it. I took the job of helping you out.”

“It’s okay, you were here when I needed it the most, I at least owe you an explanation.”

“Stop doing that, you owe yourself something none of us need, at the end of the day. When was the last time someone’s ever heard you out on how you feel other than your therapist?” Beidou’s tone was rough, but with little malcontent.

“I feel like that’s where I should put it anyway, all the meaty things,” You lowered your head. “It doesn’t take anything except my thoughts away, which was the point, I think? I don’t know…I think it’s better than letting someone else handle that baggage.”

Beidou didn’t answer you right away, allowing the silence settle between the both of you. A low hum of the car’s engine filling what was left of their thoughts. When she finally made out her words, she spoke quietly, almost contemplative. “You’re a very kind person to me. The least I can do for you is listen to what you have to say. It’s not like anyone else has the thought to.”

You didn’t know much about what people around you thought, having been so nestled in your own head that everything else you had going on seemed too much to ask from people. So as you began to hard focus on your thoughts, you began feeling the weight of grief settle over you. A heavy fog of regret, what’s been lost along with the heart you had, sharp and twisting in your wake, sensations that made it harder to forget now that it was back to the surface.

Your eyes welled, brain sending sharp signals to your fingertips, wet tear ducts, heart clutching in ruin. “Kazuha asked me…once she died if I wanted to leave her room alone or look through it so we could keep things in it. Looking at her room was really painful, but it was the way she left it and I didn’t want to change it. My mom really liked painting and would always paint every photo she took of us, even when the both of us wouldn’t pay attention to the photo. In those moments, mom would find strength to raise us again, even when she was still dying.”

Beidou reached over, hand finding yours on the console and giving it a squeeze of support. “We left it the way it was. I can’t go in that room ever again, not while she’s not there.” Your words poured out in liquid babble, unable to control your running lips. “I lost most of my forevers.”

Beidou squeezed at your hand ever so slightly after pulling up to her home, anchoring the weight of the situation with just a sympathetic sigh. “You’re too hard on yourself, kid. It’s disappointing,” She steadily said, “I just hope this tape makes you feel better.”

“Tape?” You blinked your wet lashes, looking up. You had to admit, your heart started sinking.

“Come inside.” Beidou could only answer with, opening the car door and locking it once you exited.

You weren’t a frequent guest of Beidou’s house, mainly because Kazuha was the sole one to come over here, but when you did have the access you venerated at the work. The home stood at a more narrow street and it was painted with a navy blue, almost black, the coating of the home standing proud and alive with the weathered fading giving it a story to tell. She walked you through the uneven path of cobblestone, moss lurking and steadily growing in the crevices.

Leading to the porch, a broad and sturdy platform that could have easily been the bow of an ancient ship dated back from centuries creaked under your feet. You entered the room to Beidou’s home, looking in amazement at tacked up world maps that were aging gradually in the living room. “Wow…” You couldn’t help but drawl.

“Like it? Things didn’t really change in the past few years, just got older.” She met in front of the shelves after setting her things down on the couch. Shelves crammed with books extending floor to ceiling, spines of the tomes cracked, faded. She took out a box, labeled with big red letters something you couldn’t exactly make out, but became ‘CONFIDENTIAL’ once she got closer.

“No, yeah! It looks amazing! Now I know why Kazuha always used to come here.” You chirped, admiring the work that was done compared to when you were last here. You sat down on the soft couch, your heart full in your body, but you didn’t know if it was from anxiousness or general expectancy.

“Here,” Beidou said, her eyes meeting yours with a more serious outlook. “Me, Kazuha, and a few other friends made this time capsule in high school. It was time to open it up, and…none of us wanted to touch his stuff, so we wanted to give his tape to you. He recorded it a long time ago, just thought maybe they’d help you remember some things.”

Your breath caught in your throat, fingers trembling while you reached your hand out to open the now cleaner box that was probably buried. You looked in, there were multiple tapes that he put in this box, some looking more wear and tear than others.

Fingers grazed against the plastic of the tape, with the words in your brother’s handwriting of his name. Beidou moved the old cassette player sitting in the corner for you to put it in. With a heavy heart, you picked up one of the tapes and entered it, deftly sliding it into the player and pressing play.

The TV lit up automatically, a moment of static in your veins, as your eyes glued to the screen. Your shoulders dropped at the familiar sight of your and Kazuha’s old school.

The camera in the moment was moving aggressively around until an unidentified voice started calling. “Kazuha, this is your tape! Say something funny!” The voice caught his attention on the screen.

His confused eyes looked around, almost expecting more of an answer. “Well, I need more than that. Give me something to make a joke about.”

“That’s the thing, it’s supposed to be on the spot!”

“I know nobody who’s able to make a joke on the spot without getting made fun of.” Kazuha replied, his soft voice ringing in your ears.

“You know damn well Kazuha has no capability of writing anything on the spot other than HAIKUS ABOUT LEAVES.” Beidou’s younger voice rang in the footage, “Leave him alone! Go find someone else to torment!” She said, her hand covering the screen.

“I DIDN’T EVEN SAY ANYTHING—”

The tape ended, your eyes were slowly filling with tears as you scrambled to take the tape out and put another one in. Each tape you watched, Beidou would make certain comments or give a laugh, letting you know of the good times they had, but all you could think about was how fortunate you were to be listening to these right now. Revelry of your brother’s successions, watching him to find a way to cope while he’s gone.

“(Y/N)! Li— listen to me,” Kazuha said in the tape, him looking at the screen while in the background there’s chaos of a New Year’s Eve party. It caused you to widen your eyes, distraught. He looked a little tipsy, his cheeks reddened in the video, but his look still remained soft. “You had a hard time tonight without your ex. You’ll be older one day. And when you do get there…realize that happiness is the most fundamental element of finding who you are. You are anything but a facade of the people who came before and after you, but an amalgamation of why you’re respected among many. Keep your dreams, keep your mind. You’re the strongest person I know…! I love you. Be that person through all tribulations.”

After that, Kazuha stared at the screen, spaced out from how much he drank at that party. But eventually someone called him over and he shut off the tape. Your body wracked into shambles, crying out after the tears built up so much in your eyes that you spilled oceans.

Everything, and you mean everything came back to you. You remembered the Sunday mornings that you two would take care of the old oak tree, you remember when your mother would join you two to bake tiny treats together, there was a rule in the home where if you wanted to have sweets you must make them yourself. You remember the laughs, the smiles, Kazuha’s joy seeing you, your mother’s joy knowing you were happy.

You remembered how soft Kunikuzushi used to be, even if it was a now fleeting memory in your heart. You had to move on.

You wailed once the tape cut off. “Beidou,” Your voice trembled helplessly, moving your body over to claw at her shirt, feeling yourself get lightheaded. “Beidou, we have to find him! We have to!” You panicked, shoulders shaking from how hard you cried. “He’s out there somewhere…he wants me to find him!”

Beidou sat there stunned as she wrapped her arms around you, who was clawing at her shirt valiantly. Steadying your shaking frame, she rested her chin gently atop your head. “Yeah,” She said, knowing the floodgates were opened at last. “We’ll find him.”

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THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.

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namisthecoolest · 3 years

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Part II - "One step forward, two steps back."

Gwyn couldn't sleep. How could she after all that has happened ? Mindlessly her hand went to grasp for the necklace but ended up clutching air instead. The tightening in her throat, that she was trying really hard to get rid of, intensified. Mind stilling didn't work and now she lay on her bed staring at the ceiling. She can't stay alone, not with her mind wandering off to places she doesn't want to go. She quickly got up and wore her leathers. That's what she has been doing for the past few months when she waked up breathless with tear stains on her cheeks and a silent scream lodged in her throat. Go up to the House of Wind and train until she's numb of the pain, both physical and emotional one. It was the night of the past years Winter Solstice when the Shadowsinger first found her training in the middle of the night trying to cut the ribbon. That was the first time they had a real conversation rather than him barking orders and teaching her techniques during training.

-------------

When the Shadowsinger landed on the balcony that night Gwyn was surprised because she thought everyone was going to be staying at the High Lord and Ladys river estate. She started apologizing when he cut her off saying he came to retrieve something he left behind. It was like any other night. Her waking up finding herself in darkness and covered in sweat. She didn't think twice before changing and headed up. Every muscle of her body was aching at first but now all is numb and she welcomed it.

"I forgot something. "

She knew he was lying so instead of calling him out she asked, "At two in the morning? "

His eyes shone amusement when he replied with, "I can't sleep without my favorite dagger. "

"A comfort to every growing child. "

They talked a little more before she asked.

"Do you sing?"

Gwyn doesn't know what had posessed her. It could either be the cold got to her head or she was so desperate to divert her mind that she clutched to the first thing she thought of. But it was a question she had in her mind ever since she had heard his title. But that's what it was supposed to be. In her mind not out in the open and especially not in front of HIM. But they were talking and she already asked it and there's no going back so now all she could do is wait for the answer.

He went silent for a second before asking, "Why do you ask? "

"They call you shadowsinger. Is it because you sing? "

"I am a shadowsinger-It's not a title that someone just made up. "

Well that doesn't answer her question so she shrugged and asked again. "Do you though.... Sing? "

He eyed her peculiarly before the corner of his lips tipped up and let loose a low sound which sounded an awful lot like a laugh. HOLY SHIT SHE MADE THE AZRIEL, SPYMASTER OF THE NIGHT COURT, LAUGH. She was still reeling from her achievement and that's why she could barely register his answer.

"Yes."

Well now she was more curious. She opened her mouth to ask more but was cut short when he corrected her techique on using the blade. Well she couldn't be of blame when all Cassian does nowadays is make googly eyes at Nesta and she said as much to the Shadowsinger, who unsurprisingly agreed. They think they are doing a great job at hiding it but are failing awfully because even a blind person could sense the heat and intensity crackling between them whenever they are near each other.

"Happy Solstice. Don't stay out too much longer. You'll freeze.", he said and left when she nodded and she went back to trying to cut that Motherforbidden ribbon knowing she won't be going back until the heaviness in her heart felt a little lighter.

That night she went back to her dorm later than anticipated. She was on her way up to the priestess's dorm halls when she stopped in her tracks when she thought she heard a familiar voice. She followed the voice to Clotho's desk where she saw the Shadowsinger slide something to Clotho on her desk. She wasn't close enough to hear the whole exchange, but she saw him nodding and then he left. She thought he was probably here for some official business and didn't think much of it. The next day she got the necklace from Clothos with a note saying a friend left it for her. For the first time in a long time the tightness in her chest loosened a bit for her to breathe freely for a few seconds. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever received. A rose pendant that shined every time it moved. So this is what Azriel was doing in the library last night. But he didn't want her to know it was from him. Why? Without thinking much of it she put the necklace on and smiled the whole day.

-----------

Fastening her hair in a braid her eyes caught the black cloak in the corner of her closet. She gulped thinking of the circumstances she and the Shadowsinger had first met and what she had found---NO NO she will not think of it. Her eyes were watering again and so she quickly got out of her room and went up the stairs. When she reached the balcony the sun was already peeking from the horizon. She stared at the sky while it changed its colors in various shades. She took a large breath forcing the fog in her mind to clear.

She had slapped him. For what? Because he had given her a gift meant for another? Fuck. She lost it when she finally processed what Elain was saying last night.

------------------

Elain was staring at something below her face. Her necklace. She smiled remembering who gave it to her and touched the rose.

"Isn't it pretty? " , she asked her still smiling.

"Yes.Very.May I ask how you got it? "

Strange she had thought. Elain and Gwyn never talked. Now all of a sudden she had approached her and asked about the necklace.

"A friend left it for me at the library. " Not the complete truth but if Azriel wanted it to be anonymous and the least she could do is respect his wishes.

"Huh, it looks exactly the same one I had returned to Azriel last Solstice. "

Gwyn's blood went cold. "What? ".She hated how her voice cracked.

"Oh... Azriel had given it to me as a Solstice present. I had returned it of course. But it looks like he found someone else to give it to. "

The necklace suddenly felt like a heavy chain on her neck. Her eyes watered from what?....hurt. The necklace that gave her solace a while ago now was the reason of her heart being gripped painfully. She stood there frozen, until she couldn't take it anymore. Ripping the necklace from her neck she shoved it in Elain's hand who took it with a stone cold face. When she whirled around to leave she came face to face with the cause of her tears. Azriel......how could he do this to her? He gave her a gift as an... afterthought? Someone who would happily take something rejected by another? Someone to be pitied? Is that what he thought of her?. Him standing there with wide eyes didn't help the roaring that grew by the second in her head. She slapped him with all her strength and fled from the spot telling him to never speak to her again.

Mor had found her outside the throne room. She took one look at Gwyn's face and winnowed her back to the library. She was very thankful for her to not question why she was crying. Mor ensured Gwyn had safely reached her dorm and took her leave.

-------------------

Gwyn doesn't know how long she has been staring at the horizon. Apparently long enough for the birds to start chirping and the sun to fully come up. Rubbing her face with her hands she groaned internally. She had lashed at him for something he was not at fault of. It was her fault. She placed her expectations too high for someone like her. A priestess who was violated in ways that cannot be undone and carried baggage more than she can endure. She thought she meant something to the Spymaster of the Night Court. She thought they had been friends after all the late night training sessions they had after the first one and the jabs they threw at eachother every now and then. She was nothing more to him but his student. What was she thinking? Of course he deserved someone like Elain- beautiful, innocent, unstained....perfect. She has to get that through her head. Even if it meant she has to press down her feelings towards him. The ones she would never dare now to indulge in. How was she going to face him now? But she has to try to make things try. After all he still is her trainer and she doesn't want things to be awkward. Determined to set things in their righful place, which also included her expectations which was too high for her own good, she took a deep breath.

"I'm the rock against which the surf crashes ~inhale~ Nothing can break me. ~exhale~ ", she whispered to herself and the world around. With renewed strength she turned around. She let out a humorless laugh and thought the Mother has a wicked sense of humor by---her thoughts came to a sudden halt when she saw HIM standing on top of the stairs, his gaze focused solely on her. She hardened herself.

"Shadowsinger."

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #nessian #nesta archeron #the night court #feysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #cassian #elain archeron #acosf #acomaf #acowar

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mmikmmik2 · 3 years

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If you were to sort the Infinity Train cast(s) into the Major Arcana a la the Persona games, which Arcana would you give everyone?

anon I had SOOOOO much fun thinking about this, thank you so much for sending me this. I sorted all the major characters, plus a few other entries, based on a mix of Arcana symbolism, Persona series character archetypes, and general vibes. I came up with answers I feel pretty good about for all but four of the Arcana. (Was really tempted to say Strength is every human character who doesn't board the train because they can handle their problems on their own lol.) This is going to be a long-winded post, so I thought I’d post just the list as an image (which hopefully won’t be too blurry!) rather than wrestle with Tumblr formatting trying to make a short list, and put a big text wall under the readmore talking more about my picks.

If this list does end up illegible, the same info is under the readmore as text! Plus some characters for Magician, Strength, Justice, and Death that I didn’t want to add to the “official” list because they’re more based on headcanon. (Although my reasoning for some of the “official” picks is pretty weak lol.)

One-One as 0. The Fool

Oh my gosh, what am I?

IT is great at fleshing out character backstories and families, so One-One at the beginning of S1 is one of the few characters who really feels like a blank slate. He's got a lot of his baggage back by the end of the season, and I think One and One-One are more similar than they seem at first glance, but S1 does seem to have been very formative for One-One and how he thinks about what he's supposed to be doing and how he relates to other people. So it does kind of feel like his fool's journey.

Alrick Timmens as I. The Magician

The magician begins the journey... by beefing it on a dirt bike, dying, and sending his wife flying off the deep end. Rip.

Alrick was an engineer like Amelia, so I could see him suiting some of the themes of the Magician, like conscious thought and manifesting ideas. His apparent playfulness and insecurity are similar to the Magician characters in Persona.

Kez as II. The High Priestess

“We can’t make this decision for you, Kez.” “You know what to do.”

I thought really hard about making Kez the Magician because just like every Magician since Persona 3, she's dumb, horny, and insecure dlkjasfdkl

(and also her showing up at the start of the story arc and being helpful but also super needy is very Magician)

But the idea of "intuition" really does suit Kez. Sometimes her intuition is as bad as her conscious reasoning, but I think that's a lot because she's so confused about what happened with Jeremy, and Morgan making Kez feel like she did a bad thing by helping him.

Tuba as III. The Empress

She made me feel like I was warm all the time.

Tuba's a mom. Sorry, this one's not that deep, haha.

Simon Laurent as IV. The Emperor

Highest number! I'm the leader now.

Simon has a lot of issues, but the one that felt the most prominent to me was his unhealthy relationship with power, authority, dominance, and rules. Another quote I considered using here was what he said in Grace's memory of meeting Amelia: "I never thought I'd get to see the Conductor with my own eyes. He's perfect! Everything finally makes sense again." In his emotional crisis, he thought everything could be fixed just by the existence of a huge, scary, powerful, male authority figure, even if they weren't doing anything helpful or informative.

Atticus as V. The Hierophant

I like to think that our stones are sturdy and handsome, like the Corgis that crafted them.

Atticus is a figure of traditional authority who deeply loves the history, society, and culture of his people. He often provides spiritual wisdom and encourages Tulip to get out of her own head and engage with the world around her. Also in Persona, Hiero is the Dad Arcana so it's very funny to me (a) to make the little dog be Hiero and (b) that the little dog really does have the strongest Wholesome Dad Energy of the whole cast.

Jesse Cosay as VI. The Lovers

Don't tell me what to do. I'm not going to be a part of anything like this, on or off the train.

This was my first and easiest pick lol, Jesse is sooooo Lovers. Like, the focus on choice and personal values and relationships? Yep, that's Jesse. It works on an "actual meaning of the Arcana" level and a "vibes with the Persona characters" level lol... popular, upbeat, and having such an identity crisis.

Lake as VII. The Chariot

I'm my own person, who is getting off this train!

I don't know if Chariot captures all the ways Lake grew over the course of S2, but I feel like they had the most externally focused conflict of all the IT characters, which suits Chariot. They've been fighting to stake out their personhood from start to finish, and they took action and used their willpower to achieve that goal. Also they have at least a little jock energy which is a prereq for Chariot tbh.

Frank as VIII. Strength

I dunno, I kinda imagine him as a simple man and easily underestimated, but with a lot of heart. The Cat may say they're keeping things casual but I don't think she'd take him with her on her private vacation unless he had some kind of inner toughness that would let him stand toe-to-toe with her.

Morgan as IX. The Hermit

I need to be alone right now. Kez... maybe... we can talk later.

I like that Morgan embodies toxic self-isolation and stonewalling and rejection, but that she seems to be moving towards the positive aspects of Hermit and taking some time to calm down and process and think. I like it when characters can embody the best and worst of their Arcana.

Tulip Olsen as X. The Wheel of Fortune

We have to adapt to the changes in our lives. It's the only way things can get better.

Tulip has a lot of themes and conflicts, but this one is a clear standout as the most important. I also like it for Tulip because, while she has to handle a lot of difficult and even traumatic situations, some of the change that challenges her isn't as unambiguously bad as e.g. the death of a loved one. It really is just change itself she's struggling with, and that's Fortune babey. Also, from the perspective of the train itself and lots of other characters, by reversing Amelia and One-One's positions again and changing how One-One administrates the train, Tulip is the one giving the wheel a spin. That's fun.

Lucy as XI. Justice

One of my friends once described the Justice characters in Persona as "the ones the player character is ultimately accountable towards", and I like to think of Lucy as kind of being that for Grace (...since Hazel has excused herself). Lucy is the Apex kid we see Grace interact with the most, the first Apex kid Grace admitted to herself that she had harmed (see Grace very briefly showing distress and then regret when Jesse points the harpoons at his face and she stops him), and the first person to confront Grace when she came home in The New Apex.

Min-Gi Park as XII. The Hanged Man

I don't know if we'll sell a single album, but we'll figure that out as we go.

Min-Gi sacrifices his "realistic", "sensible" goals for a more personally (spiritually, even?) enriching life that's beyond his control and outside of the expected norm. Like the Hanged Man, who dangles foolishly upside-down, but as a deliberate choice and in a state of serenity and enlightenment. I also think this arcana suits a reading of Min-Gi's character development as starting off going slower as a way to stall and live in denial, but then going slower with deliberation. Compare his arrogant insistence on refusing to act in The Astro Queue Car to his patience and care in The Castle Car and The Train to Nowhere.

Jeremy as XIII. Death

This isn't about the death of his family - I'm thinking of his reluctance to admit his number was going down. He cared about Morgan and Kez, and it's possible both that he may have really wanted to stay with them despite his exit and that that might even have been a healthy choice - they're real ass people with feelings and everything, not holodeck characters. But I also think Jeremy was using his life with them to avoid moving on out of that fog (because it was hard and it hurt and he didn't want to think about what that would mean for him and Morgan) and Morgan was enabling him.

Ryan Akagi as XIV. Temperance

Maybe the experience is the point. I wasn't just rushing you. I was rushing myself.

I think this one speaks for itself. Also, the other quote I considered putting here, from The Art Gallery Car: "You told me I can't appreciate the song without taking in the rest of the album. I need the whole package."

The Cat as XV. The Devil

I always do the right thing.

Honestly, this is one I really wasn't sure about. The Cat isn't a great pick for a lot of the meanings of Devil. She is definitely consumed by material comforts, and the short-term rewards of ignoring her issues at a long-term cost, though. This is more of a "vibes with Persona characters with this arcana" pick... Devil characters tend to start off being somewhat exploitative or even antagonistic towards the player character, and gradually showing a more conflicted and genuine side.

Amelia Hughes as XVI. The Tower

There's a hole in the universe where Alrick used to be.

Amelia's life is defined by catastrophe and upheaval - both those she's suffered and those she's inflicted on others.

Hazel as XVII. The Star

I'm going to keep loving you like you're still here.

When I think of "The Star" as a small but inextinguishable light in the darkness, Hazel seems like the obvious choice. Although we left her deeply wounded, I think she still has a flicker of her hope, faith, and purpose.

Grace Monroe as XVIII. The Moon

But it's unfair for me to tell you how to understand yourself. I mean, I don't even fully understand me.

Grace is probably the most complex and dynamic character on the show and hence one of the most difficult to place. I considered Empress, Strength, Devil, and Judgement for her... I think ultimately, lies and illusions are the most unifying theme of her character arc. Also, from a Persona angle, her pursuit of status out of a lack of true self-worth reminds me of Ai and Mishima.

Alan Dracula as XIX. The Sun

Brought together by the majesty of a superpowered deer!

I'm sorry dkjasfklads this is largely because I thought it was funny to have this completely inexpressive dead-eyed deer as Sun akfk but also... like... it kind of works okay!!! Think about the genuine joy and comfort and positivity he brings to Lake and Jesse (and me)!

The New Apex as XX. Judgement

"Then what are we gonna be?" "Guess we'll have to figure it out?"

This is kind of a Persona mythology gag again because of Judgement being a group social link near the end of the narratives of P3 and P4, when the protagonists have pierced through the lies and actually figured out who the villain of their game is and are ready to really start making progress.

0 as XI. The World

Ah, train does it again!

It's an ending and the completion of a journey, but also the beginning of a new one. And the world is literally what the passengers receive at the end of their train journey. Welcome home.

#infinity train #infinity train spoilers #protagonists of IT #Anonymous

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caffeinetheory · 4 years

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Safe House [Rewrite]

It is finally here, I hope you guys like it as much as the original. with the writing changes I have now it didn’t feel right to just continue so I have decided to start from the beginning again with little tweaks here and there

(don’t get used to notes in front, it won’t be the norm I promise)

AO3 link

The weather outside was perfect as Mari skated down the street. Early enough that the sidewalks were mostly hers, as she sailed down the short strip to her second home. Pulling her phone out of the pocket of the black and blue jacket recently finished she fished the headphones out and got ready to check the upcoming events for the week.

A lighter work load greeted her but a slight frown threatened to grace her face as she saw the anniversary coming up followed by a League meeting. Always a fun combo. It had been what five years, or was it seven now? The time right after still feels like a fog and maybe it is better that way. The silver ring that slightly moved in the wind on her chest gave her comfort. He wouldn’t stand for her to woolly in self pity, not anymore. It brought a slight smile to her face, in a way he was still with her after all.

The League check in though was going to suck, it always did. It didn’t help that it was so close to a sensitive day for her. Sure it got better over time but the mourning still hurt, just a little less each year. She wasn’t a fan of the League or their treatment of certain people. The occasional check-in was a necessary evil though so she was able to keep her life as free from that life as she could now. She could prove she wasn’t a threat, share some information and answer some questions then she’d be free to go back to everyday life.

Mari didn't have much time to swerve to miss the confused looking red-head in a letterman jacket in the middle of the sidewalk. He seemed to be checking his phone and didn’t see her either. Thank Kawmi, she had good reaction times, uttering a quick “pardon,” her accent coming out slightly as she continued down the street. She glanced behind her just double checking he was fine, and focused back on the space in front of her. Phone now placed back securely in her pocket, only the headphone cord sticking out so her music continued as the nursery came into view.

Secret Garden Nursery, it was her own little place that started as a joke. Sure the creation Kawmi holder doing things in the arts made sense, you created new ideas in a field like that after all. Something didn’t feel right about pouring her whole being into fashion after everything. Her life was a wreck and the only thing that kept her from being in bed all day was some plants on her balcony. Dumb as it was, it gave her a sense that she could help something... keep something alive.

She was spiraling again, a shake of her head and the jingle of the door greeting her as she unlocked it brought her back to reality. That small feeling of control and needing a new start was all the push she needed. Sure she still did designs and kept baking like her parents taught her but they were hobbies. Who would have guessed having Tikki for so long gave the side effect of a green thumb? The whole getting too cold and falling asleep isn’t as great but beggars can't be choosers after all.

Not the point, now she had her own little garden of sorts. Mari was able to quickly establish a little niche for herself and got enough business to keep her afloat but not more than she could handle on her own. She liked to work by herself in the shop if she could, after all if she was alone in the store the Kawmi in her care could come and exist somewhere besides her flat.

Speaking of Kawmi, the one who started it all for her came zipping out of her messenger bag. The red companion began flying around the store front, taking extra time by the blooming flowers. Mari‘s soft laugh filled the room as she watched Tikki enjoy herself. Her own jacket folded gently to not mess with the fresh stitching revealing a dark grey, practically black, t-shirt with three colored strips around the torso. If you looked closer it was actually five and a shirt that was clearly taken care of. A light grey apron was tied around her waist and as she checked her ponytail making sure it was high on her head and tight.

Tikki was once again by Mari’s side as she finished putting her stuff away in the back.

“Ready to start the day,” she got a hum of approval as the Kawmi flew around her head.

The storefront was soon filled with soft music that she hummed as she began her rounds. A watering can in hand Mari made her way down rows of flowers, some blooming and some still growing. Next was the succulents, a spray bottle in hand as the song changed to a more upbeat pop song. Next on the list was trees. They were quickly becoming a staple, mini trees were something people liked to buy and she loved to grow them. Last to water were the herbs in the hanging pots around the outer edges of the store. The last of the plants watered for the morning meant it was time to start doing stock of the seeds and checking up on orders.

A pen sticking out of her mouth Mari went down the list of orders on the computer screen. It was a light week. Just the regulars getting their weekly arrangements for loved ones, two plant pickups and an email from Ivy talking about taking over for a few days. Nothing out of the ordinary and perfect for a week with as much baggage as this one might take. Bless Ivy for insisting on helping out and always seeming to know when she was needed. Mari’s train of thought was broken when the doorbell chimed to alert someone was coming in. In her surprise she stumbled to catch the falling pen and greet the newcomer.

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Tags

Safe House:

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @18-fandoms-unite-08 @persephonebutkore @vixen-uchiha @mycupisbroken @mystery-5-5 @abrx2002 @dawnwave16 @dur55 @weird-pale-blonde-person @northernbluetongue @theatreandcomicfreak @crazylittlemunchkin @dorkus-minimus @bamagirl513 @7-sage-7 @synnesstra @tired-butterfly @elspethshadow @casual-darkness @aegyobutpsycho2 @k-poplunardreams @heinrode

Roy/Mari:

@jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @gimpedmercy

please let me know if you want to be tagged or no longer want to be tagged! I fully get not everyone will want to be anymore or any reason, just let me know and I’ll take care of it!

#safe house #safe house au #safe house rewrite #maribat #My writing #my wrting #look at me writting again #crazy #ao3 link #cause im gonna be cross posting now #ladyarrow #Roy/Mari #not sure what else to tag as for now #hope it was worth the wait #finally out of my own head after like a year #i plan to finsh this time then maybe move on to the next fic #chapter 1 rewrite done #mostly this is actually only like half the orginal chapter but twice as long #i feel like ive improved my wrotting and i hope it shows

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banashee · 3 years

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Hi Folks, welcome to my third fic for the Archival Pride 2021 project! Look at their tumblr for more info :) @archivalpride

Archival Pride 2021, Week three (June 15-21) Prompts: Love Languages, Doubt, Post-Canon, Intimacy, Home

The key words I've used here are Post-Canon, Home and Intimacy

- Off-screen Arguments - scars - Trauma recovery - brief but canon-typical violence - References to Canon-Stabby-Stabby in MAG200 - mention of coma, no details - reference to homophobic Parent

A Second Chance

Some days, it still feels like a dream. That they are here, together, that they get to have this. A home, a life - a second chance at everything.

It’s been almost two years since the panopticon collapsed in an explosion, almost two years since Jon and Martin woke up… Here. “Somewhere else” they called it then, but now they simply call this place “home”. More precisely, they do so because first and foremost, they are home to each other.

Even back when in the Institute, when both of them successfully managed to convince themselves their feelings for each other were one-sided, the few and far moments where they actually had time to themselves were precious. Even when Jon had woken up from his coma and Martin was working for Peter Lukas, just a small brush of hands or a quick hug in the hallway had felt like the only safe place left in the world. Just for a moment, before they had to move on, more alone than ever before.

By the time Martin was deep in the Lonely and Jon had pulled him out, taken his hand and not let go until they were safely in Daisy’s little safehouse in the Scottish Highlands where no one would be able to find or hurt them. Or at least, that had been the plan… It only lasted for a little while.

Still, even though the end of the world started there, the days and weeks they had before are precious to Jon and Martin to this day. It’s those weeks where they had a chance to really get to know each other, outside of work and countless terrifying encounters with the Fears.

Days spent talking in front of the fireplace, curled up around each other or not talking at all. Especially on the bad days, when everything hits them at once, it is a little bit easier to deal with everything while they’re together. Cooking together, stepping around each other in the kitchen when they tried recipes neither of them had ever tried before, laughing at and playfully chiding each other when everything turns into a big mess.

Hugs and kisses shared at the most random of times, just because they realized they can do this now.

Over time, they shared a few personal bits and pieces. After the first time they shared the bed, to be close and to keep the nightmares at bay, they started talking about their needs and boundaries.

“I love you, and I love being close to you. But I, I also need you to know that… Well, I won’t be able to give you more than this. I don’t… sleep with people. In, well, in that sense.” Jon had blushed and stammered his way through explaining what Asexuality means to him, and it is met with love and acceptance. He started to breathe a little bit easier then.

A little while later, Martin told him about the disaster that was his coming out to his Mum. He didn’t mean to, he said that day in the safehouse with a bitter smile as he shook his head, but he’d hit a breaking point. One too many homophobic remarks, one too many unhappy sneers.

“One day, I just. Snapped. Couldn’t take the bullshit anymore. I don’t even remember exactly what I said to her, but she was... “ Martin shook his head.

“Not happy.” He laughed, but it wasn’t happy by any means. Jon understood all too well, and reached out with one hand, an offer to hold on tight, which Martin happily took him up on.

“She didn’t… Like me very much before, I don’t think. Or, well, I know that now, but… But ever since I told her I am gay, that certainly didn’t help things. She never met any of my boyfriends or anything, but, well. That’s robably for the best.”

Only a short while after this conversation, the world ended. After months and months of walking through a hellscape, they finally arrived back in what once was London. Back at the institute - the tower of the Watcher.

Once they got their chance to kill Elias and destroy Jonah Magnus, things… Went differently than planned.

Even years after the fact, long long after, Jon and Martin wake up from vivid nightmares. The memories, both real and twisted, leave them sobbing and calling out for each other. Each time, they end up wide awake for hours, holding onto one another to try and keep the other from getting lost again. Dealing with everything is very much a work in progress.

Guilt eats Jon up from the inside. He is talking about it, at least he does now, but the feelings are still there, sitting on his chest and taking his breath away. The guilt about walking off on his own and leaving everyone else, including Martin behind is one of the worst he’s ever felt, and even though they have talked and worked through this particular issue for a long time, Jon is still struggling with it. The main problem is that didn’t see another way, did what he thought was best. Now he knows there wasn’t a right decision in the situation they found themselves in, only damage control.

But on a personal level? Yes, he screwed up, and he knows it.

The scar on his chest hurts those nights, like a fresh wound. Jon finds himself clutching it, without even realizing that he is doing so. If he was, he would try to stop himself from it, but every time his hands rub over the place in the middle of his chest, when breath leaves his lungs for a while, he can tell that Martin’s eyes go blank and he hates himself a little bit more for having caused so much pain. .

How often Martin wakes up in the middle of the night, dreaming again and again about that fateful day that ended with him stabbing the love of his life with a knife, he has long lost count. But it hurts, worse than anything else, and the memory alone sends him spiralling for a long time.

If the Fears had any more power here, there is no doubt that Martin would find himself surrounded by thick, white fog those nights, cold and damp and utterly alone even with another person in the room.

He’d spent months - years really - keeping it together just to keep going, doing what needed to be done and be there for the people around him. It’s what he’s always done, isn’t used to anything else, but Jon knows him well enough to recognize the signs and stop Martin before he destroys himself any further.

“Let me take care of you. Please - You don’t have to keep going all the time.”

Somehow, even with all the trauma and heartbreak, the two of them manage to form one functioning human being together when they can’t manage to be one on their own. On the really bad days, that is enough.

Martin and Jon have their hiccups - but they know just how much they adore one another, and that is usually enough to make them see reason even when things get hard.

Especially in the first few weeks Somewhere Else, there is a lot of confusion and pain. Years of trauma and injuries they are unable to explain to anyone, because how do you explain even a fraction of the fears and the apocalypse they have walked through? None of it has happened here. This is a world that has never ended, and although the Fears certainly exist here, they are in the shadows, where they belong. As far as they can tell, none of the rituals have happened here, and the entities just. Exist, but don’t do nearly as much harm as Jon and Martin have experienced.

So seeking out help, let alone from professionals, is hard. Lord knows, they need it - it takes the two of them countless trials to find individual therapists for themselves, and even longer to find one to attend for couples counseling who won’t make their skin crawl with anxiety. There are issues that need to be addressed, and it is hard to start somewhere.

Some sessions are much, much harder than others. Unpacking the baggage is logical, it is something that needs to be done in order to deal with the trauma, but for a long time, it just hurts. It hurts, having to open up about things that are so deeply personal, and even though both Martin and Jon have come up with cover stories for their situation, they still have to work on all the emotions and the things that happened to them and their loved ones.

Some days, either one or both of them will come home from a therapy session and simply collapse into bed. Most times, all they want then is to hold each other. Other times, they talk, but more often than not, being able to listen to each other's heartbeat as they shake apart or fall asleep from exhaustion is enough.

Especially at first, when everything is still fresh, when the scars are still pink, raised and puckering, things are hard.

Surprising no one, coming from a literal hellscape into a normal, relatively calm world, is a total whiplash. Things are tense between Jon and Martin for a bit. They want to stay together, because they love each other deeply - there was never any doubt, not even a bit. But there are some situations, issues and decisions that they need to adress.

While things are still sore, it results in a number of exhausted, tearful arguments that leave both of them absolutely drained and limp from overwhelming sadness. The arguments themselves never last long, because both Martin and Jon are quick to make up and apologize after, but the feelings of exhaustion and heartbreak stay for long after.

The arguments pull on wounds and it hurts. There really is no other way to put it. More often than not, Martin and Jon spend the night with no sleep, wrapped around each other so tightly it is almost painful. Holding onto one another is all they can do sometimes to keep each other from falling apart at the seams.

Weeks turn into months, months turn into a year and so on. Both Jon and Martin have come a long way since they arrived here - they no longer call it “Somewhere else”. Their trauma still sits deep, but has become much, much more of a quiet background pain that occasionally comes out to play, rather than being a constant, stabbing sensation that leaves them bleeding and breathless, unable to function. Those days, thankfully, have become rare.

They start to live, instead of just surviving.

It is around that time that they decide they want to get out of the city. London, whether back in the old world or here, is not a quiet place to be, but now that they are free, they take the opportunity and run with it.

A little bit of time passes, and between days spent walking hand in hand through the nearby park, nights curled up on the couch with books and tea and day jobs and even occasional evenings in the pub with coworkers, they find themselves standing in their empty apartment. All there is left is a single cardboard box and a potted plant, both of which are held by the two men who spent the last year and a half there.

“...Jon?”

“Yes, Love?”

“I had no idea we had so much stuff, until we started to pack it all up.”

“We do. I’m… Not entirely sure when that happened to be honest.”

“....I believe somewhere between us starting to actually do things, and you discovering that tiny bookshop which I’m convinced should have been empty by now, thanks to you.”

“Yes. And also the plants. Don’t forget your leafy children, Martin.” Jon leans into Martin’s upper arm for a moment, a small smile on his face. He would have pulled him into an embrace, but since Martin holds the last of their moving boxes, filled to the brim with books, and Jon’s arms are currently wrapped around the pot of a fairly tall dracea, just leaning in must be enough. The plant pokes far over his shoulder, long, dark green leaves lazily moving with him as he holds onto it, tight and secure.

‘Martha’ says a small, handwritten label on the pot, carefully stuck near the edge of the pot. Giving the plants human names had started out as a joke, a throwaway sentence, but then they bought more and more plants, and so a new tradition was born.

“...To be fair, I had no idea there were so many until we had to get them all into the van.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find plenty of space in the new house that looks empty. Not for long though, knowing you.”

Martin smiles at him, propping the box against himself. This thing is heavy - as small as their old flat is, it hasn’t stopped Jon from starting to form their own library throughout the living room. Truth be told, he is looking forward to seeing it expand once they’re settled into their new space. It'll be a fun opportunity to bicker over the proper way to sort them.

(“By colour ?? Martin, Dear, Love of my life, what the fuck . You’ve worked in a Library for years!” Jon will ramble on in disbelief, and Martin will cackle to himself, knowing he managed to rile his boyfriend up about something that isn’t important at all. He knows they actually agree that books need to be sorted by Author’s names. But where would be the fun in admitting that right away?)

“Ready to go?” he asks, and waits for his partner's affirmative nod before the two of them leave the apartment, for one last time.

It’s time for a new chapter in their new life, and they’re more than ready to start it.

The first morning in their new house, they are woken up by a fresh breeze coming through their bedroom window. It carries the scent of pine needles and damp earth with it. The birds outside are already singing the song of their people and have been doing so for hours, long before most humans are conscious. Waking up like this is bliss, even though the bed is about the only thing that is actually done in this room.

There are boxes everywhere and their wardrobe is only halfway assembled, but the bed is comfortable and decked out in fresh covers that still smell of washing powder. Everything is fresh and new and feels a little bit like they’re on a holiday. Maybe someday, it will become their new normal, but as of now, it feels like a fresh start.

As always, it’s Martin who wakes up first. He can smell the fresh, woodsy air, and it relaxes him in an instant. There is a small forest right by their house. It is at the end of the street where only a few more old, slightly lopsided houses are nearby. It is perfect for them.

On their search for a new home, it was clear they wanted to go somewhere more rural, somewhere remote. Ever since the Lonely, Martin is struggling with too many people around him. He can go about his everyday life if he has to, but days with too many people and too much social interaction leave him sad and exhausted from pretending to be fine and peachy with it.

It doesn’t help that many of the houses they looked at are seaside cottages. As beautiful as they look on the photos, conveniently taken on days with clear blue skies, this is England. There are way more rainy days filled with grey, suffocating fog, and that alone is enough to send Martin back into a full blown panic attack. It’s too much, way too much like the Lonely. Needless to say, they filtered their searches accordingly.

Eventually, everything clicks into place and they find their dream house in a small residential area with little traffic and even less people. The quiet of the countryside makes both of the breathe easier- it reminds them a little bit of their time in Scotland, even though the landscape isn’t nearly as raw here. They may or may not have found a field of very good cows nearby though.

The cool breeze of the morning air makes Martin shiver a bit, and he pulls the covers a little bit tighter around himself and Jon. Predictably, his partner takes this as an invitation to adjust his octopus grip that he has around him to get even closer as he sleepily grumbles,

“...Just five more minutes.”

“Make it an hour and we’re good, Love.” With gentle fingers, he starts to detangle the long strands of hair that surround Jon. There is even more grey than there was only a few years ago - no surprise, what with all of the stress and trauma they have lived through.

All that Martin gets in response to this is a low hum as Jon tightens his hold around him once more as he breathes a small trail of kisses along the side of his neck and up his jaw.

He knows that Morning-Jon is not talkative, at all, but he knows him long and well enough to understand what he is telling him, even when he is half asleep himself.

“I love you, too.”

#Archival Pride 2021 #banashee writes #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #JonMartin #Post mag200 #TMA season 5 spoilers

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gravelyhumerus · 4 years

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Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter Twelve

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away” Relationship: Jemily

Rating: Explicit (as of this chapter) Summary: JJ faces consequence for her actions (and gets a hickey).

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

JJ threw herself down onto the bench, hoisting her cleat onto the table and yanking the laces loose. She bit her cheek to keep from crying as her breaths came in heaves.

She had run from it all, again. That’s all she was good for anyways, running away. It’s what Jareaus did best.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the present, pushing away all of the thoughts of home that were flashing across her vision.

Home, in her quiet, empty childhood home, JJ had gotten a text from Emily Prentiss. JJ read the message, standing stock-still in the bathroom that sent shivers down her spine.

The sight of the girl’s name made her smile, brought a shiver of excitement down her spine and the ghost of a kiss to her lips.

But, when she closed her eyes, Rosalyn’s blood pooled on the tile floor underneath her feet. JJ couldn’t respond to Emily’s text. Instead, she curled up on the floor next to where her sister died.

JJ shook her head, returning to the present. This wasn’t the time, she thought.

She moved to her other shoe, untying the laces and prying the cleat off of her sore foot. She rolled her knee-high socks off of her calves, focusing on the familiar motions and not the swirling thoughts and emotions that tugged at her brain.

But today, soccer wasn’t helping. The sport had always been her solace, the pitch a place where she could forget who she was, what she was, for a couple hours. But today, the mess that was her life had broken through the barrier, and gotten her sent home from practice early.

JJ cursed as she stripped off her uniform, working her tight shirt and sports bra over her head, then removing her baggy navy blue shorts. Wrapping a towel around her, JJ grit her teeth as she took her toiletries into the shower.

With a protesting squeak, the tap spun under JJ’s hands. She turned it just past midway, then further into the red, hoping the hot water would wash away the fog that clogged JJ’s brain.

JJ’s father was gone. Her mother hadn’t had the heart to tell her. Leaving it for JJ to arrive in her childhood home, finding out in person that the dining room now had two empty chairs instead of just one.

She stepped into the shower and let the scalding water run over her body.

“I’m sorry Jenny,” her mother said, her voice breaking with the words. “I didn’t know how to say it over the phone, and after your break up-”

He had left without so much of a goodbye. She should have seen it coming. The fighting that had been bad when she was a teen, had only gotten worse after JJ wasn’t there to try and hold the pieces of her broken family together.

She had frozen in the foyer, her duffel bag still in hand, as her mother stood before her, begging her to say something.

JJ didn’t know what to say, still didn’t. All she knew was that she wasn’t enough. Not enough of a sister, of a daughter, of a girlfriend. She wasn’t enough for anyone, and she knew it. She couldn’t keep her family together. She couldn’t keep her sister alive. And she was certainly not good enough for someone like Emily Prentiss to love.

Hot tears melded with the water raining down from above as JJ let out a quiet sob that echoed through the change room.

“Jareau?” Kennedy’s confused voice called out as the door to the locker room slammed shut behind her.

JJ stifled her cry with her hand over her mouth and tried to settle herself down. Breathing in and out, JJ closed her eyes and focused on the rush of the hot water over her body.

JJ had run around the track, harder, faster, pushing herself further than she should have. She ran the drills sloppily, her aggression showing though in bursts of frustration when she couldn’t master her footwork. Her coach sent her to the locker room early; apparently he had enough of JJ’s bad mood.

JJ shook her head; she turned off the water and grabbed the towel, wrapping it around her before peeking her head out of the stall.

“Yeah?” she croaked.

“Seriously, like, what is going on with you?” Kennedy asked.

JJ frowned, walking over and sitting on the bench, busying herself with towelling off her hair with her extra towel rather than answering the question. She shivered in the cool air.

“You’ve been all over the place this semester,” Kennedy continued, unheeded. “First you’re all weird, then you’re all smiley, now your brain is somewhere else.”

JJ didn’t look at her.

“And frankly,” Kennedy continued, her wide blue eyes boring into the side of JJ’s face, “we can’t handle someone whose head isn’t in the game with playoffs coming up.”

JJ gulped. She was right. This had come at the worst possible time. All of this. And it was getting to her, affecting her game, making her sloppy. “Is this still about your break-up?” Kennedy asked. “Did something happen over Thanksgiving?”

“Honestly,” JJ sighed, “yes and no.”

“I don’t understand,” she said.

She didn’t really understand either. How could she tell Kennedy about how her mother had cried when she had told her that she and Will had broken up? How could she explain that the tense silence between her and her mother was the last straw? How it was somehow worse than her parents' constant fighting? How could she explain that when she stared at the closed door of her dead sister's room, all of the heartbreak came flooding back?

Kennedy watched her, her earnest face blank as JJ wrestled with her inner turmoil.

JJ’s mind flashed back to the hurt and pain on Emily’s face. The way Emily’s face collapsed into blankness as JJ pulled back, how JJ felt like she had betrayed her friend.

JJ tried to explain. She went over her break up, in significantly more detail than she planned to, how she had felt bogged down by him, how she didn’t want him to visit, how he seemed to sense that and broke up with her.

“But wasn’t all that a while ago?” Kennedy asked.

JJ sighed. This was the catch.

“There’s someone else on your mind, isn’t there?” Kennedy guessed. Sometimes the girl was actually perceptive. “Why haven’t you said anything? You’ve got to share. Is he hot?”

Well, not that perceptive.

JJ found herself laughing at the question. She thought for a second. She hadn’t really… come out to anyone before. Penelope Garcia didn’t count, she practically guessed. Same with Spencer. And JJ hadn’t even thought about telling her mom.

Kennedy was different. She thought JJ was straight and loved talking about boys with her. As the semester progressed, JJ’s interest in these conversations faded alongside her attraction to men.

“She is,” JJ said, to Kennedy’s surprise.

JJ then proceeded to explain her friendship with Emily, her crush on the girl, and her absolute panic when faced with a potential romance with the other girl.

“So you’re lesbian?” Kennedy asked.

“Yes. No. Maybe,” JJ floundered.

“You don’t like me, do you?!” she asked, horror on her face. JJ’s stomach sank at the question. “Because I’m not… not…”

“Kennedy, I don’t,” JJ assured her, feeling a touch icky about the conversation. “I don’t see you that way.”

“Should I stop changing in front of you?” she asked.

JJ sighed in frustration.

“Hey, you know how you don’t find all boys attractive?” JJ said, trying to dumb it down for her friend. “And some are just friends?”

“I guess,” Kennedy said, “So you don’t want to stare at girls in the change room?”

“No,” JJ said, “I’ve literally seen all of you guys naked. You’re like my siblings.”

“Oh thank god,” Kennedy said. JJ cringed at the relief in her voice, but decided not to call her out on it. “So this girl, Emily, you like her?”

“Yeah,” JJ said.

“Then why don’t you date her?” Kennedy asked. “Didn’t you guys kiss?”

JJ ran her hands through her hair—a nervous habit she knew messed up her hair and left it poofy—as she tried to formulate her response. She couldn’t even explain it to Emily, or herself, she wasn’t sure how to make Kennedy understand.

JJ hurt people. She messed everything up. She ruined her last relationship because she got bored of him. Would she do the same to Emily? That would ruin everything. She couldn’t lose Emily. It was better to be friends and have her close than have something more and ruin it.

Explaining that was a challenge, but eventually Kennedy got it. Mostly.

“I think I’ve just made it worse,” JJ said. “I did exactly what I was trying to avoid, I hurt her.”

“What happened?”

JJ didn’t know what happened. She was still trying to claw her way out of the fog that clogged up her brain.

“Emily texted me. And I just left her on read,” JJ said, her anger at herself coming through in her tone. “I didn’t mean to. She texted me when her flight landed but I was just so out of it.”

JJ gulped, rifling through her bag for some clothes as the chill of the room was creeping into her bones.

“I put off responding to Emily until I had a handle on my feelings,” JJ explained, she was too afraid baggage on this girl that she liked so much, desperately avoiding scaring her off.

Left alone in her childhood bedroom, the walls still painted pink and the band posters still hanging onto her wall with scotch tape, JJ’s thoughts swirled around. She worked herself up to a panic, pacing back and forth across the creaky wooden floor, until she laced up her sneakers and thundered downstairs.

She ran. First, around the block, passing the familiar neighbours and parks that populated her suburban neighbourhood. She pushed on, heading deeper into suburbia.

Tears stung at her eyes as the route took her back to high school, her feeling of desperation to escape, to get out of this shitty town and all the weight that made her feel like she was slowly sinking.

That weight had returned. Now, it doubled down on her, making her second guess it all.

“I could have just pretended like nothing was wrong,” JJ said, “But that felt like a lie.”

Before she realized it, she found herself jogging past Will’s house.

She remembered the year when he moved to Pennsylvania: it was tenth grade and he was the new kid. He hadn’t known Ros. He was safe, free of the expectations of JJ being the poor little Jareau girl.

Now, seeing his place sent a pit of anxiety into her stomach.

“But the more I put it off, the more I started questioning what I had started,” JJ said.

“Like, kissing her, you mean?” Kennedy asked, “Did you regret it or something?”

“No,” she replied, “I would never regret that.”

She ruined things. She hurt people. And if she let things continue with Emily, it would just blow up in her face.

JJ ran harder, slowly coming to a conclusion.

“I needed to break it off,” JJ said. “I knew I would hurt her. I just have so much going on. I’ll just hurt her.”

She gritted her teeth as she mentally prepared herself to tell Emily. She knew she had to get it over with. Nip it in the bud before it was real. She couldn’t lose her friend. If she did, she would lose them all.

It would be all her fault, if things ended badly. All their friends would know that JJ was to blame, Derek would hate her, Hotch too, Spencer would look at her differently, and Penelope would know she made the mistake of being JJ’s friend.

It would be better if they didn’t start. They didn’t kiss again. No one would get hurt. They could just be friends. Just friends.

“So you decided to stay friends? Why didn’t you just text her back?”

“I tried. I drafted text after text after text and nothing worked. I just kept deleting it.”

When JJ returned to her parents house—well, her mom’s house now—she picked up her phone, trying to draft a message to Emily. Try as she might, she couldn’t form a coherent sentence.

“I fucked it up,” JJ admitted to Kennedy. “I thought breaking things off before it started would be better, but I think I made things worse.”

“So you’re not dating her?”

“No.”

“Look Jen, I’m sorry about your family stuff. That’s hard. My parents split when I was twelve and it seriously fucked me up. I get it. But you gotta get over yourself.”

JJ frowned, feeling offended by the comment, but knew that Kennedy didn’t mean anything by it. She was just like that.

“You’re not going to make it better by wallowing and lashing out. It’s not healthy, and you’re going to cost us the playoffs. You need to get out of your head.”

Kennedy thought for a minute, seeming to size JJ up on the spot.

“You know what you need?” Kennedy said. “To get out. See new people. Drink. Have fun.”

This was Kennedy’s solution for everything, but for the first time, JJ didn’t turn the offer down, surprising even herself.

———

JJ gulped her beer, downing it quickly despite the warm foam that swirled in her mouth. She needed to be drunk, like right now. Kennedy seemed to agree, holding the bottle upright to allow the beer flow into JJ’s mouth until she finished the drink.

They were in a dingy frat house, surrounded by miscellaneous athletes. There was a lull before playoffs, for most teams, which meant that the weekend was jam packed with parties. This one was occupied by the soccer teams, men’s basketball, and assorted other players that JJ couldn’t place in her drunken state.

She wiped her mouth, depositing her bottle on the nearby table, and found herself stumbling somewhat. She was only getting more drunk at this point . After quite a few rounds of shots before they left Kenendy’s dorm room, JJ was well on her way to being blackout.

JJ was already regretting her decision. With finals and playoffs coming up, she should have been spending this time studying or training.

But, after days of side looks from Penelope and the sad look in Spencer’s eyes, JJ needed to get out of her residence, away from all the people who knew how much she had fucked it up. Ever since JJ and Emily returned to residence on Sunday, and JJ broke it off, tension between JJ and all of her friends had been palpable.

She had no idea how to fix things, and drinking away her problems seemed like it might actually work. She also knew that after a week of little to no appetite, the alcohol was hitting her harder than it would’ve on a full stomach.

“Easy girl,” Kennedy laughed, likely even drunker than the blonde. Her bright red hair was straightened, almost unrecognisable to JJ, who was used to the wild frizzy curls she usually sported, and fell halfway down her back. Her blue eyes glinted mischievously as she spotted some people going out for a smoke.

JJ sighed as Kennedy looked at her pleadingly, knowing the girl wanted to bum a cigarette. She was a notorious drunk smoker.

“Those will kill you,” JJ warned, as her mind wandered to how she sometimes spotted Emily sitting on the bleachers, smoking alone, lost in thought. She couldn’t explain how something so bad for you could look so hot in the right hands.

“Not if I have just one,” Kennedy said. “I’ll be fine. You need to talk to someone besides me and Jordan. Find a guy. It’ll be good for you.”

JJ sighed. Kennedy and her got along well during practices and were an unstoppable force on the field, but outside of that, they were very different people. Jordan Todd, their mutual friend on the team who played defence, was too busy talking to a group of volleyball players to notice JJ looking at her.

She ran her eyes around the cramped party, watching masses of bodies writhe to the pounding music. She opened her next beer and took a long swig, swaying slightly to the music, trying to get out of her head and enjoy the party.

Maybe Kennedy was right. Maybe if JJ could get her mind off Emily, she could focus on just being friends with her. Maybe without all of her romantic feelings clouding her thoughts, JJ could make amends and they could just be friends.

When Kennedy returned to the party, she had her boyfriend Grant Anderson in tow. He was stocky and had a round face, wearing a polo shirt, khakis and boat shoes like most of the guys at the party.

JJ greeted him pleasantly, though she was still a little cheesed that he had single-handedly gotten most of the team sick a few weeks ago.

“We’re getting her laid,” Kennedy announced.

JJ grimaced as Grant began to list off the eligible bachelors on the water polo team. JJ floundered with her response, deciding instead to gulp down her beer, hoping the alcohol would make this easier.

Before he finished his list, he spotted someone who he clearly decided would be perfect for her. He was tall, muscular, with kind eyes, a perfect man in any other circumstance.

Kennedy elbowed her in the side as he walked up to him, greeting him with exaggerated excitement and a pointed look to JJ. Despite their previous conversation about JJ’s ambiguous sexuality, Kennedy seemed to have defaulted to setting her up with men.

He told her his name was Luke, showed her pictures of his dog, and talked to her about how challenging it was to balance being a varsity lacrosse player with academics. He was perfect. The kind of boy that any girl would be thrilled to bring back home to her parents.

Except JJ couldn’t bring herself to feel any attraction to him. Instead of lust, she pictured herself watching the game with him and eating cheetos.

JJ nodded passively as Kennedy and Grant left her with Luke, trying to focus on the facts about his life. She kicked herself internally, knowing that he seemed smart and kind, and that she shouldn’t be rude, but she couldn’t get Emily out of her mind. Anyways, JJ wasn’t even sure if she even liked men at all.

As Luke explained his major and minor combo, and how that was going to get him into the FBI some day, JJ’s mind wandered to the thought of running her hands through Emily’s silky black hair.

JJ zoned out, her eyes drifting across the party, wondering where Kennedy, Grant and Jordan had all wandered off to.

As if called, Kennedy walked up with a bottle of jägermeister and some plastic shot glasses. She greeted Luke with a friendly greeting, obviously familiar with the tall lacrosse player.

“Shots?” She asked with a grin. JJ rolled her eyes but couldn’t say no, she was already drunk and the idea of more alcohol sounded like a good idea at the time.

They downed two shots before Kennedy heard a song that she liked playing over the speakers and she headed back onto the dance floor to find her boyfriend, leaving JJ alone with Luke.

A girl caught her eye from across the party, leaning casually on the kitchen counter, sipping something amber coloured out of a glass. JJ recognized her from the bar that they went to on trivia nights, her auburn hair cut in a bob and mischievous eyes were unmistakable. She was the bartender, who JJ had, at one point, caught flirting with Emily.

Now, the girl was making eyes at her.

JJ looked back to Luke, who was asking her about her major, and her plans for the future. She had to admit that she didn’t really know, and that she was keeping her options open.

Distracted by the other girl’s presence, JJ’s eyes kept flicking towards the brunette, tracking her as she walked across the room and right up to JJ.

“Hey there,” the mystery girl said, smiling at JJ and giving Luke a quick wave.

“Hello,” Luke said with a friendly nod.

“I think your friend’s looking for a partner,” the girl said, pointing towards one of Luke’s friends who was waving over at him. He was tall and had an oversized navy and yellow varsity jacket. He, like Luke, seemed familiar from other varsity events that JJ had attended, Simon… or Simmons or something like that.

Before she knew it, Luke was pulled into a beer pong game, giving JJ an apologetic smile and a wave, before leaving her with the brunette.

The taller girl looked her up and down, blatantly checking her out.

“What are you drinking?” she asked, gesturing to JJ’s beer. “An IPA?”

“You got it,” JJ said. “You?”

“Tequila sunrise,” she responded. “I like things sweet.”

JJ found herself blushing, as the girl leaned in to say that. The girl's hair was curled, resting just below her ears on her neck in a playful style. She had impressive liquid eyeliner swooping across her lids and a soft nude lipstick on her lips. JJ’s eyes moved south, taking in her low cut blouse and skin tight jeans.

Her head spun at the sight of her. And at the sheer amount of beer that she had consumed.

The brunette’s face was soft, tanned. Her eyes large, looking down at her with an impish grin. She was lithe and sultry, and smelled like licorice.

“Like what you see?” the stranger said, smirking at JJ’s reddening face. “The name’s Elle, I think I’ve seen you around.”

“Jennifer, but my friends call me JJ,” she said.

“Well. Jennifer, let's see if we can work up to calling you JJ then, shall we?”

Elle drained the last of her drink, placing the glass on a nearby table.

“Want to get out of this dump?” Elle asked.

JJ nodded dumbly, acting without thinking, and followed the girl out of the party, sending Kennedy a quick text as she grabbed her coat.

JJ: took ur advice! see yuo later

Kennedy didn’t respond, as she was too busy chugging beer from a funnel at the time.

The two girls walked outside, and within seconds JJ’s face was between Elle’s hands, pulled into a deep, passionate and incredibly sexy kiss.

JJ acted on autopilot, responding in kind to the other girl’s advances as she pressed JJ up against the brick wall, grinding into her as Elle swiped her tongue against JJ’s.

Despite feeling unsteady, with the two shots of alcohol hitting her hard, JJ’s stomach flopped at the thought of kissing someone who wasn’t Emily. Half of her wanted to race home, knock on Emily’s door, and beg her forgiveness, but the other half was melting into this stranger’s arms.

JJ’s blood raced through her veins, and she could feel the need flash across her mind. She wanted this girl, knowing nothing about her. She was there, and she was touching JJ, and it was all she wanted in that moment.

JJ was also very drunk. Drunker than she had been in a long time. The world spun slightly, and she felt warm despite the frosty air.

When Elle pulled back, JJ’s lips were swollen and she was desperate for more.

“Your place or mine?” Elle asked.

———

They tumbled into Elle’s room, hands tugging at clothing and lips connected the entire time. JJ kicked off her shoes and fiddled with her belt, trying to remove obstacles early on in the process.

Soon Elle was standing in front of her wearing only a pair of jeans and a lacy black bra, the sight of which made JJ acutely aware of the wetness that was pooling between her legs.

“Take this off,” Elle commanded, tugging on the v-neck blue shirt that JJ had worn, not knowing when she was picking out her outfit that she would actually be going home with someone.

JJ obeyed, pulling it over her head, revealing a grey sports bra with a white stretchy band that wrapped around her ribcage. Elle pulled her in for another kiss, her mouth demanding and insistent.

As they kissed, Elle’s deft hands undid the button on her jeans, and pulled down the zipper on her fly. JJ then shimmied her jeans off, leaving her in her underwear as she watched Elle do the same.

Somehow the other girls movements were elegant and intentional, making the awkward motion of stripping look hot.

“Bed,” Elle said, guiding JJ onto the edge of her own bed and straddling her.

Elle lived off campus, in a fairly average apartment. Her room was neat, with only scattered books and a bit of laundry on the ground in the corner. Her bed was soft, but squeaked with their motion. JJ hoped Elle didn’t have any roommates.

JJ held onto her thighs as Elle kissed down her jaw, before moving her lips to JJ’s pulse point and down her neck. Elle sucked on the soft skin above her collar bone, evoking a surprised moan from JJ.

Her breathing grew heavy as Elle sucked on her neck and buried her hands in her hair. JJ gripped the brunette's thighs even tighter, before running her arms up and down her spine, tracing the feeling of a woman’s body, almost naked against hers.

It was a different feeling, having a girl's breast pressed up against hers. The softness of Elle’s face was so different from the roughness of any man's.

As JJ was lost in thought, an almost tentative hand fiddled with the back of her sports bra. No, not tentative, there was nothing about Elle that was tentative. It was a question, asking for consent to strip JJ’s final layer off. JJ nodded and before she knew it, Elle was pulling the garment smoothly off of her head.

Elle’s lips went lower, her tongue dragging across the small swell of JJ’s breast and swirled around her nipple. JJ gasped and clenched her thighs at the sensation, squeezing her eyes shut in pleasure.

“You’re such a pretty thing,” Elle whispered at her.

JJ opened her eyes as Elle sucked on her nipple, eliciting a quiet, oh , in surprise. She could feel Elle smiling, a devilish grin of a girl who knew exactly what she was doing.

Then, she stopped and grinned at her. JJ stared, slack jaw, back at her as her head spun with alcohol and lust.

Elle patted her thigh, an instruction to get further on the bed, JJ did so, moving up onto it. Elle carefully placed herself on top of JJ, propping herself up by her elbows as she resumed their kiss.

JJ reached around to Elle’s back, deciding to undo her bra and level the playing field, but she fumbled with the clasp. A blush went to her cheeks as she struggled with the fastener, tugging at it frantically.

“First time?” Elle asked her, grinning wolfishly down at her.

JJ couldn't lie, so she just nodded before adding: “With a girl at least.”

“Don’t worry,” Elle whispered. “I’ll show you the ropes.”

She sat on her haunches and one handedly took off her own bra, flinging it somewhere off the bed and staring down at JJ.

JJ panted as she took all of Elle in, her big eyes, parted lips. Her long neck and graceful swoop of her collar bones. Her round breasts and tanned skin before her.

A pair of black panties hid the last of Elle from JJ, hugging her hips and teasing her of what lay beneath.

Elle pulled JJ onto herself, guiding her down with confident hands on JJ’s thighs. They resumed their kiss, now breathy and frantic, their lips crashed together in open mouthed kisses, both girls desperate to get closer.

Elle’s hand grazed her hip, trailing along her thigh and coming to rest between JJ’s legs. JJ’s hips bucked into the touch, grinding down onto Elle’s hand.

“Someone’s excited,” Elle noted between kisses.

Elle flipped both of them over, carefully holding JJ’s hip in one hand and head with the other and JJ crashed into the mattress with a gasp. Elle’s thigh fell between hers, making contact with JJ’s sensitive core.

The brunette kissed her deeply, pushing their bodies together and moving her hips, allowing her thigh to grind against JJ.

The friction sent JJ’s mind buzzing, as she was desperate for more contact.

“What do you say Jennifer,” Elle whispered in her ear, “Can I take these off of you?”

JJ nodded desperately, as the sound of Elle’s breath right into her ear sent tingles down her spine.

Elle kissed along JJ’s neck, placing a trail of open-mouth kisses down her chest and stomach, before coming to rest between JJ’s legs.

JJ felt herself tensing up, nervous about what she knew would come next.

As if sensing JJ’s hesitation, Elle placed her hand on JJ’s stomach, looking in her eyes with a look that said: relax.

JJ acquiesced, forcing her muscles to relax. Elle wrapped her arms around and under JJ’s legs, spreading them apart and holding them lightly. She then pressed her face into JJ’s left thigh, kissing it in a way that was incredibly arousing.

JJ gasped, jerking her leg away at the ticklish sensation, only to be held in place by Elle’s calm arm around her thigh. Elle kissed up JJ’s thigh, sucking onto her pale flesh hard enough to leave marks.

JJ felt herself clenching, as the combinations of sensations and the visual of Elle between her legs was almost too much. She gasped and panted, breathing heavy as all of her nerves were on fire.

The blonde gripped the sheets, on the verge of begging Elle to just fuck her already , but she couldn’t, she didn’t want that. All of this, all that was leading up to it, was on the cusp of sending her over the edge and she hadn’t even been touched where she needed to yet.

Elle hovered over JJ’s black panties, her breath coming in pants as she looked up at JJ, her brown eyes almost black in the dim light. Her hot breath made JJ strain forward, but Elle’s hands held her hips flat to the bed.

“Pl– please,” JJ whimpered.

At her word, Elle tugged on JJ’s panties, allowing the blonde to lift her hips up as Elle tugged them down and off.

Now, there was nothing between Elle and JJ.

The distance was soon closed and Elle greeted her with a long swipe up the centre, then a swirl over JJ’s clit. She almost yelled at the contact, as JJ’s head spun at the sensation of Elle’s mouth on her.

“You’re so wet for me,” Elle cooed. JJ nodded desperate for her to stop talking and start eating her out.

And Elle did. And she did it well.

Elle’s tongue danced across JJ, masterfully seeking out the places that made JJ gasp and moan. She was responsive to each noise that JJ made, and showed her clean talent at bringing another woman pleasure. JJ let go, focusing only on the feelings that Elle was evoking and the way she looked up at her as if checking in.

After a moment, JJ reached down. She entwined her one hand in Elle’s hair, guiding her up to her clit, desperate for more contact.

Before this, JJ always thought of oral as a step that she had to get through. It was always sloppy, unsatisfying, nowhere near the feelings she could get with her own hands or with a vibrator.

But now, as Elle sucked on her clit and moved her tongue across her, JJ didn’t want it to end. Unlike with herself, each moment was unexpected yet still welcome, as Elle moved around, constantly finding new ways to make JJ writhe on the bed.

Then, when JJ thought she wouldn’t ever feel better than she had, Elle’s right hand moved, and her fingers teased at JJ’s entrance. Elle looked up, checking that it was alright, JJ nodded desperately in response.

Elle entered her easily with two fingers. They glided into her with no resistance and JJ thought she might come just at the feeling of fullness in combination with Elle’s tongue flicking at her.

Starting a steady motion that complemented her tongue moving up and down, Elle’s fingers moved in and out of JJ, slowly, almost too slowly.

As JJ’s breath came heavier, Elle picked up speed, sucking at JJ’s clit and thrusting at an impressive speed. JJ’s hand held onto Elle’s hair for dear life.

As JJ babbled incoherently, begging Elle to keep going, keep going, keep going, suddenly she could picture Emily on top of her, Emily between her legs and Emily making her see stars.

JJ came saying Emily’s name. The sensation rolled through her, making her toes curl as she shut her eyes against the feeling. JJ’s lips parted and her body shivered as the orgasm took her.

She could hear Elle chuckle, but the noise was not enough to break the waves of pleasure that wracked through her body. The brunette didn’t stop her movements, rubbing her fingers down inside JJ as she rode out her orgasm. Nor did she stop sucking on JJ’s clit, as she had her lips wrapped around it, with her tongue rubbing against the centre.

Without a moment to breathe, JJ suddenly felt a second orgasm coming, building up in her gut and coming as a second wave that washed over her before she even knew it.

It hit her with less force than the first, but still powerful enough to send her twitching and shuddering. Elle pulled back, allowing JJ to ride her fingers at her own pace.

After a few moments of gasping and panting, JJ opened her eyes to find Elle wiping her hand on a towel and grinning down at her.

“Wow,” JJ managed, dazed at the feeling of elation that made her skin buzz.

Elle flopped beside her, reaching over JJ’s prone form towards a plastic reusable water bottle. She unscrewed the cap before offering some to JJ. She took it eagerly, spent and dehydrated from all of the beer.

“Good?” Elle asked, taking the water then having a sip for herself.

JJ nodded dumbly, feeling doubly out of it from the alcohol and the sex.

Elle placed the bottle back down on the desk, then laid down on the bed, facing JJ.

“Who’s Emily?” she asked, way more casually than the question should entail.

JJ’s face lit up in an even deeper blush than she was already sporting, mortified at the question and the memory of her calling out another girl's name while she was in bed with Elle.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Elle said, “But I don’t do cheating, if that’s what this is.”

“We’re not-” JJ said, stuttering. We’re not what? We’re not anything, yet, she thought. I broke it off before we could be anything. “I’m single, don’t worry.”

“Is she someone you want?” Elle asked.

JJ nodded, unsure of where this line of questioning would lead.

“Well, you have a lot to learn then,” Elle mused, “if you’re going to ever please this girl.”

JJ stared at her.

“From where I’m sitting,” Elle said, “you’ve gone home with some girl—me—to forget about this Emily girl, am I right?”

JJ nodded.

“But this is also your first time with a girl. So I’m sensing there’s some sort of combination of a will-they-won't-they situation and a sexuality crisis at play. Hence you have something to learn from me.”

“That’s not-”

“Yes it is,” Elle interrupted. “I don’t mind, don’t worry. I’ll show you some of the tricks up my sleeve and this Emily girl will have me to thank.”

JJ stuttered at Elle’s bold words, but didn’t have a single coherent thought to counter the brunette’s argument. She did want Emily. That was all she thought about. It was all so complicated, but here, with Elle, it was so simple. There were no feelings, no friendships, no bridges to burn, just sex.

“So, are you ready to learn?” Elle said, a daring look in her eye as her finger trailed along JJ’s stomach.

JJ nodded.

“Come on then.”

She obeyed, climbing onto Elle and kissing her deeply before moving lower, her hand creeping down to graze the brunette’s thigh.

“Don’t worry,” Elle said, “I’ll guide you through it.”

———

JJ woke up that morning to a splitting headache and a stomach that gave her the feeling that her bed was a ship lost at sea, tilting under the force of the ocean, making her nothing but seasick. But, she wasn’t in a boat, she was in a bed, and she was not in her own.

She squinted against the daylight, cracking open her eyes and blinking hard. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, holding her head steady as the headache throbbed and left her disoriented.

The large bay window was not hers, and the sleeping girl next to her was unfamiliar. But, the first thought in JJ’s mind was not either of these facts, it was the question of where the bathroom was, because she was about to yak.

JJ tried to stand, but the room was spinning so she braced herself with the desk that was right next to the bed, and she stumbled across the room, into the hall, where she saw the bathroom.

Not bothering to close the door behind her, JJ knelt and puked into the toilet. Some of the drinks from the night before came up, the bile feeling like fire in her throat and mouth. She heaved into the toilet, her eyes stinging with tears as she was forced to reckon with the sheer amount of alcohol that she had consumed at the party.

When her stomach had finally settled, JJ curled up on the floor, as the tears spilled down her cheeks.

She could barely remember the majority of the night before, but from what she could remember, it didn’t paint her in a very good light.

She had fucked someone else, and whoever this girl was, JJ could remember snippets of the evening and knew she had royally messed up.

Elle stood in the doorway with a glass of water, knocking lightly on the doorframe to announce her presence. JJ blinked up at her, mortified by her current predicament.

“Don’t tell me I got you pregnant,” Elle quipped, squatting and holding out the glass to JJ, who laughed half-heartedly and took it. JJ was relieved that at least she remembered the brunette’s name, that was a good sign.

Sipping the water, she swished it around in her mouth before spitting it out in the toilet. She then took another sip, swallowing it and relishing the cool feeling in her throat, mentally begging her body not to throw it up.

“You ok?” Elle asked, standing up.

JJ shrugged.

“Probably should have said no to that last beer,” JJ said hoarsely. “I should go.”

JJ stood, her legs feeling shaky and the world still feeling like it was spinning slightly. She was still mostly naked, only wearing her underwear and an unfamiliar t-shirt, which was presumably Elle’s.

Bright red blotches were visible above the fabric, gracing her collarbones and the right side of her neck with an array of hickies. JJ gasped and prodded at them, shocked at the angry red that was bright against her pale skin.

Her hair was a mess; the once-perfect blonde waves were mussed and tangled. There were large bags under her eyes and a wild look in her eyes.

The realization of what she had done sent another urgent feeling of nausea through her. She hurriedly rejected Elle’s offers of coffee, or breakfast, and raced out of her apartment building.

———

After a chilly walk through the student village, under the bright grey November light, JJ stumbled back to residence. She was wearing only the outfit she had worn out which didn’t do much against the cool fall breeze than it had last night with the warm buzz of alcohol in her system.

JJ stared at the ground her entire walk home, mortified with her leather jacket, high heeled boots, and low cut shirt. She was clearly on a walk of shame that Sunday morning.

Her outfit also did absolutely nothing to hide the bright red marks that crept up her neck. She had been too drunk to think about the consequences of letting Elle suck on her skin, and now had to face the consequences.

You’re ok, she said to herself. All you have to do is make it to your room. You have some concealer there, and turtlenecks. If you make it there you’re safe, no one will know.

She hurried up the stairs, unlocking the door to the second floor and speeding down the hall. She thanked god that her hair was long enough, so when she passed some people in the hall, she just lowered her head and looked away, hoping that no one looked at her too closely.

JJ was lucky that even though she had made a lot of mistakes that night, she still had her keys and her phone. She had her lanyard around her neck, ready to unlock her door, and there she would be home free.

Just as she reached her room, having to stop herself from sprinting down the hall, the door across the hall opened. JJ tensed up, key still in the lock, knowing exactly who was there.

She turned, forgetting about the marks on her neck, and looked at a steel-faced Emily Prentiss, looking at her with a blank expression in her eyes.

She was dressed for the day, wearing dark jeans, a baggy hoodie, and cordless headphones in her ears.

“Hello,” she said cooly, the simple word sending hurt into JJ’s gut.

“Hey,” JJ said, it sounded more like a croak than a word.

Emily’s eyes flicked down to her neck, widening at the sight. JJ gulped, realizing that Emily knew exactly what JJ had done the night before, the evidence clear all over her.

“I gotta go,” Emily said tersely, “I’m going to be late.”

And with that, Emily marched down the hall, without another word to JJ.

JJ unlocked her door, pushed it open, then her legs gave way and she fell in a puddle of her own tears, sobs wracking her whole body.

“JJ, what’s wrong?!” Penelope gasped, leaping up from her office chair and kneeling down in front of JJ.

She couldn’t make a sound, her embarrassment and anger at herself manifesting in angry sobs. Penelope wrapped her arms around JJ and allowed her to cry, patting her hair and holding her close.

“I’m so sorry,” JJ managed, knowing the person she was really apologizing to couldn’t hear her.

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mcfanely · 4 years

Note

In the Ice emperor and earth dragon AU, after they get rescued from the cursed realm, does Cole accidentally call Zane the ice emperor sometimes? Does he trail after him like a bodyguard at first? He spent decades protecting Zane and following his orders. Does he still look to Zane for orders for a while? Does he ever try and call on his dragon form instead of using his powers normally?

Oh man, you have no idea how much I want to talk about this. I have the idea figured out in my head all the way through this AU, I know what's coming next and what'll follow that. How I'll "conclude" it, so to speak.

But just being able to think of the different ways their time in the other Realm has effected them? I'm totally down to ramble. Even if I can't ramble about everything 😂.

There's definitely going to be some baggage brought back from the Never-Realm, and it'll be spoken about unlike in the show where Zane experienced 40+ years of manipulation only to never mention it again (I mean, I get new season, new plot progression, but really? Give me character development and onscreen healing).

Anyway!

Even with the both of them being fairly trapped in their own way, Zane under the throes of amnesia and being kept in check due to his trust in Vex, to Cole's slipping awareness of the control that's still on him, and his drive to protect Zane; old habits are definitely going to die hard.

They definitely won't entirely be themselves when they get back. What happened to them during their 40 years of sort of mental limbo will be fuzzy with instances of sharp memories, but overall their clearest memories would be right before they were both corrupted.

Though it's still a shock when the other ninja realise how quiet Cole has become. How he's gone from someone who had a laugh that could be heard from the bottom of the monastery steps to a guy who sits in almost solid silence. His breathing is measured, his movements are almost calculated. And he barely talked, not unless he's spoken to first. It's like his mind checks out, only coming alive if he's being addressed.

And if Zane's in the room too? Cole's attention never once leaves his friend. It stayed fixed, taking in everything that's happening around them in brief glances as if there's a threat just waiting to happen and he needs to spring into a action. Both of them are constantly alert and on edge, and they can't properly explain why, but relaxing is hard.

The first time Cole addressed Zane as "My Emperor," everyone just immediately fell silent. It was during training, a few weeks after Wu had lifted their benching and it seemed that they were getting better. They were falling back into themselves, becoming more at ease. Zane was relaxing, he was cooking more and sleeping through the night. Cole was too, actually staying in bed instead of sneaking out every few hours to check on how Zane was doing.

Neither Zane nor Cole even realise the slip up. Zane's shoulders may have straightened just a little bit, his gaze hardening. Cole might have frozen in his spot, as if the only person that existed in the training area was him and Zane.

Then a quiet, "Uh, guys..?" From Lloyd, followed by a tap to Cole's shoulder from Kai before a careful hold was placed just onto the top of his arm. As if to ground him, to drag their friend back out of his thoughts.

Only, Cole flinched at the touch as if he'd been struck hard. It ended with Kai on the floor, his arm twisted behind his back, Cole's knee resting against his back and a low growl coming from his throat.

It only took Zane to bring Cole back, a cold handed touch to the back of his hand, and he immediately stood up and stepped away. Eyes widening, realisation crashing down on the both of them as to what had just taken place.

Both Zane and Cole went their seperate ways that day. Zane hiding out in his room, curtains drawn and door locked; and Cole finding solace alone in the mech hanger downstairs. He didn't speak for a few days afterwards.

Zane still uses his power, though it's tentative. Small flurries of snow, ice patches but nothing huge. He prefers using weapons, anything to seperate himself from the Emperor.

Cole hadn't used his powers at all since he got back. He draws in on himself at the clang of a sword. If his breath fogs even slightly its like the blood rushes from his face.

He hasn't touched his scythe either, or any other form of weaponry. He just observes training from the side, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

No one even mentions the white hair.

This is getting a bit lengthy! 😂

I don't want to clog up people's feed so I'll draw it to a close here! But I love that AU so much, and I love talking about it! Thank you for sending the ask!! It gets the ideas flowing!

#The Ice Emperor and the Earth Dragon AU #cole ninjago #zane ninjago #the ice emperor #vex ninjago #mcfanely aus #Anon #Asks #mcfanely speaks

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yandere-daydreams · 5 years

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Omega Todoroki and Alpha Darling who makes a passing comment of “Oh you’re totally cute but I can’t imagine being with you at all. You’re like a little brother to me- almost a son, actually.” Because all they see from Todo so desperately clinging to them and getting their scent on his things is just like, puppies trying to imitate their parents or maybe him trying to find comfort. They’ve been told they exude a calming scent for an Alpha, and thats what they assume he’s been doing.

Omega!Todoroki is just,,, absolutely amazing to me. He’s the needy brat he’s meant to be. Also, just for clarification, Todoroki is the side-kick of an older Hero, in this, not long after he graduates. It should go without saying that he has quite a bit of baggage around parental-figures…

TW: Toxic Relationship, Manipulation, and A/B/O Dynamics (heats, pheromones, etc…).

He liked to sit on your lap. You’d come to realize that, recently.

Even now, Shoto was straddling your thighs, cuddled up to your chest and slotted against the crook of your neck, rubbing his cheek just below your scent gland, like he was trying to get himself scented. It wasn’t anything new to you, not when Shoto seemed so insistent on showing you affection, but he was damn-near desperate today, warm breath fanning over your neck, his pheromones soon making it difficult to move, blink, breath without running the risk of losing control and doing…

And doing something an Alpha would do, to a vulnerable, young Omega.

Weakly, you tried to push him away, blinking yourself out of your tired daze. You must’ve made the mistake of falling asleep in your office before your hardworking, oh-so-determined side-kick left the agency, resulting in an empty building and an undeterred Shoto. If it was anyone else, you would’ve kicked him out months ago, especially when he refused to take ‘no’ for answer, but between everything he told you about his father, what his siblings went through, fuck, how much other Heroes would want to use his quirk, you weren’t sure if he’d be any safer working under another Alpha than he was distracting you. Out of concern alone, you bit back your complaints, forcing his smaller form away from you as Shoto blicked, hardly adjusting to the distance before reaching out, leaning forward as he whimpered at the lack of contact.

“Go home, Todoroki.” You tried to sound empathetic, but the exhaustion made it difficult. He didn’t seem to mind, though, only whining while you kept him at a distance. “Nothing’s going to happen, alright? You’re like-”

“I’m like a son to you,” He finished, knowing the mantra just as well as you did. You’d repeated it dozens of times, hunderds, if you counted press-events and meet-and-greets, but he never seemed to fully grasp what it meant. Either way, the interruption made you falter, Shoto slipping past your weakened hold and wrapping his arms around your waist, nuzzling into you just as frantically as he had been a moment ago. “Or were you going to call me your brother, today? I could pretend, if you’re into that,” He mused, something sharp hitting your senses. Shoto had always been one of the more… obvious Omegas, but his scent was smothering, tonight. Fighting against your own calming aura, the haze you’d attributed to your sleep deprivation becoming a thick, clouding fog, overpowering you before you even had a chance to react. “I’d be anything for you.”

It took you longer than you were proud of to realize what was happening, the slick slowly soaking through his uniform just as much of an indicator as the heavy breaths pushing against your chest, how fast his heart was beating, his new-found concentration on your scent. You’d seen these kinds of symptoms before, or heard of them, at least.

Shoto was in heat. Or the beginnings of one, at least.

He was in heat, and he was sitting in your lap.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re supposed to be on suppressants! I got you suppressants.” You weren’t gentle, this time, shoving him into your desk as you moved to get up, to get out, before you did something you’d regret. He was resilient, though, only grabbing your collar, pulling you against him as he shifted onto your desk, pushing files and supplies to the ground as he tried to kiss you.

Shoto pouted as you avoided it, and settling to dig your nails into the wood and claw when you realized he wasn’t going to relent. He pecked at your jaw between words, instead, fiddling with the buttons of your shirt when you failed to bat him away. “I stopped taking them. They made me feel… bad, like I wasn’t really here. I didn’t like it.” He paused, teeth grazing against your ear as he looked for something to mark. “But, I’d be a good mate, wouldn’t I? I’m sure Gang Orca would think so.” You stiffened at the mention of another Alpha (an Apex, at that), internally pulling him closer, letting your head fall to his shoulder. Shoto just laughed, as unbothered as he was fucking crazy. “I could call up my old teacher, too. Do you want me to spend my heat with Aizawa, instead?”

He reached for the phone at his side, letting you go willingly for the first time all night. But, you weren’t as eager to get rid of him.

You bit him. Hard.

It was too far down, too harsh to leave a proper mating-mark, but it was enough for Shoto, grinning as he pushed you into him, his scent only becoming more suffocating with every inhale. What thoughts you could still form were focused on rationalizing, justifying, saving yourself from the overwhelming, overpowering guilt slowly seeping into your mind. You hadn’t been lying, he was like a son to you, a sensitive stray puppy who got attached to the first owner to show it any favor.

But, you tried to tell yourself that he was better off with you than anyone else. If he went to another Hero, starry-eyed and during the strongest phrase of his heat, he’d be used, abandoned, mistreated. Giving him what he wanted, keeping him safe, was the best option.

Even if you doubted there was a wide gap between you and these other Alphas.

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afni-fics · 4 years

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Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 8: The Bandit Tower

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 8: The Bandit Tower by C_R_Scott Chapters: 8/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Red Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Tim Drake, Lucien Flavius Additional Tags: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Skyrim/DCU crossover, Reluctant Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Not Beta Read Summary:

In the pre-dawn hours, Tim and Lucien begin their journey to Bleak Falls Barrows. Along the way, they come upon an old abandoned watchtower...

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

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About an hour before sunrise. Tim left Gerdur's home without waking its occupants and went to wait for Lucien on the bridge that lead out of town towards the mountains. He nibbled on some bread and cheese as he listened to the sound of the water rushing over the rocks underneath him. It was a calming sound that soothed his jangled nerves somewhat, and also helped distract him just a little from the fact that he had no access to coffee.

Now that several days had passed since first waking up on that road to Helgen, his body had acclimated enough to remind him, at that god-awful pre-dawn hour, oh by-the-way aren't we addicted to caffeine and why haven't you gotten your fix yet?! Unfortunately, far as he could find from both the inns in Riverwood and in Whiterun, coffee just didn't exist in Skyrim. Apparently Nords just woke up and powered through mornings like Kryptonians.

On top of the growing headache behind his eyes that always signaled the first miserable sign of caffiene withdrawl, Tim was also coping with the lingering pain from his burns. Though he'd used the balm and re-wrapped his torso, upper left arm, and shoulder in linen bandages, the ache of the burn had made it nearly impossible to sleep, especially since he couldn't reach the entire burn area on his back. There were areas he just couldn't get to on his own, and he hadn't wanted to ask for help from anyone else.

So he was sore, tired, and feeling irritable at hell. If it weren't for the weight of the three hundred gold coins resting in pouch at his waist, he would've seriously considered leaving Lucien behind to spare him the pain of dealing with his foul mood. The poor museum man just didn't deserve that.

"I'm going to step out on a limb and guess you are not typically a morning person."

Tim glanced toward the voice and scanned Lucien carefully. While the man had professed not to be much of a fighter, at least he had the sense to know how to dress for the climate they were about to travel into. He appeared to be wearing multiple, sensible layers of clothing meant to keep him warm underneath a long robe that was trimmed with intricate embroidery and had a hood that was already drawn over his head. Above that he wore long fur cloak that settled upon his shoulders and down his back. The man also had a backpack that was probably filled with his research gear, a small oil lantern that was clipped to one side of his belt, and a sheathed sword strapped to the other side.

Tim smiled wryly. "I've always been more of a night owl," he said, hoping belatedly that owls were actually a bird that existed in this place.

Apparently they were as Lucien gave him a sympathetic look. "I understand completely. Used to be the same way when I entered university a few years back. Here." The scholar reached into his bag and pulled out what looked like a leather waterskin.

Tim took the waterskin and noticed it felt warm. He gave Lucien a quizzical look.

"It's a blend of tea I concocted to help with these kinds of mornings. Brewed some up and made enough for both of us. I figured it was the least I could do for surprising you last night with 'extra baggage' for your trip to the Barrows." Lucien urged Tim to try it.

Curiously, Tim did take sip. It definitely wasn't coffee, but as far as teas went it wasn't that bad. There was definitely a strong herbal quality to it, though Tim couldn't even begin to identify what it could be from. There was also a slight smokiness to the flavor as well, as if there was some sort of roasted grain mixed in. But most important of all, whatever was in it was taking the edge off his caffeine withdrawl symptoms.

"Thanks Lucien. I really needed that," he said after a moment.

"Wonderful! Shall we be off then?"

***

When the pair of them left Riverwood, though the sun hadn't risen yet the sky was clear. Unfortunately, the further up the mountain they went towards the Barrows, the worse the weather got. First there was fog. Then there was snow. Tim had shrugged his own fur cloak into a better position to cover more of his body. A glance backward confirmed Lucien had done the same. It was clear neither of them were acclimated to this kind of weather, not like the local Nords.

"How long do you think it will take to reach the Barrow?" Lucien asked as he paused to warm his hands over his small oil lantern.

Tim made a mental note to purchase a lantern the next time he saw one at a general store. "Gerdur said that once we reach the abandoned tower, we should be about halfway there."

They continued their trek up the barely there path for about an hour. The snow and the fog made it hard to see more than a few yards far in front of them. For awhile there, Tim wondered if perhaps they had missed seeing the abandoned tower at all.

As their path began to level off where the mountain began to naturally plateau Tim could finally see it. There was an old stone watchtower set right at the edge of a steep cliff overlooking the valley below.

"Finally," Lucien said as he caught sight of the tower as well. "Let's stop there for a bit of a rest before going up the rest of the way."

Tim almost agreed with him, but then he noticed movement around the base of the tower. "Wait!" he said as he reached out to snag Lucien by the cloak and dragged him behind a large pile of rocks.

"What's wron--" Lucien started to ask, but was startled by the expression on his companion's face. Tim's face was a mask of deadly serious focus as he stared at the tower from behind the cover of the rocks.

"There are people at the tower. At least two."

Lucien peeked over the top of the rocks, eyes squinting as he tried to see through the fog and snow. "They must be the bandits that have taken root in this area. But are you sure about the number? I can barely see the outline of the tower through all this mist, let alone any people." When he didn't get an answer, Lucien glanced to his side. "Timothy?"

Much to his surprise, he was all alone except for Tim's footprints winding around the rocks in the snow.

***

Tim stealthily moved closer to the tower by slinking from cover to cover. He hoped Lucien would take the unspoken hint and stay behind until he was done.

This... felt good. Hiding in shadows. Keeping a civilian safe. Creeping up on goons/bandits while he plotted their inevitable takedown. Finally, for the first time since arriving in Skyrim, Tim felt like himself.

From where he sat, he could see that there was just a change in the guard. One who had been standing at a post a few yards from the tower entrance was swapped by another who'd walked out from it. Tim counted his lucky stars. It was this movement that had caught his attention earlier. Due to the weather, if it had just been the guard standing there, he might not have caught sight of him until it was too late.

Once the other guard disappeared into the tower, leaving his partner alone, Tim made his move.

The solid THUNK of the steel dagger embedding itself in the trunk of the tree he'd been leaning on immediately caught the attention of the bandit guard, startling him from his attempt to stay warm at his post.

"What the--?!" he exclaimed as he whipped his head to the left and saw the dagger vibrating mere inches from his nose. Then the sound of rustling in a nearby set of bushes, and the sight of the snow-laden branches jostling around immediately caught his eye. It looked as if there was a shadow hunched behind it. With a growl, the guard immediately drew his sword and rushed the bushes, prepared to slice open whoever had thrown the dagger. However, he ended up choking on his warcry as he saw that there was nothing but a backpack sitting in the snow. "Huh?"

Tim smirked as he crept out from behind a large boulder, his quarterstaff a comfortable weight in his hands as he prepared to swing it at his unsuspecting target.

***

The sound of a body falling to the ground with a muffled groan after a series of suspicious thudding noises caught the attention of the original guard as she poked her head out of the tower's entrance. This one drew her bow and nocked an arrow immediately upon seeing that their compatriot was not where he was supposed to be. Cautiously, she walked across the bridge that led to the mountainside. Then she saw the body of the other guard.

"Skialg!" she called out with alarm. Caution thrown to the wind, she rushed forward to check on him, though, she never saw the staff that jutted out in front of her feet, tripping her into the snow.

The moment the bow was out of her hands, Tim stepped out and kicked it well out of reach. The female Nord bandit looked up to find a wooden staff pointed ominously at her face. Her eyes widened in horror.

"You've got two choices," Tim said with a dark smirk and a low tone. "You can either jog down the mountain and never come back, or you can end up like your friend there, taking a nap in the snow. Which would you prefer?"

Tim was ready for a counterattack, and was mildly surprised when it never came. He was expecting anger and retaliation. Instead, there appeared to be genuine terror on the woman's face as she nervously scrambled to her feet and booked it down the mountain path, racing past Lucien without a second though even though she could clearly see him.

As soon as she was out of sight, Tim relaxed and rested his staff on his shoulder. "Well that was disappointing," he said as Lucien walked up to him. Though the sky was still overcast, somewhere beyond the clouds the sun had risen and had lightened up their surroundings considerably. "Are bandits around here always so skittish?"

"Well how would you feel if you had a mage's staff aimed at your face?" Lucien said with a disapproving frown. "Honestly, Timothy! A Fire Blast or Sparks or Frostbite at point-blank range like that would have been completely excessive and resulted in backlash on you as well as your target. Who taught you how to use a staff with such bad form anyways?"

"Mage's staff?" Tim looked at Lucien with confusion.

Lucien noticed the odd look Tim gave him, then motioned for TIm to give him the staff. Without protest, Tim handed it over. After a moment, it was the scholar's turn to look confused. "Wait... Is this... Just a stick?"

"Actually, it's a quarterstaff."

"But... Wait, so you don't use magic at all?"

"No."

"But you carry staff."

"Yes."

"That has no magic whatsoever."

"I guess not? Wasn't expecting it to when I bought it."

"But... What do you do with this, if not to cast spells?"

Tim blinked at him, then rubbed the back of his neck. "I just... well... hit people with it?"

Lucien gaped at him. "And, that works?"

Tim pointed at the other bandit that was still unconscious.

"Mara's mercy! Did you actually kill that bandit with a stick?!" Lucien went over and poked the bandit with Tim's quarterstaff experimentally

Tim sighed. "No, he's not dead. Just unconscious. He'll be out for hours, and we'll be long gone by then."

Lucien straightened up with a contemplative expression on his face. "So... your entire plan to get us past the bandits on our way to the Barrow was to sneak up on your own, with just a stick, to bludgeon a pair of bandits into Oblivion, but not really because you had no intention of actually killing them?"

"Yeah. Pretty much," Tim remarked as he went back to the original guard's tree. He tugged the dagger out of its bark and then went to retrieve his backpack from where he'd thrown it earlier. "Maybe it doesn't make sense to you, but even if they're bandits and on the wrong side of the law, they're still people with lives and possibly even families. To end their lives so casually, as if they were worth nothing at all..." He sighed as he closed up his pack. "It's just... not the way I was raised. Ending another human life should never be an option if there are other solutions available."

When Tim looked at Lucien again, he found the scholar studying him in a way that made him feel a little uncomfortable, like he was a puzzle needing to be solved. "That's a very noble sentiment. Truly in the spirit of Stendarr himself," Lucien finally said as he handed the quarterstaff back to Tim. "Hopefully it won't get you killed one day. Tamriel could use more people who thought like you do, though I doubt the bandits on the road will show us the same mercy."

Tim gave Lucien a weak smile. "Hopefully," he echoed. Then he motioned for Lucien to wait as he took a few minutes to drag the still unconscious bandit back into the tower. When Tim came back out to continue his journey with Lucien to the Barrows, he shrugged his shoulders at the odd look the scholar gave him. "What? It wouldn't be much better if I left him out in the open to die of exposure or to be eaten by a wolf."

Lucien laughed as he walked alongside Tim once more up the mountainside. "Somewhere up in the shrubbery there's a starving wolf that's sure to be cursing your name right now."

"Well lucky for me, I've got a big stick."

-------------------------

Author Note: This is being pantsed more than plotted, and this is not beta read. We'll see where this journey takes us. Mostly I'm just doing this for my own amusement.

Note: If you have any questions about the playthrough and Tim's feelings/experiences that aren't described in the chapters, please ask me in the comments. I'll do my best to answer your questions as best I can.

#elder scrolls dc #skyrim fanfiction #tes 5 skyrim #tim drake #red robin #batfam fanfic #wip #afewnovelideas #crossover

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ardentmuse · 5 years

Note

for your 2k maybe harry potter with #34? ♥️💖💕

Divine Interpretation

Harry Potter - Harry Potter x Reader

34. Yep, shouldn’t have said that. Regretted it immediately.

Wordcount: 1.5k

Warnings: talk of death, talk of sex, general teenage awkwardness

Masterlist

A/N: Ugh, I love Harry. My poor sweet baby boy. I hope you enjoy, love! Thanks for sending this through!

Harry had lost your trail somewhere in the courtyard. A crowd of third years returning from Care of Magical Creatures blocked his path. He had only seen the top of your head start into the castle before you disappeared. And now he was thoroughly lost.

It had been quite the sprint after class was dismissed to find you at all. You ran out of the Divinations classroom before Trelawney had even begun to assign the homework. You had been sitting across from Lavender, reciting to each other from your dream notebooks and taking turns interpreting their contents. All Harry noticed from where he and Ron sat as Lavender snatch your notebook, lean in close and whisper something and before she could even finish, you slammed in your stool and ran out the door.

And so now Harry stood outside the one place he really didn’t want to look for you, but he hoped if your friendship with Hermione meant anything, it was that you both might enjoy the same places to hide from prying eyes.

“Y/N?” Harry whispered as he slipped into the second floor girl’s bathroom. The stone sinks bore the destruction of three years earlier and Harry swallowed hard at the memory of those events. This school, this place that was home and happiness in so many ways, also never failed to remind him of all the pain, too.

A whoosh of cold overtook Harry’s body as he slowly stepped into the corridor of stalls.

“Harry Potter is looking for someone?” Myrtle asked as she stopped in front of the boy, batting her eyelashes in a way that was much more creepy than it was seductive.

“Uh, yes. Hi, Myrtle. I was wondering if you had seen someone come in here. About this tall and –“

“You didn’t come here to see me?” Myrtle asked. The waterworks were already starting and Harry was quickly remembering why he didn’t want to look for you in here in the first place.

Myrtle threw herself back into her stall, her titular moaning growing in strength by the second.

“No, no. Of course, I’m here to see you. But I’m also looking for Y/N so if you could help me—“

“Do you like Y/N?” Myrtle asked, her cries turning to sniffles as she watched Harry closely.

Harry was finding it hard to figure out what exactly Myrtle wanted, but Harry needed answers. You had never been the type to storm off before, always poised and patient and just a little bit too willing to accommodate others. You were a constant. In a school that looked at him with a mix of awe, wonder, and outright fear, you looked at him with kindness. And to see you hurting, it was honestly a little too much for him. Harry knew a thing or two about hurt, especially now after Cedric. You had sat with him in the courtyard while he recalled his nightmares of seeing his lifeless body on the ground, the searing pain coursing through his body and the hands of Pettigrew, the guilt and anger and doubt that accompanied so few people believing him. You were there, you were kind, and you always knew what to say. Or maybe you didn’t and Harry just liked hearing anything from your mouth as you ran your fingers through his hair and smiled at him. If he could offer you even the tiniest bit of comfort the way you had him, he was going to do it.

“Um, yeah, I like Y/N. A lot. That’s why I need to find—“

“YOU DON’T LIKE ME!” Myrtle screamed, the nose deafening and sending alarm bells firing off in Harry’s head. “Nobody likes Myrtle. Stupid Myrtle. Silly Myrtle. Ugly Myrtle.”

“Of course, I like you, Myrtle. We’re friends, remember?”

“But Harry Potter is dating –“

“We’re not dating. I mean, I’d like to be but—“

At that, Myrtle completely lost it. She dove into her toilet and her cries resonated through the pipes in a way that Harry thought could be heard for several floors above and below. Harry moved forward to try and comfort the ghost, but a hand grabbed his shoulder and dragged him out of the bathroom.

When Harry got his bearings, the screams a little diluted now out in the hall, Harry turned to see your face holding back a tiny smile.

“That was a silly thing to do, you know.”

“Yep, shouldn’t have said that. Regretted it immediately,” Harry confirmed with a nervous chuckle. You were standing just a little too close and your eyes were scanning his face slowly. And Harry was only now realizing that you might have heard the thing that set Myrtle off, a nervous confession of his heart at a flustered and infuriating ghost.

“It may have been unwise but I’m glad you said it.”

Harry’s gaze flicked up to meet yours. You were smiling full now and inching just the tiniest bit closer to him. He really was a goner if the soft curl of your lips and the scent of your robes were clouding his head already.

“Re-really?” he whispered, his eyes unable to pull themselves away from your mouth.

“Yeah,” you said, “It’s good for Myrtle to know where she stands. I wouldn’t want any extra competition.”

Harry’s mind was having difficulty processing everything. Maybe Myrtle’s screams had rendered him stupid, but he was getting the impression that you felt the same way he did. But that couldn’t be right. Who would willingly sign up for the lump of baggage and confusion that he was, especially someone was breathtaking and clever as you?

When Harry didn’t respond, you pulled away and turned your head down.

“Now I’m the one who regrets saying something,” you said to yourself before meeting Harry’s gaze once more. “Just forget it and –“

Harry’s brain short-circuited at your confusion and all he could do was kiss you.

Those lips.

Those lips had been taunting him for months, and for the entirety of this conversion. Those stupid, beautiful, kind, kissable lips. And god, were they just as sweet and supple as he had dreamed – though he’d left those details out of the diaries for Divinations. No, those dreams were his alone.

When Harry pulled away, the taste of you upon him lifted a bit of the fog of his mind. This was real, you were here, and you weren’t running away.

Your fingers came up to caress your lips and Harry watched, enamored.

“Just how I dreamt it,” you said.

And Harry laughed, not at you dreaming of a kiss – he did that every night with you when he could push the dark thoughts away long enough to enjoy himself – but because he now understood exactly what sent you running out of the Divinations classroom. Lavender was the worst place to get advice on such things.

“You could just leave those parts out of your dream notebooks,” Harry said, catching your chin under his fingers, hoping you’ll look at him again. “That’s what I do.”

“You have a lot of these dreams?” you asked.

“Too many.”

“Maybe we can get it out of our systems together during the day? That way we don’t have to lie in our diaries?” You were biting your lip now and Harry found himself overjoyed by the sight of you just as vulnerable and awkward as he was.

“I doubt I’ll ever be able to get you out of my system. I’ll probably just end up having more detailed dreams about you and fail Divinations for submitting erotica as homework.”

You spit out your laugh as Harry’s face turned cold.

“Shouldn’t have said that either,” Harry whispered to himself with a shake of the head but your hand found his wrist tucked into his robes and soon your fingers were intertwined.

“Do you regret it?” you asked as you pulled Harry down the hall. To where, he wasn’t sure.

“If it makes you laugh and has you holding my hand, then I don’t think so.”

You turned over your shoulder and smiled at him. And as your eyes scanned around the corridor, Harry was unsure what you had planned. But soon he found himself lightly pushed into a supply closet, the door shut behind him. A broom hit the floor as your body became flush with his own, the darkness only adding to the details of your touch that he was determine to memorize. Myrtle’s cries were but a soft whisper in the walls now.

As you lips gently found his own once more, he held softly to your hips. And Harry knew for sure he’d have quite a few more things to leave out of his dream journal tomorrow. Maybe he’d make up something about death. Trelawney always liked that.

All tags: @fangirlandnerd, @aerdnandreaa, @thisisbullshytt, @cancerousjojian, @whovianayesha, @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy, @luna-xxxxx, @sleepylunarwolf, @starryrevelations, @potter-thinking, @all-by-myself98, @bananafosters-and-books, @cutie-bug, @igotmadskills, @hazelandcoconuts

Harry Potter tags: @tessimagines, @0-lost-in-stereo-0, @whysoseriouspadfoot, @eldritchscreech, @luckyvirgo, @hellizhelusive2, @lexrius, @sapphireorchid

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines #hp imagine #hp imagines #harry james potter #reader insert #x reader #bluemadcnna #lia talks #ardentmuse almost 2k celebration

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srhlsx · 4 years

Text

CHAPTER 21

master | ch. 20 | ch. 22

You realized that you were being a little immature about things, but you never really handled discomfort well and your decision to avoid Iwaizumi stuck. Oikawa was little help in that area. After your talk in the dance studio that day, you didn’t feel it was right to bother him with your own emotional baggage so you kept it stowed away inside your mind to collect dust.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)!”

You snapped back into reality, shaking your head to clear away the fog that was clouding your mind. How long had you been spacing out for? “Sorry,” You mumbled. You looked up from where your gaze had been focused on the floor to the awaiting members of the dance team.

They looked at one another nervously, silently asking what could be wrong with their captain for her to space out so easily during practice. Your focus never wavered so they knew it had to be something serious. They waited patiently, enjoying the brief break they were allowed at your expense.

“Um,” You looked around, eyebrows furrowed as you thought. For once in your life you just weren’t in it. Your heart and mind were somewhere else. “I’m sorry, everyone. Let’s call it for today? Go home and rest, eat a good meal, all that nonsense.”

The team let out a collective sigh, some girls even letting a smile cross their features at the thought of being able to go home early. It was surprising, with the competition to qualify for national’s coming up, it was expected to be practicing deep into the night.

You stayed behind to clean up while the rest of the team cleared out. You were putting away the towels and mop when you heard Ichika call out from the door to you, “You have a visitor~” She sang.

You peeked around the door of the storage room and immediately felt your heart sink. Iwaizumi stood there, still in his uniform which meant he had been waiting since the end of the school day. Ichika studied your interaction for a moment, wondering if she should leave or not. She wasn’t stupid, she knew sexual tension when she saw it. Saying goodbye to you with a wave, she left you to be alone with the boy you were trying to avoid.

You went for the childish route and didn’t say anything, just shut the storage room door and walked over to your things. Feeling Iwaizumi’s eyes on your movements, you did your best to not look at him. Maybe he wasn’t there. Or maybe if you didn’t acknowledge him then you wouldn’t have to address anything and you could just go home-

“(Y/n), ignoring me isn’t going to make me go away.”

Damn.

“I’m not ignoring you.” You said, your voice was way higher than normal which made you internally cringe.

“You are.” He said bluntly. “You have been. I’m not dumb.”

“I never said you were dumb.” That made you look at him, he was a lot closer to you than you had thought. You reached down to grab your bags, hauling them over your shoulders and turning to face him. “Look, Iwaiz-”

“Don’t.” He cut you off. His tone was hard, loud, and to anyone else it would make them afraid. When you looked him in the eyes, for the first time in days, they held a sad shine to them that told you it was taking everything in his power not to absolutely lose it on you. “Don’t call me that. Don’t shut me out and try to distance yourself.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat that had formed from being called out like that. He was right, you were trying to push him away. “Fine, Hajime,” You started again. “What happened… has been happening between us… I’m sorry about what I said.”

He looked startled, confused, his once angered expression softened considerably as he listened to you. He saw how nervous you were, distracted by your own thoughts and all he wanted to do was reach out and hold you. Iwaizumi knew that if he reached out to you it would go one of two ways; either you would return the embrace and things would be okay, or you would reject him. The mere thought of the second option terrified him and he didn’t think his heart could handle you pushing him away.

“I think that, with your season being over, you were really sad and came to me.” You spoke again. “And I took advantage of that moment and said something that wasn’t what you needed to hear in that moment, that was selfish of me.”

“(Y/n),” His voice was barely above a whisper. “That’s not true, at all. I-”

“You don’t have to explain, Haji.” You said. “Honestly. It was great, all of it. I don’t regret how I feel-”

“Regret?” He started getting worked up, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to understand all that you were saying to him. “(Y/n), please can we talk about this? Why are you trying to push me away? Why are you acting like things are over? Don’t I get a say in any of this?”

“Haji, I put myself out there and told you how I felt. You didn’t say anything. You’re still not saying anything.” No crying. No fucking crying. “Aren’t things over?”

- - - - -

Oikawa noticed it right away.

Most people didn’t know it, but he was excellent at reading those around him. While it took him a little longer to finally determine what was going on between you and Iwaizumi initially, he instantly knew when things suddenly made a turn for the worse. You were skilled at keeping your emotions in check so the way that you acted towards him and the other third years was no different than it had been the entire school year.

But towards the ace? You were acting… distant.

You decided the best course of action was to treat Iwaizumi the same way you would treat any other guy friend, besides Oikawa because you were still fake dating, but to anyone on the outside Iwaizumi Hajime was on the same level to you as Matsukawa or Hanamaki. He was the friend of your boyfriend, who happened to be in all your classes.

This was killing you inside.

Something had finally broken in you after that day in the dance studio. The way he looked at you, the way he still hadn’t said anything to you. It made you feel lost. It made you feel alone. It made you cry into your pillow at night, the same one that you were ashamed to admit still smelled a little bit like him. Most of all it made you feel, very deeply, in love with him. So acting like he was just your friend was not easy.

You were staring at a pile of boxes near the main administrative office of the school, your hands on your hips as you thought about how you were to accomplish the task in front of you. The boxes were filled with costumes the dance club would wear for the upcoming competition, and while they weren’t necessarily heavy there were more than you could handle in one trip. “D’you need help or somethin’?”

Surprised, you turned your head quickly at the almost unfamiliar voice. Even though the question wasn’t aggressive at all, the scowl on the boy’s face seemed permanently etched onto his features. You nodded and he bent down without another word and easily grabbed two of the three total boxes, you grabbed the last one. Silently, the two of you walked towards the dance studio.

“Tooru only ever calls you Mad Dog, but I assume that’s not actually your given name.” You looked at the stoic boy next to you, the silence getting a little weird.

He pouted his face for a minute before relaxing and looking at you from the corner of his eye. “Kyoutani Kentarou,” He grumbled.

“Well, Kentarou,” You smiled sweetly, seeing his cheeks flush very lightly at your brazen use of his first name. “I really appreciate your help.”

As you walked, you continued to talk idly with the second year. He didn’t say much back in response other than a few grunts, but you didn’t mind. You got the impression he didn’t talk with many people in general and a few times you caught him suppressing a smile at one or two of your poorly told jokes.

“(Y/n)! Mad Dog?” As you approached the dance studio you saw Oikaw coming up towards you, a smile on his face but his eyes a little weirded out when he saw who you were with. “What an odd pair to see together!”

“Kentarou was helping me with these,” You shrugged your shoulders to show Oikawa the boxes you were both holding. The second year boy stood awkwardly off to the side, not exactly sure how he was supposed to act now that his previous captain was around. He’d never quite clicked with the guy, but he respected him enough since Iwaizumi did. And if a girl like you was dating him, then he supposed he was alright. He may not be the most social person at the school, but he did know how to read social cues and he could tell that Oikawa wanted to talk to you about something.

“I can take that one,” He mumbled, motioning with his chin towards the box you were carrying. He bent down a little when you hesitated and nodded again for you to stack the box on top of the ones he was already holding. The added weight was nothing to him and he walked away towards the entrance of the dance studio. Ichika greeted him at the door after waving at you to check what he was holding.

“That was odd.” Oikawa said, grumbling a little bit. In reality he was just surprised you had managed to interact with Mad Dog in a mostly positive way.

“He’s super sweet actually,” You said, scratching the back of your head as you looked up at Oikawa with a closed eye smile. “Anyways, did you need something?”

“(Y/n), the Autumn dance is coming up~” He looked down at you with an excited glint to his chocolate eyes. You hummed to let him know you were listening. “Our last dance as third years. Exciting, isn’t it?”

“I guess,” You shrugged, looking at him skeptically. “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Well, if it’s not too much to ask of you, and if you don’t already have a date, I would be honored to be yours.” He flashed that charming smile of his down at you.

“Who else would I go with, you dummy, people still think we are dating.” You smiled up at him sweetly, pinching his cheek lightly. “I’d love to go with you.”

“Great, because I think we have a really good chance at being voted King and Queen.”

“Oh, get the fuck out of here, Tooru.” You laughed loudly, pushing him away as you turned to walk towards the dance studio. “Here I am thinking that you were being cute about the whole thing. If that’s what you care about, I’ll ask my new friend Kentarou. Or maybe I’ll see if Tendou wanted to go with me? He’s very persistent on social media.”

“No.” Oikawa said quickly, sharply, which made you laugh. “You have to go with me. Besides, we both know that in reality you should be going with-”

“Please don’t, Tooru.” You cut him off, your voice quiet but strong enough that it stopped him.

“You have to talk to him eventually,” He said, reaching up to smooth out your hair as a gust of wind blew by.

“I don’t have to do shit,” You responded, snapping more than you had intended to but the last thing you needed was for Oikawa Tooru to lecture you on your love life. “I’m sorry. I should get going. Let’s go shopping tomorrow for something to wear okay?”

He looked at you with a studying gaze before wrapping an arm around your neck and pulling you in for a short hug. “Okay, (y/n), have fun at club.”

TAGS: @iihxneybunz75 @bambisfuneral @svtbitch @gayverlinq @bubbleteaa @keekee-732 @oikawannabeyourbabie @halxma06

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu!! x reader #hq!! x reader #hq!!#hq #hq iwaizumi #haikyuu iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu iwaizumi #x reader #hq reader #hq reader insert #haikyuu reader

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cirrius-akiyo · 4 years

Text

UNPACK THE BAGGAGE

-Parallel to Hold On (Let's Go Home) [Buck's POV]-

Buck has been feeling a bit under the weather for quite some time now. It has started with small throbbing headaches, which he quickly dismiss as fatigue or stress. Then come the sudden spells of dizziness that had caused dark spots to dance behind his eyes. To which he blames his lack of sleep.

He has not bother to tell his husband nor to consult Chimney or Hen because of the gap between the episodes of dizziness or getting light-headed were quite big. It's not like he has a constant throbbing pain to the point he's unable to function, so he doesn't really dwell on that matter.

Then one night came the nose bleeds after he had finished putting Chris to bed. Eddie was still on a shift after switching with Gary in order for one of them to be able to attend the parents-teachers meeting and Eddie had insisted to go this time. Remembering that one time Bobby got it too after the radioactive exposure scare, Buck shoves down his panic and worries into the imaginary bin. At least this time he is sure that he was not exposed to any killer rays.

After cleaning himself, he prepares to go to bed and slipped under the cover. His hand wanders towards the cold empty space beside him. Being by himself in the silence of the night, it is easy for his mind to shift to the last scene of the previous night.

They both had gone to bed angry. In all honesty, Buck doesn't really remember why they were fighting but he knows it was about something trivial. Something mundane on house chores, but he was tired and he snapped at Eddie.

The next morning he has said his apologies and Eddie had kissed him goodbye before leaving for work.

"I'm in my bed

And you're not here

And there's no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands

Forget what I said

It's not what I meant

And I can't take it back

I can't unpack the baggage you left"

///

It is the night of the parents-teachers meeting and Eddie has left a while ago after finishing his 12 hours shift, leaving Buck to complete the rest of his 24 hours. Chris doesn't need to attend the meeting so he's at Abuela's, most likely in food coma now.

Once in a while, the unwelcome ache come back niggling at the base of his skull but Buck doesn't let them bothers him. He has learnt to live with them for a while. He really doesn't want any unwanted attention on him and be the man that has too many baggages, the firehouse doesn't need to divert their attention to a firefighter who simply has recurring headaches.

What is he really looking forward to right now is to go back home and cuddle with his husband, preferably while hearing the praises the teachers must have showers their son with.

Thinking about his family somehow able to chase the pain away to the point it is unnoticeable.

He simply smiles to the thought of his little family and his smile just get wider when Hen throws him a knowing look.

Their relationship is not without hiccup, but they've got through it all together. They both believe in healthy communication and no-sad-no-bad-secret-rule. Little did he know his belief is about to be tested.

"What am I now?

What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'"

///

"I kissed Ana."

Not the three words Eddie usually says to him before bed.

At Eddie's thundering confession, Buck can feel his heart break, but he also literally can hear his mind cracked. Like his whole body is about to pop out of his skin.

Buck tries to find the logical reasoning for this confession and alcohol is usually to be blamed.

Eddie then has refuted on the possibility of getting drunk during a parent-teacher meeting and Buck doesn't know what to do about that. Did Eddie kissed Ana because Buck snapped at him the night before? Did he fucked up so bad? Did he do anything that has pushed Eddie away? His brain immediately went into overdrive and so he froze eventhough he can hear the strings of apologies that fell out if Eddie's mouth.

Then come the tears.

"What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'"

///

That night Eddie had held him while whispering strings of apologies into his ears, swaddles him with comforting words. But despite the lightness of Eddie's words towards him, Buck feels like the weight of the world is crushing him down. He feels like the exhaustion and the fatigues of the past few weeks are squeezing him dry. He's frustrated and tired and the tears doesn't seem stop any time soon. After baring his soul out, he finally succumbs to sleep, seeking momentarily solitude from bitter reality.

His sleep was not a peaceful one. Once in a while he'll wake up to either nightmare or sudden panic washed over him. He had thought of leaving to sleep in Chris' bedroom, but Eddie has keep him tight in his embrace. Dull ache keep pulsating in his head and so he nuzzles himself deeper into Eddie's hold. His husband's smell always able to keep him grounded and for a moment he believes in his wishful thinking that everything will work out later.

"You said you cared

And you missed me, too

And I'm well aware I write too many songs about you

And the coffee's out

At the Beachwood Café

And it kills me 'cause I know we've run out of things we can say"

///

Buck woke up that morning to warm kisses peppered on his neck and jaw. He still feel sluggish and not well rested but to see Eddie's warm brown eyes full of guilt and sadness just tug his heart in the wrong way. It is easier for him to remain angry at his husband but with their history, he knows anger doesn't do any good to either of them. So he reciprocate when Eddie's lips touch his, welcoming the warm feeling while trying to shove the thought that this lips had been on another woman last night.

Initially he was hopeful for a busy day that will give enough distraction to him, but now he is thankful for the minor calls that came in as his head is literally pounding him to the ground.

They had start their morning routine as per usual but Buck had noticed how Eddie has been working hard to give him more attention and care. Not that Buck is complaining but with Eddie plastered to his side, it is getting harder to hide the needling pain of the headaches from his husband.

They were doing the inventory when a sharp pain blossom in his head that caused him to falter in his step. Worry immediately etched on Eddie's face as his husband massage the stiff muscle between his neck and shoulder.

"Are you okay, Evan?" Eddie asked.

Buck really hates to cause unnecessary worry to Eddie and so he grit his teeth trying to ignore the pain. "I will be." Buck replied with the most steady voice he could muster.

But Buck did not get better. Every passing moment is an agony but he wills himself to keep going, effectively trying to avoid to be in close vicinity with Chim or Hen.

But then he found himself halfway into the toilet bowl vomiting the little food that he just ate with Eddie a constant present on his side providing silent support.

He feels awful. The pain. The nausea. The heartbreak. The frustration. The exhaustion.

Is he being exhausting right now?

Will Eddie ran away to kiss Ana again now that his mouth full of stomach acid. He's not actually kissable right now.

Buck chases the dark thoughts away while trying to stand up with Eddie's help. Buck's mind is really jumbled up at the moment so sue him if he thinks Eddie is going to leave him alone in his misery.

"Maybe it's migraine." Buck suggested to Eddie who is still actively acting as his support pillar. With all the symptoms he's experiencing, the possibility fits, but then as fast as he heard Eddie humming in agreement, he feels like the single string holding him splintered and sudden blackness consumed him.

"What am I now?

What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'

What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'"

///

All Buck is able to feel right now is fatigue. Extreme fatigue. He can hear white noises all around him but he can't really help himself to care. He feels the fog of unconsciousness slowly dragging him under but as soon as he let the darkness embraces him, stabbing pain prevented him from giving into total sleep.

He feels like he's trapped in between worlds and he hates the idea and the feeling of it. Buck wanted to stay in the world that have Eddie and Chris in it but right now he's encapsulated in a world clustered with pain and agony. Colours keep bursting behind his closed eyelids as waves of nausea hitting him.

He can't help but to let his mind runs the image of Ana substituting Buck in their house. Ana kissing Eddie goodbye. Ana making pancakes with chocolate chips for Chris. Ana on Buck's side of the bed. Ana celebrating Christmas and Halloween with the 118. Ana attending the parent-teacher meeting with Eddie. Ana putting Chris to bed. Maybe later on Ana will give Eddie another child. Maybe a girl so they'll have a pair. Buck had thought of adopting another baby with Eddie but they haven't really discuss it seriously, and now Buck is about to lose his chance.

Pictures of Eddie and Chris with Ana and their faceless child slowly taking over the house, replacing any trace of Buck in it.

Where will Buck be? Who will Buck be?

"And I get the feelin' that you'll never need me again"

///

After feeling like eternity, the line of consciousness finally tugging him awake. Buck can feel a presence beside him, but he's in so much pain that tears are slipping free from the corner of his eyes.

He can feel the warm hands holding his left but he can't make out the owner but the feeling is like coming home.

But later the pain become unbearable to the point that he regrets of being awake.

The hands that are holding him suddenly gone and so as his consciousness. Buck knows no more as he slipped back into a nightmare addled sleep.

"What am I now?

What am I now?

What if you're someone I just want around?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'"

///

Clarity comes to him in stages. At one point he can hear a voice saying his name and Buck simply hums in response. That is his name, right?

Later he can hear Eddie's voice calling him, and he smiles to the thought that his husband is still beside him. At least he's not a lost cause.

When the numbness slowly fades, he can feel familiar calloused hand stroking his jaw and he leans his face into the warm palm silently pleading: please bring him home.

"What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'"

(Falling - Harry Styles)

Eddie’s POV is here: https://cirrius-akiyo.tumblr.com/post/621917028804165632/hold-on-lets-go-home-i-kissed-ana-eddie

#cirrius akiyo's bunkdump #911 fics #911 fic #911 fanfic #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #evan buckley #edmundo diaz #buck!whump #buddie fanfiction #buddie #buddie fic #rambler not writer #songfic #sickfic

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redfoxwritesstuff · 5 years

Text

Coffee and a Wedding (Chapter 12- The End)

Here we are Loves, we've reached the end. I'd like to just take a moment to say Thank You to everyone. Thank You to the long time readers who have jumped with be between characters. Thank You to the new readers who I've watched discover my older works while waiting on updates. Thank You to the new readers whom I may never see again.

This series has been a adventure and I want to thank everyone for going on it with me. It was a adventure in playing with a new writing style, playing with a new type of story. And to think, it all started with the idea of a trope filled on shot for two friends’ birthdays.

There is always something bitter sweet to me about a series ending and with the end of the year near, I find myself looking back at how far I've come. I've finished Silent Song this year. I started and finished Clover and Lace. I finished The Things You Find (In The Rain). And now, I've finished Coffee and a Wedding as well.

I want to thank everyone who donated to the Kofi or cheered me on while I raised funds to go to NYC for my birthday. I want to thank @winterisakiller and @tnystrk-exe who supplied so very many tropes to this tropefest.

Here it is- a special Monday night treat. Chapter 12, about nine hours early.

Masterlist

Chapter 12:

Morning came with a pounding headache and too bright sun. I couldn’t think and I wanted to drink the whole of the ocean, salt be damned. But that would mean moving and moving was something I didn’t want to do. Moving was going to hurt in so many different ways. I swear to God, I am never going to drink again. Not a drop. But that’s what everyone says when confronted with a hangover, right?

Speaking of hurting, everything ached. I fought to right my brain through the fog of the hangover and sleep. I was beyond comfortable, at least I had that much going for me. I was naked, I realized, and pressed against Clint. He was also naked.

His arms were draped around me. My head rested on his chest and shifted slightly with every deep breath he took. The room smelled of stale air and sex. I could feel the dried evidence of the night before on my thighs but my mind couldn’t wrap around what that meant at the moment. Though I knew it was something.

My leg was hooked over his, bent and riding up his thigh. I could feel him resting against it. My hand rested on his chest and even though I was still foggy at best, I couldn’t resist the urge to run my hand over the muscles. One of Clint’s hands rested low on my hip and the other wrapped around my rib cage. His thumb rested under the swell of my breast.

I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay here forever and never face reality again. But that wasn’t an option. The game was coming to a close. Once we got on the plane today, it was all over. He would go back to only being my boss. I would go back to only being an employee. And I’d be okay with that, somehow. I had to be okay with that, somehow.

This shouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have let this happen. It was a mistake. I untangled myself from the sheets and Clint’s arms. He groaned and shifted, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“It’s not morning yet.” He whined. “Come back.”

“Need to shower.” I grumbled, “Go back to sleep.”

I looked passively around the room after slipping on Clint’s shirt. Something to cover myself was better than nothing. The bottle of wine was never even opened. The dress Clint had spent so much money on was in a crumpled heap on the floor along with his suit. His blazer was wet, having soaked up the ice from the bucket as it melted overnight.

After grabbing a change of clothes, I slipped into the bathroom. I’d not seen anything in the trashcan in the lobby and the trashcan in here was empty too. It dawned on me how stupid we were. That’s what I felt dried on my thighs.

Did we talk about it? I couldn’t remember but that didn’t mean we didn’t. It also didn’t mean that we did. Would it be rude to ask now? Was it too late? I mean, let’s be real- Clint’s too responsible to have anything?

I cranked the shower on and used the hot water to wash away as much of my worries as I could. I wasn’t worried about a pregnancy- I had gotten a IUD a few years prior but still. By the time I was out of the shower, I had decided not to worry about things. I felt pretty sure that Clint wouldn’t have given me anything, he was generally responsible, right? I mean, sure this was his mistake as much as mine but still.

By the time I finished washing and dried, Clint had pulled himself out of the bed. He was making coffee in nothing but a pair of shorts when I came out. I had all my things from the bathroom balanced on a towel.

“Coffee’s hot.”

“Thanks. Shower’s free.” I said as if it wasn’t obvious.

“Thanks, Babe.” I ignored him and shoved my few toiletries into the clear travel bag. Of course, Clint noticed and asked, “You okay?”

“Fine. Just tired. Not looking forward to the flight.” I lied.

“Yeah- I could sleep for a year.” Clint nodded only to groan and rub his head. “Here.” He handed me a cup of coffee, doctored to my liking and smiled at me with warmth in his eyes. “I’ll jump in the shower. Check out is in almost two hours.”

“Right. I’ll get packing.”

~~~~~<3

With a hangover between us, there was a blessed silence while we rode in the taxi. He listened as I talked, worked my way through idea after idea as to how I would tell my family that our fake relationship ended.

“I could just tell them that everyone put too much pressure on us.” I decided. “Too much judgment. Too many snide comments. Questions.” I decided. Sometimes simple was better and honestly, if we had a real relationship during this trip it would be a fair reason for it to end. It was hard to ignore all the wonderful things Clint had said when he defended me.

“Okay.” He said.

After a few minutes of silently chewing at my lip, I gave up. “Thank you.” I said. “For putting up with it. For all the drama, trouble. For Matt. You’re almost off the hook and I promise I won’t put you in this position again.”

“I could,” He softly spoke. “put up with it. I mean, for longer.”

“But you don’t have to.” I laughed though I wanted to cry. “Lucky you.”

“And if I wanted too?” I wasn’t sure if I heard him right. I mean, what did that even mean?

“We need to go.” I said instead when the taxi came to a stop. I could see mom getting out of the taxi a few cars in front of us. I didn’t want to talk to her. I didn’t want to see her. I didn’t want to pretend anymore. I wanted to get home and cry.

There was a crack of thunder as Clint opened the taxi door. As I put my foot on the asphalt, the sky opened up. Torrential rains fell from the sky. Yep, that was how my day was going to go.

Clint wrestled the bags out of the trunk and made quick work of checking them in at the curbside baggage drop. I hardly made it out of the cab before he was offering me his hand with a bright smile. In the distance behind him, I could see more and Kurt making their way inside the airport. They looked as tired as I felt. I didn’t think they were paying us any attention.

Still, Clint wasn’t one to take a chance. He pulled me to him and we danced, spinning in the rain. My clothes and hair were quickly soaking up the water, as was his but he didn’t seem to care.

It took a bit for me to give in. But after a few dips, twists and turns he had be smiling at him. I couldn’t help laughing as people watched him pull me into a kiss.

“Get a room.” Someone shouted and I realized it was Kurt.

I had no idea when he and Mom made their way back outside the airport but at some point they did. I rolled my eyes and stepped away from Clint. He didn’t let go of my hand though. I guess the act was back on.

“I’ll call when we get back to the city.” I promised though I knew already that I was more likely going to text them and call it good enough.

“You better.” Mom demanded.

~~~~~<3

I was beyond glad to get off the airplane. The moment we took off, I focused on trying to sleep. Clint seemed to do the same and both of us dozed most of the long flight. Now that we had our bags and my legs were moving, I felt much better. My head was clearer and my heart heavier.

“About last night.” Clint blurted out as we walked by a Starbucks in the airport. I didn’t want to talk about this. I didn’t want to acknowledge this. I didn’t want to give voice to the demon for fear I’d make it real. But he had to go and bring it up.

“It’s fine.” I said, putting on the bravest face I had. “I’m going to go grab a taxi and get home. I’ll see you Monday?”

“Wait a second?” Clint looked between the cafe and me. I smiled and shook my head. “We should talk about it- I mean we-”

“No, it’s fine. We were drunk. It’s whatever. And… I think I want to be alone for a little bit. I haven’t been since we left for the trip, you know?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “I’ll see you Monday.” I smiled as bright as I could and walked away with a wave.

When Clint didn’t follow me, I breathed a heavy breath. It took everything I had to hold myself together. I could close my eyes and still see the weight of everything as it settled on his shoulders. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to carry with him knowing that he got drunk and had sex with his college age employee. He deserved better than that. He was a good man and a good boss.

“Wait!” Clint’s voice had the amazing ability to carry over distances.

I hadn’t thought anything of the sound of running feet- people run in airports. His voice was what made me turn and look. He skidded to a stop in front of me, no coffee in his hands.

“What, Clint?”

“I like you.” He blurted out. “Maybe could even love you.”

“Stop.” It was hard to keep from yelling. His mouth snapped shut. “I am tired. You’re tired. We just spent a whole trip pretending to be in love. We got drunk and had sex. It’s fine. Yeah, I’m young but I’m a big girl. I can handle it. Don’t worry. Just- go home and rest before you feel pressured into making promises or say things you don’t mean.”

“What?” He looked deflated. I told myself it was just that he was tired. He was wound up, thinking he had to do something- to be something for me because the night before.

I said, “I’ll see you Monday.” and turned.

The heels of my boots echoed against the tiles. It felt like the airport was empty and that I was alone yet people moved all around us as I walked away. I didn’t dare to look back, not directly. Instead I used a window as I walked by. It was just reflective enough to see Clint standing where I left him, rooted in place and my heart broke. That was the instant I decided that I wouldn’t see him on Monday. I couldn’t do this. I thought I could but I cant.

~~~~~<3

Somehow, I managed to make it home before breaking down. Even as tears dripped from my chin, I texted mom that we made it home just fine. I told her we had a blast on the trip. She told me of how Sarah had made a scene at the wedding not long after we left. She was wine drunk and screamed at the groomsmen. Matt had to take her back to the hotel room early.

It turned out, Sarah had changed her flight and left not long after we were in the air. She was on a single ticket, leaving Matt behind on the island. What that meant for them or their future was anyone’s guess. While Mom held onto hope that they would work things out. She had hope that Sarah could still accomplish her dreams of going back to school with financial security, I had other ideas. I hoped that it meant that Sarah would file for an annulment and move far away from Matt.

I spent the weekend unpacking. The dress Clint purchased was hung with care in my closet, still needing a trip to the dry cleaners. I hardly left the apartment except for running to the corner store for more wine, more chips and most importantly- ice cream. By the time classes resumed, I planned to not even fit into the cursed dress from the wedding. It wasn’t exactly a healthy coping method but it tasted good at least.

Monday morning came with much dread. I hadn’t heard from Clint all weekend but I hadn’t expected to… But I wanted to. I wanted him to blow up my phone. I wanted him to prove to me he cared. I wanted him to show me I was wrong. I wanted my fairy tale.

But I’m not a child anymore. I don’t get fairy tales. I don’t get fairy tale endings. I get to get wine drunk before four in the afternoon. I get to ignore my phone all morning. I get to block the cafe’s number. I get to block the other supervisors.

By Wednesday morning and my third missed shift, Mr. Barton started calling. Then he texts, wanting to know if everything was alright. Did he do anything wrong? Was I sick? Did I need anything? Finally, he asked for me to just talk to him. I had to answer, somehow. I had to tell him something.

“Mr. Barton, I quit.”

I sent the text with my breath held. I watched with baited breath as the read receipt changed from ‘unread’ to ‘read’. The screen changed to reflect an incoming call from the last person I wanted to talk to. After rejecting the call, I made quick work of blocking the last connecting to Arrowhead cafe.

~~~~~<3

Somehow, I managed to survive until Saturday. I busied myself during my last free week before classes with looking for a new job. Nothing seemed right but I applied with as many positions as I could. I needed something.

Outside, rain poured down in sheets and thunder cracked. Wind whistled down the street and between the buildings. Part of me wondered if power would hold out for the rest of the night. It wouldn’t be the first time this shitty apartment lost power due to a storm and it wouldn’t be the last.

When the pounding started at my door, I almost jumped out of my skin. At first, I wasn’t going to answer. I was riding a nice buzz from the wine and had worked myself a nice sized crater into the tub of Chocolate ice cream I had been nibbling. When the pounding didn’t stop, I had no choice but to slip off the windowsill I had curled up in.

I didn’t think about it what I was wearing as I walked to the door but god, I wish I did. All I knew was the pounding wasn’t stopping and it was almost one in the morning. I didn’t want to open the door without looking through the peep hole but then the last voice I ever wanted to hear came bellowing through the door.

“Alexis!” No. No, not home. Go away. Maybe if I pretended to be asleep? “I just want to talk. To make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine, Mr. Barton.” I tried so hard to sound fine too.

“So I’m ‘Mr. Barton’ now?” He sounded tired and I wondered if it was my fault. Maybe he was having to work extra to pick up my slack. Maybe no one could pick up my shifts. It didn’t matter, though. “Let me in. Let’s talk.”

“Go home. There’s nothing to talk about.” I yelled through the door.

“I’ll stay out here all damn night then! Yelling. You’re neighbors are sure to notice. Maybe someone will call the cops. Want to see what happens?” Oh man, that was a low move. I scrunched my eyes closed and swallowed the urge to scream.

Instead I yanked open the door and reached out, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him inside. The door slammed shut behind him. “That’s not fucking fair.”

“Do you ever wear pants at home?” Clint asked, looking at me than running his hand through his hair and looking away. Right. Boyshorts and a large tee. Why can’t I just be allowed to die. “Doesn’t matter.” He decided as I crossed my arms over my chest.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

“To know why you just up and quit!” He snapped back. “Everything was great and then we got back and you’re just-” He flung his hands out when he couldn’t find the word he wanted.

“Fuck you.” I snarled.

“You did. Or rather. I fucked you and you just-”

“Yes. You fucked me! How could I go back to the cafe after that? Pretending like none of this happened?!”

“I asked if you were sure!” He snapped back before taking a calming breath and running his hands down his too pale face. “Look. We were drunk. I was drunk. But if you didn’t want to- you could have said ‘no’ and I would have stopped in a heartbeat. I’m not- I don’t want to be that kind of man. I never wanted to take advantage of you.”

“You didn’t. I wanted it.” I grumbled the words. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have but dammit I couldn’t let him think even for a moment that I hadn’t been on board with what was happening that night.

“Then what’s the problem?!” Clint’s voice was climbing again.

“I didn’t plan on you going to the wedding. I didn’t plan on spending so much time with you. I didn’t plan to fall in love with you. I didn’t plan any of this, so leave. Just go so I can get over you in peace. Alright? I don’t need-”

“Look- I know you’re pissed off at me right now. I know I showed up unannounced and made a scene. But I think you just said ‘I didn’t plan to fall in love with you’ and I really need you to rewind.”

“I… wait- what?” I didn’t say that. I couldn’t have. Did I? Fucking wine and ice cream.

“Alexis- are you in love with me?” Clint stepped closer.

“What? No. Why would I-?” I couldn’t find the words to properly dig myself out of this. “Look- I just didn’t want to make things hard for you, to put your reputation at risk or anything. It’s bad enough what you had to go through last week.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” At least he wasn’t yelling anymore.

“Because I didn’t- You don’t feel the same way, you couldn’t- I’m me and you’re you. So why get hurt?”

“I don’t feel the same way?” Clint’s face was blank and I nodded. “Jesus Christ- I told you, I tried to tell you- what do I have to do to make you see?!” He snapped. So much for the yelling being done.

“See what?!” I stomped my foot. How very adult of me.

Clint reached out and snagged a hand around my waist. There was nothing I could do to stop myself from crashing into him. A hand tangled in my hair as he pushed his lips against mine. I was tense at first, unsure of what was happening.

Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the fact that this is what I’ve been wanting from the moment I got home but I eventually relaxed. The kiss turned soft and sweet as I ran my hands along his arms, up his chest and rested a hand against the side of his neck. Stubble scratched at my face and his breath fanned over me.

“I love you too.” He whispered.

~~~~~<3

It’s been a few years now, and I still work at Arrowhead Coffee for a few hours on the weekends. The mornings where we opened the cafe together were some of my favorite times, even if he still occasionally flirted with the espresso machine. A girl can’t win every fight.

The sun wasn’t even up yet but in an hour, it would start coloring the sky a little at a time. I still wasn’t really a morning person but this- this was worth it. I was surprised to see the cafe windows still dark. Clint normally at least had some lights on by now.

As I got closer, I realized it wasn’t as dark as I thought. Inside the windows I could see little candles perched on each table. Firelight flickered and danced. Flowers were everywhere.

When I slipped inside, I called for Clint. Soft music played over the speakers. I couldn’t help but laugh when he stepped out of the back. He was far overdressed with his smart suit for working in a cafe.

“May I have this dance?” He asked as he drew closer.

I realized, as I let myself be pulled along the flower petal covered floor that he was wearing the same suit he had worn that night, so long ago. I also realized that the flower petals were getting crushed, squished into the wood floor and that it wasn’t going to be fun to clean this up. Romantic gestures tended to be messy- they don’t show you that in the Lifetime Romcoms.

The song came to an end and for a moment, Clint held me. There wasn’t anywhere else I’d rather be. I couldn’t imagine being in the arms of anyone else. This was paradise. This was heaven.

Clint stepped back and smiled, it was that soft smile that hinted at his lips but danced in his eyes- that smile he so rarely used for anyone or anything but me. I could imagine someday, Clint giving a baby that same smile as he rocked a tiny bundle in his arms.

He sank down to one knee, completely ignoring how flower petals would be worked into his slacks. Reaching into his blazer pocket, he pulled out a box. It wasn’t black but it was velvet- a deep royal purple that matched the colors of the cafe. My breath stuck in my throat as I covered my mouth with my hand. It was a gesture I had made fun of countless times in movies and yet here I was, standing in the candle light doing that exact thing.

“Alexis.” His voice was thick and heavy. It reminded me of how he sounded when he woke in the morning. “I can’t begin to say how much you mean to me. I thought it fitting, since everything started here that this should hopefully start here too. I first saw you here and I was captivated by your smile. This is where our fake relationship started. This is where I fell in love with you- far before you knew it. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. I could only nod, before he even got the box open. I was nodding so much that I probably looked like a bobble head. It didn’t matter because I launched myself in his arms, knocking us both to the ground and the box sliding along the floor.

I didn’t care about rings. He could marry me with a string. “Yes.” I finally choked out, “I’ll marry you.”

~~~~~<3

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#clint barton x oc #Clint Barton x Female Reader #clint barton x reader #clint x reader #clint x original character

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theflashdriver · 5 years

Text

Silvaze Pirate AU: Present or Plunder

I’ve had this for a while, I always thought Silvers powers would be capable of creating a great ghost ship. I hope you enjoy!

"Your majesty, are you certain this is the best course of action?" Gardon, an elderly Koala who served as the royal retainer, whispered to his young ruler. "Forgive my saying this seems a little… blunt? A little too direct perhaps, would you disagree?"

Blaze the cat, the sole monarch of Sol, stood at the bow of a warship; eyes locked on a horizon obscured by mist. Eight of her ships and, if reports were to be believed, countless pirate vessels had undergone a plundering described by many supernatural. Due east of Southern Isle, a few miles from the common trade route, was an area prone to thick fog yet strong winds. When the wind was right merchant ships, desperate to meet deadlines, often took this sub-route in hopes of making up for lost time. No one had been injured, the ships went undamaged, but whenever her vessels had entered the fog an ultimatum allegedly sounded. It was best described as a demand for tribute, the choice to throw their valuables to the depths or have phantasmal light seize them. Regardless of the truth, to steal from vessels bearing her flag was a declaration of war.

"Blunt as it may be, they only attack singular ships; we cannot bring our naval might. I want to put an end to this nonsense as quickly as possible. I'll prove this is a pirate front, apprehend the perpetrators and drag them home for trial." She'd spoken plainly, focused on the task at hand rather than formality, as was often the case.

"Of course your highness, forgive me." The old man lowered his head, regalia jangling as he bowed. "You know I worry."

"I'm aware, though, regardless of the reason for this venture," Blaze spared him a glance, the faintest outline of a smile graced her lips, "It is nice to be outside castle grounds. Especially on less serious business." Though Gardon was Blaze's most trusted advisor he'd practically raised her and that, naturally, came with some baggage. He was the closest she had to a parent, she the closest he had to a daughter and yet she was his ruler. "Do drop the titles, while we're out here at least."

He sighed, resuming his usual high shouldered and stiff posture. "If you insist. Shouldn't be long till we breach the fog, are you prepared?"

Free of her kingdom the feline had shed her royal garb and a far more comfortable outfit had taken its place. A purple long coat, adorned with silver buttons bearing the royal insignia, obscured a white dress shirt. A pair of cavalier boots protected her feet while matching black tights shielded her legs. For fighting her foes, two swords hung at Blaze's waist. They were simple sabres, designed for duelling rather than combat, but her aim was always to subjugate rather than kill. She could, of course, rely upon the curse that ran in her blood but that came with repercussions. If those pirates came to trial branded the news would travel far and fast, dissuading other pirates but terrifying her people. They wanted a princess who'd rule them justly, not some demon sat on the throne.

"I won't know until I face them, will I?" As she spoke, turning fully to Gardon, she found his form faintly obscured. Despite her efforts, the fog had crept up on them. "Ideally this vessel serves as my transport but, if I fail, it's armed for a reason. Have the crew ready themselves, the so-called ghost ship should soon be upon us."

With less than a second's hesitation, the koala turned and began to roar orders in a voice the stark opposite that prior. Blaze heard footsteps pound across the deck and the sounds of heavy canons being rolled into place, all the while her gaze was fixed ahead; awaiting whatever form dared emerge from it. Her fur bristled against the salty wind, ears flickering as she tried to identify any shapes in the fog or hear something besides the crashing of waves.

She folded her arms, brow furrowing at her wasted effort, and turned to the stern of the ship. Despite the mist's attempt to obscure them, she saw men and women stood ready; twenty individuals discounting herself and Gardon. No lives had been taken in prior raids, but had these pirates faced such adversity? Twenty-one soldiers, each prepared to die for their princess, but ultimately; they were twenty-one lives she sought to protect. She'd trained since she could walk but it'd been months since she last truly fought and her presence alone likely wouldn't dissuade her foes, not without some show of power. Perhaps unleashing her curse would be enough; showing those pirates something truly supernatu-

Blaze lurched backwards, the wind had dropped from the sails… no, it was more than that. She cast her eyes up to them only to find they'd fully furled, the ropes that once held them were swaying as if caught in a gale; floating beyond the reach of her crew. Waves broke against the hull of the ship and yet it refused to rock. Before she could turn, Blaze sighted her shadow cast in eerie light; a pulsing blue glow that stretched her shade to its utmost lengths before returning it to its regular shape. Hands at her sword hilts Blaze spun on her heel, jaw shut tight as she steadied herself through bewilderment. The white miasma had been cast cyan; ghostly light shone from her own ship's hull as though it had been slathered in ectoplasm. But that couldn't be the case; it had to be some trick! She racked her mind; it had to be some weather phenomena or a trick of the lig-

"Present or Plunder?" The ultimatum was dealt, a booming voice echoed from the fog. But it was no ghostly moan nor haunting shriek, it was the voice of a regular person. This had to be a trick; it simply had to be!

Flinching at her own hesitation the princess turned back, drawing her swords lest the fool could see her. "You are no privateer! What right do you have to plunder? Pirates shall be punished to the full extent of the law! Surrender lest I drag you from your ship, repent and your lives will be spare!"

Silence swept over the sea, the wind did not whistle and her crew refused to move. Blaze knew she had chosen her words well, her voice was known throughout the land and, furthermore, she had given clear warning. No sailor, on their ship or hers, could claim she hadn't been merciful; other countries would have fired into the fog without hesitation.

The pirate's response was clear. "You have chosen Plunder. Your goods are forfeit. Cast your treasures into the depths or I will take them myself."

"Ready the cannons!" With her word Blaze drew her cutlasses, amber eyes sharpened in an attempt to cut through the fog. Unable to see, she shouted again. "You face the crown! Without surrender, there will be no mercy!"

As her first demand hadn't been met, Blaze doubted her opponent would reconsider but that shout was more intended to bolster her crew. To those of weaker minds and dispositions, this would seem like the attack of an adult. Whatever phenomena caused this ethereal light would, undoubtedly, cause the disappearance of their belongings; she just had to determine how and why.

Just as she began to ponder it, Blaze felt herself grow lighter; there was a tugging at her fingertips. It took but a moment to react but her grasp tightened as a bizarre blaring noise swept across the ship, it sounded like the moan of an alien whale. An invisible force had grabbed hold of her swords and (tug as she might) was refusing to let go; the pirates were trying to steal her swords from her very grasp. Digging in her heels, the feline's fangs came to bear. There was a scream behind her, she heard someone cry the word ghost, her bolstering had been for nought; she had to help them!

Irritated but unwilling to part with her swords, her curse bubbled to the surface; blistering flame were leaking from the mark on her back. Soon fire danced across her shoulders and wove its way along her arms, quickly arriving at her hands. With a roar and a final heave, those flames shot up her sword and tore away whatever had grasped them; allowing the princess to quickly return the blades to their sheathes and lock them in place. Despite having learned from this interaction, she was still puzzled. There was no hand grasping at her blades, yet they had been pulled away from her. Perhaps it was a bizarre magnetic phenomenon? If utilised correctly, that could explain her sabres being taken… but then why wasn't the metal on her clothes reacting and why had her flames-

Above the clamour Blaze heard Gardon yell out; "Your majesty! Come quickly!" But as she turned the feline found the fog had grown thicker still, her crew reduced to dark shapes moving within the cyan tinted clouds.

She dropped from the ship's head, racing across the deck and toward the largest cluster of ship hands. Though her journey was quick, with each and every step new shapes appeared through the miasma. Objects wear tearing themselves from the deck and floating toward the sky. Blaze heard koalas cry out as they were robbed of their swords, she heard the sounds of metal clattering and the deck creaking as it was relieved of strain. Following the elder's shouts, she managed to reach him; only half visible through the miasma.

"There's no gold on the ship so they're taking our weapons!" Gardon cried out, clinging to a koala as they clang to a cannon that was starting to float away.

"I've got it!" Blaze shouted, hardly even thinking as she clambered and swung her way up and atop the canon. Despite their combined mass, the cannon still hung in the air. She'd intended to set both it and herself alight when a thought dawned upon her. "Let go, both of you!"

"Blaze! What are you doing?!" Her elder subordinate yelled.

"Clearly we can't stop them stealing from us, whatever they're doing it's spread too far and they've already claimed too much!" She called back. "But, if they hope to steal our weapons, I'll make sure they get more than they bargained for!"

The koala quickly understood, she watched him open his mouth to shout again only for it to close. His eyes shut tight. "Are you sure about this?"

She wasn't, she was doing this on a whim, but she wasn't going to let that show. Steeling her brow and locking her swords beneath the weapon's barrel, further securing herself to it, she turned from him and gave one last shout. "Of course I am, let go!"

There was a final moment of hesitation, but she felt the canon shift higher into the air. She glanced back to the koalas only to find they'd vanished from view, her ship followed suit as she flew beyond its bow. She could make out other canons as she flew but, beyond that, the shape of their plundered weapons was beyond discerning. They'd travelled light, bringing canons, flintlocks and a few dozen swords. Considering the goods they'd plundered from her fleet alone, this was barely a drop in the bucket. Eventually, the smog started to thin and soon she could see that same eerie light ahead.

The enemy was anchored in the eye of the fog cloud, as she drew closer the clear zone granted her a perfect view of both her stolen goods and the ship. The tales of a ghost ship seemed a magnitude truer as it came into view; the vessel's sails were tattered and its hull was punctured in several places. The same blue light that had plundered her ship seemed to coat this boat's entirety, making it hard to identify the hull's shape; let alone any identifiable markings. What little Blaze could see was jagged and broken; it seemed that little more than the glow and great clumps of barnacles were holding the ship together. Rationally, logically, it shouldn't have been able to float, let alone sail.

But, beyond the state of the ship, something far more confusing caught her eye. Despite its state, beneath the rot and the damage, this ship was so very familiar to her. The sail bore the royal crest, despite the state the sails; Blaze could make out seven emeralds emblazoned upon them. The ship's figurehead was familiar too, a crowned feline with a single outstretched arm (now merely a stump), and even the ship's scale was so very familiar to Blaze. It was damaged, almost beyond the point of recognition, but this ship was so very similar to the one she'd just left. Her ship, her family's ship, the one of a kind ship that'd been constructed almost one hundred years ago; The Sunflower. Whatever trick these thieves were playing, it was getting stranger by the moment.

This bizarreness was compounded as Blaze watched the first of her weapons approach the desk, a swarm of ten or fifteen cutlasses. Before they could make contact with the deck, Blaze watched as the wood panelling cracked and buckled upward to create a wide crevice. The swords flew in without hesitation; over the hum of glowing energy Blaze manage to hear them clatter against something. As more and more equipment vanished into the hole, it became apparent Blaze's cannon would soon do the same. From her position atop the barrel she was free to look down, the hull was half-full with shining objects; among the swords and flintlocks were copper trinkets, necklaces and coinage.

Before the deck could engulf her, only half expecting it'd bear her brunt, Blaze leapt from the canon; landing on the deck, a few metres from the opening. The wood, held in place by that blue light, was secure to stand on; it didn't even creak beneath her. A cursory glance to her surroundings gleamed little more than what she'd already noticed. This ship, despite how damaged it looked, was a mirror of her own. Eventually the last of her ship's weapons vanished into the hull and, like the doors to a cellar, the frayed wooden boards returned to their prior position; the deck had mended itself. Now alone on this supposed ghost ship, Blaze couldn't deny there was an eeriness in the air. The sooner she got to the bottom of this, the sooner she found whoever had made that demand, the better.

As she started to walk, the princess realised she wasn't actually stepping on the deck. The touch of her heel against the floor made a bizarre sparking noise and, despite the boards being uneven and broken, it was as though she was stepping on solid, flat, concrete. The light was creating some kind of barrier between her and the ship, preventing her from touching the decrepit wood beneath. Alike her own when it entered the fog, this ship refused to rock with the tide too; hanging in place, unaffected by the waves. Further adding to the eeriness, the deck was lifeless. Not a single crewmember was present and, search as she might, Blaze could find no signs of daily life. There was no mess; no bags left unattended and no sign of sailors' tools (no spyglasses, no ropes and, most astonishingly, no weapons). Beneath the cyan barrier, the deck looked filthy; no fewer than ten generations of barnacles and limpets lined the hull.

Her denial had started to waver; these supernatural sights were growing too great in number. Loot had flown through the air, this ship was floating despite being decrepit and it seemed to sail without a crew. There was no natural explanation for this; it was either the work of some miraculous gadgetry or the rumours were-

After biting her tongue Blaze screamed out. "What need does a ghost have of weapons and gold? You are no spirit; you are a pirate merely masquerading as the dead to avoid punishment! Show yourself!"

It was not fear but outrage driving her shouts; this farcical ship went against all she had learned. Her family were cursed, powerful yes but feared for their power. Supernatural fire was no plaything, born without a spark or match-strike it was a deadly tool easily mishandled. Regardless of how this power was achieved, its wielder was abusing what she'd been forced to hide. The strong were meant to act sparingly, do what had to be done and no more. If there was a supernatural presence piloting this ship, they were using such power to satiate their greed. It was a misuse of power, a misuse so flagrant it brought Blaze's blood to boil.

"If you will not show yourself willingly, I will force you out!" She drew her swords, igniting the right blade's tip. "Failure to heed my words will result in the immolation of your ship, its plunder included!"

Regardless of who manned this ship, they failed to heed her final warning. With the flick of her wrist, the fire leapt from her blade to the floor, sizzling away at the cyan aura before setting the wood itself alight. Despite her training, she felt her fingers clench around her swords' hilts as she waited for a reaction.

She didn't have to wait for long; her ears flickered as the wood began to buckle behind her. Without hesitation she threw herself forward, leaping toward the mast and turning to face what she anticipated to be a gnashing maw of wood. Instead, the hole remained small; just big enough for her to fall through. Unsettling silence continued to rule, a glance to the deck found her flames were spreading very slowly. The coating on the wood was impeding their propagation.

Her eyes raced back to the hole only to find it sealed, hovering roughly a foot from the deck was a form shrouded in brown burlap. Chains hung from their wrists and the bottom of their tattered cloak, their face was obscured by the shadow of their hood and cyan light flared from a pair of billowing sleeves. This figure had all the trappings of a ghost; there was no denying that.

The whole ship seemed to shake as they spoke, the surrounding light flared wildly. "You chose plunder and thus your ship was plundered. Leave this ship with a lesson learned, provide me with a gift and your vessel will go untouched. Share this lesson, lest others share your fate."

The feline pointed her swords at this so-called ghost. "You have stolen from my people just as you have stolen from me, those goods are not yours to keep! You have committed piracy and will be sentenced as a pirate, continued resistance will worsen your charge."

The figure seemed to take pause at her resistance. Though their head was obscured and their clothes were billowy, their body language spoke volumes to Blaze. They were floating no higher than a foot from the ground. This being was looking down on her, just as it had talked down to her, and acting as though she was at fault. Acting as though her intrusion on this ship, a ship modelled after her own, was more boorish than his continuous theft.

"If you will not leave willingly, you will be forced to leave," As if to emphasise their point, the figure closed their right fist. Out of the corner of her eye, Blaze watched as ghostly aura smothered her burgeoning flame. "This is your final warning."

"And I have warned you, several times; surrender or I will show you no mercy!" The princess growled back, grip further tightening on her blade's hilts. "You will not hear me submit!"

Again, the figure fell silent. Blaze swore that, beneath his heavy robes, she saw a set of yellow eyes blink and dart around. They weren't attacking her, not yet at least, but they certainly weren't surrendering. The so-called ghost hung there, hands flaring with a light brighter than that on the ship. The longer they hung, stationary in the air, the angrier Blaze found herself growing. It was all so stereotypical; the light, the robes, the chains and even the obscured face. Though she couldn't explain her surroundings, not rationally at least, she half believed the form to be some kind of marionette; a puppet being manipulated by crafty pirates. She didn't dare break her gaze from them but she knew that the crow's nest was overhead, the angle was strange but it didn't seem impossible.

Regardless of what they were, Blaze was at her wit's end. If they would not surrender by choice then there was no alternative. With a hiss behind her breath, Blaze gave up negotiating. "So be it, I'll take you in by force."

The princess began her approach, swords unlit but raised to strike. The puppet shifted slightly in the air, backing away from her. Knowing it'd be a mistake to let him flee, let alone strike first, the feline pounced with both blades drawn over her shoulders. Her attack was successful, her blunted swords had smashed against his shoulder, but it was as though she'd struck stone rather than flesh. Cyan sparks flew from the point of impact as their form was sent careening towards the deck, Blaze thought she'd secured a clean hit but the ground reacted; swallowing them whole and resealing before she could even land.

Alone on the deck again, Blaze tried to corral her frustration. Taking her right blade, Blaze swung it where the hole had formed. Her weapon caught no strings and a glance to the crow's nest revealed no opponents, the robed figured wasn't a puppet.

It wasn't long before the silence was broken; the sound of splintering wood filled her ears. She spun on her heel only to find the figure hadn't remerged. Five planks had sprung from the deck and were rocketing toward her. She managed to knock the first two away but the third shifted mid-flight, it came at her long ways and struck her in the gut but the initial impact wasn't the problem. The plank kept moving, its considerable speed was pushing her back and keeping her feet from the ground; it was attempting to throw her from the ship!

A snarl slipped her throat; flames exploded from her back and quickly chased along her arms. Orange sparks spat and fought with cyan, crackling and exploding before one gave way; her flames ignited the wood. Her heels found the ground, the beam crumbled into ash as the fire consumed both it and the cyan light that held it together.

Before she could understand what she'd done, the remaining two boards were racing toward her; crossed over each other in to create an X. Without so much as a thought, Blaze thrust her right sword forward; her curse rushed across her body and from the weapon's end, flying toward the cross as a bolt of red flame.

The contact was bright and explosive. As she squinted to see, Blaze had prepared her offhand to strike away whatever remained but when the light cleared, only dust and splinters reached her. The wood had been liberated from the cyan hue and either crumbled or burned, too dilapidated to maintain its form.

Again, before she could consider what she'd done, Blaze heard the whir of electric wind and the buckling of wood. Regaining her bearings, she found herself on the starboard bow; only a few metres from the deck's edge. Unable to locate the crackling's source (nor the figure), Blaze started to stalk across the deck; heading towards the mast. She attempted to move quietly, assuming if that person was relying on sound rather than sight, and prepared to ignite at the first sign of movement.

She managed twelve paces before the wood creaked beneath her. Blaze ignited, casting her amber gaze across the deck, but she still couldn't sight her opponent. She quickly shifted the fire to her weapons; cloaking them in orange heat, before taking another, hesitant, step forward. The ship was still wrapped in cyan light, nothing had changed, but she knew her opponent was out there. It was time for a shift, it was time to swap from defence to offence.

Blaze swung her weapons forward and the fire flew from them again, two burning bolts raced from the metal and detonated upon contact with the ship's sail. The thin material was a far better conductor of flame; the fabric began to rapidly ignite. Almost immediately she heard the deck stir but again, glancing to her surroundings, she couldn't locate the figure. By the time her gaze returned to the sail the fire had been extinguished but a large black hole had formed near its centre; her crest had been removed.

Flames were just beginning to engulf her blades when she heard the loudest shifting of wood yet, a cacophonous splintering that was easy to locate. She looked at the peak of the mast and saw the hooded figure, but she didn't have time to focus on them.

The crow's nest had been torn off and broken into pieces, a hail of glowing wood was tumbling towards the deck. There was no time to move, the mass was too great and spread too widely! She engulfed her blades and dug in her heels, bracing for impact rather than even attempting to flee. As rubble came down she slashed with all her might, batting away and atomising a good portion. But the wood came in waves, by the time she'd deflected one the second was upon her. Rubble struck her from all angles, glancing off her shoulders and back. It hurt less than she'd anticipated, the rot had lightened the wood, but the damage wasn't insignificant; the figure's psychic grasp was reinforcing the wood.

As she attempted to rise from her buckled position, Blaze felt her swords slip free from her grasp and clatter across the ground. The electric humming had grown louder again, chains were dangling at the edge of her vision. Despite losing her weapons, Blaze attempted to pounce only for a bizarre feeling to engulf her midsection. Then it spread to her legs, then it spread to her upper body and, before she could react, the guardian was entirely engulfed. Cyan light had fully surrounded her; she couldn't move and she couldn't see but she could breathe.

Surrounded by the light, having watched the figure conjure it, she could no longer act as though it was a natural phenomenon. It didn't feel like she was being crushed, the hold itself was painless, but Blaze knew how dire her position was. This was a power like hers; this was a curse. At best; she was going to be flung back to her ship, at worst; she'd been taken hostage. But, just as she believed hope was fading, a thought dawned upon her.

"I gave you warnings, I asked you to leave. Don't make me force you, I don't want to hurt you." The light obscured their form, but Blaze could make out their outline. The figure was so close. "Remain still and I will return you to your ship, unharmed. Resist and I'll be forced to fight, I don't want to fight you!"

But Blaze wasn't listening to the figure's further ultimatums; she'd come up with a plan. She was preparing to strike. The feline was pooling heat near the small of her back. The cyan light could muffle her flames but, equally, her flames could burn away the light. There was air in here; if she could breathe then she could burn. Whatever this ghostly power was, Blaze knew she could fight it. It meant relying on the power she hated, but it was the only way.

The flames exploded from her back and ignited the light surrounding her, it spat and exploded as her own orange flames came to engulf her entire body. Soon she was totally free from their psychic grasp, she landed on her feet. Looking up at the figure, she caught sight of their face in the light of her flames. He had yellow eyes and, by the state of his muzzle, he was incredibly gaunt; beyond that, she couldn't make out much.

His ghastly light would mute her burning and, as long as she kept control, she wouldn't end up scaring him. This was an opponent she could fight fairly, an opponent she could fight without holding back. Leaping from the deck, Blaze ignited her fists. She didn't speak, she hardly even thought, for this was the time to strike. She lunged up at him, her flames battered against his cyan hue, but this time Blaze struck true; she felt her knuckle contact his chest. The floating man doubled over at that contact, their body was pulled upward and beyond her reach, but that fine. Blaze had hit him once; she knew she could hit him again.

The figure thrust his right hand towards her and, for a moment, Blaze felt the light's pressure on her shoulders. She reignited without hesitation, rending the light from her body and showing him that his method wouldn't work. He had three choices; tear apart this ship fighting her, fight her on his own or give up fighting.

Light flared around her, the debris from the crow's nest began to hover. He'd chosen option one.

Blaze immolated herself, she allowed fire to fully engulf her body and obscure her vision. Her curse's cracking filled her ears, overwhelming the psychic hum. She felt the wood touch her body but the impact was reduced further still, the rotten wood was being ignited and disintegrated before it could even touch her. When the impacts finally ceased and she subdued her flames enough to see, Blaze was alone on the deck. She scanned the sky, he'd vanished again but she knew how to draw him out.

Channelling the fire that garbed her, Blaze formed a fireball more than a foot in diameter. She launched the orb towards the mast but, as it made contact, the fireball detonated and spread; smaller fires split off to surround the smoking central pillar. She watched the inferno swell and spread, slowly creeping across the deck and leaving gashes in its wake. The ship had already been in poor condition, incapable of sailing was it not for the energy engulfing it, but their battle had more thoroughly destroyed it. Psychic energy had glazed over the holes and perhaps made them safe to walk over, but the ship was twice the wreck it'd once been.

The deck creaked, her flames were snuffed and Blaze sighted the so-called ghost in the corner of her vision. She spun and threw an open fist, a smaller fireball shot free of her palm and exploded against his glowing body. "If you don't want to fight, then surrender!"

The figure was sent tumbling backwards, only managing to stabilise himself by dragging his feet along the ground. Blaze bolted after him; not only had he landed, the light had faded from his form! Only his hands were glowing! Blaze pounced at her opportunity, tackling him to the deck and pushing her hands against his collarbone. She'd won! The pirate was within her grasp!

His hood fell as she pinned him, revealing a tangled mess of overgrown quills. Amber eyes met bright yellow before they scanned the rest of his face. Bones were visible through his skin and, were it not for his panting, she would half-believe that he was a corpse. Black bags hung beneath his eyes, as though he'd gone weeks without sleep, and she saw neither resistance nor fear in his eyes. Instead, she couldn't help thinking that he looked regretful.

The moment Blaze caught her breath; she began the interrogation. "Speak your name."

Those eyes shut tight; she felt him tense once more before again flopping loosely in her grasp, seeming to concede to her. She knew better than to trust him though. "M-My name is Silver," That name matched no pirate she knew; his appearance was entirely alien to her too.

"Do you know my name?" She rhetorically asked. "Do you understand the weight of your crimes?"

"I-I understand what I've done but... I know you are a royal, I-I just don't know which one," He bafflingly admitted. "What year is it?"

Her brow hardened further, her pulse was pounding and adrenaline was racing through her. "Do you take me for a fool?"

"I don't, I'm telling you the truth!" Blaze leant on him a little harder, even if he looked near death he clearly had the strength to shout. In response, he quietened down but his stutter returned. "I know th-that seems stupid but I really don't know! I know this is the sea of Sol, I know we're the 'Merchant's Tunnel' and your ship is called The Sunflower, its been part of your family for generations, but I really don't know what year it is and I'm not sure who you are."

Maintaining her tight grip, Blaze posed an alternate question, "If you profess not to know my name yet know my lineage then answer me this; who do you think I am?"

"Maybe Percival the Eleventh…?" He answered, before quickly hazarding another guess. "Although, judging by your canons, you might be the Twelfth…?"

Confusion, aided by curiosity, forcibly undercut her ferocity. He looked no older than her, despite his tired and sickly state, and yet he had mistaken her for her elder relatives. She felt her adrenaline begin to abate. "Percival was my grandmother's name and my mother's name but it is not mine."

"W-Wait, y-you're Blaze?" He hadn't called her your majesty, everyone referred to her by royal titles yet he had failed to both upon first addressing her and now; having identified her. Against her better judgement, her grip on his burlap slacked. "If you're Blaze then it's almost too late! I-I thought I was at least half a century earlier!"

Feeling him begin to panic, slipping loose of her grasp, Blaze quickly realised her folly. She pressed further down on him, fingers digging into his shoulders as the entirety of her thin frame pushed to pin him. "I said not to move!"

Pain broke across his brow, his eyes shut again. "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I-I-I…" He froze up, a brief silence followed his stutter. When he reopened his eyes the beginnings of tears had formed. "There's a lot I can tell you, but I don't think you'll believe me."

Blaze felt something in her chest (some hint of compassion perhaps) but, being her royal self, she knew to quash it. She distracted herself by further taking in his person, difficult as that was at such close proximity. The longer she stared the thinner and more ragged he appeared; she'd never seen anyone quite like him. Few citizens lived poorly in her kingdom, fewer still that she saw first hand, but he bordered on being malnourished. Hedgehogs were rare in the kingdom too, but the layout of his quills was simply bizarre and perhaps a result his overgrowth. His physical body was intriguing but not as intriguing as his curse. Though the light had weakened around the ship it still brightly flickered from his palms. Upon closer inspection, seeing how the light refracted through his mucky gloves, she determined those circular marks dyed his flesh rather than his gloves or fur. Somehow, a curse had affixed itself to him.

She waited a few moments longer before resuming, allowing them both some respite. "Where did you steal this power from?" She noticed her voice was sapped of its commanding venom. "Abilities like ours aren't meant for mortals, what foolish occult pact did you make?"

"M-My blessing? I've always had it," Silver claimed. "I've been psychic for as long as I can remember, I-I guess I just got lucky, like you did?"

"Like I di-

She hadn't dared to think of her curse as a blessing, let alone say it. No one ever had, not even Gardon. While in some ways his words made sense, her power kept her kingdom protected, but fear of it separated her from the masses. Still, though her brow furrowed further, that feeling in her chest grew, glowing kindling of compassion. At the very least, he wasn't all bad. This hedgehog hadn't tried to kill her despite resisting, he hadn't fought until she'd attacked him and he'd submitted after she'd defeated him. He seemed to be under some kind of delusion rather than being intentionally malicious. All of a sudden, her grip on him felt a lot looser. Try as she might to smother it, that kindling of compassion was growing brighter. As far as she knew, he hadn't claimed a single life; he hadn't even harmed a single seaman.

A sigh slid passed her lips. "I'm going to let go, you can sit up but do not move from that spot." Quickly deciding she was being too limp-wristed with him she quickly snapped. "I-If you do, my generous demeanour will quickly sour. You'll be back on the deck before you can blink."

His expression softened, as she slid off of the hedgehog he slowly rose to sit beside her; gangly legs poking free of his wrappings and revealing a second set of cuffs. Thin as he was, the hedgehog was almost a head taller than her. "Um… thank you, Blaze."

Neither the terms your majesty nor your highness passed his lips, just Blaze. Again, compassion bubbled in her gut; she felt a strange heat on her face. Being unable to look away, certain he'd capitalise on her weakness, propagated that warmth. She continued the interrogation in hopes of quashing this feeling. "Explain yourself! Why are you out here, why are you stealing from my vessels?"

"W-Well, I don't expect you to believe me but I didn't simply sail out here; at least, I didn't sail out here as you did," He started to explain. "I don't quite understand it myself, but I used this ship to cross a sea of time. I came here from the future."

Before she could even respond, he flinched slightly and his face crumpled. The hedgehog clearly wasn't expecting to be believed and, in truth, he had reason to think that. His claim was ludicrous, but then today had been a ludicrous day. She'd set out expecting to disprove a ghost tale only to find herself face to face with a cursed boy on a decrepit version of her own flagship. At this point, he could say he was an alien and she might have believed him.

A sigh, not far from a grumble, slipped past her lips. "Continue."

"Y-Your kingdom is going to fall. It's going to overtaken by a shadowy puppet-master and his pet monster. They'll shackle your people and work them, to death destroy all who disobey their will." The hedgehog continued to explain. "That's why I'm here, that's why I'm stealing from the past. I'm gathering all I can to rise up against them, give us a fighting chance. I figured that if I stole things from now, he wouldn't have them to use against us then," He quickly listed the types of items he'd stolen. "Weapons, trinkets and valuables; anything that can be used to fight, anything that can be melted down to make weapons and anything we can use for barter."

"That is difficult to believe." Blaze informed him, the strangeness of his tale offsetting her embarrassment. "Though, perhaps, not impossible; if you can provide further explanation. You say you crossed a sea of time to get here, how exactly did you do that?"

"I-I can show you," He offered, before quickly catching himself. "If you'll let me?"

She extended a hand to him, both offering to help him up but setting a rule. "You may stand as long as I hold you. If I release you, then you are to sit. If you flee then you will be made to sit."

Blaze watched a small smile line his lips, she felt his weak grasp and heard the waver return to his voice. "I-I'm not sure I could even stand without you holding me. It's taking all I have left to keep us from sinking…"

This proved true, as she tugged him to his feet he wobbled before stumbling into her. He unleashed an avalanche of apologies like they'd been building up over years but she was too focused on suppressing her blush to care. Her position meant physical contact was a rarity; she'd touched this time travelling pirate more than anyone in recent memory. Not only that but she'd offered her hand to him, pinned him to the deck and now slung his arm around her shoulder. She was initiating this far more than he was.

With his free hand, he pointed her toward the back of the ship, offering what little movement his limp legs would allow. She'd noticed it before, but he really was frail. Admittedly, Blaze hadn't had to hoist someone along like this before but she reckoned that Gardon, who was two-thirds of Silver's height, likely weighed more than him. As she brought her free arm around his waist her fingers struggled to find his form beneath burlap and matted fur. When she did find his side, providing additional support to aid his walking, she felt ribs through his skin. It was the same thinness, the same starvation evident in his pale muzzle. The majority of his weight seemed to be made up of the cuffs binding his extremities, rather than his body. The remains of a broken chain, hanging from both of his wrists, raised both questions and concerns. No wonder his feet were dragging, no wonder he'd flown everywhere, the set on his ankles were even thicker. The hedgehog hadn't flown to condescend her; he flew because he was in pain.

Just as she recalled his mention of her people in chains, the hedgehog began to speak again. He must have followed her gaze. "We're all bound, but those with strength are given stronger bonds. I managed to break the chains myself but I could never get the wrist parts off," As if to emphasise, he gave his wrist a little shake. "I acted as though my power was weak, I hoped if I did they'd leave me alone, but they just pushed me until I showed them more."

"What did they make you do?" Blaze dared to enquire.

"Build, dig…" He began to explain. "They tried to get me to do a lot of things, but I only really did those two. When all seemed lost you brought down the castle, so there was plenty for me to excavate. I-I tried to do it slowly…"

There was pain in the last of his words; Blaze cursed herself for softening further. "While I am glad I made some form of final stand and loosed one last act of defiance." She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. She was talking as though she believed him. Well, she did believe him; whether she liked it or not. "You shouldn't have drawn their ire trying to maintain my final effort."

Silver shook his head. "There were a lot of things they wanted in the palace, I never quite understood what or why though. They talked a lot about jewels and emeralds, saying they'd help secure world dominance. I never found any but they were always talking about emeralds, always promising they'd set me free if I found one. I never did but, if I ever did, I'd probably have buried it even deeper."

The mention of emeralds caught more than its share of Blaze's attention and she was about to enquire more when she ears caught the wheeze on his breath, she halted at the cyan light surrounding the ship flickered but quickly returned. The fight had taken most of his stamina but there was a reason that reserve was so low. Not only was he malnourished; he was clearly sick.

"You stole so why not steal food too? Weapons and gold are far more valuable, I assume you'd have no qualms with doing that?" Blaze questioned.

"I-I have from time to time, bits of hardtack and cheese, but," Silver grimaced. "I don't like doing this, I only wanted to steal what I had to. Only what could help those in the future. I wasn't stealing to make myself comfortable, if I stole food it'd go rotten. There's nowhere to keep it on this boat."

There was a difference between being comfortable and healthy but, clearly, this Silver hadn't considered that. Blaze felt another wave of compassion surge through her, she could relate to him in a way she hadn't really related to anyone. He'd taken on this duty without hesitation and fully committed himself to it, working himself to death was stupid, of course, but it was certainly endearing.

Before she could ask more questions, they'd arrived at the ship's cabin.

With the wave of his hand, the door opened. The inside was stripped bare, the inner walls untouched by cyan light, save for a small object near the centre of the room. It looked to be a stone, roughly hexagonal in shape and an inch or two larger than her palm. With a point, a cyan bubble surrounded the rock and brought it up to hover before them.

"I know it doesn't look like much now but when I found it there was a strange light, almost like fire." He reminisced, wheeze hanging on every word. "I figured that meant it was important so I hid it from them, took it with me wherever I went in case they found it. When they had me lift up your ship the stone kind of reacted, the light surrounded both me and boat. We vanished into this weird blue and yellow swirl for a while? I don't know how to really describe it… but we reappeared on an island in the middle of nowhere. Ships passed on their routes and I recognised their symbols from other wrecks I'd pulled up. It took me a while but I eventually pieced it all together."

Blaze plucked the stone from his aura and immediately felt a bizarre sense of familiarity. Its shape was similar to a set of emeralds she knew and Silver's tale lined up with stories she'd heard; the colouration and texture were wrong though. Drawing the claw of her right thumb, she scratched along its black surface. Black, rock-like, dust was freed by her scraping. She had brought down the castle, or so Silver had said, but perhaps that wasn't all she'd done.

"Close your eyes Silver, I'm going to try something."

Once he complied, she set the hand wielding the emerald alight; engulfing the stone in bright orange flames. The response was immediate; what looked to be tar or rock of some nature, was quickly melted away to reveal a vibrant purple beneath. Her assumption had been confirmed confirmed; as the filth was purged a reliquary was revealed. The sight filled her with equal measures of awe and dread.

"Silver, you did find one of the emeralds," She revealed, indicating that he should reopen his eyes. "But this goes against so much of what I know. The emeralds are inert, fables surround them but they've been sealed away for hundreds of years. There has been no reason to call upon them, no cause great enough to draw them out."

"But that means no one has checked on them, right? Maybe something changed and they've started working again?" He questioned.

"The Sol Emeralds only have power during times of crisis. They are a collection of seven reliquaries, capable of performing extraordinary feats of magic. They last showed their power during Percival the First's rule. When her parents were assassinated and she was left to rule alone, a child of only seven years, they aided in her protection; losing their power as she herself grew more powerful," Blaze exposited before turning back to him. "Do you understand what this is? What this means?"

"Not really, you said a lot of really big words, I-I... I really don't know what a reliquary is," He seemed to perk up a little though, a small smile forming as he pointed toward the stone. "That's a Sol emerald though and it's important, right? I got that much. They work in times of crisis and the kingdom being in ruin must have counted as one of those times?"

"You've understood the essentials, this more than proves your story to be true," She briskly walked him from the cabin and back onto the deck, the gravity of the situation still impacting her. "We must depart for my ship and make haste toward the palace."

"Y-You might be able to depart, I can't," Silver's denial forced her to take pause. "I mean, what about the plunder? If I leave this ship, everything will sink to the bottom of the ocean. Some of it might survive but the gunpowder won't and things will start rusting," He described. "And what about everyone in the future, without that stone, I can't get back to them!"

"You told me that my kingdom will fall; that my people will suffer and the skeleton of my castle will be defiled by a tyrant, lusting for weapons of war. I will not let that happen. It is my duty, both as princess and guardian, to protect my people." Blaze thoroughly explained, not daring to waste a word. "I will put your information to good use and prevent this disaster, be it through the defence of my kingdom or caging this puppeteer and slaying his monster. But, with you by my side, I think we can undo this tragedy rather than heal it in post." She continued, throwing him a glance. "You have stolen much from me over these past months but the righteousness of your cause has swayed me."

"Swayed you?" Silver's head tilted, confusion spread across his brow. "What do you mean?"

"You will not be taken to the gallows, instead…" Blaze hesitated. She was dealing with a crisis but, simultaneously, dealing with a person the likes of which she never had before. One who called her by her name and thought her curse was a blessing. Her mind and heart were at war. "Instead you will stay with me, no matter how long this campaign lasts; I want you by my side," Clearly oblivious, he blinked at her. Blaze couldn't maintain her stare; she finally tore her gaze from his gangly frame. "Y-You're so naïve, must I be blunt with you?"

"I think I would appreciate it?" He gulped, very much unfazed by their situation.

"This is most unorthodox, I-I wish to take you…" She scrambled for the right words. "A-As a companion," That term was close, but not quite what she meant. "A partner of sorts, t-to aid me in preventing this travesty. You have acted to protect my people, so I will protect you from the stockade."

"You mean like friends?" He bluntly inquired, "I've not really had many friends, but they're supposed to help each other; aren't they? So if you want to help me and I want to help you…"

Friendship had no place in a princes' life, she'd specifically worded her proposal to avoid that term, but having met the hedgehog's bright yellow eyes; Blaze couldn't refute his offer. "If that is how you'd prefer to word it, yes."

"I think I'd like that a lot," A smile managed to break across his muzzle. "I haven't really had any friends, just people I've met and been separated from. To think my first would be someone so incredible, it's amazing!"

Feeling that heat on her face again, Blaze tried to press on and ignore his embarrassing words. "Are you strong enough for one return trip, to lift me to my ship then pull me back? I need to announce our plan to my crew."

"I-I don't think so, not while keeping The Sunflower afloat," Silver admitted, the weakened glow of his hands acting as proof. "I could sail closer to your ship though? Get you within leaping distance, or shouting distance at the very least?"

The feline allowed herself a small smile. "That will do nicely, thank you."

Blaze felt him shift slightly, the wind began to catch her fur and she heard the ship groan as it began to glide across the water. Soon the fog obscured her vision and the sound of Gardon panicking found her ears, loudening with each passing second. The old man was clearly panicking, he'd be glad to see her in one piece but before that, Blaze gave her new friend another glance. Though Silver claimed he could do this much, even through the fog, Blaze could see that his eyes were clenched shut and his hands were balled. She'd have to stay here with him, prepared to grab him and leap if his power ran out.

Regardless, before he fell, she wanted to say some final words to him. "Silver?"

"Y-Y-Yes?" He was clearly struggling to talk, overwhelmed by psychic strain.

"I'll do all I can to make this right," She promised, hoisting him a little higher and thus bearing more of his weight. "Your efforts won't be for nought, I will defend my kingdom."

"I-I'm far from done Blaze," Tired as he was, steely determination returned to his voice. His tone wasn't dissimilar to when he'd made his demands. "We'll make this right, together," The feline tightened her grip on him.

She'd found an ally, one she already trusted unlike any she'd made prior, but the guardian doubted her care alone would shield him. His power would prove useful, his knowledge and kindness would too, but the curse affixed to his hands would draw prying eyes and dangerous parties. Rumours would swirl like a maelstrom, engulfing both her and the hedgehog. Blaze knew she would have to hide him from her own people; if they'd fear her for embracing her powers then they'd surely fear his blessing.

This wasn't going to be easy, sneaking him into the castle would be difficult (let alone keeping him safe and hidden there), but Blaze was determined to help her new companion. As the ghost-ship drew closer to its past counterpart, the many mysteries this venture had uncovered started to nag at the princess. Who was this puppet master and where had they come from, how had they overwhelmed the entirety of her armada and when would they strike? Were her people in danger now or did they have a few more years to prepare? Only one thing was certain, the moment her feet touched the shore she would start preparing. Her words couldn't be mere consolation, Silver's efforts wouldn't be for nought; they were going to make this right.

#silvaze #Blaze the Cat #Silver the Hedgehog #sonic au

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