#She also might have made him harsher at the same time by vanishing on him so kdjgkjdsgksd Thanks Kaycee

[kakusu-shipping]

Can you put more detail into the Reconnected Scrybe Polycule? The idea that all four of the Scrybes fall in love with the same person and bring them all back together. I’m fawning over this idea and I want to hear more of your ideas! You don’t have to if you don’t want to of course. It’s totally up to you. Have a good rest of your day/night.

Hello??? Hello???? Yes I for sure can, Bestie!!!!

Er. Maybe. It's been a while and special interests have changed but I am ALWAYS ready to ramble about a polycule and the Scrybes are no exception. More specific questions would help but for now I'll try and get down all I have atm.

Okay so for this polycule timeline I have Save State, Calling Card, Winter Weather, and Future's Forecast. I never got around to writing Grimora's interaction with this reader specifically, and maybe one day I will, as Grimora really deserves more X Readers, but anyway.

Leshy falls in love with you first, he loves the fastest, and he was the first to meet you. He loved you the moment you sat at his table. It's a quiet love, showed in games and puzzles and cards. Affection through time spent near you, affection returned through playing his love crafted game. He'd put his everything into making sure you are entertained and having fun. He does not eat, he does not sleep, he hardly leaves his home. What if you were to come again and he was not there? He couldn't imagine such a thing. But if you asked him to go on a walk, he would not mind leaving the game for a period. If you held his hand and led him through other lands, or asked about his forests, or ran faster than he thought you could, he'd run after you. He'd answer your questions. He'd lay in the sun and laugh with you and remember how nice it feels to love outside a game.

Magnificus is second. He finds your presence annoying, a nuisance, a pain and a bother. When you don't show he's anxious and snappy, he's harsh and cold and irritable. When you come to bother him his shoulders relax, and while he huffs and grumbles about wasting your time, he feels more at ease with you nearby. These are, of course, things he'd never admit to. He'll draw you, sketch you in the margins of his sketch book, paint you delicately on his canvas. He'll deny it all. His tender heart for you he'll hide behind grumbles and sighs of annoyance. Glares and huffs. But if you were to rest against him while he worked, he wouldn't mind.

It starts to get more Poly when Grimora gets involved, as she was the original glue of the polycule, and she's the on to move things forward. She talks to the others more often, has tea and plays games with them separate, and she can tell when they've fall in love with the player, though Magnificus denies so. Her curiosity gets the better of her and she's invited you over for tea to see what the big deal is and. Oh. Oh you. She finds herself laughing in your company, loosing track of time between games, wanting to keep you over and dress you up and pamper you so delicately. And unlike the two before her, Grimora will act on her feelings. She'll woo you and make her flirting obvious, and if you were to protest, state affections for Leshy or Magnificus, she'll profess her own affections for them as well. She'll show you the old photos and the gifts and rings or her past, and she'll love you along side whoever you may choose.

P03 is always the one I have a rough time writing for, because I think he needs a LOT of time and care. He needs patients and calm and quiet, and maybe he's a little hateful and harsh, and maybe he's even worse around the other scrybe, bu it's mostly fear. A fear he hates to admit too, but genuine fear only someone hurt so horribly by someone they loved feels. He'll let you get close, because at least your fun to play with, sometimes. And you follow the rules of the game, and maybe fix some things around the factory here and there. He'll let himself enjoy your company, and he'll try not to bad mouth your partner's too much, because you don't deserve that. He's not heartless, and he's not cold, or closed off, not after seeing you so much. So when he's finally willing to admit to himself how he feels about you, he'll tell you. And he'll trust you when you say the other's have changed. He'll take your hand and go to see them and trust you that it'll all be okay.

It really is getting P03 back into the polycule that's the hardest part. Grimora and Leshy still hold an almost silbing-like affection for one another, and Mags and Grimora never REALLY broke it off in the first place. It's you, then, who leads P03 back, gets him to trust in them by trusting in you. And while it'll never be the same as it once was, that may be a good thing. As now you're here; Their beloved player.

[to-a-merrier-world]

blessed-by-the-sun-spirit!Zuko AU

Part 2! | Part 1 | Part 3

the last time iroh saw his sister-in-law was at his brother’s wedding. he had thought her a kind woman and had made sure to let her know she was welcome, but deep down, he thinks he did so to assuage his own guilt rather than to bring her any real comfort. he knew that the marriage wasn’t one of love. he knew how... unnecessarily cruel and manipulative his younger brother could be, something he also felt guilt for. 

as a young man, iroh had thrown himself into his military career to simultaneously please his father and to get away from him as much as possible. because of this and their age difference (iroh was 18 years older than ozai), he wasn’t around ozai much growing up, and time had only made their father harsher. and when lu ten was born, he was even more motivated to keep away. while he attended to his duties like a loyal son and ensured lu ten was educated and behaved as was expected in front of the fire lord and other nobles, they both kept to their section of the palace as much as possible. (fortunately for lu ten, he was born a non-bender and therefore was of less interest to azulon.) and when lu ten had graduated from the academy (at 16), iroh took him with him as he rejoined the war efforts.

when iroh learned the news that ursa had vanished, he instantly knew she’d run away, and he prayed to the spirits that she was able to avoid capture. because if she didn’t, he did not wish to think of what would become of her. when, a month later, he received a hawk from his father, detailing ursa’s betrayal and how she evaded capture, iroh was deeply relieved. while the fire nation and the rest of the world was told ursa had been “attacked” and presumably killed along with her unborn son by earth kingdom rebels (an easy lie to further the war), azulon had made sure iroh knew the truth and that should he ever cross paths with his ex-sister-in-law, he should capture her and bring her back to the fire nation to face justice. but iroh never planned to find her or her child.

[two years after ursa’s disappearance, ozai had a daughter with a mistress and named her azula. iroh and lu ten returned to the fire nation to welcome azula to the world before leaving again to continue the war efforts. iroh tried to avoid his previous mistakes by visiting his niece more often, but the war still kept him away more often than not.]

when, ten years after ursa’s disappearance, two of his scouts came to him with news of a young firebender in the middle of the earth kingdom, iroh had no doubt in his heart who it was, even if he didn’t have proof yet. but he instantly came to a decision. if it was ursa’s son, he had to do what it took to keep him and ursa out of the fire nation’s hands.

he needed to act fast. his scouts, while loyal, were likely to share such a story with others and news would spread among the troops. if the wrong ears caught wind, it could spell the end for ursa and her son. he dismissed the scouts, advising them to keep quiet but not ordering it so as not to raise suspicion. he then sent another soldier to fetch his son, lu ten.

after explaining the situation and revealing his suspicions to him, iroh asks his son for his opinion on how to move forward. lu ten suggests a plan to distract from their main goal of finding ursa and her son. based on where the scouts spotted the boy, he was most likely living in a nearby coastal town. they could move their troops there under the guise of setting up a port for fire nation supplies for the upcoming siege on ba sing se. once there, they could spread the rumor that the firebending child was just the son of a traveling colony merchant, while at the same time searching for ursa and her son and helping them escape.

iroh agrees with the plan and moves forward with it, taking his troops to the nearby coastal town and sending a hawk to request fire nation supply ships port there. he didn’t let himself consider how, if anyone knew of his and lu ten’s secret plans, they would be marked as traitors. they both knew the risks they were taking, and they were both determined to do right by ursa and her son.

iroh was a man who held his guilt close to his heart. he kept his head forward, he did as was expected, and while he always tried to be kind, to be merciful, to be good, at the end of the day he was the crown prince to the fire nation and a general in their army, and no amount of denial or justification could cover up all the blood that stained his hands. he was ashamed that he had passed this down to lu ten, as well. while the blood on iroh’s hands was much greater than lu ten’s, the weight of guilt weighed heavier on his young heart. 

perhaps in helping ursa and her son, they might assuage some of that guilt.

(stopping here b/c the next part will be long) 

(to be continued...)

[drops-of-moonlights]

WINX REDUX AU SUMMARIZED: INTERLUDE 6 (Season 6.5)

Or, in which I give the basics of what I’ve changed about the story for the AU. It was originally way more descriptive but if I kept it in that style I would have finished in 2039 and I ain’t got time for that. Let’s cover the small crisis that happens between S6 and S7! It took as long as it did because Life interfered.

WINX AU INTERLUDE 6 - Distant Legends, Sudden Troubles

A week later, after receiving the call from the Order of Mana, the Winx and Roxy (alongside Daphne and Faragonda) arrive at the Council of Mana’s headquarters in Roccaluce.

Once inside, they’re brought to a larger room seemingly made of crystal, and see that all 9 keys are on top of a small pillar of the same crystal. A lot of magi are around.

They spot Eldora along them all, looking annoyed, and when they talk she tells them that the Order wants to make a new transformation out of Pleiadix.

She cynically elaborates that they didn’t like that there was a form they weren’t in charge of, but a Paladin corrects her that it’s to ensure the Legendarium can never be open, even on accident, again, and that she herself agreed to this plan.

Eldora mutters under her breath that she wasn’t given much of a choice, but then formally adresses the Winx’s presence - as they are the last users of Pleiadix, they are the ones that should run the ritual to ensure there’s no issues with it.

A few minutes of preparation later, and everyone arranges themselves in a weird formation, the Winx at the center, a magic circle appearing under them.

Chanting begins, and the Winx plus Roxy focus on their keys, Eldora focusing on the remaining two. The Keys slowly seem to lose their magic, alongside their color, and an incredible surge of magical essence starts to form around everyone.

With a final chant, the essence seems to light up and explode, and a magical shockwave is felt all over the universe.

The Order of Mana then announces this is the birth of a new form - Mythix, and requests the Winx and Roxy to discover how to earn the form.

Everyone is incredibly confused at all this, but Bloom agrees to it, saying that it might be interesting as something to do over the summer. Everyone can pick up that she’d like to occupy her mind on other stuff as she’s still hurting over Selina, and so they agree.

The magic shockwave seems to stir something up in the wind, and stray magic seems to be coalescing, acquiring a vague humanoid shape.

The next day, on Red Fountain, everyone attends to see the graduation ceremony, excited that their friends are now free from Red Fountain. Team 3Q is given extra honors thanks to their help during the last crises the System has fought over, and they are offered positions as teachers in Red Fountain whenever they please for their actions.

Everyone cheers, and after a couple more speeches, a big party is thrown, the Winx and friends reuniting. They all celebrate and chat, and they ask the guys what are they going to do now.

Brandon answers that they’ve been thinking about that for a while now, and they decided to stick together living in Magix for a couple more months before deciding on joining a Guild of warriors as a group or not.

They keep chatting (with Sky helping Stella and Diaspro in trying to cheer Bloom up, but it's not fully successful). Everyone says their goodbyes and decide to rest in their homes for a week before starting the whole Mythix deal.

It’s two days later, on Melody, that the Soniata takes place on Caden, honoring the Hexer Sonia of lore. Musa has a fun time with her dad and brother, and ends up surprised at Galatea also being there, having managed to escape the palace and enjoy some time with local stories on the other side of the country. Musa then tells her the full legend, but as she does that, dark shadowy beasts start to attack.

Musa and Galatea transform, while Jian dons armor and Huan tries to help him evacuate the premises.

The two fairies manage to make quick work of the beings, but end up slightly overwhelmed. At the sight of a couple more families about to be attacked, they both come up with a plan.

Both of them join their magic, Musa starts to play a lullaby on her sword, mimicking the legend, while Galatea begins chanting a long spell, acting as an “amplifier” to Musa’s music. This manages to slowly make all the remaining shadow beasts fall asleep, and with the chance, both fairies unleash a convergence, destroying them all.

A rush of magic envelops them both, and suddenly, they got new forms - Galatea’s perfect control over the voiced ritual earnt her Glissandix, while Musa unlocked Mythix due to her parallelisms with Sonia’s tale, even her sword undergoing a transformation, looking far more detailed. A shadow seems to grumble, before vanishing again.

That night, Musa contacts the rest, telling them of her findings and how she believes it’s tied to stories of their realms or that they know, and that the shadow things she fought felt familiar.

Bloom compares them to the creatures Campana and Venomya used, but Musa says they felt different, much more recent.

Two days later, Flora is on a date with Helia, who came to visit for a couple days, when they hear about the urban legend of a ghost haunting a nearby abandoned hall. Flora, with what Musa said in the back of her mind, tells Helia to go with her to said place after their date is over for help.

After a few hours, they reach the hall, finding Krystal as well, who came to check the place out as a Princess - the Hall was part of the ancient Privamerian royal state, and the rumors concerned her.

They all explore the place for an hour or so, before a sudden apparition shocks them all in the large stage, a shadow of a man seemingly dancing near a large dead tree.

Everyone transforms and goes up to it, other shadows rising and starting to attack them, but Helia and Krystal fend them off while Flora approaches the main shadow, fans at the ready.

The shadow doesn’t seem to move, and looks around, seemingly sad at the dead tree. It then extends a hand to Flora, confused.

Helia keeps fighting the creatures, but Krystal recalls the full story and tells Flora to take the shadow’s hand and to dance, as she rises up and starts to cast a spell on the tree.

Flora is even more confused at this, but trusts Krystal and starts to dance with the shadow, being guided and using her fans as support.

Krystal focuses all her energy on the tree, slowly revitalizing it and making it grow again, as Flora and the shadow dance around it, twirling.

The dance comes to an end as the tree comes back to life fully, lush and gorgeous, and the shadow seems to smile, as it dissipates into yellow specks of light, all traces of darkness gone. Both Flora and Krystal flashed but for a second - Flora earning Mythix, her outfit now vaguely dance-ready, and Krystal getting Arborix from her effort in revitalizing the tree, covered in hydrangea-looking petals.

Krystal then tells her the full story - during the war, a tree was discovered growing in the hall, and a man had been taking care of it keeping it healthy amongst the ruin. However, a faction of the soon-to-be-called Dolona snuck in and destroyed the place, killing him and the tree. The man was apparently still trying to care for the dead tree, and the shadow manifested his repressed anger in the creatures that attacked them.

Late that night, Flora relaid the info to the rest, confirming Musa’s suppositions, and is surprised to learn that Bloom and Roxy have also obtained Mythix.

Bloom obtained it after a royal meeting, having heard rumors that the city was suddenly assaulted by a dragon made of shadows, and after some research with Daphne they confronted it - Daphne recalled a similar tale of a priestess of the Great Fire Dragon having to fight a rival god in the Fire Dragon’s place, having used just a pair of swords - and after the shadow dragon broke Bloom’s bow, she used the two halves augmented with the small Light magic she knew to slay it, her bow also transforming with Mythix and forming a pair of twin swords that can join to become a bow again.

Roxy meanwhile got it via saving Artu from a group of shadows that suddenly kidnapped it, having to be stealthy and facing off a shadow that disturbingly looked way too much like her mother for her to be comfortable, as well as a small knife she had just in case turning into a detailed dagger.

A shadow seems to get even angrier, and a small burst of energy seeps into Astrael, Solaria’s capital, as well as the capitals of Zenith and Andros.

The next day, while out with Nova and Riven, Stella catches wind of the reappearance of The Twilight Maiden. Nova is confused, and Stella elaborates that it was a ghost story that arose shortly after she moved away - the ghost of a woman killed by her lover, who during twilight supposedly whisks away a girl so they don’t suffer her fate.

They go around their day until sunset arrives, but they realize the whole street went quiet all of a sudden, and after inspecting an alleyway following a weird sound, Nova suddenly vanishes.

Both of them panic for a bit and start looking for her, and after a while both transform into their respective forms to look for her in the sky, Riven finding a dark shadow figure up above, as well as some sort of dome over them.

Both rise to meet with it and find a woman-like form, with an angry expression and see Nova, unconscious, in her arms.

Stella tries to get closer but the shadow throws a blast at her, and Riven gets the same treatment, though harsher. Both Riven and Stella assume the shadow is the Twilight Maiden, and so end up using Riven as a decoy while Stella tries to rescue Nova.

Riven then proceeds to taunt the shadow, driving its anger further and further until it drops Nova and starts to chase after the warrior, Stella catching her with a spell.

After leaving the still unresponsive Nova on a nearby roof, Stella takes the distraction and starts casting both a light spell and a healing spell, trying to “exorcise” the spirit controlling the shadow after what Flora told her of her Mythix earning.

The Maiden almost catches up to Riven and does damage one of his wings, but by the time she feels a strange warmth around her it’s too late - Stella fired the spell and completely engulfed her, a short scream followed by a sigh as her shadows faded completely.

Stella then slowly flies down, exhausted, earning her Mythix and her staff evolving once more. She then notices Riven’s armor malfunctioning and tries to catch him as well.

Nova wakes up moments later and everyone then finds a couple other girls near the same place, probably caught by the Maiden, trying to help them as well as they can.

After all this, she relays the info to the rest, and finds out Aisha also got her Mythix, having to fight The Deep One - a massive jellyfish of Mareian mythos that once destroyed Andros in antiquity, her meteor hammers evolving as well following the pattern of everyone else’s weapons.

This means Tecna is the only one without Mythix yet, and at the same time everyone realizes she isn’t in the call, wondering what could have happened to her.

On Zenith, Tecna is currently locked in a random room, after a sudden burst of energy drove most of the equipment in the Grand Palace, the main presidential office of the country, completely out of control. 

She had sent a couple of her assistants to check on the Magic Animals helping on the place and then started to investigate, before some of the machinery started to actively attack her, taking refuge on a random room.

There, however, she found three shadows that matched the description of the other Winx’s experiences, and instinctively transformed, aiming her gun to them. One of the shadows seemed to get annoyed, but another calmed them down and the last one made a gesture, as if they wanted her to follow them.

Not having more options, Tecna did, and after a bit she found a massive hall, covered head to toe in computers, at the center a massive control panel. The shadows seem to focus on the panel, and seem to try to communicate with Tecna. Tecna glances at one of the monitors and sees several dungeon-like structures, the people in them languishing. She finds a file in the computer, detailing many attempts at revolution, the people attempting them thrown into these dungeons, the main computer running them all.

Tecna, while shocked, isn’t really surprised - she knew she couldn’t have been the first person to try to rise against Datacorp, but it is still disheartening and terrible to see these people still suffering. She tries to turn off the machine, but it seems to lash out.

The shadows alongside her recoil in what she assumes is fear, and as the machine seems to start commanding different objects in the room to fling themselves at Tecna, something similar must have happened before, and assumes this is a failsafe mechanism installed by the Council.

Tecna keeps dodging and starts charging a spell with her gun, and asks the shadows to help her if they’re able, assuming they also want to destroy the thing. They start disrupting the commands thanks to them being non-corporeal, and after a few minutes, Tecna manages to fire off the spell, destroying the machine and somehow earning Mythix, her gun getting retouches.

The shadows start to flicker, and through broken speech manage to tell Tecna they were the leaders of the last attempt at a Zenithian revolution, perishing in prison without no one ever knowing about their existence. They tell her that she managed to do something that was considered impossible, a myth, and thank her before completely disappearing.

After recovering her energy and making sure everything else is working properly, she contacts the Winx again, and after thanking them for worrying about her, tells them she also got Mythix, and so if everyone has it, they should go back to the Order and tell them their findings.

The apparition gets even angrier, and it seems to be starting to manifest a stronger spell.

A few days later, everyone goes back to Lake Roccaluce, ready to inform the Order of their findings, before suddenly being attacked by the shadows again.

With Mythix, the shadows seem to go down even faster, and Roxy and Bloom seem to register its magic signature as that of Acheron’s. Everyone else questions how can that be given he’s dead, but Musa points out that Darkar was similar in that regard.

Acheron then reveals himself fully, a literal shadow of his former self, seemingly in an eternal Energix and his face twisted into anger and hatred. He keeps up the assault, and after a bit, the Winx and Roxy start to feel tired of fighting.

They start to brainstorm ways to defeat Acheron once more, and they come to the conclusion to try and disrupt his form, similar to what they did with Darkar once he went insane, and set up the plan.

Roxy and Bloom rush in to distract him, angering the shadow enough to focus solely on them, while Musa takes down any straggler creatures and Flora, Stella and Tecna start to form a convergence. This seems to work for a while before a couple shadows tackle Tecna, but they’re quickly dealt with when Eldora and a couple of the Order of Mana magi arrive, wondering what was taking the Winx so long.

They take over the distraction job, and with no further setbacks, the other 4 join the 3 Winx and combine the convergence, erasing Acheron once more, all the shadows disappearing.

A bit later, now in HQ, the Nymph spearheading the Mythix project both congratulates the girls on discovering the ways to earn Mythix while also apologizing for causing Acheron’s comeback, confusing everyone else.

They elaborate - when doing the ritual to create Mythix, it seems the magic shockwave was powerful and familiar enough for Acheron’s still lingering soul to also be affected, turning him into a ghost, and while reduced to basic instinct and emotion, he still wanted revenge on the Winx for killing him in the first place.

However, unlike Darkar, who was the fusion of two consciences and Auras, Acheron was still just one person, so he had to rely on pulling energy from elsewhere to try and attack, leading to the events that earnt everyone Mythix.

They still admit that Acheron’s temporary revival helped further their goal so it wasn’t something completely bad, but immediately retract when they catch Eldora and the Winx’s expressions, and dismiss them all to be free to continue their break.

As they’re leaving, however, they are surprised by Faragonda, who wants to talk to Roxy in private for a special project she wants her help with, and that can also act as her thesis if she so desires, but it must be a secret until the new school year starts.

Roxy agrees, curious as for why she would be needed, and bids goodbye to the rest, who start to go back to their realms to have an actual, proper vacation for once, their last breaks being incredibly hectic.

In a cave system in Magix, meanwhile, a Fairy seems to have heard about Faragonda’s plans already, and starts to make interesting preparations...

[bambagelfics]

I Know How Your Story Ends CH. 1

Prologue part 2 / Ch. 2

Warnings: Slow chapter, sorry. Will pick up soon. Also swearing

~~~

The sun had already passed beneath the hills when you arrived, and it only made the sight that much more surreal. Of course you’d feel that way, this was one of the places you dreamed of whenever you would close your eyes. You’d always imagined coming to this very world, taking part in the stories that took place inside the books you loved to read. And here you are. 

You stopped for a second on the edge of hobbiton, taking in the sight of the homely place lit only by the lights through the windows of the homes. From up on the hill it looked so big yet so small at the same time. It was only when Samwise, your horse, huffed in what seemed to be his own anticipation were you snapped out of your day dreams. 

You gave him a soft kick as if to give him permission to get moving and off you went. You briefly worried about getting lost, maybe people gave Thorin too much crap when it really was kinda hard to navigate the place, but you tried not to worry too much about that part. You were about to meet the company after all. At least that’s what you suspected. 

Hoping that following the main path was enough, you scanned the houses for one that looked familiar. It was hard in the darkness, and you honestly doubted you would’ve found it if it wasn’t for the soft blue light from a ruin that was carved on the dark green door. You rode up and tied Samwise to the gate, patting his nose in comfort and swearing you’d be back soon enough before passing through the gate yourself. 

As your feet stomped against the path you wondered if this was worth it, you wondered if the wizard really could help you get home, and wondered why he even wanted you here in the first place. Weren’t dwarves stubborn creatures? Would they even let you join them? Knowing Gandalf he most likely hadn’t told them beforehand of your presence. And would you even help? Could you? You always thought about this world, how you said you would be a beast with the sword and take down anyone who dared challenge you. But in reality you had never actually held a sword before, besides the foam ones for Halloween of course. So why were you even here?

You almost turned back, you didn’t want to hinder the quest and the question that you might change the storyline and make something go horribly wrong had crossed your mind many times since leaving Bree that morning. However, the fact was that you were in a foreign world, and the wizard was the only way home, or at least the only one who could help you find a way. 

With some hesitation still, you mustered up some courage and knocked. 

The voices that you hadn’t even realized were passing through the walls ceased immediately and anxiety set in your gut. Even more than before. 

The door swung open before you knew it and you had to look down to see who had opened. 

“Um, hello, are you with the rest of them?”

The timid voice and curly hair told you immediately that this was Bilbo. It was strange, he looked like he did in the movies but also didn’t at the same time and you couldn’t quite understand it. 

Before you could reply you heard another familiar voice, familiar as in someone you had talked to before and not heard on screen. 

“Ah! Y/n! So glad you made it!” Gandalf greeted as he approached, ducking his head to avoid hitting the chandelier. 

“Yeah, haha,” you laughed awkwardly, “hi,” 

“Come in!” Gandalf ushered, and you did as told as Bilbo stepped out of the way to let you enter. 

You memory flipped back to how bad you felt for the Hobbit, with all the uninvited intrusion into his home and he never had received as much as a thank you for his hospitality to the dwarves. In that realization you decided to do better up front. 

“Thanks so much, and sorry for barging in on you,” you addressed him, scratching the back of your neck sheepishly.

“Oh no, it’s not a problem,” Bilbo was surprised at your politeness in contrast to all the others who were already there, “I suppose one more couldn’t hurt,”

You smiled at him, “Thank you again, Mr...?” You did of course know his name, but pretended not to. You really weren’t sure what kind of uproar would follow if you already knew his name. 

“Bilbo, Bilbo Baggins,” he smiled back. 

“Nice to meet you,”

“Who is this?”

With the sudden, more rugged and considerably deeper voice you attention quickly shifted to the audience that you had failed to notice before. 

You froze, uncomfortable under their stares and you could already feel the judgement not-so hidden behind their eyes. 

“She is here to help. Shall we go back to the table?” That was Gandalf, addressing the dwarf that spoke up, cutting off what kind of questions would come, “I shall explain then,”

The dwarves grumbled, retreating back towards the room. 

“Am I late?” You asked as Bilbo closed the door finally, seeing as you stepped out of the way. 

“Only a little,” Gandalf smiled, and you knew that it was probably more than that, but hopefully not much. Of course you knew what happened in this part, but you had decided in your panic outside that perhaps letting the dwarves know that you did wasn’t the best idea. 

You were snapped out of your doubt when Gandalf turned and gestures for you and Bilbo to follow, and you did. You stopped briefly and considered taking off you shoes for Bilbo’s sake, but figured that you shouldn’t and it was okay. You did discretely wipe some of the mud off on the mat though. 

You didn’t really enter the dining area. You saw how crowded it was, every dwarf was crammed in there, all seats taken. The fact that the table was clear told you that you missed the fun part, which you were slightly upset over. But you didn’t have time to morn over it with all the side glances and whispers. 

Even so, Gandalf wouldn’t address the, well, “you” situation until later, and instead started laying out the map. 

“Over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands,” it seems you had knocked just as Bilbo had gone to get the light Gandalf requested, “lies a single solidarity peek,”

“The lonely mountain...” Bilbo read out loud as he leaned over Gandalf’s shoulder to see. You chained your neck slightly in the doorway to get a glance, but didn’t dare get closer. 

“Aye, Oin has read the portents, and the portents say,” Gloin paused for effect, “it is time,”

“Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold,” Oin continued, “When the birds of yore return to the mountain the reign of the beast will end,”

“Uh, what beast?”

You wondered how Bilbo didn’t get the idea by the picture of the dragon drawn over the mountain alone, but decided not to judge based on that. 

“That would be a reference to Smaug the terrible,” the dwarf who’s voice you recognized as Bofur spoke up, “chiefest and greatest calamity of our time,”

He went on to describe the rest but you tuned out, much like Bilbo who replied with a “Yes, I know what a dragon is thank you,”

The next thing that happened was a mostly naive Ori declaring he’d shove a metal toothpick up the dragon’s ass, and then an uproar, but you figured most of that wasn’t important. They did ask how many dragons Gandalf had killed though, and that was slightly amusing to see him try to avoid the question by smoking his pipe. 

“Enough!” A booming voice calmed everyone’s ramblings, “if we have read the signs do you not think others have read them too?”

Ah yes, that was Thorin. The Thorin. You couldn’t help but look at him with slight awe, he was your favourite character after all. But you quickly got rid of that. 

The tallest dwarf rambled on a bit, condemning the others for not thinking about the may-be enemies that would also be setting off soon. Also adding a short speech about getting there first. 

“But you forget, the gate is sealed,” Balin spoke, looking low spirited, “there is no way into the mountain,”

“That,” Gandalf replies, “My dear Balin, is not entirely true,”

And there it was. The key into Erebor. Gandalf displayed it to the room, hand gesture making it seem like it was coming out of nowhere. 

You made a mental note to make him teach you later. 

“How come you by this?” 

“It was given to me by Thrain for safekeeping, it is yours now,”

The dwarves spoke about the door briefly, ending it with another pessimistic note. 

“Dwarf doors are invisible while closed,”

“The answer lies somewhere in this map, and I do not have the skill to find it.  But there are others in middle earth who can,” Gandalf had given you a slight side glance when speaking this, one you didn’t notice. 

You were too busy smirking to yourself. You knew how to get in. Of course you couldn’t tell them right off the bat, but the fact that you knew something in that moment that Gandalf didn’t made you slightly cocky. 

Although he saw it, the wizard payed it no mind. At least not for now. 

“The task I have in mind will require a great amount of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But if we are careful and clever, I believe it can be done,” Gandalf looked to Bilbo who was on his right, “That’s why we need a burglar,”

Bilbo hummed, “and a good one too,” he added, “An expert, I’d imagine,”

“And are you?”

“Am I what?”

“He said he’s an expert!” Oin, the old dwarf with hearing issues exclaimed. 

Having been out of the spotlight for awhile, you were starting to enjoy watching how they interacted. It was especially funny to see Bilbo scramble as he tried to get out of the hole someone else had dug for him and in his attempts to get out only loosened the dirt more. 

“He’s hardly burglar material,” one had said, and you could see the slight look of offence on Bilbo’s face before he replied with a “see?” to help him get out. 

“And what about her then?”

You amused look vanished when you realized you were being addressed, all eyes on you now. 

“You brought us a worthless burglar and a woman,” one of the harsher dwarves spoke to Gandalf, the anxiety that rose in your chest then blocked you from identifying them, “whys she here? We hardly have any use for free loaders,”

Why these fucking-

Yes, as far as you knew you had no idea how to use a sword and probably  wouldn’t be much help. But what pissed you off was the fact that because you were a girl, they assumed right off the bat you were useless. 

Before you could open your mouth to reply Gandalf responded. 

“If I say Bilbo is a burglar, than a burglar he is!” Gandalf was standing now, he looked angry, “And miss Y/n is far stronger than you all think. You enlisted me to find the 14th member of this company, and I have chosen master Baggins. And I have brought you a bonus. They offer much more than any of you know, including themselves,”

Both you and Bilbo gave Gandalf a questioning look, but before you could ask Thorin spoke up. 

“Very well, we will do it your way,” he didn’t sound pleased, but order Balin to pass the contract anyway. 

It was only meant for Bilbo, because they were only expecting a burglar, but you preferred not having to sign a contract anyway. 

Despite this, Balin said he’d write up a simple one for you to sign by tomorrow morning. You decided not to argue. 

“...Funeral arrangements?” Bilbo spoke up. He’d been reading it all off out loud but you only decided to hear that part. 

He read some more, until he hit it. 

“Incineration?”

“Aye, he’ll melt the flesh right off your bones,” Bofur replied, not helping the situation. 

You swore that was the point of his character in this story. 

And he continued to do so, not help that is, as by the end of his telling the poor hobbit the horrible ways he could die on this quest said halfling promptly fainted. 

“Fun,” you spoke sarcastically as he collapsed, earning more looks. 

You better get used to that 

Bilbo was moved to a chair and you all waited for him to wake up. During that time and the time following in which he kept saying he had to “sit quietly for a moment” you got to mingling. 

You could tell that not many, if any of the dwarves trusted you. And all were suspicious. You did manage some semi decent conversations though. 

Bilbo ended up rejecting the contract, you, again, were fully aware that was going to happen. It didn’t bother you though. He would be back.

The night went on, a song by the campfire was sung and you relished in that tune before the soon to be company of Thorin Oakensheild decided to hit the hay. Blankets were passed around, and you ended up sleeping on the floor somewhere.

“We leave at dawn tomorrow,” Fili, one of the dwarves you had been able to talk to tonight informed you, “Make sure you’re ready to go,”

“Sure thing,”

And with that you slept uncomfortably on the floor of Bilbo’s home, just like all the others. You better get used to those sorts of sleeping conditions

[hamliet]

Your Fate Is Up to You

“I WILL CHANGE FATE I DON’T POSSESS. MY FATE IS UP TO ME AND NOT THE HEAVENS!”

So said Shi Wu Du right before he died. In doing so he directly stated TGCF’s existentialist themes on deciding your own fate.

On the most obvious level, within TGCF the roles of god, demon, human don’t dictate whether or not someone is a good or righteous person. I mean, the worst demonic calamity in Bai WuXiang and the head god Jun Wu are the same person.

To start with I might as well just state it outright that my thoughts on Jun Wu are probably a lot harsher than most of the fandom’s. That said the narrative definitely has empathy for him and his ending was perfect and objectively beautiful.

Like most of MXTX’s antagonists, Jun Wu is attempting to force empathy because he feels lonely. It’s the same motivation that drives Shen Jiu, Xue Yang, Jin GuangYao, He Xuan, Qi Rong even, etc, etc, etc. It’s also what drives many of our protagonists (Wei WuXian, Luo BingHe, Hua Cheng, etc.) Yet in the end, Jun Wu is not actually forcing people to empathize with him, but instead dragging them down with him, and he needs to realize this.

The scene where Mu Qing is poised to fall into the lava (a symbol of the hell that started it all) tells us:

Many small broken threads of flames were also singing Mu Qing’s robes, and the hilt was scorching hot, yet he still gripped on hard, afraid to let go, and afraid to look down.

If he was to let go then it was nothing but blazing flames and lava waiting for him down below. There was also the hungry wailing of countless spirits of the deceased, their cries resounding and echoing, as if they were calling for the one struggling, hanging on for dear life above to hurry and join them in companionship.

Jun Wu really just wants someone to hurry and join him in despair. But it’s also symbolic in showing the difference in Xie Lian, because instead of sacrificing parts of himself (aka his three friends: Hua Cheng, Feng Xin, and Mu Qing, plus Mei Nian Qing again), he’s determined to save them even though some might not necessarily deserve it. Feng Xin and Mu Qing haven’t treated him particularly well, but they’re a part of each other. Mu Qing is the part of Xie Lian that others tried to shame, the part of him willing to do whatever it took to accomplish his goals (usually saving people), the part of him that almost led him into becoming Bai WuXiang himself. Xie Lian needs to reconcile that part of him, the choices he made that were both good and bad in these traits, with his animus (Hua Cheng) and with his princely side in all its strengths and flaws too (Feng Xin).

Anyways, all that to say it’s fitting Mu Qing is the one dangling, about to be burned. Because especially after Jun Wu has taken so much from Xie Lian, it’d be fitting for him to deny that part of himself and any risk that he would be like Jun Wu. But he doesn’t do this, because he is similar in some sense, and because he knows it. And even if Mu Qing had sided with Jun Wu by then (and he hadn’t), Xie Lian decides to save him. It works with the theme of rebirth, in which the butterflies cannot fly over, but Xie Lian himself can because he’s strong enough to do it on his own:

Hua Cheng casually let loose a silver butterfly. That silver butterfly fluttered its wings, flying out for a few hundred feet, but before it reached even one third of the way to Mu Qing, it dissipated into silver smoke and vanished in the air.

Xie Lian knew that he was demonstrating that the wraith butterflies could not help; it was a dead end, not worth dying for. 

Mu Qing also witnessed the vanishing process of that silver butterfly, his expression gradually turning into one of despair.

He understood. Right now, one, there was no one who had the ability to save him, second, no one believed him, and on the grounds of his triggering, there was no reason at all for Xie Lian to come pull him up at the risk of his own life.

But, while despairing, he still refused to yield, and he was unwilling to give up. Mu Qing gritted his teeth, shouting, “IF YOU DON’T BELIEVE ME THAT’S FINE TOO, BUT I WILL NEVER FALL THAT EASILY!” 

(It’s also why during the final physical fight, MQ and FX are yet again dangling over a pit.) Xie Lian chooses to reconcile with himself, with his shadow self and with what he could have (and almost did) become, with the friends he’d driven away. In saving his loved ones, he saves himself.

Therefore, it’s fitting Jun Wu didn’t die. He could not make Xie Lian into anything close to what he became because of his choices. It tells Jun Wu that yes, Xie Lian and him are alike, but that doesn’t mean they’re destined to walk the same path. It was his choices that led him here. And because Xie Lian reconciled, there’s hope for him to reconcile with himself too.

His being forced to remain alive even after having done so much evil, and Mei Nian Qing choosing to stay with him as well, ultimately disproves Jun Wu’s cynical view of the world. It offers him another chance. Someone can always choose to do better, and he is left with MNQ who chose to do better just like he needs to.

He didn’t intend to get up at all, and Xie Lian asked, “Master, are you not coming?” 

Head Priest shook his head, “I’ll keep his highness company. After all, in the past, I didn’t stay by his side.” 

The rain was coming down harder, scouring Jun Wu’s resting face, washing away the life and blood flowing from his wounds.

As the rain washed, Xie Lian felt the three human faces on his face seemed to have gradually faded somewhat. Maybe it was his imagination.

After a moment of silence, Xie Lian took off the bamboo hat carried on his back, and tossed it from his hand, covering it over Jun Wu’s face.

Not only that, but there is a part of Xie Lian and a part of Jun Wu that are similar, that are good. And that’s the desire to save people and an understanding of hypocrisy. Though Jun Wu completely forsook the whole saving people thing for awhile, it’s not like his actions are entirely useless. The dichotomy between the righteousness of the gods and evils of demons has been completely ripped into shreds, and people on both sides have to make choices to make better.

Like, it’s pretty telling that the three gods we see who are the kindest and most benevolent are Shi Qing Xuan, whose brother cheated to get him an ascension, Xie Lian, who got kicked out twice, Yu Shi Huang, who was scorned by all during her life, and then also there’s Hua Cheng who outright refused to ascend. Everyone else who was expected to ascend and then did is a complete disaster. (Though again, Shi Wu Du outright gave us this existentialist theme with his last words: “I decide my fate!”)

Even among these disasters, we see improvements. Mu Qing is honest with Xie Lian about how he wanted to be his friend. Pei Ming tells a demon whom he wronged who has now stalked him for years to love herself, to do better, that she can choose to be better. 

And among the demons, Hua Cheng saves the day with his love for Xie Lian. Qi Rong dies saving a human child, a callback to the same act that started all of this (when Xie Lian chose to save Hua Cheng instead of continuing a festival to the gods). And He Xuan helps save the gods he betrayed, in particular returning Shi Qing Xuan a reminder of who he is. He may not have earned his ascension, but he’s the one in the end protecting the people with spiritual powers, because he is strong enough even without his brother’s help. Instead of defining Shi Qing Xuan by who his brother is, He Xuan defines him by who Shi Qing Xuan is.

When he saw a “Hua Cheng” come by, he quickly called out, “CRIMSON RAIN SOUGHT FLOWER!!! You’ve finally come back! What the heck were you doing leaving for so long, have you thought of a way to connect with his highness? No no no you best think of a way to help me deal with the situation here first, do you see all those fiery rocks coming down from the sky? Think, fast! Blow a breath or make those endless little butterflies go up and chase them away or something, otherwise we’ll die....”

“Hua Cheng” didn’t speak a word, coldly allowing Shi Qing Xuan say that giant pile of words in one breath, and finally, as if he was growing impatient listening, he cut him off directly, “Deal with it yourself.” 

Shi Qing Xuan exclaimed, “Deal with it myself? Don’t joke at a time like this, I’m not his highness, I can’t understand your jokes. How do I deal with those rocks on my own…” Before he finished his sentence, “Hua Cheng” seized his back collar, and yanked him out of the human array directly.

...Yet unexpectedly, after “Hua Cheng” had pulled him out he wasn’t done, and a hand came swinging, smacked him and sent him flying out.

...“It’s fine it’s fine, I didn’t die! He didn’t really hit me, he was just lending spiritual powers!” ...

Shi Qing Xuan examined his hands, then looked at his own body, emitting spiritual light from head to toe...

Just then, “Hua Cheng” flung his right hand, and tossed something at him. Without thinking, Shi Qing Xuan raised his hand to catch, but when he saw what it was he caught, his entire face blanched.

That object was the Wind Master fan!...

Shi Qing Xuan was clutching that dearly familiar fan, his neck stiff, and slowly turned to that “Hua Cheng”.“Hua Cheng” then repeated again coldly, “Deal with it yourself.” 

He Xuan, someone who had no faith in justice or the gods or anyone, has faith in this one former god, now a beggar. And because of the return of his fan, because of who He Xuan is, Shi Qing Xuan remembers who he is and who he could be as a god, and saves people.

You only need one person to believe in you, to remind you that you can be better, in the end.  For Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, for Shi Qing Xuan and He Xuan, for Gu Zi and Qi Rong, for Xuan Ji and Pei Ming, and even for Jun Wu and Mei Nian Qing.

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

Time to move on

Warning: Angst. One hurting prickly porcupine warlord in modern au. 

Masterlist

---

Time to move on

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Every fibre in his being was screaming at him, telling him that and yet he still couldn’t move. The pale lilacs and delicate daisies adorned the seating for the simple ceremony. The soft waves lapping at the shore were drowned out by his hammering heart. He watched expressionlessly as she walked slowly towards the arch of white roses.

Her hair was flowing free, her usual style had been altered for today and he couldn’t prevent himself from looking at her. A couple of thin braids had been twisted together to create a crown on her head, small pearl accessories settled in them like sea foam. The pastel shade of her gown complimented her blushing face. She was a vision in all her blissful happiness and with each step she took, it felt like another dagger plunged into his chest.

*

The previous night…

Everyone had finally arrived at the small hotel and in typical Nobunaga style, a celebration party was being thrown. He called it “one last night of freedom” but it boiled down to any excuse to drink when he could finally gather everyone in the same place.

Mc had been in her room but appeared after a few hours encouraged by a slightly drunk Hideyoshi and a grinning Mitsuhide. She looked just the same as the day he’d met her. 6 years… had it really been that long? She looked a little uncomfortable glancing around the room at the men, something he couldn’t help but empathise with.

“Don’t just stand there blocking the door.” He called out to her his tone a little harsher than he had meant it to be. When she turned her big eyes in his direction, he felt instantly guilty for it. “There’s some room over here if you are looking for a seat. Or not, it’s up to you.”

“Thank you, Yasu.” She gingerly took a seat next to him at the bar and received a brightly coloured cocktail from the bartender. She looked tense. He was never very good at getting people to relax, but then again, he was never bothered by such a thing until now. She had always had this way of throwing him off his game to the point where he was at a loss at to what to do with himself.

*

The new semester had started and he had managed to rush out of the house forgetting to pick up his thermos. The coffee he had brewed was nowhere at hand so he had gone to the student café and that was when he met her. She was laughing and joking with ease behind the counter with the other students and when she looked at him he thought his heart had stopped.

That was the first time he saw her but It wasn’t the last. He kept going back for coffee but only on days, she was working. Never before had he been so interested in someone. They had slowly opened up some dialogue with each other that he didn’t find as frustratingly exhausting as he had thought it would be. She somehow wasn’t like other people and he was silently drawn to her.

His reluctance to admit how he felt directly ended up costing him dearly. Mitsunari had followed him one day to return some textbooks he had borrowed and in a clumsy display of short-sightedness, he had bumped into Mc as she was wiping down a table. He watched as she exchanged words in complete freefall with the smiling annoyance.

The conversations he had had with her seemed to pale by comparison as he watched the effortless grace with which Mitsunari gained knowledge from Mc and even managed to shamelessly offer to attend an exhibit at a museum with her. The coffee in his mug had lost its flavour that day and he was convinced the strawberry tart was made from ash.

*

Several drinks later he became more aware of the woman next to him. She had spoken to the others on and off but remained seated at the bar almost as if she was hiding. Not surprising given the fact it was the night before her wedding and she probably didn’t want to be here. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye noticing how flushed her face looked. Counting the glasses lined up next to her he made the connection quickly.

“Come on.” He got to his feet and grabbed her hand, giving it a small tug.

“Huh? Where are we going?” despite her confusion she was already moving to join him.

“To get some air, you’re drunk.” He pointed out what should have been obvious rolling his eyes attempting not to notice how warm her hand was in his.

“I am not.” Mc grumbled cutely with a pout causing him to sigh in exasperation. Everything was complicated enough in his head without this on top. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to her, his emerald eyes communicating the unspoken concern for her.

“Look either you walk out there or I carry you out. Either way, you are getting air. It is going to be a pain in the ass if you collapse in here. You will worry everyone and I will have to treat you for being a drunken fool.” He still hadn’t let go of her hand and just stood there watching as she swayed slightly on the spot letting his words sink in as the gears in her mind slowly clicked round.

“Ok, I’ll walk.”

“Good” He turned away from her again and began waking not noticing the soft smile playing on his face.

“You know for a Doctor you have a terrible bedside manner.” Her complaint from behind him almost made him laugh.

“I might be a doctor but I’m mostly dealing with research. You don’t get many Petri dishes complaining about your choice of words and attitude.”

Outside the building, the moon was high in the sky sending rays of white light down onto the surface of the water. It was a beautifully serene place which made how he was feeling all the more frustrating. He didn’t want to admit the place was great, that she looked fantastic even in just her normal clothes. He certainly didn’t want to remember that tomorrow she would be marrying one of the clumsiest and oblivious geniuses that he knew. Hell, he didn’t even want to admit he thought that Nari was smart. He dropped her hand and let her lean on the balustrade her eyes travelling out to the ocean and gleaming as they reflected the dancing light on the water.

“You know I can never get a read on you?”

“What?” Her small voice was like a whisper but he caught every word none the less.

“I could never figure you out. One minute you seemed like the most disinterested guy I’d ever met but then you could do something so thoughtful just a few moments later making my heart race that I was always thrown off by you.” Fuelled by her drunkenness her uncandid honesty made his jaw drop. How long had she felt like that? His mind reeled as it tried to grasp on to something stable. He had never said anything to her, he always wanted too but it had just never happened.

“You weren’t the only one thrown off.”

“What?” She turned to him and he could see himself reflected perfectly in her eyes. He wanted to remain there but there was something else bubbling away inside his chest now. Guilt. Along with the regret and unconfessed affection he had developed a sensation of guilt for everything.

“Well you weren’t difficult to talk to but you were always making an effort and it was a little distracting. It used to throw me off sometimes.” He tried to play off his previous comment like it was nothing. Her face contorted into an uneasy smile and he felt his heart twist as he saw it. Why couldn’t he just be honest even now?

“I see. Well, I’m not sorry for doing that. You are a good guy Ieyasu… A good friend.” Her last word hit him like a truck. Friend. Yes, that was all he was now. All he could ever be to her and the reality of that suddenly took all the colour out of the world. All of the sound and light vanished until he was alone in the dark with his ‘what ifs?’.

The wind picked up, pulling her hair loose from its tie and without hesitation, he took his hand and tucked it back behind her ear. Her eyes were again fixed on him. He was close enough now, closer than before to catch the scent of her shampoo on the wind. He heard her breath catch in her throat just as his had. It felt like they were in their own pocket of time.

*

A hand patting him on the shoulder broke him from his memory.

“She looks happy doesn’t she?”

“Does she?” Ieyasu glanced to the man next to him and felt the desire to suddenly pull away but held still. Carnelian eyes and a knowing smirk told him that once more Nobu had seen easily through him and he hated it when he did that.

“Sometimes it's better to let things go and accept it than to hold on to things and watch it destroy everything.” Nobu returned his gaze to the happy couple at the altar. That pale cream tux and lilac blazer complimented the dress, making them look picture perfect. As much as it made him feel sick to his stomach he also couldn’t deny that what he was being told was true.

“You think you are always so smart…” Ieyasu gripped quietly and the hand on his shoulder tightened its grip for a fraction of a second before pulling away.

“You don’t need me to tell you the rest. But she is happy Ieyasu. There is some solace to be found in that for you even if right now it is the furthest thing from your mind.”

*

The ceremony was over and the happy couple could be seen laughing with a carefree attitude to the rest of the world as they spun around on the sand to some music. The sunlight caught sections of her hair and glittering lace embellishments making her shine like a star.

He hated this. He hated that he had let the chance slip past him. He hated ho he couldn’t say what he wanted too. He hated even more that she was in the arms of another man smiling like that for them and not him. But most of all he hated himself. He turned away from the dancing and made to slip away unnoticed back to the hotel, hoping to find some release from his on condemnation at the bottom of a bottle somewhere.

“Ieyasu!”

His feet stopped as he heard his name. He snorted at his own inability to even do something as simple as leaving unhindered.

“Shouldn’t you be dancing? What are you doing chasing after me Nari?” Ieyasu turned to notice that the silver-haired groom was not alone and bit back every other harsh comment he had.

“We just wondered where you were going. We saw you leaving and…” Mc did indeed look genuinely concerned and he couldn’t help but think she was unintentionally cruel. Bitterness flowed through him leaving a nasty taste in his mouth but he forced himself to act normally.

“Can a guy not go to the bathroom in peace anymore?”

“Oh! Of course… sorry, we were a little worried that maybe you weren’t feeling well.”

Ieyasu maintained his gruff appearance as he watched them return without him. Never before had he been so thankful that Nari was so oblivious to things. Deep down he knew Nobu had said what he did because it was true and he cared. That knowledge didn’t help him right now though.

“Time to move on…” He muttered to himself before continuing to head back to his room. He didn’t know how long it was going to take but he was certain of one thing. He wanted her to be happy. He closed his eyes and held a deep breath for just long enough his body almost forgot how to breathe.

---

[sebbies]

power over me

a/n: i tried to have some sort of plot going lmao. also this is six pages on google docs word count: 3255 (!!!) warnings: smut, light dom/sub, idk masterlist

She will be the death of me.

Bucky felt his cheeks flush for the millionth time during his class as he continued his lecture on the use of mathematics in wartime. He tried to keep his eyes moving throughout the classroom but the pull was irresistible and he found himself glancing over to the girl in sitting in one of the seats that were directly in the middle. He could see you was wearing a short skirt, legs open revealing your panties in his favourite colour.

He checks the time on his watch seeing that he only had to go through this torture for five more minutes before he could go home and jerk himself senseless. A student’s cough brought him back to reality. Bucky looked over to his desk and saw the piles of paper. Right, he thought to himself, he could pass those out and kill time. Once the papers were passed out, he spoke about some general feedback he noticed on all papers as he graded them. He gave them instructions on what they need to do for next week before dismissing them.

Bucky quickly manoeuvres his way to stand behind his desk, hoping to hide his growing erection. A few students wave him goodbyes as they shuffle out the room. He held his breath when it was your turn to pass him.

“Goodbye, Professor Barnes,” you said sweetly, sending him a wink.

“Goodbye Ms. Y/N,” he responded, letting out a deep breath.

Once the last student left, he exhaled in the now empty room and leaned forward, more papers sticking to the bottom of his sweaty hands. He tried to clear his mind, he had to think of something else, anything else than the mouth watering sight of his student showing him everything.

The sound of the door opening caused him to look up. He was wide eyed when he watched you click the lock.

“Hello, Professor Barnes.” You walked with a sway of your hips to him until you were standing next to him, close enough to smell his cologne.

Shit.

You both gazed in each others eyes longingly; not a word spoken by either of you. Just letting the silence of the empty lecture hall engulf you in a safe bubble. You had been lost within the breathless paradise of Bucky’s dreamy eyes and no sooner without authority he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you close up against his chest. Bucky was all logic and feigned cool detachment until he was near you, touching you. Then something not only stirred in him, but took over his thinking. The rest of the world became an unimportant blur, the only thing that mattered was your body leaning against his.

A hand of his gently glided through your hair, as he continued to look at you in a way he had never looked at anyone before. In the complete brightness of the fluorescent lights, your eyes still seemed to be like candles in the night, their light a spark of passion, a desire. As a small but teasing smile crept up on his face he began kissing your neck; the spot that Bucky knew that once he touched it with his lips, any resistance you had left crumbled. Kissing that spot was like turning the key on an engine. Once it’s done, you’re ready to be all his. Every kiss you shared had a raw intensity- fast breathing and heart beats becoming faster. An intensity so strong that goosebumps lined your skin, not the kind that one gets in the cold, but the kind one gets when nothing else matters except for the right here, right now. A single touch is enough to cause your skin to tingle in a frenzy static.

And suddenly you feel Bucky’s lips brush against yours. Not innocently, like a tease but a hot demanding fiery passion.

“Y/N,” he whispered slowly, almost prolonging each letter as if to savour them. A smile etches onto your face at the sound of his voice. A sound that can have your heart flutter in an instant. You clasp your hands on either side of his face, unable to hold back and resist any longer, you pressed your mouth hungirly to his. A gasp escaped your lips when you felt your back hit the cold whiteboard. Bucky chuckled into the kiss, not being able to fully pull away. To him, your kisses were his salvation and still his torment. He would live for them and die with the memory of them on his lips. You slung your left arm around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair as your right hand began to greedily undo his dress shirt. Your lips parted for only a second before clasping onto one another once again with an added pressure that caused both of you to moan.

Bucky took your hand away from his shirt and you whimpered but soon forgot about the shirt once one of his hands slid smoothly up your arm and pinning it against the whiteboard. Drunk on endorphins, every thought was obliterated from your minds. It felt as if your brain was on fire and you could feel the warmth spreading throughout your body. And just like the first time Bucky had kissed you, you knew you were addicted. Reluctantly, Bucky removed his lips from yours and letting your arm fall to your side as you started to leisurely open your eyes. He stares back at you with calm eyes and rested his forehead against yours. Bucky nuzzles your neck and pressed delicate kisses along your shoulder.

“Professor,” you said in a breathless whisper. Bucky groaned and his hands gripped your waist a little tighter.

“Let me help you,” you continued as your fallen hand softly strokes his hard on through his pants. God, you were like a drug to him. One touch and his intoxication is instant. It puts his mind into a frenzy of sparks and engulfed all his senses and stole his worries. He knows he’s addicted, but it’s fine with because he also knows you’re equally addicted to him.

You push yourself off the whiteboard with a had splayed out on Bucky’s chest, pushing him until his body makes contact with the desk behind him.

The moment he felt the hard wood against his body, he created a vice grip around the edge of the desk; almost to the point he’s worried that it might crack but every worry vanished as he watched you slowly fall to your knees.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mumbled when your fingers began to undo his belt buckle. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off you as you took his cock out of the confines of his pants.

“Jesus,” he groaned just as you closed your lips around the head of his swollen head and sucked it into your mouth.

“Such a hot little mouth you have, baby.” He stared down at you and loved the way your eyes locked with his. Bucky couldn’t understand how one could look so innocent and naughty at the same time like how you looked right now.

Almost as if on instinct, he jutted his hips upwards with a groan, sliding himself deeper into your mouth, receiving a muffled hum from you. The noise caused him to thrust again, loving how the vibrations felt around his dick.

You pulled back, popping him out of your lips before running your tongue along the base of his shaft.

“Mmm, you taste so good,” you said in your most seductive voice, “professor,” and winked at him. In that moment, Bucky swore on his life that his dick is the hardest it’s ever been.

A loud ‘oh fuck’ escaped his mouth as he felt your tongue fondle his balls, feeling how you twirled it around and lapping them up. He shudders against the desk, causing it to scrape the floor as it gets pushed back when he feels your hand slide up his thigh before you started to jerk him up and down.

While he emitted a louder groan than before, Bucky threw his head back, surrendering himself to you completely. There can’t be anything better than this he thought to himself, letting the pleasure soak right into his bones. He wanted to feel this with you, be with you forever, if possible. Bucky closed his eyes and savoured the moment, afraid that it would be ruined due to his schedule. He never lightened his grip on the desk and for the first time that week, his body and mind were relaxed. In that moment everything was about you and him. Bucky’s eyes snapped open and were wide when he looked down at you, just in time to see you suck his balls into your mouth.

“Fuck, baby.” You let it go only to suck in the other one, taking turns eating him up. Bucky noticed the cum that had immediately started to pool at his tip as you continued to stroke him in long hard pulls.

You felt one of Bucky’s hands run through your hair. You knew they were callused and rough, like he’d had a difficult life and worked twice as hard for everything he had. But it suited him and even though they were rough, his hands were warm brought tingles to your nerves whenever he made contact with you. Bucky loved your hair. He especially loved it in times like these were he would grab some and watching it slip through his fingers when he released it.

He was brought back to the present when he heard himself make a low grunting sound and watched the creamy white fluid slide down his shaft as it ran along the ridges, oh so slowly. With a smile, you flattened your tongue and began to suck on his cock like a candy cane. Each movement of your mouth edged him on until he gripped your hair harsher than before and humped your mouth with a purpose. Each thrust was harder than the last until he slammed into you and Bucky swore you made the sweetest sound he ever heard. He finally let go of your hair and pulled away from you, shivering slightly as his cock felt the cool air instead of being inside its warm home.

You were about to say something but stopped when Bucky growled and took control of the situation. He tossed the papers that were sprawled out on his desk aside, not caring if they got crumpled or ripped and ignored the several that fluttered to the floor. That was problem for the future, right now he needed you. You yelped when Bucky dramatically pulled down your skirt, leaving you standing there in nothing but your shirt and panties. Bucky’s eyes slowly raked down your body, drinking you in. With a huff from Bucky and a squeal from you, he lifted you onto his desk, your legs open for him to stand between. A deep curve on her lips makes Bucky stop anything he’s doing. It’s the smile that brings back a million memories in a split second. It was infectious and calming. Soon he felt the calmness pass through him like a warm ocean wave, washing away the stress of the day. They say eyes are the gateway to the soul, and that was true but for Bucky, the lips were the same thing for the body. He pressed his mouth to yours, really feeling the softness, passion and the promise of the sweetness to come.

Dizzy with exaltation, you raised your arms, helping him pull your shirt off. Bucky licked his lips at the sight of your breasts practically spilling out of your bra. He unhooked your bra masterfully and his mouth immediately went to your tight, perky nipples. He sucked them into his mouth just as you had done to him only minutes ago. You mewled and moaned as your fingers slipped through his hair, tugging and pulling him closer to you. He pushed you back until you were completely laid out on the desk before he crawled over you, his hands ran down the length of your body and dipped under the seams of your panties. You and Bucky simultaneously groaned at the feeling of his fingers moving in and out of your wet pussy. His mouth latched onto your nipple and growled.

“Such a wet little slut for me, huh baby?”

“Mm, yes,” you moaned with your eyes closed.

“Yes, what?” He demanded. You opened your eyes and looked into his dark lust clouded ones and responded, “yes, professor.” Bucky’s cock throbbed even more at the sound of your innocent voice that begged for him.

“Is that so? My baby girl needs my cock.”

“Yes, Bucky.” He pushed his fingers deeper inside of you and in a low husky voice he asked, “yes, what?”

“Yes, Professor!” Your hips swivelled around in a tantric dance while Bucky watched with a smirk as you humped his fingers. The pace he had set picked up and you squealed and spread your legs wider for him. He finally had enough with the material blocking him, so in one swift sweep, he grabbed the seam of your panties and ripped them off with a growl. There was nothing more bewitching than seeing your naked form. Your pretty pink slit glistened for his attention, something he was going to deny you of. He bent down and ran his tongue along the opening and made sure he memorised the taste of you. Once again he climber over your body, his large hands were placed on either side of your shoulders while your own hands running up and down his arms before clamping around his biceps when his cock slid through your swollen folds.

“Fuck,” you moaned loudly. And when his muscles tensed up, your fingernails digging deeper into his skin, leaving crescents in their place. You knew you sounded desperate when you whimpered and sobbed as your hips continued to swivel, but Bucky loved it. He was on the edge and he loved teasing you.

“Feel that hard cock, baby girl?”

“Yes.” Bucky shifted all his weight onto one hand as the other slightly cupped your chin and pulled it upwards. His lips coming dangerously close to yours.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Professor!” You screamed out, “please give it to me.” He let go of your chin and steadied himself once again.

“That’s it baby, rub that tight little pussy on me,” Bucky moaned as he slid the tip of his cock in your entrance. “Fuck! No wonder you’re so needy. You need my big cock spreading these tight lips.” He teased your entrance more, sliding his thick mushroomed head in and completely out causing you to whine needingly and you could feel your legs begin to shake. Bucky only smirked knowingly. He was hitting your sweet spot with the rim of his head and your pussy was contracting so sweetly around it.

Bucky grunted and looked down at you, it was your hands that had the tight grip on the edges of the desk, a sight he would definitely remember next time he was teaching. Your breasts jiggled as you tried to slide yourself further down his cock. Every time you slid down, he would slide out until you were wiggling in desperation and begging him.

“Just put in me, please” you whined, adding “professor” to the end. At that, Bucky growled and perched himself above you, watching his dick sink into you.

“Oh, fuck!” You groaned, arching your back at the feeling of Bucky’s cock splitting your pussy open. He felt your cunt spasm around him as his heavy sack rammed right up against your puckered asshole.

Your hands cupped Bucky’s face, pulling him foreword. A small lock of hair tumbled in front of his face, resting just in front of his cheek, but with one swift slide of your thumb, it was brushed out of the way. Looking into his eyes, you saw the pools of blue that displayed his soul. Suddenly you felt his lips touch your cheek your heart that had been pulsing wildly came to a halt. Your breath caught in your throat. A small grin crept onto your face. Bucky pulled away silently, but still locked eyes with yours almost as if having a private conversation of their own. Bucky had told you once that a simple peck can convey as much meaning as a full-on kiss, simple though it may be, a kiss on the cheek is special in its own, unique way.

Bucky slowly started to drag his cock out and glide it right back in, your pussy eagerly swallowing him up.

“Fuck baby,” he said in the hushed silence that enveloped you.

“Harder Professor, harder,” you replied causing the tension in the room to shift. Bucky sat up as much as he could and forced your legs up and back against your chest. He started to fuck you harder, his balls smacking against your ass

“Unngh, fuuuck!” Your pussy was making the naughtiest, juiciest sounds as it slurped up his cock.

“This pussy is all mine. So fuckin’ perfect.” His gaze was filled with raw hunger.

“All yours sir!” You cried out as he slapped your tits, your pussy squeezing around him. Bucky dipped his head and closed his mouth over one of your nipples, soothing the sting.

“Gonna take what’s mine.” He gripped your wrists and pinned them above you, his broad chest skimming your breasts and igniting your whole being.

“Yours! All yours!” You screamed as your orgasm tore through you. Your sweet body lifting up from the desk, the sweat causing more resistance than normal, your curves rippling as your hips danced wildly on his cock. Bucky continued to pump into you and he could feel himself twitch with anticipation. His dick swelled up so thick you cried out even more at the feeling. Your shudders ran through your body as your pussy pulsed around his cock. All of Bucky’s muscles tensed as his thrusts got faster and harder and on that last thrust he groaned, emptying inside of you, load after load which he reckoned was the hardest and longest cumload he’d ever spurted. Bucky collapsed on top of you and you giggled, his cock still buried deep inside.

“Was that what you were talking about?” You asked once your breathing returned to normal, stroking your fingers through his hair.

“Oh god, yes.” He leaned down to kiss you and looked up at his wife. “Did you like it?” You grinned in response, “it’s a lot more fun in an actual classroom than at home.” Bucky hummed and pecked your lips before pulling out and helping you sit up.

“Do you think the others noticed the new classmate?” He asked as he began to dress himself.

“I think they were too focussed on this,” you replied, giving his sock a soft squeeze before helping him tuck it in his pants.

“That obvious?” His face scrunched up in worry.

“Absolutely,” you laughed. Bucky smiled as he watched you fumble around your clothes.

“By the way,” you said and he made a noncommittal sound, “you destroyed my underwear, so I’ll be going out without panties, Professor Barnes,”

His eyes darkened slightly but he couldn’t help but laugh once you began as you started to walk passed him towards the door.

“Easier for me when we get home, Mrs. Barnes,” he said, giving you an affectionate slap on the ass.   

tags: @sebashtiansatan @dewy-biitch @denialanderror @floatingpetals @softhairbarnes @just-add-butter @deartomhardy @moonstruckhargrove @sugalight @before-you-label-me @thesaltyduchess @nedthegay @bluesprees @girl-next-door-writes @thefridgeismybestie @sebbysimblr @extremeobsessions101 @fernfranklin @wwhitewwolff @sebastian-stan-is-great @keldachick @oberyners @chinalois

THIS SUCKS??????

[multisfabulis]

The Road to Forgiveness Be Damned

Redemption for a Blameless Sin (Chapter 3/7)

Word Count: 7525

TW: Depiction of PTSD flashback, mention of childhood abuse, self harm, body/eye horror, suicide, depiction of euthanasia

In the midst of a depressing two months, I finally finished this chapter! This might be the longest chapter I have for this series and that’s because A LOT of stuff goes down here. Going by the amount of trigger warnings above, this is also the darkest chapter I have, which is an emotional rollercoaster, to say the least.

I’ve done my best in giving the topics present in this the respect they deserve but I wouldn’t be surprised if I still screwed up somewhere. I mean no offense by what I wrote and I can only promise to be better if/when I explore these topics again.

Read on AO3 | Read on DA

     A yawn escaped from Ven’s mouth as she brushed her hair. She spent a good chunk of last night reading her mother’s journal. The small glimpses into her life made her want to continue reading, no matter how drowsy she got. She was only able to push through the first few pages before she stopped for the night. Today was too important to risk screwing up on.

     She and Ferreth would soon set off for the swamp to slay their quarry. Although they had no concrete plan as of now, the groundwork was at least there. Step one: kill the creature, step two: inform Filaurel of the deed, and step three: reap in the reward. Third step was still up in the air, however.

     As she finished pulling her hair back into the usual ponytail, Ferreth asked her, “How was your reading last night?”

     “It was…” she paused, searching for the right word to use, “interesting, to say the least.”

     “Not what you expected?”

     “You… could say that.”

     She then described some of what she had read through. While some of the entries were typical for someone of Thessalia’s age, others were more… suggestive. It wasn’t till the 3rd or 4th entry of that kind she realized her mother was a woman who avoided commitment like it was the plague. Nothing wrong with that, it just didn’t fit the image she had of her.

     “While it’s a little awkward to read--” she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear-- “it still lets me know who my mother was back then.”

     “Hey, whatever works, right?”

     “Mm-hmm.”

     They left the house in a moment’s time. Everything was about the same as usual as they walked towards the outskirts. It seemed to be quieter today, a small difference compared to the day before. This was more of the Thal Esari she experienced from her childhood, remembering how she used to be out more when it was quiet. It felt strangely nostalgic, something she never thought she’d miss.

     A crack from nearby seized her heart. It was something she was terribly familiar with and it sounded just as awful as it did way back when. Her stomach roiled as she tried to fight the urge to vomit.

     Her past and present were beginning to blur together into a kind of mismatched “reality”. Tall, dark figures flickered in and out of her vision, surrounding her for one second and then disappearing the next. Her throat felt seemingly sore from the imaginary cries for help she knew would fall on deaf ears. Blistering heat flared up all across her back from both the lashings and the dirt stinging the open wounds. She fell to the ground, clutching her chest, as tears filled her eyes.

     She needed to do something, anything, to ground herself back to reality. It didn’t matter what but it had to be now. She took out the knife she kept hidden away in her cloak and sliced her left hand open.

     It easily cut through the fabric of her glove as well as the skin on her palm. Good thing she sharpened it before coming here. Scarlet blood bled from her wound, though the black cloth of her glove did well to disguise it. She then opened and closed her hand tightly several times in an attempt to magnify the pain.

     You’re okay, she kept repeating to herself. You’re not a little kid anymore. There’s nothing they can do to hurt you. Ferret wouldn’t dare let anyone hurt you again. Breathe in, then breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

     The nausea she felt soon settled and her breathing steadied itself. The figures her mind conjured up vanished like the illusions they were. Her voice no longer felt like it was stuck, hearing her breaths come out clearly. The burning sensation across the span of her back was absent yet her scars still ached. Despite the dulling pain in her hand, she was okay. She was safe.

     Crouched down next to her, Ferreth asked her worriedly, “Ven, you okay? You need somewhere quiet?”

     “I’m fine,” she replied, her voice hoarse, “I just got a little sick, is all.”

     “...Come on, let’s get out of here.”

     Upon helping her up, he kept an arm around her waist to have her lean on him as they walked through the gates. Her legs felt weak as her head spun so she appreciated him acting as a wall of sorts for her. Those attacks always left her feeling like she had been put through the wringer after they passed.

     He sat her down in the shade of a nearby tree and gave her some water to drink. It flowed down her throat with ease, cooling her insides. She felt her dizziness lighten some as she wiped away the beads of sweat that formed on her forehead.

     “You all right?” he asked.

     “Yeah, I’m just…” She let out a small breath. “A little dizzy, that’s all.”

     “You sure? You haven’t gone down like that in a while, you know,” he said while brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face.

     “Ferret.” She gave him a small smile. “I’m okay.”

     It was hard to convince him of that once his worry set in but he let the matter go. She sometimes felt lucky to have someone show as much concern as he did for her, whether it be over protecting her from enemy attacks or helping her recover from flashbacks like earlier. She was truly blessed to have him in her life.

     Looking as if he realized something, he said, “Ven, let me see your hand.”

     She almost forgot about the open wound on her hand. As she held it out to him, she could see blood still seeping into her glove. She had no idea how deep her cut was or how hard she slashed with her knife.

     Taking off her glove, he grimaced and said, “Yeesh, you cut a little too deep for my liking. Nothing a roll of bandages won’t fix, though.”

     He took out a fresh white roll of bandages and began wrapping her hand up. As she watched him work, a pang of regret struck her heart. Even if she felt lucky to have him worry over her, it didn’t stop the guilt from gnawing away at her. None of this would be happening if she didn’t break down at the crack of a whip every time she heard one.

     “Hey, Ferret?” Her eyes fell down to the ground. “Sorry for always making you do this.”

     “Do what? Take care of you like the friend I am?” he asked.

     “You shouldn’t have to take care of me. Having to look after me every time I get lost in my memories isn’t fair to you. You do all these nice, wonderful things for me and I do nothing but be a burden to you. It just isn’t fair.”

     “Ohh, believe me--” She felt him let go of her hand-- “you do so much more for me than I think you’ll ever know.”

     She looked up to see him before her with an outstretched hand. He had the warmest smile gracing his face and a gleam of love in his eyes. She didn’t deserve to have such things directed towards her.

     “You’re not a burden to me, Ven. Despite what you may think, I take care of you because I want to, not because I feel like I have to. I know you’d be saying the same thing to me so no more feeling like you’re a burden, okay?”

     She wanted so desperately to believe him when he said that. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe he meant every word of it. It was just so much easier to keep everything inside and not bother anyone with her troubles. They had better things to do with their time than sit and listen to her vent. After all, she had been told that no one would care about the struggles of an insignificant Vlixeox all her life. Why annoy someone when she knew she didn’t matter to them?

     Still, it wouldn’t be fair to Ferreth if she didn’t give him a chance. She couldn’t promise him anything but she could at least try. It was the least she could do after subjecting him to one of her flashbacks again.

     Placing her hand in his, she smiled and said, “I’ll try not to be.”

     A wave of exhaustion suddenly washed over her after he helped her up. She was always left feeling drained whenever everything settled down. All she wanted to do was lay in a nice, soft bed and sleep the day away. However, there was something far more important she needed to do first.

     As she started walking towards where the swamp was, Ferreth ran up next to her and asked, “Ven, are you sure you don’t wanna wait till tomorrow to do this? I mean, you just had another attack so…”

     “It’ll be fine,” she replied. “It’s not like being tired has stopped me before.”

     “Yeah, but still…”

     “Ferret, you know this’ll only end in one of two ways. You’ll either have to carry me back, kicking and screaming, or we can continue on our merry way. Which will it be?”

     That came out harsher than she wanted it to but it needed to be said. They had a mission to accomplish on a time limit. She didn’t want precious time to be wasted on her mental state when it could be used for more pressing matters. Once this was done, then she could finally relax.

     He let out a sigh and said, “Fine, but I’m only letting you have your way because I know you’re too stubborn to accept a no.”

     He really knew how to make her feel guilty sometimes. Whether or not he did it on purpose, she didn’t know. She figured, once their mission was done, she’d apologize and make it up to him. After all, she was forcing him to go against his better judgment by letting her continue on, despite the emotional ordeal she just went through. It’d only be fair.

     Past the field of tall grass, they finally reached the dark forest. She was quick to notice the many peculiarities this place had. The trees had pieces of bark missing from them, the sizes anywhere from small lumps to large slabs. Leaves the color of decaying brown were preventing sunlight from filtering through its dense yet frail canopy. The patches of grass that sprouted up had no color to them.

     The forest looked as if something was slowly sucking the life away from it. Whatever it was, she knew it had to be an unnatural force. If drastic measures weren’t taken right away, the forest would eventually die.

     Still, it was something she couldn’t concern herself with. They didn’t come here to investigate why the forest was slowly dying. They came here to hunt down an animal that could potentially pose a threat to the people of Thal Esari and kill it. After that, they’d report back to Filaurel and turn their backs on this place. Whatever was going on with this forest, it wasn’t their problem to deal with.

     Gathering her resolve, she let out a determined breath and said, “Let’s go.”

     “Wait.” He grabbed her wrist to stop her from going in. “What’s the plan?”

     “We go in, find it, kill it, and report back to Lady Filaurel,” she replied matter-of-factly.

     “You can’t be serious.”

     “Do you have a better idea in mind?”

     He gave her a confident smile. “When do I not?”

     The plan he came up with was leagues better than her own. They were to split up so as to cover more ground and search for tracks. Since they were assuming their quarry to be of an unusual nature, they needed to be on the lookout for anything conveying that. If one of them found tracks, they’d signal the other via bird calls. Good thing there were barely, if any, birds around. Then it was just a matter of following them till they led to their target. If luck was on their side today, they could kill it quickly and inform Filaurel of the deed by the end of the day.

     Before they went in, he stopped her again, holding her hand in his. “What is it?”

     “...Be careful, okay? Don’t get reckless and think you can take it on by yourself. Just send me the signal if you find anything and I’ll come running.”

     “I will.” She squeezed his hand to comfort him. “You be careful, too, you hear?”

     He gave her an affirmative nod and let go of her hand. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lied ahead. This was it, the only thing standing between her and the forgiveness she yearned for was their quarry. Once it was taken care of, they’d come back to Thal Esari, deliver the news of its death to Filaurel, and she’ll have earned her reward. It’ll be enough for her to maybe, finally, begin to forgive herself.

     Only one path left to take. Another deep breath to calm her nerves and then she set off towards the right side of the forest. She heard footsteps opposite from her direction, indicating Ferreth to have taken the left side. Let luck be on our side today, she silently prayed.

     Walking through the forest felt eerie. What should be vibrant greens were dull grays, furthering her suspicion that this place was dying. The only sound she heard was her own footsteps, no bugs or birds seemingly around for miles. She kept an eye and ear out in case she found the remnants of her prey traipsing about.

     As she wandered further in, she began to hear voices. They were indistinct whispers so she couldn’t make them out, no matter how hard she strained her ears. It was difficult to tell whether she was imagining them because of the creepy atmosphere or if they really were there. Either way, a pit started to grow in her stomach.

     Then came the shadows. She’d catch something darting out from the corners of her eyes every so often, only for there to be nothing when she turned to see. It didn’t help that she could barely make out anything within the darkness of the forest. Maybe it was her exhaustion from earlier causing her mind to play tricks on her, she figured. It did nothing to stop the pit from growing.

     She spotted a break in the darkness several feet ahead of her. Getting closer, she saw it was a ray of sunlight illuminating what appeared to be a drop-off. Whether it led to a cliff or a steep hill, she couldn’t tell from this distance. She crouched down and crept toward it as stealthily as possible.

     Coming up on the drop-off revealed several things. First, the drop-off itself was part of a hill that led to the swamp’s empty yet otherwise clean shore. Secondly, the swamp didn’t appear to be stricken with whatever curse was placed on the forest. Thirdly, she could hear bugs chirping and toads croaking from the swamp just ahead, wondrous sounds that may as well have been music to her ears. Lastly, she finally found what she was looking for.

     A very large print of some kind was impressed deeply into the ground. The print, upon closer inspection, looked to be of a hand, albeit deformed. She could recognize each finger and the thumb but there were also other finger-like appendages attached to them. Whatever left this handprint here had the condition she’d seen on some people where they had more than five fingers on their hands but in a more extreme fashion. The size of the handprint was easily twice the size of her hand by comparison.

     On both sides of the handprint were large puddles. She took a glove off and dipped her fingers into one of the puddles to see what it was. Her heart skipped a beat as she gasped. It wasn’t the fact that she was touching slobber left over from where her quarry was standing or that it felt gross and slimy that made her quickly pull her hand away. It was the warmth and realization of what that warmth meant.

     She heard a twig snap behind her and she whirled around. All she could see was a massive silhouette and many pairs of eyes glaring at her. The eyes were blue, green, brown, hazel, gray and she thought she saw two irises and pupils inside each socket. It snarled and growled with such ferocity, her heart sank down into her stomach. Guess she found her target.

     No sudden movements, she repeated to herself as she slowly moved her arm up to grab the end of her glaive. Even though she followed her mantra down to a T, it wasn’t enough. The creature charged at her, its gallops pounding against the ground. She stumbled back in shock, forgetting about the sudden drop-off.

     Her foot found no ground and she let out a scream. Pain scattered throughout her body as she fell down the steep hill. Sticks and rocks jabbed and cut her while leaves stuck to her like glue. She soon reached the end, groaning as she glanced down to inspect the damage.

     Blood and dirt were smeared over the bare patches of skin. Her stockings had several small tears in them, no doubt from the sticks that broke during her tumble. Her body felt sore while the cuts she sustained stung. She probably had a ton of scrapes and bruises all over her body that she couldn’t see. In the end, though, she was glad she wasn’t seriously injured after a fall like that.

     A ghastly roar from above sent chills down her spine. She looked up just in time to see the creature leap off the drop-off and land in front of her. With it now out in the sunlight, she could see what it really was.

     It was big, easily bigger than Ferreth, which scared her. It had a wild mane of tangled dark hair limply hanging on either side of its equine-like face. Thin, milky white skin covered its whole body except for the legs, which appeared to be rotting and she could see maggots feasting on dead flesh. Jagged discolored teeth protruded out its bottom jaw as thick drool dripped onto the ground. The many pairs of eyes that glared at her in hatred filled her with a dread she didn’t understand as she realized something. Why did those eyes look so familiar?

     She didn’t have time to think about that as the creature suddenly lunged a clawed hand at her. The claws were little more than bones sharpened to a point. She quickly drew up a wall of darkness to try and block the attack. Its claws tore through it like paper and she went flying right to a tree. A strangled groan came out as her back slammed into the trunk and she fell onto the ground.

     Another roar was let loose as she struggled to get up. Her back ached and she found it hard to breathe but she needed to move. This thing could attack her again at any moment and it was out for blood.

     Sure enough, the creature leapt towards her, claws outstretched and mouth agape. She side-stepped out of the way just in time to avoid being pinned down. It shot her a heated glance and growled, its upper lip curling to reveal sharp fangs. She wasted no time in getting the hell outta there.

     She ran as far as her legs could carry her. She needed to be a good distance away from this thing before she could even think about taking it down. The sheer power it had to tear through her defenses so easily proved to her it wasn’t to be underestimated. Her style of fighting wouldn’t work here, it’d be too risky. How would she be able to fight it if she couldn’t touch it, she realized.

     Well, she still had her trump card but… She didn’t feel comfortable using her power for combat. It was one thing to use it casually and for assistance in battles but it was a whole other matter to use it to fight. Just the thought of using her power with the intent to hurt her enemy made her feel uneasy, regardless of whether or not they deserved it. She may have full control over it now but the chance she’d do more harm than good was still too great. She’ll just have to make do with her glaive and improvise. She could do that, no problem.

     “Crap!”

     She skidded to a halt upon seeing the swamp’s shoreline fast approaching. Willow trees were scattered all across the swamp, some having roots that emerged from underwater. The water itself was black, though she couldn’t tell if it was naturally murky or if something else was causing it to be like that. Green lilypads and moss were the only bright colors in an otherwise dreary place. However, she didn’t stop to take in the scenery. With how dark the water was, there was no way to tell how deep it went. This was a problem for her because of her inability to swim.

     A roar came from behind her and she turned to face it. The creature caught up to her, its teeth bared and ready to tear her apart. Now she was really stuck between a rock and a hard place.

     The only thing left to do was fight. She still didn’t know how or even if she could touch it without getting torn to shreds but she’d figure it out. She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves as she stared into its eyes dead-on. They looked so familiar yet she couldn’t remember where she had seen them before. No matter, it’d be dead soon, anyway.

     The creature charged towards her, giving her a split second to react. Just as it’s about to ram her, she jumped up. She pressed a hand onto its head as if it were a vault and twisted her body. She was able to mount it with relative ease, the ache in her wrist notwithstanding.

     It began to buck to throw her off as she tried to tangle her hands in its mane. Each time she’d grab on to a dark lock, it’d fall out into her hand. It was only when she did this several times that she noticed curdled, black sludge seeping out from the missing patches of hair. That and the constant feeling of cold slime moving in-between her legs disgusted her.

     If she couldn’t get a good grip on it, there was always another option. She took out the knife from earlier, still stained in her blood, and plunged it deep in the space between its shoulders. Black sludge, which she now believed to be the creature’s blood, trickled out from the wound.

     It howled in pain, multiple voices screaming over each other. Another wave of chills went down her spine as the creature galloped further into the swamp. Now it was imperative she hold on to the knife for dear life, lest she fall into the water and drown. It reared back and she felt the blade cut through its back. What she saw inside the open wound made her heart stop.

     A rotting face rose up out of decaying flesh. Its skin was tanned and leathery, stretched taut over facial bones. Empty holes for eyes, no nose, thin, chapped lips, and sunken cheeks were all she could discern from it. The face opened its mouth and started to scream in a high pitched voice. This caused the creature to cease its bucking as she felt shifting skin between her legs.

     She looked down to see large tumors bulging out its body. Its thin skin tore apart to reveal six other faces, all in differing states of decay. They were in the same shape as the one in its back was, except with black blood spilling out of every orifice available. Screams erupted from their mouths as well and the pungent odor of death was present in the air.

     It was then she realized just what this creature was. Images of blood and dead bodies flashed through her mind as devastating despair filled her heart. She didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to accept it, but it was there. The reason why those eyes looked so familiar was because…

     “No, it can’t be… Seldanna?” The face inside the creature’s back fell silent as she turned to look at the others. “Leena, Aila, Travaran… Braern, Vaeril, and Rathal… You’re… the ones I killed?”

     Crying replaced screaming at the mention of their names. Voices of children and adults begging for help rang in her head. Tears slid down her cheeks as the voices grew louder and louder.

     Why were they here? Why were they dead? They didn’t deserve to die! Out of all the people that could’ve died that day, why was it them?! Why were they the ones that died and not…?! If only she could remember, if only she could’ve controlled herself back then, if only she…!

     The creature bucked again and she was thrown several feet away. It wasn’t till she found herself unable to breathe she realized she was underwater. She had to fight the urge to attempt to swim back up. Her lungs burned from the lack of air but she could care less about that.

     Did she really deserve to live? Did she really have the right to live after killing innocent people? Maybe it’d be better if she just died. It’d give both her victims and the lives she irrevocably destroyed some form of closure. She deserved to die a long, painful death as retribution for all the pain she caused. All she’d have to do is sink to the bottom, let out her final breath, and…

     She sensed a presence beside her, not knowing who or what it was. Hands cupped her cheeks and she felt pressure on her lips. Her lungs filled with air as an arm wrapped around her waist began pulling her up. She didn’t need to see to know who it was once they broke the surface.

     “Ven, you all right?” Ferreth asked.

     She couldn’t find it within herself to care about giving him an answer. She didn’t want to say anything, do anything. All she wanted to do was crawl into a ditch and let herself wither away until she died. Noting her lack of a response, he began swimming them back to land. He apologized for not coming sooner before explaining how he stopped the creature’s pursuit of her with an uppercut by way of earthen wall. He didn’t know how far it went but he hoped the distance would give them enough time to make it back to shore. His words went in one ear and out the other.

     It wasn’t till they were on land a distant roar could be heard. Her stomach roiled once more, knowing what that meant. He muttered something she didn’t catch and hauled her over his shoulder to run. Fresh, silent tears trailed behind them as they made their escape.

     He ran back the way she came, even climbing the hill she tumbled down with help from his powers to make it relatively easy. The whispers from before returned, louder and louder till they filled her head with incomprehensible murmurs. They served to make the dark thoughts swirling around stand out among everything else. The urge to grab her knife and stab herself with it grew.

     A piercing scream tore through the midday sky as they settled into a small glade. She recognized it as Aila’s. Images of her small, mangled body flooded her mind and she wanted to throw up at the sight of it. She didn’t even want to think about how the others looked when she…

     “Okay, I think we’ve lost that son of a bitch for now,” he said, checking behind him before letting out a weary sigh. “Holy shit, though, that thing is pissed.”

     “It’s my fault…” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself, “it’s my fault they’re like this.”

     “What do you mean it’s your fault and who’s they?”

     “They’re the people I killed, don’t you get it?!” Tears streamed down her face. She couldn’t be bothered to give a damn about how loud her outburst was. “Seldanna, Leena, Aila, Travaran, Braern, Vaeril, Rathal…It’s because of me they’re dead!”

     “Ven, it was an accident. It wasn’t your---”

     “It doesn’t matter! I killed them and nothing will ever change that!” She shuddered as she let out another sob. “God, I just wanted to prove to everyone I wasn’t a monster…”

     All her life, she had been told she was a monster because of her existence as a Vlixeox. No matter how well she behaved, no matter how she tried to stay out of their way, it never changed. Her crime only solidified their view of her. She thought that, by atoning for her sin, she’d finally show everyone she wasn’t what they believed her to be. Now, even hell would be too good for a monster like her.

     Hands were on her cheeks, wiping away the tears that fell. It was comforting and she wanted so badly to lean into it. But she didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve the love and care he’s treated her with, especially now. How could he still want to stay with her after everything that’s happened?

     “Ven.” She didn’t want to look at him. What emotion his eyes held, she was too scared to see. “I want you to listen to me. I know that whatever I say, you may not believe me or even deny it but… I mean every word of what I say next to you. All I ask is for you to hear me out for a little bit, okay?

     “It was not your fault. You were just a scared kid who didn’t want to get hurt. I know you didn’t mean to hurt them, much less kill them. It was just a tragic accident. I know that doesn’t change the fact that they’re… dead but it also doesn’t change the fact that you were protecting yourself from the people that were hurting you. They can twist what happened back then to suit what they want to believe but only you know the truth, even if you can’t remember it all.

     “You’ve paid more than enough for this. You’re not a monster, Ven. I know it, everyone back home knows it. I just wish you’d know it, too.” He stroked her cheek as another tear fell.

     “What if you’re wrong?” She finally worked up the courage to look him in the eyes. “What if I am one?”

     “You’re not.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Even so, I won’t stop trying to convince you you’re not a monster till you believe it. I don’t care if it takes me a lifetime to do it. This, I promise to you.”

     She laid her hands on his as she cried softly. How could a monster like her be blessed with someone as wonderful as him? She’s done nothing to deserve such kindness and love from him yet he still lavishes her with it. He truly is someone she feels so, so happy to have in her life.

     Pulling away, she began to say, “Hey, Ferret, I---”

     A familiar roar cut her off, echoing through the trees. The creature’s monstrous body suddenly appeared behind Ferreth, ready to strike. She summoned a mass of darkness to quickly push him out of the way of the incoming attack. Just as he was shoved into safety did its bony hand snatch her up. It slammed her into the ground and the little breaths she had came out in a choke.

     Fear seized her heart as its many eyes glared down at her. No, she couldn’t be terrified of it now. While she didn’t know how this amalgamation came to exist, she knew the people making it up needed to move on. This state of being, seven vengeful, scared entities seemingly trapped in a single deteriorating body for god knows how long, was no way to live.

     “Why did you do this to us?” A legion of voices asked, though one in particular spoke above the rest.

     “Trav…aran…” She squeezed the reply out as it slowly tightened its grip on her. “I know that… nothing I say will… mean anything but…”

     She managed to keep it distracted while she sent a tendril of darkness to retrieve the knife that was still embedded in its back. The knife came out easily enough and the creature was none the wiser. She then willed the tendril to stab the blade into the fleshy part of the hand that held her.

     It screamed in pain as it was forced to let her go. She took several breaths of air, thankful she wasn’t being crushed to death. Afterwards, she stood up and trained her glaive on the creature, now growling in retaliation.

     “I’m sorry for killing you once,” she said, struggling to keep her voice steady, “and I’m sorry to have to do it again to end your suffering.”

     Her eyes wandered over to where Ferreth was. Claws and scales replaced fingers and skin on his arms and slitted eyes met her gaze. That meant he was raring to fight, something she couldn’t let happen at any cost. This was her responsibility and she wasn’t about to let him take care of it for her. This was something she needed to do.

     “Ferret.” She spoke slowly and tried not to make any sudden moves. “I’m gonna need your help with something. As soon as I’m done talking, I’m going to bolt back to the swamp in the hopes this thing will follow me. Give it some time and then follow us back so you can restrain them with your power. Do you understand?”

     “Y-yeah, but---”

     She didn’t give him time to respond as she suddenly darted to the right. The creature missed its swipe at her and she dashed past it. It gave a roar before following after her, its heavy footfalls thudding behind her.

     A glance every so often confirmed her theory that its only target was her. Any obstacle in its way would be rendered a casualty, be it people or objects. If Ferreth did as he was told, its only concern should be the girl running away from it.

     She reached the drop-off once more. Remembering what happened last time she came to this spot, she skidded to a stop and quickly looked around. No way could she try and jump off, it’d be too risky at this height. She found a sturdy-looking branch growing out of a willow tree ahead of her. It didn’t seem reliable but it was the best she had. Darkness coiled around the branch and she leapt from the drop-off while holding onto the makeshift vine.

     It didn’t take long for the branch to snap from her weight. She landed on her side roughly, her hip flaring up in pain. She was just barely given enough time to react when the creature pounced on her.

     With teeth bared for her to see, it lunged. She stuck her glaive in its mouth in an attempt to stop it from biting into her. Warm spit slid down the metal to her arms as she tried to keep her weapon inside its maw. There was no way for her to escape without risking the possibility of getting slashed by its claws. Still, if she had to, the risk would be more than worth it.

     Then it was forcibly dragged away from her. Its claws raked through the dirt on either side of her as it struggled to stay. She crawled out from under it to see Ferreth curling hardened dirt like a corkscrew around its torso. Dirt and dust caked his scaled arms and sprinkled off the extended limbs of earth as it thrashed around. Thank god for his intervention…

     “Ven, you all right?” he asked loudly so he could be heard over the creature’s roaring.

     Standing up, she replied, “I’m holding up! Listen, when I tell you to, let it go.”

     “Are you crazy?! This thing wants to kill you!”

     “I know but it won’t come down to that. I just need to talk with them.”

     “What if it kills you after I let it go?! I don’t want you to die!”

     “I’ll be okay, Ferreth!”

     He closed his eyes tightly, brows knitted in worry and mouth clenched. She knew that the very idea of gambling with her life is something he never wants to consider. Still, he needed to believe in her, if only just for this one thing. After a moment, their eyes locked and she knew she had his trust.

     She walked over to it, a mixture of sadness, guilt, and grim acceptance filling her heart. As she stood in front of the beast, it roared and lashed out in fury. Yet she did nothing, letting it vent its rage at her. Its eyes burned with contempt while the voices shifted between cursing her existence and crying out for a savior.

     Soon, it tired itself out. Although it no longer tried to attack her, it still growled at her when she moved closer to it. She looked into its eyes in pity, struggling to keep the tears at bay.

     She placed a gentle hand on the bridge of its nose. Nothing she could say to them would change what happened. She dealt them a cruel fate, regardless of it ultimately being an accident. She’d do anything to rewind the clock and prevent the senseless tragedy that occurred but… That was then and this is now.

     Stroking it in a soothing manner, she said, “I know that what I did to you all can never be taken back… and for that, I’m truly sorry.

     “No words can come close to describing just how sorry I am. I don’t expect any of you to accept my apology and that’s okay. All I can say is, none of you deserved to die and you especially don’t deserve to be trapped in the suffering you’re all in. It should be the other way around but… life’s unfair at times.”

     The growls stopped and the voices fell quiet. What was once malice was now sorrow as eyes stared at the girl who spoke in bittersweet comfort. She couldn’t begin to imagine how they felt but she wanted to believe they shared just an inkling of the sadness there was at the whole situation.

     “Ferret, let them go. I think they’re okay now.”

     He dropped his arms and the dirt around its body crumbled away. A small part of her expected them to maul her right then and there after luring her into a false sense of security. They didn’t. Instead, they laid down in front of her, their eyes solemnly closed. She continued to stroke its face all the while.

     “You all were so kind to me back then. I didn’t understand the ways some of you had shown that at the time but I want you to know that I truly, truly appreciated it. I can only repay that with an act of kindness of my own and it’s the only thing I can give you all. It’s more like an act of mercy but still…”

     A bitter laugh escaped from her mouth as tears slid down her cheeks. Even though what she was about to do next was right, she wished it didn’t have to be like this. If only there was some other way to do it but it wasn’t meant to be. She held them close, knowing this will be the last time she’ll ever see them again. Her heart ached yet she remained calm as she stepped away from them.

     “May the afterlife give you a better beginning than the grisly end I forced you to meet.”

     They bowed their head in resignation, waiting to meet their fate. Darkness wrapped around their neck before suddenly twisting to the side. Their neck snapped with a sickening crack and their body fell forward. Whatever strange power brought about their revival was gone as they withered away to dust.

     It was only when a few specks were left she heard them. Two words that were spoken in an almost mournful tone. Words from the people she’d never see again till it was her time.

     “We’re sorry.”

     A gentle breeze carried the specks of dust high up into the sky until they were no longer visible. That was it. It was over. She’d cry if she had more tears to shed but she didn’t. She felt empty, hollow. Yet she also felt as if a great weight was lifted from her shoulders. Maybe it was because she faced a terrible truth head-on instead of running away or something within her finally felt settled in some way. She didn’t know which it was.

     Her mind felt hazy. The figure of Ferreth blurred in her vision, sounds faded into the background, and her movements seemed to be half a second slow. A muffled voice was the last thing she heard before her descent into darkness.

[violetsmoak]

Appetence [2/?]

AO3 Link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/20251420/chapters/47997634

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: Red Robin is investigating the disappearance of a friend and stumbles into a spot of supernatural trouble. He doesn’t expect to be saved by Jason Todd, miraculously alive five years after his death and now with the inexplicable ability to commune with the dead. Meanwhile, when Jason returned to Gotham he meant to maintain a low profile and not get involved with Bat business. That was before he found out how hot his Replacement is.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: N/A

First Chapter

Canon-Compliance: Alternate Universe; Jason still died but was not found by Talia when he was resurrected. All other events mostly follow the same chronology as New Earth continuity, with mentions made to events in New 52

Author’s Note(s): Enter Tim. And Tim's investigation. And Tim's tendency to make bad decisions.

Beta Reader: I’ll get back to you on that.

________________________________________________________________

Red Robin crouches on a rooftop in the Bowery, watching the thief he was just interrogating scramble from the alley. He was a bit harsher than usual tonight—the full ‘hang ‘em by the feet’ routine that’s more Batman’s thing than his, but he’s getting frustrated now.

Dante’s been missing for a week now, and in this town, that’s never a good sign. And if no one’s seen him…

His gut and five years of stalking the night as a vigilante are telling him he shouldn’t get his hopes up about finding his friend, but he can’t work up the courage to stop. To just, pack up and head back to California.

Things between him and the Family are…tense.

Bruce hasn’t quite been able to look at him without suspicion since the whole incident with Captain Boomerang and Freeze. Dick’s as focussed on Damian as ever, and whatever attention he has left over has been going to mentoring Duke. Steph and Tim are in another extended “off” period of their on-and-off-again relationship, Damian’s…Damian. And Cass isn’t around often enough to mitigate any of that.

As much as Alfred assures him it’s not the case, Tim’s been feeling more and more like Gotham doesn’t have anything for him any longer.

He never thought he’d ever feel like that.

Gotham is dank and dark and terrifying, but it’s home. It’s flying through the air and running across rooftops and diving into trouble at the last second to save the day. It’s everything he wanted when he was a kid, secretly following Batman and Robin around with a camera almost as big as he was.

But every year now, it feels like the city is a little danker, a little darker, a little more terrifying. A lot more hopeless.

Part of him thinks that hopelessness started growing following Jason Todd’s murder. Tim did his best to be there for him, but it’s been an uphill battle. And every year, the fight for Gotham’s soul becomes an even bloodier war of attrition, consuming more and more innocents.

Reminded of his goal tonight, Tim decides to involve himself more directly.  

He rappels down to the alley floor and resigns himself to several hours of canvassing a hostile neighborhood. Though fear is an excellent motivator for some, for others a different approach is needed.

People are unlikely to tell a stranger—even a rich stranger—anything worthwhile. Especially here in the Alley, where throwing money at problems get people’s backs up. There’s a sense of pride down here, and an us-versus-them mentality that even the most destitute ascribe to.

And vigilantes are pretty firmly in the ‘them’ column.

Tim has better luck than most here; Red Robin has been frequenting this place a lot over the years, almost from the moment he put on the cape and tights. The other capes never bothered much with it—except for Jason, who when he was Robin made a point of ending his patrols with a quick check of his former home. Tim sometimes thinks that maybe his tendency to come here is an homage to that, a way of keeping his predecessor’s legacy alive.

Of course, he’s never said anything like that to anyone in the family. Even years later, the grief is still too raw. If he’s asked, Tim maintains that he’s cultivated a careful network of informants and contacts in the Alley, and nothing more.

I mean, it’s not like I can go wandering around Crime Alley in the middle of the day.

Tim Drake-Wayne’s face is too recognizable, causes too much trouble. People are desperate here, might try to grab him and use him to extort money from Bruce—and he’d have to let him because he’s not supposed to be able to handle himself. Bruce would come, of course, or whoever’s nearest that Oracle can get on the comms, but it would mean interrupting actual crimes in progress, with actual people who are in danger.

A worse alternative would be if whoever has Dante—and Tim’s sure someone has him because the kid wouldn’t just vanish on his own—they might harm him. Because Tim is the adopted son of the man funding Batman, and if they think he might cause them trouble, most people willing to kidnap are also willing to murder.

All of which assumes that they haven’t murdered him yet.

Tim’s plan of approached hinges on the locals actually being in a helpful mood tonight, but he soon discovers that’s not the case. No one’s feeling talkative tonight, even when he ramps up the intimidation a little.

Either there’s someone out there they’re more afraid of, or they really don’t know.

It’s only in the early hours of the morning when he’s considering returning to his Park Row apartment in defeat, that one of the working girls finally takes pity on him.

“Watchin’ you go back and forth is makin’ me dizzy,” Rhonda says. She’s been working the corner of Park Row and Fifth since before Tim’s time, and though she rarely goes out of her way to get involved with the capes, she does tend to be bluntly honest if the situation is right. “Who you lookin’ for?”

“This kid. Or anyone who’s seen him,” he says, pitching his voice into his approximation of Bruce’s Batman growl. He holds out the glossy picture he’s been flashing around all night; he took it off a security camera and increased the size of. “He was working at the bodega on the corner of Parker and Main just outside the Alley.”

“A bit weird for a cape to give a shit about some kid from ‘round here. Don’t you freaks normally deal with the bigger freaks?”

“Have you seen him or not?” Tim insists, ignoring the jab.

“Who’s he to you, sugar?” she asks, glancing at the picture Tim brandishes. “And don’t give me no bullshit.”

Tim sighs, knowing better than to test her; she’s got Alfred levels of talent when it comes to lies.

“He’s a friend of sorts,” he explains. “Sort of…a protégé. I’ve been looking out for him the past few months.”

Which is sort of true, though not in the way he’s implying.

During WE’s years board meeting to examine the various applications for the Scholarship Program, Tim took note of an applicant whose overall qualifications were outstanding and whose even on paper looked like a major boon to the company.

But the Board of Directors took one look at Dante Garcia’s prior assault conviction at age twelve and decided to toss his application. Without even reading the excellent essay the kid wrote to explain the reasons he had been fighting (to defend a friend from a police officer with a grudge). Or how the experience made him want to become an advocate for those who couldn’t afford it.

It was a brave move, being upfront about the criminal record, but likely Dante knew it wasn’t exactly something he could hide. His record wouldn’t be sealed until he was eighteen.

Tim tried to argue that one mistake made for good reasons shouldn’t deny a bright kid the opportunity and that Dante was clearly of the same caliber as Tim, just without the last name to help him.

(He hadn’t mentioned that Dante reminded him of another boy from long ago, given a second chance and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.)

He was still outvoted.

From the way the old bastards were looking at him, Tim felt sure it was more because of who he was than who Dante was.

The petty bastards never did get over the fact they have a teenager for a boss.

In spite of the Board not agreeing with his vote, Tim already decided he intended to help Dante. He tracked him down to speak to him in person and get a better measure of him.

He was immediately impressed upon their first meeting, especially when he discovered how easy it was to converse with him. He has an intelligence that reminds him of Duke, but his attitude put him in mind of everything he knew about the second Robin.

“I’m going to figure out a way to get you a scholarship,” he told him two weeks into their acquaintanceship. “Even if it’s not from the Foundation, we’ll figure it out. I’d be willing to hire you on at the Neon Knights if you’re interested. Criminal records aren’t exactly a deal-breaker there.”

(Especially since most of the people working there were once part of or are in the process of escaping gangs.)

“That sort of thing will look good on a resume and open doors for you, including getting you into events and putting your name out there,” Tim continued. “The Knights also sponsors educational initiatives, so you can get your general credits out of the way and eventually transfer into a college program of your choice.”

Dante stared at him, suspicious. “Why you doing this, man? You don’t know me from Adam.”

“Because I was taken in by a man who didn’t think someone’s last name or financial background should be an obstacle to greatness,” Tim replied honestly. “My brothers and sister came from harsh backgrounds, but he didn’t let that stop him from taking them in and trying to help them achieve their potential. They’re all good kids that could have gone a very different way if he didn’t get involved. Because he had the ability to do so. Having influence means nothing if you don’t use it to do good.”

“So what’s the price of this?”

“That you’ll be expected to pay it forward. And you’re already going to be doing that when you get your degree and start helping people. You’llhave the influence. Just keep your nose clean and away from the gangs, and you have a real shot, kid.”

“Excuse you, white boy, you’re my age. None of that ‘kid’ shit with me.”

Tim laughed.

It had still taken time after that to convince Dante that Tim’s offer was legit, but once he decided he was trustworthy, they’d started hanging out more. What started with Tim sponsoring a kid with huge potential turned into an actual friendship—and he didn’t have many of those with people who weren’t in the caped community. There was something about that he wanted to protect.

When Dante’s mother called him one day in tears, explaining that Dante had never come home from work and the police wouldn’t let her file a missing person’s report until 48 hours had passed, Tim didn’t hesitate to get involved.

At first, he’d worried that Dante’s disappearance was related to Tim—had someone discovered his identity and then decided to use his friend as leverage? The likelihood of that was low, however; anyone who did know his identity would come at him more directly, or at least have contacted him with some kind of threat.

Which meant what happened to Dante wasn’t vigilante related, but simply bad luck.

That doesn’t make Tim any less intent on figuring out what happened.

His thoughts must be projecting through his body language somehow because Rhonda’s usually sharp eyes soften a bit and she sighs. Looking around, she ensures there’s no one nearby, and then says, “You need to talk to Salvatore.”

“Who?”

“He’s a pimp, hangs out down the corner. He hooks, too, which is fucking weird. Does it because he likes it,” she says, making a disgusted face. “He tends to be the guy that’s always the last person to see someone before they go missin’, if you know what I mean?”

“You think he’s involved?”

“Nah, he’s too paranoid to do that. Likes to keep his hands clean, or pretend to. But he’s right near where your friend disappeared. And…” She hesitates here, sizing Tim up, and then nods to herself, “He’s got a rep. Lures new boys on the street into the business. He’s got a scary success rate at it, too.” She shivers. “Makes sense, he’s a scary motherfucker. Lots of his kids go missin’, but he always had some excuse. Letters and texts and shit provin’ they left the city or somethin’. No one knows how he does it, so you get him to talk, you’ll find out what you want to know. But I don’t see it happenin’.”

“Still. Thanks for the information,” Tim says and digs into his belt for a wad of cash. To his surprise, Rhonda shakes her head.

“Anyone sees me takin’ that from you right before you go after Salvatore, they’ll know I talked. No one’ll think I’d be stupid enough to give anything up for free. You come back a few days after you deal with that bastard, I’ll take it then.”

“That’s oddly trusting for someone like you.”

“Honey, you’ve been watchin’ these streets long enough I know you’re good for it. And catch me or anyone else ever telling you jack shit ever again if you stiff me.”

Tim snorts. “Fair enough. What’s this guy look like so I can find him?”

“Trust me, you’ll know him when you see him. Just don’t tell that creep anything ‘bout me sendin’ you in his direction.”

She doesn’t wait for his answer before sashaying away, returning to her activities for the night.

Tim keeps to the shadows as he heads to the corner Rhonda indicated, thinking he might have to wait around for a few hours—or even return the next night—if he’s going to find his next suspect.

It turns out he doesn’t need to.

A man who can only be Salvatore is leaning against the wall at the mouth of an alley, fiddling with his very expensive looking phone.

He is a tall, muscular, almost impossibly good-looking man with high cheekbones, intense blue eyes, and a full, cruel mouth. There’s something in a way that mouth lifts at the corners that makes Tim’s stomach thud, memories of a similar grin and devil-may-care laugh he only ever got to see through the lens of a camera or across a crowded ballroom.

But this isn’t him. This guy looks more like a crocodile than a robin.

“Well, hello there, handsome,” the man purrs when Tim materializes beside him, eyes flicking up and down Tim’s form with a look that does nothing to dispel the predatory image. “Looking for a pick-me-up after a hard night’s work?”

Tim ignores the innuendo dripping in the man’s voice.

“I’ve been given the impression you’ve seen this boy,” Tim says coolly, holding up his photo. “That you were the last one to see him. I need to know what you know.”

“I’m sure you do, baby, but I don’t come cheap, and neither does anything that comes out of my mouth,” Salvatore drawls.

Tim shrugs; if it’s money he wants, that’s not a problem. “I’m sure we could come to an arrangement.”

“Oh, I know we can,” Salvatore chuckles. “But not here.” His eyes flick around like he’s scoping out someone watching; his irises flicker strangely in the dim streetlight. “Not where someone might see us talking. I could lose customers for talking to a mask—and I’m all about discretion.”  

“They’re already seeing us talking.”

“And as far as they know, you’re just asking about the price of the goods,” Salvatore purrs, moving so slowly as to telegraph his moves and stroking his fingers across Tim’s chest plate, and down. “Can’t imagine seeking justice satisfies all your urges, does it, little bird?”

Tim’s hand snaps upward, clamping around Salvatore’s wrist and exerting just enough pressure to earn and choked gasp of pain. “I am here for information. Nothing more, nothing less. Either you tell me what I want to know, and I compensate you, or you tell me what I want to know and leave here with a bunch of bruises that will definitely affect your bottom line. Assuming I don’t drag you to the nearest precinct in handcuffs.”

“Baby, I’m almost tempted to take you up on that,” Salvatore says, licking his lips. “But I also know there’s worse on the streets than me. Who knowswhat your friend might have stumbled into?”

Tim’s jaw clenches. “Meaning?”

“Meaning we’re doing this little info exchange my way, and that involves not being out in the open. This is private business, after all.”

This time Tim’s nose curls, sensing an implication there. Either this guy’s not too bright, practically broadcasting his intentions to a vigilante, or he knows something important enough he thinks Tim will do anything for it.

Tim considers him, trying to evaluate how he wants to play this. Obviously, he doesn’t trust Salvatore, but he needs information even if it’s the vaguest of statements.

Salvatore’s clearly unarmed—no weapon’s hiding anywhere with that little clothing. And Tim was trained by Batman and Lady Shiva.

Buddy, aren’t you in for a surprise.

“Fine,” Tim says. “Lead the way.”

Salvatore’s pupils dilate, once again catching the dim light in a manner that makes them seem like they reflect.

Then he jerks his head toward the dark, shadowy alley behind him.

Against every instinct of self-preservation that managed to survive the brilliant idea of a twelve-year-old becoming a vigilante, Tim follows.

⁂

Next Chapter

[elegiacmarquise]

The Legend of Zelda: Stone of Paths: Main Characters and Introduction

Here we are the designs of the Link and Zelda from the concept of a fangame I’m creating: Stone of Paths, which it could be considered as a prequel of BOTW. Before I start, however, I do want to thank my friend g0thi-cr0c, who patiently helped me with the translation of the first messy draft: thank thank you a lot!

I’m really really sorry, true Zelda fans, if this AU is kinda inconsistent with canon: despite I tried to inform myself as best I can do, I’m aware there are something I’ve might be missed; therefore if you notice some continuity or even logical errors, tell me! As you may notice in the next lines, the following are the basics of the games: so I didn’t deepened some parts of the story nor the character, and if I can get some help from some enthusiasts, I can be more than happy! So criticism is more than accepted! Short Version (also known as tl;dr): Setted 10.500 years before BOTW main events, the quest of this incarnation of Link is to defeat a Ganon which split itself into the three (plus two after an event) timelines which started from Ocarina of Time. Starting from the northern of the Akkala Region during the Child Timeline, the Hero of Paths (initially a simple forester) will be helped by Cice, a fairy sent by Zelda to call Link, Tiusha, the daughter of the Gerudo Matriarch and Nanas, a Sheikah who discovered and passed a part of his life to study and develop the Sheikah Slate and its correlations with the Guide Stones. He will give Link the fruit of his studies in order to travel to other timelines. Even the Princess herself will help the hero, albeit her distant relationship with him: initially emotionally afflicted by a tragedy happened in the game’s beginning, she will slowly be aware of herself and unlocking Hylia’s powers. In the final dungeons her presence will be fundamental! ———————————————— Link, the Hero of Paths: the main protagonist of this game; he lives with his horse Epona in the village of Redleaf, northern Akkala: a zone particularly liked by wayfarers for its peculiar position between mountains and seaside. His job is to be a forester but often he helps his fellow villagers in their everyday duties. Gifted by a very good sense of orientation and sword skills, Link is already celebrated in his homeland, mostly for bravely protecting it by the countless monsters who usually scare the wayfarers during their wander. His adventure starts in the beginning of Autumn: the entire village of Redleaf was preparing to host the yearly Fall Festival, and since it was the period of the year which traditionally attracted most tourists, Link overworked himself to make surd the festival was going as best it could be. In the day the festival begun, a mysterious, horrific, creature suddenly appeared in the town nearly destroying it, causing both the tourists and the locals to run away. As soon as he could, Link took his wooden sword and fought the monster but was unexpectedly hit hard by the beast, leaving him nearly dead. In his uncertain state, he heard a muffled voice which tried desperately to tell him something he couldn’t distinguish. That voice vanished just after. Soon after, he was woken up by Cice, a little Fairy who took care of him. After the fairy presented herself as to be sent by Princess Zelda, who desperately tried to send him help with her weak telepathic powers. The magic being begged Link’s help in order to save Hyrule from the return of Ganon and his fellow army, promising him the safety of the village as well: when the forester accepted, Cice hurried Link and Epona to go to the Kokiri Forest, where the Master Sword was protected  and to defeat Ganon as soon as possible. In the woods, despite the Deku Tree and the Sword’s spirit agreed for the Hero to extract it, they both weren’t as sure as they were with the other Links: despite their awareness of the heroic nature of the Akkalan forester, they still had the sensation he was too weak to defeat this force, but didn’t know what exactly led them to these thoughts. They felt this incarnation of Ganon was really different, almost as he came from another world but at the same time they couldn’t prove it, so they preferred remaining quiet. With a new sword in the sheath, the hero ran towards Hyrule Castle, where he met Zelda for the first time a little before trying to defeat Ganon. Despite the weakness of her powers,Zelda still cared about his arrive, to the point to give him some of the best weapons in the castle. She also made her mother bless him, despite the queen being deeply worried about the lack of her daughter’s actual powers. But when Link managed to defeat the beast and everything was about to be restored into their original form, a dark force revived Ganon, allowing him to be even more powerful than he used to be; it destroyed the already corrupted castle, killing almost everyone who lived there at the sole impact, including the Queen of Hyrule. In the tragedy, during the escape from a falling castle, the Hero accidentally lost the Master Sword, but at the same time found the barely surviving body of Princess Zelda. Cice ordered the swordman to escort her to Kakariko Village, the birthace of her old nurse Impa; she the only surviving person who could cure her. After a troubled travel, they arrived to the village: surprisingly, Impa was already aware and prepared of their visit, having been advised by the late spirit of Zelda’s mother in dream. Without anything else to do, and shocked by the dispersion of his beloved villagers and failure of his heroic duties, the swordsman was requested by Impa to met Nanas, a Sheikah scientist. A former ambulant shopkeeper, he’s known for leaving behind his former life to do researches about a miraculous Stone (which will be called the Sheikah Stone terminal in BOTW). This stone can memorize some new information which can also be manipulated into runes; they afflict the surrounding world with the connection of a smaller rudimentary tablet made with an extremely rare material (also known as a first version of the Sheikah Slate we’ll see in BOTW). As Link first stepped into Nanas’ home, the stone glowed in a light Nanas didn’t ever see before, and automatically installed an unusual  rune the scientist remembered not programming: when activated, Link could see passages otherwise invisible which could lead him directly to the monsters Ganon sent through all Hyrule. The first passage he found brought, in spite of himself, to the first beast he met in a deserted Redleaf village. After finally destroying it,Link could open another secret passage which led him… in the same place. But something at the same time seemed to have changed: some of the buildings, or new faces which couldn’t recognize Link at all. As the hero remembered, they were preparing themselves to host a festivity; however, when asked about the Fall Festival, the people looked at him strangely and replied they actually were excited about the upcoming visit of King Horatio Casimir Hyrule. Between the greeting crowd, the King recognised Link instantly, deeply surprising the hero: as the King would tell him in a second moment, the true reason he visited such a far village was a Prophecy that has been handed down for centuries. It told a green dressed Hero would come from another Hyrule’s Land of Autumn at the time in which a single Princess Zelda existed in all the three timelines and introduced the Fallen Timeline. Unlike the other two parallel Hyrules, the people living in this one were generally aware of not being the only one. Added to the fact the King didn’t have a distinctive legacy since the premature death of his wife, he became slowly worried about the right time for the prophecy to happen, so he decided to go against the court’s will, both relieved and even more worried to be right about his encounter. In fact, both Link and Ganon would have to come at the same time; in order to prevent a total destruction in his land, the King explicitly asked Link to bring him the Zelda from his dimension, defeat Ganon and finally reunite both the timelines he was in, along with the third one. Therefore, after hearing the King’s request, Link and Cice went back to the Kakariko village in his world and told Impa, Zelda and Nanas about the three Hyrule timelines; they started their main quest, in order to find the Master Sword again and rebuild Link’s native village. Princess Zelda Telene Hyrule: the Princess of Hyrule and first female born in the Royal Family of Hyrule after 100 years, therefore a descendant of Hylia. For this reason, added to the possibility of an incoming menace, her concerned parents took the drastic decision to rarely let the Princess go out of the castle; this norm had become harsher after the premature death of her father when she was still a child. The Queen of Hyrule, who wanted to show the daughter the variety of the reign’s population and tey to make feel Zelda less alone, decided to bring in her castle some exponents of every Hyrulean race; and the child became particularly close with the Fairy Cice. Aside of her isolation, she spent a rather peaceful childhood. While she was already prepared to act as a proper princess and was raised in a peaceful period, Zelda was still worried about her future both as a queen and as a descendant of Hylia, fearing to disappoint her loving yet severe mother. Even at the beginning of her eighteenth year of life she couldn’t do anything aside from a weak power of telepathic speech she gained when she was a toddler. In an apparently normal day of her life, an huge malevolent entity possessed her castle, imprisoning almost everyone in it: the Hyrule army tried to defend from the beast but were mortally defeated. While the Queen and her daughter tried to think about a solution, Zelda decided to send a telepathic help appeal to everyone in the kingdom which only a comatose Link received. With both hope in her heart and worry about his safety, she asked Cice , the smallest being in her castle, therefore the most likely to pass unnoticed to Ganon, to reach for the hero and to cure him with a mixture of a medicine she prepared herself and the fairy’s own healing powers. She couldn’t do anything but revolving her prayers to the Goddess Hylia and searching for the best weapons in the castle, in order to give Link the best aid she could offer. Usually described as calm, imaginative and compassionate, this Zelda often shows the tendency to be overly obsessed by negative thoughts and guilt feelings, especially after almost her entire court was killed by Ganon. Despite her first encounter with Link in the castle was hopeful, she will close herself after the accident and feel useless to have not helped enough to avoid that tragedy. Spending most of her day in her room, she often asked herself the reasons she was gifted by such a weak power and why she wasn’t as powerful as her ancestors, trying to give herself an answer she couldn’t completely satisfy. She saw Link’s presence as the concrete incarnation of her own failures  to her duties as both a Princess and a descendant of Hylia; therefore,when he came back to Kakariko Village from his interdimensional travel, she preferred avoided directly talking to him, preferring being mediated by Impa instead. However, she was aware about the vicious circle which her behaviour could to her and the few people she could trust, so she took the wise yet difficult choice to restart a temporary new life and get used to the simple village life. Despite she was still emotionally overwhelmed by her beloved mother’s grief, she was strong enough to become Nanas’ assistant; while she offered him to do some smaller works for him, she slowly became fascinated by his researches. She also befriended Tiusha, a cheerful Gerudo girl who kept staying in Kakariko village after finding her ideal voe in Nanas. Despite her firstly avoiding behaviour, Zelda became progressively closer to Link as well: she was deeply displeased about the lack of help she offered him, but eventually apologized to Link in tears and was happily forgiven, keeping evolving herself further. Positively influenced by both Nanas’ brilliant mind and constant effort in what he does, by Tiusha’s optimistic yet powerful behaviour and by Link’s selflessness and courage, she slowly became more free by her negative thoughts and influence of her mother visiting the lands around Kakariko village for some research requested by Nanas. In order to travel safely and to reassure a worried Impa about her wellbeing as both a surrogate child and as a Princess, Zelda also restarted practicing archery and learnt some sword basics. However, the moment Zelda will remember the most was when another emotional crisis came: the sudden miss of her mother’s love and role model rapidly interrupted her slowly healing process. This time, however, something changed; her heart was instilled with her first wish, a spark of hope in her previously pessimistic mind-set: to visit the Spring of Power, the Spring of Courage and, lastly, the Spring of Wisdom. She was insecure about her mastery with the weapons, so she asked Link, who already had to go there in order to find the Master Sword, if he could escort her. When the green dressed hero accepted, they prepared themselves and left the village despite Nanas, Cice and Impa’s doubts. Acting as the third and last guide in the game, after Cice and Tiusha, her bond with Link intensified to the point of revealing him her past and her feelings when the swordsman escorted her and protected her from the monsters. When they arrived to the Spring of Power and defeated Ganon together, Zelda started to slowly regain Hylia’s powers, fully obtaining them as she arrived to the Spring of Wisdom. As she would tell Link and Cice, when she prayed at each Spring, she internally reached up a state of ecstasy and felt surrounded by a comforting light Link would only catch a small grasp of; she also heard the reassuring words of her mother, who told her she was proud of her progress and that she would be a great Queen to Hyrule . Lastly she saw a beautiful and mysterious woman who kissed her right hand without saying anything. Back in her world, a Triforce jewel in her gown appeared. She felt for the first time in full peace with herself, as she felt her telepathy power improving and other abilities unlocking. As she progressively gained her powers, her help was crucial during in the resolution of the last few dungeons, and her intervention (as King Horatio hoped) was crucial to reunite each Hyrule into an united big reign. Along with Tiusha, Cice and Nanas’ technology,she participated in the final battle with a dimension-merged Ganon, the most dangerous Hyrule ever witnessed; her godly abilities,united with Link’s skills and Master Sword (merged from the three dimensions by Hyrule’s unification) managed to defeat and seal it.   This incarnation of the dimension-merged Ganon, however, lasted for 500 years until it became more intelligent and powerful: its freeing became the Calamity Ganon whose legend was narrated in Breath of the Wild. At the end of the adventure, despite facing up a first politically difficult period, Zelda was crowned as Hyrule’s Queen and her wisdom and diplomacy were loved by her subjects; it’s hinted in the game’s credits she visited the Redleaf village to speak again with a Link who implicitly accepted to marry her. Their children’s progenie after 10.500 years will give the birth to King Rhoam,and then to the Zelda of Breath of the Wild. Nanas’ discoveries and research, already known and developed by a small elite of Sheikah people Link would meet into his journey, were made famous by Zelda’s narration of the events: even more people were interested in his technology and his very first uses of the terminals and the Sheikah tablet, to the point they developed them for more uses, just as the future Sheikah Towers and Shrines. King Horatius from the Fallen Timeline abdicated the throne in favour of the owner of the Triforce and willingly dedicated himself to help the now Queen Zelda as her political adviser. Thanks to their resourceful knowledge about politics, as well as Hyrule’s cultures and timelines, their governing guidelines were useful to keep the Reign in peace for 500 years. Thank you a lot for reading! I hope you’ll like it:3

So… I happened to be more into Zelda.

After my initial skepticism due to its high praise from both critique and pubblic, I finally brought Breath of the wild, which it’s revealed to be the best decision I did in a while: I loved that post-apocalyptic setting, that ruins, the charm of villages and characters blended with a fun gameplay and the fitting music! *v*

I also loved the characters and the sparse storytelling, and even the Zelda herself, to which I never really was a fan due to her kinda aggressive behavior and unfitting character design, she has still a lot of interesting and relatable parts! I especially like how she struggles to do her duties and her difficult relationship with her father. I didn’t like however, how fastly and suddenly she got her powers.

I’m looking forward to buy even more game from this saga, despite I still like Mario and Pikmin better, maybe starting from Skyward Sword, which has such an intriguing plot.

[fluidityandgiggles]

Sleep Is For The Weak - Chapter 15

Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 5, Chapter 10, Last Chapter

Writing Masterlist - for previous chapters not otherwise linked, Read on AO3

Notes (I guess): Two months. It took me two months to write this chapter. I... I’m honestly kinda surprised at myself...

Umm... I didn’t intend on writing this chapter so early, it was meant to be dragged on for a while more and has kind of a big time jump in it (for plot reasons, trust me), but I mean... the fuck with it. The world deserves some BAMF Emile, we need some cuddles, and the subject of the first... three fourths of this chapter is one that I went to friends from a discord server with and told them I’m trying to make it really subtle and one of them just went, “This isn’t subtle at all, this shit is jumping off the walls and doing somersaults in front of me.”

So I mean... let’s get this over with! Let’s let the cat halfway out of the bag and have the first Emile-centered chapter of many, many others planned.

Thanks as always go to @whatwashernameagain for KHS and for not geting super extra frustrated with all my weird questions, to @broadwaytheanimatedseries for being my guinea pig most of the time and for the original idea, and to @winglessnymph and @asleepybisexual and @anony-phangirl for sticking with me and my insane ideas from the beginning (and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you shit about this chapter, but y’all knew it was coming).

Tag list (sort of): @bunny222, @ab-artist, @sweet-and-sour-shadowling, @your-username-is-unavailable, @virgilcrofters, @ilovemygaydad, @violetblossem, @maybe-i-like-the-misery, @book-of-charlie, @thatsanswitch, @thatrandomautist

Trigger warning: period appropriate transphobia (the early 00s were not exactly trans-friendly). Not as much in here, actually in this chapter it’s pretty non-existent, but this trigger warning goes in every chapter. This chapter also includes Holocaust mentions, discussion of mental health, and that’s honestly about it I think but please let me know if there’s anything I missed.

—————

Wednesday, March 19th, 2003

"Do you understand why I asked you to come here today?" Gilliam asked, clicking a pen.

Emile was frozen in his seat.

"Umm…" Emile's leg started shaking. "Is it about my last project…? I swear I really did read everything I said I—"

"Look…" Gilliam sighed. "You're a fantastic student. Really, Emile. You are one of my best students. But… I gotta say, you remind me of myself, and not in a good way."

"What do you mean…?"

"Do you mind if we went over your last test?" Emile nodded, feeling the heavy sensation in his stomach get even stronger.

"The last test I took was the implicit…"

"Your last written test," Gilliam clarified. "The one in December." He pulled out a folder labeled and decorated with a mint green marker.

‘Emile Picani - 2002/3'

"Your answers were great," Gilliam said with a sad smile as he pulled out the last test from the back of the folder. "They just didn't fit the questions. Look here, define four of the following five Gestalt Laws of Organization."

"I defined four of the following five Gestalt Laws—"

"You explained them, Emile. Define and explain are two very different instructions. I've been there too, kid. I know it's confusing." Emile wanted to vanish right then and there. It wasn't… he was trying his best! "Also, question eight, part c, why do we dream?" The doctor started underlining the question with his pen, thankfully closed. "Take one of the proposed theories and provide one way in which this may be supported."

"But… but I did—"

"Part d, take the same theory from part c and provide a way in which it might be refuted."

Well… they were going to kick him out, weren't they.

"You're a very smart kid, Emile Picani. I'll bet you so many people told you you have such potential and all that… I know it's very frustrating." Gilliam pushed Emile's glasses up, wiping his eyes from unshed tears in the process. It was… somewhat calming. "Did anyone ever suggest that you might have ADHD?"

Emile shook his head. That possibility… well, he didn't want it to be a possibility! Sure, it wasn't the end of the world if he did, but… his parents didn't have to pay for more adderall than necessary, their neighbors didn't need any more reasons to call his mom a drug addict! And… the counselor at his high school had to be right. He was stupid… wasn't he? Learning disabilities just made you stupid…

He was useless. Regardless of what his professor thought.

"Getting into university at seventeen years old is no easy fit," Gilliam kept rambling. "I remember Walter reading your essay to me—"

"Walter?"

"...oh, right! Professor Freeman." Emile's eyes darkened a bit, as if he already knew what was about to be said. Gilliam just laughed. "Yeah, he immigrated from Germany in the late forties I think… poor guy. Changed his last name and everything! Yeah… so anyway, he read your essay to me. We fought a lot of people to have you accepted! I just… I have to ask you. Have you ever had issues like that in school?"

Emile nodded.

"And not in school?"

"I… I guess, yeah… why?"

Gilliam just pulled a light purple post-it note, scribbled something on it, scribbled the same thing again after opening his pen, and handed it to the very confused Emile.

"I said it before, but this time I mean it even more than last time. Go to the psych clinic. I'll write you a referral if you find it hard to talk to them, just let me know, but in my opinion you really should get evaluated for ADHD."

As Emile got up to leave, he fiddled with the note in his hands. It was… he was…

Was he really going to do that…?

"Austria," he mumbled as he reached the door.

"Excuse me?"

"Dr. Freeman is Austrian, not German. It can be confusing, I know. His family immigrated in 1947. And his last name is Landau. He never changed it, he just goes by Freeman for teaching because nobody liked the ‘Germans' post-Holocaust."

"Did he tell you that…?"

"You said he read you my essay, I thought you guessed already."

He was sure he left Gilliam baffled. But it didn't help the sinking feeling in his stomach any.

————

"I can't have it," Emile mumbled against Remy's chest, the note semi-safely in his pocket. "I don't want to!"

"Emmy, gurl, you realize you're making a huge deal out of nothing, right?" Remy laughed. "It's ADHD. It's not terminal cancer."

That made Emile cry even harder.

"No, no… Emile, it's gonna be alright. I promise. Okay? You trust me?"

"My uncle would be so disappointed," Emile whispered. "He's the reason I'm here! And… and I'm disappointing him so much!"

"You're a legacy, sweets?"

"Kinda… I guess." He sniffled. Remy felt his heart break even more, and for what? A mental disorder, a learning disability, a small neurological difference that only made him (in Remy's opinion) even more awesome? "I don't want him to… to lose his status... especially not because of me! He worked so hard to get a teaching position and I don't want to be his downfall!"

"Who's this uncle, sweetie? If you having ADHD will be his downfall he's probably not such a good—"

"Doctor Landau— Umm, Doctor Freeman. He's my mom's uncle."

Remy was… needless to say he was speechless.

"Which Freeman are we talking about, love?"

"Head of psychology, Doctor Walter Freeman."

...his name is LANDAU?!

"...so after about six months of knowing you, you finally decide to tell me that you're the great-nephew of the head of department?!" Emile giggled against Remy's chest. He couldn't believe it! "Scandalous! Preposterous! Un-be-fucking-lievable! Emile!"

"I swear that's not how I got in," Emile muttered happily. "I wrote an essay, I swear I did!"

"Okay, but still, gurl, that's not a secret! It's too big to be called a secret."

"There's no such a thing as too big a secret," Emile said in a near-perfect imitation of Freeman's accent, and then giggled again. "And besides, it wasn't a secret. You never asked!"

"My love, when I die, I want you to tell my dad that I loved him," Remy said in an overly dramatic tone, pretending to faint right there on the couch. "Give all my possessions to Leah—"

"Stop it, you drama queen!"

"Oh, I'm a queen, alright."

The conversation was interrupted by Katherine doing as Katherine does - which today meant running from her room to the kitchen, grabbing an orange and running right back, as if not to be seen - but as soon as she disappeared, Emile broke into an even bigger giggle fit.

"My aunt would be so disappointed if she knew I was crying over this," he said at last, calming down from his laughing fit. "Caroline is the harsher one of them, and… and she used to visit Evanston every couple months when my mom was in university to help her get through her degree and raise my sister. My mom had my sister really young, you know? She and my dad were nineteen, and… okay, sorry, I'm getting sidetracked…"

"Please keep talking, love," Remy told him gently, with a soft smile and a pat on the head. "I can go make you some more tea if you'd like before we continue?"

"No, that's alright! Maybe later!" The blond almost threw himself off the couch in excitement. "I actually think… I think I should talk to them about this… I mean, Caroline would almost certainly get mad at me for thinking it'll ruin his career, and Walter would help me through the whole diagnosis thing… he did the same with Julie before we knew what she had is narcolepsy, you know? So…"

"So is there really anything to be scared of?"

Emile shook his head. Remy wiped his tear-streaked cheeks with gentle fingers, fixing his glasses right after that.

"I… I'm gonna do it. Okay? I'm gonna do it."

He was so proud of himself. It was so cute.

—————

Friday, March 21st, 2003; 15:43 p.m.

"Doctor," the resident student-psychiatrist (Thelma Grinberg, an overly boring MS student Emile already knew) called as she stretched her hand to shake his uncle's hand. "That's a surprise."

"Since Emile is still a minor, I had to accompany him," he explained sharply. "Neither of his parents could come here today."

"Caroline could've come too," Emile mumbled.

"Your aunt has a busy schedule today, Emile."

"You do too…"

Thelma seemed incredibly confused, but kept going anyway. And it took her longer than was probably necessary to get through all the questions.

Emile hated people like that. (And so did his uncle.)

He was dropped off at his dorm before his uncle had to leave, and that probably spooked Remy more than it should have. The kind "Mr. Harris, nice to see you" didn't help any.

"How did it go?" Remy asked, looking almost straight at Emile.

"Quite well, I would say." The smile looked incredibly weird on the older man's face. "Call your mother for me. Tell her everything that happened today, ja?" Emile nodded eagerly. "Thank you, Emile."

"I didn't ask—"

And with a strict "I expect to see you at my office on Monday, Mr. Harris", the professor left the dorm building, leaving behind a happy blond and his flustered best friend.

"...what was that?!"

"I have to go there again a couple days before spring break for another test, and then after Passover for a TOVA," Emile explained, rather excitedly. "You know what a TOVA is, don't y—"

"It's that test where you click a button according to instructions, I know. Mueller explained it to everyone three days ago, Emmy."

"Oh right! And… and I guess that after those tests I'll know if I have anything!"

After a long moment of awkward silence, Emile tapped Remy's shoulder again. "Care to come over for the holidays? You didn't for Hanukkah and now my parents really want you to! I mean… I do too, but my parents haven't really met you yet and they think you're pretty cool and—"

"Sure, I'll come."

Emile had to do a bit of a double take. "Seriously? Remy, I don't think you understand what you're signing up for here, it's all my cousins from three different countries, most of them don't speak English, my grandparents, uncle Walter and aunt Caroline, maybe even mom's cousins if they'd be so grateful as to—"

"No, I get it, sweetie. I have, like, twenty cousins on Linda's side alone, more or less. I'll be fine. Don't worry about it."

Remy may have known before that he'll do anything to see Emile smile, but… he's never realized it until now. Probably? Maybe? But as Emile started bouncing happily and jumped in to hug him, Remy finally accepted the reality.

Coming over to Emile's during spring break was no trouble, but… in the long run, he would do anything to see him smile.

—————

Wednesday, April 16th, 2003

This was… definitely not spring break anymore. Remy was pretty sure that the higher ups in administration would rip him a new nonexistent one when they found out why he took a week's vacation in the middle of the spring semester…

Then again, so did a lot of the other students, and some of the staff. So maybe he was exaggerating…?

Eh. Finals start the week after that and end in May. He can allow himself a week off.

And yet he still had no idea how he ended up like this, watching Prince of Egypt with his best friend and said friend's three-year old niece at nine in the morning, as said friend's mom was overworking herself in the kitchen trying to make space and food for over thirty people…

Oh, and there was a dog too. She was currently playing with a squeaky toy, but she was there.

He only processed that this is the situation he's in once Emile started trying to get his niece singing. He had no idea what was going on on screen, but… something was.

"Mom, where's everyone?" Emile called to the kitchen after failing - for the hundredth time - to engage Analiese.

"Where could everyone possibly be, Emile?"

"Walter and Caroline are in town for the things you forgot to buy, grandma and grandpa are probably at their connection…" he started mumbling, counting on his fingers in an odd fashion. "I don't know!"

"You just said so yourself," Remy laughed quietly, grabbing Emile's hands gently. "Let's go over this again. Walter and Caroline are in town, your grandparents are at their connection…"

"Yeah, I know that," he groaned, slightly frustrated. "I just… everyone… here. That's what… that's what I'm confused about. Where's everyone here."

"...where everyone is seated?" Emile nodded. "Oh gurl… do you wanna make place holders, organize the seating, do you want to…"

"I just want to make sure nobody wants to sit on both my sides. One is okay, but you have to sit on my other side and I'm worried about that."

Oh…

"Well, we're gonna make sure that nobody takes my seat, okay?" Remy asked, kissing Emile's cheek afterwards.

"I sit with Emile!" Analiese declared, her attention now directed at the boys. Emile started laughing and leaned over to pinch her chubby cheek.

"We will read together, and sing together, and if mom complains we're gonna tell her off, right Ana?"

The toddler nodded, extremely determined, and Remy felt his heart melt all over again.

This was too good to be true, and not even seeing his most feared professor walk through the door and sit down next to them in the living room could shake this feeling. For once, Remy wasn't scared of this man. Through some odd change of fate, or something like that.

"So this is your first time doing such a thing?" Doctor La— Doctor Freeman asked, smiling gently as Analiese bounced in his lap and rambled about everything she's done this week. "Participating in Passover?"

"Yes, sir."

"He's my uncle now, not our professor," Emile laughed, squeezing Remy's hand. "You don't have to be so scared of him."

It didn't work as instantly as he wanted it to, but as the night went on, Remy actually… found that he wasn't that scared of him anymore.

As he said, this was too good to be true. And nothing could ever seem to be able to shake this good feeling.

[bamby0304]

Freaky Friday

Summary: Sam wakes up in a bed he didn’t fall asleep in… in a body that isn’t his. When he finds his own body asleep in the Bunker library he also finds you occupy the body, confusion ensues. Dean can’t stop laugh, you can’t stop freaking out, and despite everything Sam is- once again- the only person who can keep their head on… well, your head on… his head on? Jeez this is confusing.

Pairing: reader!Sam x Sam!Reader

A/N: This is for @squirrel-moose-winchester​’s Supernatural Crack Attack Challenge!! I picked the prompt Curses/Spells/Potions. After talking it out with Squirrel, she’s letting me use each of the three things in the prompt in three different fics. For this one, I’m using Curses, and a second loophole which lets me use another prompt without taking it… body swap!!

Warnings: Explicit language. An attempt at crack. Body swap, obviously. Fluff? The slightest bit of angst? Implied smut.

Bamby

Sam had fallen asleep at one of the Bunker library tables… not in a warm and comfortable bed. Sam had fallen asleep in a loose long sleeve grey shirt and a pair of green and blue flannel pyjama bottoms… not a pair of pale purple silk shorts and a white cotton button up pyjama shirt. Sam had fallen asleep in his body… not yours.

What the hell?

Shooting out of bed, Sam hurried out of the bedroom he’d quickly realised was yours and rushed towards the library. Sure enough, his body was exactly where he’d left it when he’d fallen asleep researching last night. Only he wasn’t in his body, he was in yours, which meant you were- hopefully- in his.

If you weren’t in his then he had no idea who was or where you were. Maybe Dean would be in his body and you’d be in Dean’s, but he was kind of hoping you wouldn’t have to live in his brother’s body considering what Dean does with it. Although, he wasn’t too pleased at the thought of you being in his either.

Heading towards his sleeping body, Sam prayed to whoever or whatever was listening that he was about to find you and not his brother or some stranger. Then, with a deep breath, he reached forward and shook his shoulder.

“Y/N?” Sam flinched at the sound of his words coming out in a voice nothing like his own.

The body groaned, head rolling against the book it was resting on to look away from you. “Go away. Sleeping,” it grumbled in a voice Sam slightly recognised as his own, only it seemed a little higher than normal.

Sighing, not having the time for this, Sam reached forward once more. “Y/N?” he repeated, this time a little harsher with a rougher shove.

“Argh!” The body quickly sat up and turned to glare at Sam before it’s face turned to complete shock... and then they were moving. “What are you?!” they asked as they pushed themselves up, raising their hands to defend themselves. “You a shifter? ‘Cause you picked the wrong girl to copy, asshole!”

It was obvious it was you in Sam’s body, and before he could tell you this it seemed you realised the same thing.

Lifting a hand to your throat- which was actually Sam’s- your eyes went wide as you dropped back down into the chair. “Holy shit. I’m you. You’re me. We’re… we… what the fuck happened?”

“Sammy, you mind keeping it down?” Dean groaned as he walked into the library dressed in one of the old Men of Letters memeber’s robes with a coffee in hand.

Sam looked his brother up and down, wondering if it really was his brother he was looking up and down. It sounded like him, words, voice, mannerisms. It looked like him, body, movement, behaviour. But was it him?

“Dean?” Sam asked, still flinching at the sound of the soft voice following his words.

Pausing on his way to one of the library table chairs, Dean looked to your body not realising it was his brother he was looking at. Despite being a grump in the morning Dean perked up at the sight of you. “Nice pyjamas Y/N.”

Instinctively, Sam reached down to tug at the shirt he’d woken up in, trying to cover your body as Dean’s eyes lingered a little more. “I’m not Y/N.”

“I’m Y/N,” you noted in Sam’s voice.

Frozen on the spot, Dean’s grin vanished as he looked between the two of you. “Wait, so… you’re Sam,” he gestured to Sam in your body, “and you’re Y/N?” He gestured to you in his brother’s body.

Both you and Sam nodded in each other’s bodies.

Dean, unable to control himself, burst into laughter.

Sam huffed, not finding his brother’s reaction very helpful. “It’s not funny, Dean. Aren’t you worried? What if this is just the beginning? What if this is the start of some witch’s plan to kill us? You hate witches.”

Yet Dean didn’t stop. In fact, he continued to laugh so hard he had to put his coffee down on the table so he wouldn’t drop it.

“It’s not funny, Dean!” you snapped, pouting. Only, it was Sam’s face that was pouting, which looked absolutely ridiculous and only encouraged Dean’s laughter.

Rolling his eyes- which were actually yours- Sam turned away from his brother to look to you. “This is either a spell or a curse. It’s definitely witches, so I’m going to call Rowena and see what she knows, you should start looking up whatever we have on body swapping.”

As Dean continued to laugh, now sitting in one of the seats unable to keep himself standing due to his heavy laughter, you and Sam got to work.

It was hard and weird at first. Sam wasn’t used to his feet reaching the ground so suddenly, and you weren’t used to moving about with such long legs. His hands were usually bigger and could hold more, while yours were usually daintier and softer. Talking to Rowena on the phone had been a challenge for Sam, and getting comfortable while researching had been difficult for you

Both of you were shocked by each other’s strength. Sam realised you had to work harder than he thought in order to keep up with himself and Dean. You’d always assumed Sam was strong, but now that you were in his body you quickly figured out he held back quite a bit.

The whole experience was odd, and would have been fascinating… if you weren’t so freaked.

None of the research in the Men of Letters Bunker was useful. The talk with Rowena had only led to her insisting she come over to check on you both. Apparently you could be dealing with at least a dozen things, most of which would not end good.

Out of all the terrible things she’d told Sam and he’d repeated to you and Dean, the soul-swapping curse seemed the worst. It was used to literally swap souls. The souls would swap vessels and remain in their new homes until either the bodies and souls adjusted to the change and melded together… or the forced swap literally made the bodies and souls implode.

Dean had quickly sobered up and stopped laughing as soon as he realised his brother and best friend’s lives were potentially on the line. Or maybe he sobered up because you couldn’t stop freaking out all his laughing was just making it worse for you. The guy could be a dick at time, but he knew when to quit it.

Rowena looked from you to Sam and back. Her eyes glowed purple as she used her magic to scan you like some kind of witch x-ray or something… at least that’s how Dean had put it when she’d explained what she had to do.

“So, are we going to die?” you asked, no longer surprised to hear Sam’s voice saying your words.

Blinking, Rowena’s eyes turned to normal as her lips turned up into a smile. “No.”

You and Sam let out a relieved sigh, bodies visibly relaxing with the reassurance.

Dean shifted in his seat to rest his elbows on his knees as he watched the witch carefully. “You know what’s wrong with them?”

“It’s a simple curse. Probably put on the two of you by accident. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time,” the witch explained.

Sam moved to stand next to her, his impatience less intimidating on your face. “What is it, Rowena?”

“A connection curse. It’s not meant for harm but to make two people closer. It only works on couples whose souls are bonded… soulmates.” She turned to him- to your body- with a raised eyebrow and a grin. “The only way to break it is to connect.”

“Connect?” you and Sam asked at the same time.

“Yes. You know… connect like soulmates do.” She gave each of you a pointed look, waiting for you to catch on.

When you and Sam simply stood there, not getting it, looks of confusion plastered on your faces, Dean suddenly burst into laughter once more.

“Oh, God! This is fucking priceless.” He clutched at his stomach.

“How in the world is this priceless?” Sam asked, using your body to glare at his brother as he folded your arms over your chest.

Gesturing to you and Sam, Dean tried to calm himself as he explained, “The two of you have been pining over each other since forever.” He had to stop as more laughter slipped from his lips before he could continue, “And now you’re stuck like this until you connect. As in… have sex.”

Sam paled, your eyes went wide.

Rowena chuckled lightly. “He’s not wrong.”

“We have to have sex?” you asked, glancing over at Sam as he stood a few feet away in your body before your eyes returned to the witch. “You can’t just wave a magic wand and fix this?”

“Please.” She rolled her eyes, slightly annoyed. “If it was that easy don’t you think I’d be doing that by now?”

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re enjoying this,” Sam accused. “Someone had to put the curse on us, and your the only witch we know that would do something like this. All the others just want us dead.”

She gave a short nod. “True.”

Looking between the both of you, Rowena quickly realised neither of you would be comfortable ‘connecting’ in each other’s bodies, which meant you’d be stuck if she didn’t help you. It wouldn’t be easy, not like waving a magic wand, but there could be a way for her to help.

“Fine. I think I might now a counter spell,” she sighed, giving in despite her doubts that it would work. But helping the two of you was better than watching you squirm.

An hour or so later, after Rowena had pulled a potion together and found the right spell, the curse was broken and you and Sam were back in your correct bodies.

You smiled widely, hands happily and eagerly patting yourself all over. “Oh! Oh, yes! It is good to be me!”

Dean watched, chuckling lightly. “You need a room?”

“I’ll be getting to that later,” you assured him.

Sam scoffed lightly, amused at your bluntness. He only gave it a moment’s attention before he looked down at his own body to make sure everything was in place and in order.

Packing her things away, Rowena glanced at you and Sam. “You two do realise what this all means, yes?” she asked expectantly, eyes flickering from you to Sam and then back.

You paused a moment before shrugging. “That whoever cursed us had the maturity of a teenager?”

Glancing over at his brother, Sam didn’t miss the way Dean shifted ever so slightly at your comment. He had no doubt his brother was the cause for all of this. For years Dean had been teasing Sam about his crush on you, and now he could only assume he’d done the same to you. It seemed that after all that time, after trying to push you two together for so long, he’d finally given up and decided to take measures into his own hands.

I’m gonna kill him.

“Well, yes that. But do you know what else it means?” Rowena pressed, hoping you and Sam could put the pieces together.

“That we owe you?” you answered with a question of your own, not really getting what the witch was going on about.

Rolling her eyes, giving up, Rowena shook her head and lifted her bag off the table. “Yes, that’s what it means.” Sighing, she started for the stairs that lead to the Bunker’s exit.

As you followed the witch, Sam shot Dean a glare that let the older Winchester know he was busted. Not wanting to catch the full force of Sam’s anger, Dean called a quick goodbye before running to his room with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

You and Sam showed Rowena out, waiting until the door closed behind her before you both headed back down to the library. “Where did Dean go?” you asked as you took a seat in the chair you’d woken up in when in Sam’s body.

Shrugging, Sam took a seat next to you, reaching for the bottle of whiskey and two of the three glasses that sat on the table. “I don’t know. I’ll go look for him later.”

“Why? So you can kill him?” You turned to give Sam a knowing grin.

He paused, taking in the look in your eyes. “You know.”

“I knew the moment he didn’t freak that we’d swapped bodies,” you noted, taking the bottle of whiskey from him to pour the two of you a drink each. “I also knew what the curse was. Took awhile to get passed all the porn, but I eventually found the curse stuff in his browser history.”

Watching you take a sip from your drink, Sam frowned, “If you knew what the curse was, you knew how to break it… why didn’t you say something?”

“Oh, hey, Sam. So this thing happening between us is because your idiot brother decided to curse us ‘cause he thinks we’re soulmates. Turns out he’s right, and turns out the only way to end the curse is to have sex with each other… in each other’s bodies. I’ll get the condom, you throw on a nice pair of panties.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

He chuckled lightly, realising your point. The two of you liked each other, and you were obviously soulmates… but going from not sharing a kiss to having sex with each other while in each other’s bodies was a step too far.

“Your brothers an idiot,” you noted as you took another sip from your drink.

Nodding, Sam raised his own glass to his lips. “That’s one thing we can agree on,” he sighed before taking a drink.

“Still… I’m kinda glad.” When Sam looked at you confused, you shrugged. “If it wasn’t for your idiot brother I wouldn’t know how you feel about me. You wouldn’t know how I feel about you. We wouldn’t know it’s not for nothing. Which gives you every right to fuck me on this table, right here and now.”

Almost choking on his drink, Sam quickly put his glass on the table as he forced himself to swallow before he started to cough. “What?”

You reached over to put your own glass down onto the table. “I was stuck in your body for the entire day, Sam. I know what it feels like to move in it…” you grinned, “now I wanna know what it feels like when it moves in me.”

Sam’s eyes wandered over you as he recalled how it felt to be in your body without being in you the way he wanted to be. But still, he had some reservations. “What about Dean? He could walk in any second.”

“If your brother knows what’s best, he’ll hide out in his room for the next few hours. But considering he’s an idiot… if he does walk out then it’s his own fault.” You shrugged. “He’s the one that cursed us.”

“Good point.”

That’s all that was said before Sam was standing up and lifting you out of your chair. You were placed on the table as he set himself between your open legs, hands and fingers eagerly and greedily plucking at clothes. A whole day spent in each other’s bodies had built your pre existing feelings and unresolved sexual tension to breaking point… and you two were finally ready to break.

Bamby

[elane-in-the-shadows]

Red Queen Fan Fiction - Paradise Refracted Chapter 5

Warning! Contains War Storm Spoilers! Warning!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

Find this on AO3 and on wattpad

Evangeline POV

Three weeks of preparations, meetings, and discussions passed. Elane went to every one of them while I attended two or three. I still had to improve my magnetron flight, after all. I visited the raider I’d taken prisoner, Matías DeLeon, more often than those meetings.

General Farley vanished for her trip to Norta and left a sully Barrow behind who turned to challenge me in training, but wouldn’t react to prying. Maybe she already missed that moody eletricon, who did travel back to Norta. A part of me that drowned in lethargy, sometimes urged me storm at her and file away her every word, to analyze and assess their implications for Norta, for Montfort, for me. It was the scheming side of me, groomed for politics my whole life and needed much around Maven and Iris and, to be honest, every Silver. Now it was curious about what they’d left of Norta, while the rest of me was content to know that Norta was rotting.

I had no idea of the purpose of the trip, apart from the anniversary of Elara Merandus’s death, but whatever was happening there, it made things easier for me, as it did for my brother. His every step was lighter when he didn’t have to fear General Farley looming in his back.

But she came back too soon, wearing a strange confusion on her face I glimpsed when she greeted Mare upon returning. The moody white-haired electricon wasn’t with her.

Elane was reluctant to accept me pull away again from from Gisa Barrow and her girlfriend Vanessa, whom Elane had befriended. But I preferred not to meet with the rest of the family aprt from her or Mare, especially not to have the General witness me in any proximity to her daughter. So I’d refrained, yet soon I started to miss those afternoons filled with unknown recreation and the subtle diligence of creating beauty, and took part again. Gisa, Elane and I mostly worked on some design ideas for clothing while Vanessa, being a goldsmith, woke another interest in me. It was odd to watch her melt, mould, hammer and ply those tiny pieces of jewellery when I could do the same with a turn of my hand or just a thought. Did it humble her to see me in effortless metal clothing or in fights, I wondered, when in truth, I was the one feeling humble to watch her work. Vanessa was 16, dark-skinned and chubby with her hair half braided on her head, half left to curl beneath her chin. And she was also a Silver, a bloodhealer. Yet she spent her time and apprenticed to earn her living – although in a specialized field – with manual labour and perfecting skills whose necessity was dubious.

I hoped Gisa Barrow appreciated that devotion.

It was out of question that I also eschewed the ball taking place mid-November. It was the perfect occasion for Elane to wear her golden dress, finished just in time, and she was set upon preparing me as well. I was in for big surprises. Not only did she leave me oblivious about my make-up, Elane also produced one of my “old” dresses out of nowhere, the white one embroidered with small metal plates and sequins for an ombré effect that I’d already worn in Montfort on a former visit.

How?” I breathed, my fingers already gliding over the silk.

She winked. “I have to maintain my secrets, but you know, I came to Montfort with very well-assorted baggage.”

My grin widened. “And you’ll never tell me how much of my wardrobe you brought here?”

Her nonchalant expression gave nothing away. “Not that you can’t restore most of it yourself, if you desire.”

“Maybe I will, but while trying out new colours, as you do.”

“Oh?”

“I think of violet.”

“Purple.”

“What?” I frowned.

Elane’s brown eyes gleamed. “Love, you should wear a more vibrant shade than violet.”

I hmphed. “If you mean no one looks good in violet, I still want to try and prove them wrong.”

Elane‘s laughter sounded like a bell of brass. “I’ve learned that Wren and Tolly chose blue for tonight,” she said. “And rumour has it even the General will wear a dress and I have to see that.”

“Tsk. Are you aware of everyone’s outfit?”

She gasped, then bended forward to brush back my hair. “I know that every important Silver in Montfort will attend.” She was very careful to catch every hair of mine as she knew how much I despised stray ones, and placed a cap-like net over my head, fixing my hair in a way I could accept it falling free down my shoulders, but out of my face.

“Officially, this is a national holiday but its meaning is a little obscure,” Elane said. “It’s the anniversary of the battle that took the life of Greta Radis, the last Silver ruler in the north, and it resulted in her son and heir giving up his claim to their throne.

“Greta was the aunt of the current ‘lord’ Radis. For him and most important Silvers, it’s quasi mandatory to appear in Ascendant, it’s almost like an act of fealty.” Elane might retell this lightly, like news that didn’t concern us, but it was obvious it did. We, whether called exiled Nortans or new Montfortans, were expected to comply with these customs too.

“What about the cousin?” I asked after Elane’d finally lined my eyes in black and blue. I stood up and turned to the mirror, grabbing Elane at the waist and pulling her closer.

“Complementary,” she judged, as I beheld myself in cold silver and white and Elane in shining, warm gold, her red curls falling from a high ponytail, her skin shimmering, her rose pendant on display on her collarbones.

Indeed,” I agreed.

Elane sighed. “Well, the cousin. I confess, I’m not sure. He died a few years ago, apparently. There were … other family members involved with the raiders and many of them opposed the government and their former lord, to die in the subsequent years.” She swallowed, suddenly in a grave mood.

“Unsurprising,” I said, harsher than intended.

She shrugged. “Well, we’re still at war, aren’t we? As we were trained for.” I nodded grimly, I knew that too well. “However,” Elane added, “of course we’ll met Lord Radis himself tonight, to discuss the coming campaigns and our defenses.”

“You’ll have a delightful conversation, I’m sure.”

“I’m also excited to meet this wife and daughter,” Elane said. “The lord married another high-standing Monfortan Silver, a lady from the western region. And the people talk of their daughter like she was some kind of princess, which gives me the oddest impressions.”

I spun my head to her. “Am I not your only princess?” I asked coyly.

She kissed me swiftly in reply, not noticing how I balled my fists, wrinkling my dress. I didn’t know this “princess” and already I felt sorry for her, and her parents. It had been more than 20 years and Silvers like my family, like me, couldn’t stop, wouldn’t change the way we lived. Still playing for power, keeping up the façade, backstabbing and intermarrying among each other. And like in Norta, it made me sick, but also gave me a faint feeling of belonging, of a familiar ground telling me where I stood and who I was.

I wondered if my prisoner had felt the same among the raiders. He hadn’t been a raider by choice, but did he despise or long for what they pretended to preserve for our “sake”?

@clarafarleybarrow  @mareshmallow @redqueenfandom @inopinion @hannaharies @samanthaslytherin @lilyharvord @moikorolrezni @eurydicel @elliemarchetti @gisabarrovv @kihlorn @scarletguardsource @wrenskonos @silverasthedawn @maremollytitanos

[ritostorytellers]

      “Thanks for coming out here with me.”

      Sukari and Konda gently floated down to one of the small coves atop a spire outside of the village. It had been such an odd request for Sukari to ask to spend some time out here, Konda thought, especially during the Festival of Colors. But then again, this was the day to celebrate couples, and given that Hyrule had survived what could’ve been a catastrophic end to everything, she was probably eager to get to spend some special alone time with him. He knew he was. Being at the front lines only affirmed how much he truly missed his family when they weren’t around, and how much the thought of not returning home scared him.

      “Anythin’ fer you, Sweetheart.” Konda walked up and gently nuzzled the feathers on her neck. Taking his hand in hers, he guided her over to one of the walls, settling himself down on the ground. Sukari followed, and as soon as she was beside him, she let her weight press onto his shoulder. They said nothing for a while, admiring the scenery. Hyrule had never looked so beautiful. A year ago, he would’ve thought nothing of the view before them other than simply another gorgeous sunset. Yet now, the scene felt like he was experiencing a new beginning. One part of his life was ending, and with it a new chapter was beginning.

      “I love ye, Sukari.” He whispered, fearing that anything louder may shatter the serenity of the moment.

      “I love you too, Konda.” Sukari hummed, and though her words sounded genuine, her expression betrayed the serene moment.

      “What’s wrong?” Konda asked, draping a wing over his wife’s shoulder.

      “I…” She started, but hesitated once more.

      “Don’t try ta convince me that yer okay. I’ve known ye long enough ta know when ye’ve got somethin’ on yer mind.”

      Sukari chuckled. “Insightful as ever, I see. Or perhaps I’m just that easy to read.” Sukari’s eyes flitted away. “There is something that’s been on my mind. It was why I asked you to bring me out here, but… now I fear I may ruin the moment if I say it aloud.”

      “Sukari…” Konda placed his free wing on her lap. “I don’t care if it’s somethin’ that kills the mood. If it’s somethin’ that’s troublin’ ye, I don’t want ye ta hold back ta spare my feelin’s.”

      Sukari’s red eyes slowly looked up to her husband, who tried his best to give her reassurance. She could feel the lump forming in her throat. Very rarely did she ever feel this nervous around her husband, but the thoughts going through her head may brand her senile even to her husband, and she feared what his response may be.

      “Well, I…” She was struggling to figure out where to begin. “P-please keep in mind that… that this is only a thought and nothing more. I wanted solitude so we—or I, I guess—could sort through these feelings without fear of someone overhearing and spreading rumors.”

      “Huh?”

      “Had it been any other day, others would likely go prodding for info or would’ve stalked us to get some juicy gossip. But if I ask to be alone with you on the Festival of Colors, people will think that I simply want some special alone time with you. It’s the best time to talk without arousing suspicion.”

      Now Konda was starting to get on-edge. The way Sukari kept talking about keeping this a secret from the rest of the village made him only more fearful of what was about to come out of her mouth. He was so conflicted that he couldn’t even begin to imagine what was about to follow.

      “Konda… p-please don’t get mad, o-or mock me f-for what I’m about to say…”

      “Sweetie, ye know I would never mock ye.”

      With one final deep breath, Sukari clutched her fists together, finally spilling what troubled her.

      “Konda… I keep dreaming about having another child.”

      Konda blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. It took a good moment before his mind registered what she was actually asking of him. “Wait… ye wanna have another child?”

      He could tell by the way Sukari retreated inwards that his tone had been a bit harsher than he’d intended it to. He quickly tried to save the conversation. “S-sorry, Sweetie, that’s just… nae what I was expectin’ ta come out o’ yer beak…” He gave a nervous laugh. “Not gonna lie, I thought ye were gonna tell me ye killed someone or somethin’.”

      “What?!”

      “Sorry! That’s just what ye were leadin’ on!”

      “How was that the conclusion you jumped to?!”

      “I don’t know! I didn’t know what was gonna come outta yer beak!”

      “By the Goddess… you and your wild imagination, Konda, I swear…”

      “But… Children… I cannae say that I was quite expectin’ that, either…” Konda took a deep breath.

      Sukari once again shied away, on the verge of tears. “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything, it was foolish—!”

      “Nae, that’s not it! It’s just…” He took a deep breath. “As much as I’d love ta have another lil’ fledgelin’ of our own… We’re not young anymore, Sukari.”

      Sukari was still fighting back the tears that threatened to break through. “I know… I know it’s foolish, and I know it’s probably something my mind is wanting on a whim, but… I had to be honest. These thoughts have been swirling around my head since you returned from the war.”

      Sukari attempted to snuggle in closer to her husband. “I know I asked you when we first met to wait until we were older to have our first children. I wasn’t sure how cut-out I’d be for motherhood, and I wanted to be able to spend some of my life with just the two of us before we went from a couple to a family. But I’ve got to admit that, once they came, I absolutely fell in love with motherhood. I fell in love with the little family you and I created.

      “But…” Sukari paused, “as much as I loved motherhood, I couldn’t shake the fear that I wouldn’t be able to manage more than two kids while Kova and Fitch were so dependent on us. Yet once they were old enough, that was when all of those monsters started appearing, and I began fearing bringing new children into a world riddled with monsters. But now that the monsters are gone, I… I’m upset at myself that I let these fears hold me back.”

      “I don’t think it’s a bad thing.” Konda interjected. “Yer fears were well-founded. If I’m bein’ honest, I had those same thoughts. So don’t go thinkin’ ye were foolish fer havin’ ‘em. A lot o’ us had those same thoughts.”

      Sukari’s eyes darted away once again. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, a part of me is regretting that we didn’t have a bigger family. Call it baby fever or what have you, but… Our little ones aren’t little anymore. It won’t be long before they’re leaving the nest, and… and I’m not sure I’m ready for that feeling to end yet.” She took the wing on her lap and squeezed it. “I… Every day, I keep finding myself wanting to relive the best moments of our lives. I keep wanting to go on another adventure with you…”

      Konda squeezed her hand back, gently nuzzling the top of her head. “Aye, I understand where yer heart is, Sukari. I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t feel the same… but we’ve got ta take a lot into consideration before jumpin’ onto an idea like that.”

      “I know,” She said dejectedly, “Which is why I wanted to talk to you about this. I need your help to sort out these feelings I’m having. Goddess knows I haven’t been able to do it on my own.”

      “Well… I’m grateful fer yer honesty, Sukari. I don’t know if any o’ the other women in the village would’ve had the guts ta come out an’ admit this.” He gave her a gentle smile. “Ye never cease ta amaze me, love.”

      Sukari couldn’t do more than give a sheepish smile.

      “One o’ the first things we’d have ta consider is our age. Even though you an’ I are still fertile, we’re nae the youths we once were. While we might be able ta take care o’ a fledgelin’ now, will we still be able ta ten years out from now?”

      “That’s why I need you here to help rationalize this. You’re right, we don’t know where we will be in ten years, but… am I willing to let that hold me back? All I can think of is how the monster attacks have virtually vanished all across Hyrule. Nobody’s seen any monsters since the Calamity was sealed away. No moblins, no bokoblins, not even a single keese. There hasn’t even been a blood moon since the Calamity disappeared. Call it bad luck to say, but I think we truly have entered an era of peace for the first time in a long while.”

      “Since we were fledgelin’s.”

      “Wouldn’t now be the most opportunistic time to try and have children? When we don’t have to worry about the impending threat of monsters at our doorstep? You don’t need to worry about fending off their hoards while you hunt, the only thing you’d have to worry about would be the natural predators.” As those words left her beak, she began to wonder if other women in the village were having similar thoughts. Perhaps they were likely to see a boom of offspring in the near future.

      “I completely agree wit’ ye, Sweetie. But also keep in mind that the monsters gone means less fightin’, which also means less exercise.”

      “But you aren’t a warrior like the others. You’re a forager. Your strength comes not from fending off monsters, but your capability to travel to and fro with all of that heavy equipment and spoils on your back. I don’t know many other Rito who can carry as much weight as you can, Konda.”

      “Ye flatter me, Sweetie. And I suppose ye do have a point there.”

      “And I suppose that brings me to my second point, and one that coincides with your concerns: If we really did want to have another child, we’d have to have one sooner rather than later. The longer we wait, the more likely it becomes that we will be too old to raise the child properly.”

      Konda wasn’t sure he could really bring up any counter arguments to that, though he still had his qualms about if they were already too old to be considering this. Instead, he chose to move on to the next point. “An’ what about Kova an’ Fitch? If we were ta add another siblin’ ta the mix, we’d want them ta approve o’ it first. After all, if…” He swallowed, “If we did go through an’ we weren’t able ta raise the new child proper, they may try to shoulder the burden, regardless o’ whether we intended fer them to or not.” He rubbed her shoulder. “I wouldn’t want ta thrust that onto them, especially when neither one o’ them wanted it.”

      Sukari gave a weak chuckle. “Oh my goddess, I still am having trouble just imagining them potentially being parents themselves in a few years.”

      “They start courtin’ when they’re sixteen, but cannae marry until they’re eighteen.” Konda reminded her. “I suppose it’s like ye said, they’ll be leavin’ the nest before we know it.”

      “And what of the child themselves? Even if we imagine the best scenario where our children are happily wed and starting their own family, they may not have the time to help us out if we needed it… and if we get to be too frail to raise our child before they reach adulthood… That’s a lot of responsibility we’d be thrusting upon their shoulders.”

      “But… I suppose, let’s look at the other side o’ the situation. What if Kova an’ Fitch want ta have another siblin’? Sure, they’ll be significantly younger, but ye’ve seen the two o’ them around the rest o’ the village chicks—they absolutely adore them an’ love playin’ an’ takin’ care o’ them when their parents ask. I would think they’d do the same fer their own siblin’ as they do fer the other fledglin’s. An’ who knows, maybe they won’t move out right away. Ye know how strong-willed Kova is: She’s gonna be a tough one ta marry off.”

      Sukari chuckled. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

      Konda reciprocated. “Well, let’s just say the other warriors may not take kindly ta the fact that she might just have tougher nerves than them.”

      Sukari settled herself down a bit. “I also think it’s quite a blessing for us to be able to have children when we’re still this old. I hear most Hylians are unable to give birth once they reach forty. At least, not without risking the mother’s life.”

      “Aye, but Rito also live longer than Hylians, too.”

      “And we don’t carry our children the same way Hylians do.” She added. “The Rito and Zora are the only ones who lay eggs. Even then our eggs are vastly different to each other.”

      “I don’t think it’s a wise idea ta compare ourselves ta Zoras. We may live longer than Hylians, but we certainly don’t live as long as the Zora do.” He scoffed. “Hell, we’ll be pushin’ up daisies by the time the Zora reach sexual maturity.”

      Sukari giggled. “I suppose you’re right. Our way of life is so vastly different to any of the outside races, I suppose we can’t really compare ourselves at all to them.”

      “Nae,” Konda’s wing moved to Sukari’s back, “But I’m nae gonna lie, the more ye talk about it… the more I keep feelin’ like I wanna jump in on this idea.”

      Sukari’s eyes went wide. “Seriously?”

      “Seriously. I mean, what’s life without a few risks, aye?” He smirked. “But again, we shouldn’t jump ta any decisions just yet. I think you an’ I should sit on this idea, at least fer a few days, maybe a few weeks. If we’re still feelin’ serious about it, we’ll bring it up ta Kova an’ Fitch an’ see how they feel.”

      Sukari nodded. “Agreed. We need to think this through and not jump on something because I was a bit overwhelmed with emotion.”

      “We.” Konda corrected.

      Sukari giggled again. “We. Let’s keep this out on the table for now and come back to this later.”

      Konda gave another loving stroke of her back.

      “Oh, and Konda?”

      “Aye?”

      “Thank you… For taking me seriously and not brushing me off. It… it means so much more than you realize.”

      “O’ course. I wouldn’t dream o’ doin’ something so cruel ta ye.” He nuzzled the feathers atop her head. “Yer me queen, love. I wouldn’t treat ye as anything less.”

[irenemarkone]

Part Two of my sleep-deprivation fuelled angst-fic

TW: sewerslidal thoughts

He broke the kiss quickly, placing both hands by her shoulders and saying, "This isn't right."

She blinked at him and said, "Why the hell not? You had no qualms about seducing me before."

He frowned and said slowly, "Because… you don't love me. I know you don't." She smirked (he was seeing himself in her more and more and it scared him) and said, "Wasn't it you who told me 'what's that got to do with it?'"

He couldn't deny that logic.

She tugged him in for another kiss, harsher this time. He returned the kiss and as he gave an inch, she took a mile.

---

Their first few encounters were strained and almost cold, purely filling the emptiness she felt with something resembling companionship. He accommodated her in every way he could because he couldn't imagine losing her after all this.

He kissed her, he held her, she made it so he could feel what she needed and he always did his best. She always left right after, never lingering in his arms for long. He supposed it was best for her, but each time, he found himself wishing she would stay.

He wished he could tell her, but he knew she would hate him for it. Sometimes he felt her probing, and it was all he could do to keep her out.

Being with her felt like ecstasy, but when he remembered how it came to be, the scarce bits of positivity vanished and left behind a hollow sort of sadness. Now that he could have her, every part of him begged for her, but deep down he knew that she didn't want him the same way. He knew he was a distraction, but he could never refuse her.

Slowly, their encounters grew warmer, and their walls began to fall. She let him hold her for longer afterwards, staring listlessly at the void as he made it his task to cover her body in gentle kisses. He tried his best to show her what he couldn't say, with soft caresses and eagerness. He tried not to say anything at all, in fears that she'd remember herself and who she was with, or simply that he would mess up. If he did let something slip, it was always her name, gasped or sighed or moaned.

He was careful to keep it that way over the course of the next million years, but she always made it difficult. "Q" never sounded better than when she said it. Her touches were like lightning, when she decided to touch him at all. She was art and music (melancholy as it may be) and beauty and strength, all in one. The small bit of sensation she allowed herself to feel shone from her like sunlight, and he basked in it.

It was only when she came to him and kissed him slowly, cradling his face in her hands and filling the space around them with the soft glow of contentment, that he finally let it slip. He had broken the kiss and let his mouth wander along her jawline when he caught himself muttering against her skin, "You'll be my undoing, Kathy-"

If she thought anything he said was odd, she didn't betray it besides the slightest of pauses before she tilted her head back. He laid a heavy kiss over her pulse(?) and given her silence, he thought nothing of it.

Moments later, with her legs draped over his shoulders and her hands buried in his hair, she grew curious and probed for his feelings. She was taken aback by the adoration that filled his actions, so much so that she overlooked the remorse and the guilt. It wasn't long before she ignored the physical feelings entirely and probed deeper, reading his thoughts and even living through them like a holonovel.

She didn't know what she expected, but she certainly hadn't expected to hear 'I love you' in so many ways. She saw all the times they'd been together, even some instances before she was Q, only he thought of telling her every time. She dug even deeper and felt it for herself, and it was genuine, although it was twisted and confused from an eternity of not feeling anything at all.

She withdrew from his thoughts like something had burned her, shoving him away with wide eyes. A split second of confusion flashed across his face before he realized what she did, but she didn’t stay long enough for him to call after her.

She didn’t find him again for a couple million years, and for once, he felt every miserable second of it.

---

Kathryn had forgotten just how much change could happen in a million years, and when she went back to exploring, she found that almost everything was different. The human race had gone extinct. She was surprised to find that she didn’t want to look back and see what had happened.

She left the Milky Way and rediscovered some of the worlds she had lived on, seeing the races she’d befriended had evolved or gone extinct. She simply befriended the new ones.

She hated how much of Q she heard in her own voice, so for a couple hundred years she hid in the Continuum, playing the role of the scarecrow, the truck, even the road and the sun that burned in the sky without end. Now more than ever, she could understand why Quinn had wanted to die. She couldn’t fathom how one could spend eternity like this; she hardly even felt pain anymore. The only thing that came close was the dull ache left behind whenever she remembered her crew, and even that was slipping away. She went back out into the universe and found another species to aide, trying desperately to find some small fragment of purpose again.

Whenever she didn’t quite feel like showing herself for a millenia or two, she spent the time conjuring stars and scattering nebulas through space, creating beautiful sights but never life. She crafted entire galaxies, star by star, watching them turn in the void before holding them in her hands and vanishing them with a thought.

When she finally showed herself, she was always benevolent, refusing to toy with lower lifeforms like the other Q had done. She solved some of their problems but never allowed herself to get attached.

She filled entire corners of the universe with wondrous stars and anomalies, braiding the fabric of space and undoing it just to do it all again. Time slipped by with her hardly noticing the centuries, but at the same time she felt every minute pass with agonizing clarity. Time was also beginning to be a bit of a nuisance, so she spent another million years mastering it.

She explored every aspect of existence itself, down to the most minute detail, until one day(?) she realized there was nothing left to explore. She wandered around in denial, thinking that surely there must be something left, but over the course of another century her fears were confirmed. She'd mastered it all.

For a couple dozen years, she even tried to kill herself. She knew that if a veteran Q like Quinn couldn't manage it, then she couldn't possibly hope to, but now all she had was time so she reasoned that it couldn't hurt to try.

She hurled herself into a blackhole only to come out completely unscathed. She teleported into the center of a supernova, turned into a microbe and found some antimatter to smack around, and even provoked a species calling themselves the God-Killers. Nothing did the slightest bit of harm (not even the God-Killers, but there was no real surprise there.)

She gave up after trying everything she could, spending a century floating aimlessly between galaxies. She would have felt hopeless if she could feel anything at all.

---

She found Q in the Continuum, sitting on the steps to the front porch and staring out at the road. He had foregone his usual Starfleet uniform, dressed instead in a drab tan suit with a green tie. It took her a little by surprise, seeing him fit into a landscape rather than defy it. It was almost sad.

She stepped closer and said with a bit of the smirk (that she couldn't muster the hatred for), "I've got to admit, the uniform wasn't half bad, but green makes you almost look dashing." He looked up at her before she sat down next to him, and said with a hint of a smile in his eyes, "Who are you and what have you done with my beloved Kathy?"

A small smile spread across her face. She hated to admit it, but she'd missed talking to someone who didn't revere her as a god. It made her feel almost human again, and as that thought occurred to her, her smile faded.

"Did you mean it, Q?"

His smile dimmed, and he looked back out at the road as he answered, "Wasn't it you who observed that I might be a lot of things, but I'm no liar?" They sat in silence for a minute (or an hour or a decade, time was slippery in the Continuum) before he said with a dreadful lack of theatrics, "I meant it. I still mean it, as much as it pains me to admit."

She rested her elbows on her knees and said, "I don't know if I love you. I don't even know if I still can." He nodded slowly and began to say something but she interjected, holding up a finger and saying, "I'm not finished." He nodded again and let her continue.

"But being with you… is truly the closest thing to normal anymore." She chuckled a bit at her own statement and said, "Imagine, calling anything to do with you 'normal'. I never thought I'd live to see the day."

She paused for a second(?), staring at the road and counting the molecules in the space in front of her before saying, "I might not love you… but I'll be damned if I lose the only person I can be around anymore."

A small smile snuck its way onto his face and he said, “I can definitely live with that, for now.” If she could feel the minute bit of melancholy in his voice, she didn’t show it. She simply smirked and said, “Don’t test your luck.”

---

Kathryn was different.

Q knew it would have been foolish to expect nothing to change. It was only natural, after all, for a person who had been so unceremoniously gifted (ha) omnipotence. But she reminded him more and more of himself, and for the first time, he could almost understand why humans had found him so frustrating.

She was infinitely more nihilistic than she'd ever been, smothering the emptiness under sarcasm and searing kisses. The Indiana lilt never truly left her voice, but her whispered promises and wagers were refined with a silver tongue that easily rivalled his.

She grew bored more and more easily, sometimes spending millions of years at a time in the Continuum just to see what changes would await her once she left. This game quickly grew tiring, however, because with omnipotence she found that she already knew, even before she looked. She'd look anyway, occasionally making herself known to the civilizations that arose there. Despite Q's urging that it would be infinitely more fun, she refused to lord over them, still clinging to the last shreds of her humanity. He loved her for it.

She had always been the perpetual ice queen but where before there was warmth behind her eyes, there was nothing but a reflection of time and space. She braided starlight into the copper hair of her corporeal form, soared through the void as if it had always been her home, but there was an odd detachment in everything she did.

She gave herself the duty of protecting life (although Q argued that life was insignificant), and earned the gratitude of so many systems. It wasn't long before he joined her in her visits, causing his usual amount of mischief and getting a rise out of her. She was careful to make sure these encounters never turned into a tug of war where there might be collateral damage, but Q seemed intent on pushing her buttons.

Q had experience, countless lifetimes more than Kathryn did, but if he was an unstoppable force, she was an immovable object. However, their squabbles never went past playful banter and the occasional flung anomaly, and in the end, he always stole a kiss.

But there was always something off. When he held her, she felt almost hollow. Her thoughts and feelings were tainted by her ever-present grief, and no matter what she said when they were alone, he knew that if she had the choice, she would have died along with her crew. He could see it in the way she watched life down on the planets: she envied them. She envied mortality.

He told her he loved her almost every day (second? century?) and while she had begun to say it back, whether it be muttered against his cheek or thought to him as they watched the galaxies turn, he couldn't believe her. She felt nothing for him outside something resembling friendship, and it was beyond his extensive powers of imagination to think otherwise.

He supposed that he should have felt lucky to earn her friendship in the first place, but along with the desperate selfish part of him that always wanted more, another part mourned with her.

Occasionally she still asked him to hold her, and of course he could never refuse her anything, but he couldn't help but think that he never wanted it to happen like this.

He always thought that one day he'd arrive back on Voyager, possibly after she'd found a way home despite the crushing odds, and after some witty banter he'd ask her to dinner. Or maybe she'd ask him for help with some dilemma (unlikely) or she'd just want to talk (even more unlikely).

As much as he jested, as much as he'd flung Starfleet ships into the furthest reaches of what they knew, he'd quite forgotten how oddly fragile humanity was.

They stood in the void, watching the galaxies Kathryn had conjured. Q absent-mindedly wrapped his arms around her, and she leaned into his touch and relaxed with a ghost of a sigh. Her melancholy washed over him and he didn't fight it.

[conalldonnacha]

Conall “Donnacha” Kilmartin

DoB: 29 September Age: 52 Pronouns: She/her Sexuality: Not anyone’s business Zone: 2 Employment: CHQS Zone 2 Director Personality: Gentle, restrained, calming to be around | withdrawn, sharp-tongued, vicious (situationally)

Bio:

The hard world of zone 2 has made everyone Conall has ever known a hard, hollow soul. Much the same was expected of her as she grew up. Her family was neither powerful nor capable, the gang they ran with was middling at best, frequently suffering heavy losses to lives and territories. For a brief moment, her uncle served as a unifying leader, temporarily gaining them ground and resources, but even this eventually flagged. Life took its toll, and it would have been too easy for Conall to follow, but much to the mystery of everyone who knew her, she didn’t. As a young man, her voice remained as tender as it had been when she was a toddler, her hair remained long and uncut, somehow silken and free of tangles. As a boy, she had once found a tiny flower growing in between some toppled bricks. Picking it seemed too cruel, but the consideration was wasted. Her brother found it and stomped it to pieces.

You cannot be gentle without fear. Conall has long adorned herself with flowers, accessorized with the nicer greenery. Her brother, however, learned a peculiar lesson after 3 months of explicable rashes on his legs. It only occurred to him what the cause might be when the rashes suddenly faded around the same time Conall was moved from laundry duty to hunting. A lesson long taught yet unforgotten until the day her brother died. Every lesson she’s had to teach since has been done in a similar way. Those who have witnessed her violence directly (mostly animals, but not entirely) have not lived to divulge the experience. Conall’s particular style of close combat is not without its consequences. The mysterious wounds she sometimes sports are a better indicator of the fate of a troublemaker than their sudden and unexplained absence.

Leadership is neither something she aspires to nor rejects, it simply comes as a consequence of demanding respect. Quite by accident, she eventually rose to the same position her uncle had once held, and held it for longer. Without the greedy aggression that drove others to careless territory and resource grabs, the moves she directed were more careful, controlled, and intentional. More likely to succeed. As a consequence, Conall taught many that more was not always better, that strategy often prevailed. Those who did not learn the lesson simply ceased to be, their absence largely unremarked upon.

Resources are not uncommon in zone 2, it’s simply a matter of learning how to extract them. Though she would not know the word “botanist” for many more years, her interest in the natural world served as a boon to those who followed her. Conall was quick to discover those plants whose nuts could be ground into protein-rich meal when meat was scarce, the berries whose flavors best preserved meat into the harsher months. It was this exact knowledge that gave her pause the day she found a sapling she did not recognize.

Small and struggling, it had produced a single fruit, a vibrant yellow hardly seen in anything but the flowers she privately cultivated. It felt a shame to take it, but curiosity overcame. The juice inside stung a cut on her hand from an early encounter with a deer, and though the taste was tart, it was tempered by a vibrant sweetness. The flesh was pulpy and soft and stuck in her teeth, and though it felt familiar to some small pitiful fruits she tended to avoid, it was exceptional and unusual in every way. And there was only one.

Over the months, Conall kept a close eye on the small tree. Hunting expeditions curiously stopped moving into that area, the small patch of forest almost entirely forgotten with time. One day, as she dropped in to visit her charge, Conall observed two small flower buds on one branch. Over the next several days, they bloomed into small white flowers with thin, curled petals. The scent of them recalled the fruit the tree had previously born.

And then one day, one of the blossoms was gone.

Determined to find the culprit and furious at the fate of her precious ward, Conall spent countless hours in hiding, observing the tree, waiting. But nothing changed. In time, she would come to realize there was no hope of catching CHQS security in the act, but at the time, the not knowing was infuriating like nothing had ever been. But what could she do?

She could move the tree.

More so than anything before, securing a safe place to cultivate the tree required a flex of her social prowess, but in a few days, she had acquired an abandoned building in which to hide her treasure. A few individuals hankering to prove their loyalty as a response to some recent wrath asked no questions of their new assignment. With incredible caution and practiced hands, the small fruit tree was stolen away to a new location, where Conall observed that it looked rather lonely by itself.

Acquiring more plants to cultivate alongside the tree also provided a good cover story. It was unreasonable to dedicate bodies to the care of a pet project. But to safeguard resources? That was another story. She was quick to fill the abandoned building with the most useful of local vegetation, pleased to find that the large glass windows created a welcoming environment and encouraged growth. The guards protecting the new project never noticed when the tree went missing, but it haunted Conall for months.

Even if the original purpose of her garden had mysteriously vanished, the benefits of her new undertaking could not be denied. Resources were more plentiful than ever before and questions soon faded, her people hesitant to doubt a good thing. Though thoughts of the fruit tree followed her, Conall dedicated newfound energy into her garden.

When the recruiter found her, it was hard to say whether Conall was terribly surprised. An explanation and feigned apology were offered for the missing tree - a Meyer lemon tree from zone 3 - but more useful than this, she was offered an opportunity.

Conall didn’t care much for the kitchens in Convergence, overrun with unfamiliar things and foods she did not recognize. The gardens, however… plants she recognized from her home, dying and failing in the dead soils, began to flourish under her care. Balancing the needs of a new job with the care of her people was… difficult, to say the least, but Conall eventually found a balance, using her time at Convergence to absorb as much as possible about the new worlds she had been exposed to. For years, she cultivated food for the kitchens at Convergence while maintaining power over her people, leading them to historic levels of wealth and comfort. It was when her clan was engaged in a border skirmish near CHQS that pulled her away from work that management really paid attention to her. Yet another opportunity presented itself.

Retirement isn’t much of a concept in zone 2, as lives rarely last so long. But with Conall’s rise through the ranks of CHQS, it was hardly possible to maintain leadership in two places at once. So she chose. A lackluster replacement stepped up while Conall “retired” to a quiet life, afforded dignity and privacy. The clan quickly flagged without her guidance, but a new calling drew her attention, and her pity died quickly. Though it took years of dedication and quiet competence, Conall eventually rose to the rank of director. The process of learning the subtle manipulations of the corporate world have provided Conall with an entirely new set of social skills, something that has been quite fun to play with. She still personally oversees cultivation of zone 2 produce, though the kitchen staff are well aware of her affinity for lemon bars.

Headcanons:

Much to the great mystery of everyone else, Conall is always in some way adorned with flowers. Whether woven into her long hair, sewn into her clothes, or embellished into her belongings, they are a recurring theme. Even when they are only motifs, a faint scent is ever-present, ever-changing, and always gently floral.

“Donnacha” is actually her first name, but it is a precious one spoken only to her by only a few individuals throughout her many years. Very few know it and those that do have been made acutely aware of how much they ought to forget it.

Generally speaking, she’s quite lovely to be around. Calm and soft-spoken, her presence puts most at ease. The exception is when she has not been heard or obeyed. Though her calm nature rarely changes, her sharp tongue puts many to rights immediately. Any lingering rebellion or disobedience dies readily at her practiced hands, though this is a process she allows few to witness.

The fastest way into her good graces is with a lemon bar.

Though she cultivates a variety of zone 2 flora, the flowers that constantly adorn her are harvested from the wilds around her home. Somehow it doesn’t feel the same to grow flowers, she’d rather find the beauty of her own world through her own efforts. Plus, it seems cruel to grow something only to kill it.

Though a shrewd leader who scarcely reveals her motivations, her corporate climb at Convergence is not without its purpose. She recognizes the growing instability of her world and hopes to one day have a hand in changing its fate.

Though capable of great violence, she rarely exercises that power. Her power comes most from the respect her manipulations earn her, second from the relationships she forms with people who have no qualms with causing great bodily harm to others.

Her pronouns are something she was given as a child out of spite. Seen initially as weak and incompetant, her brother and uncle mocked her by feminizing her. It was hardly an insult however, as the people in her clan she most admired were the women whose hunting, gathering, and cooking sustained everyone. Though unusual, she embraced the feminine for the rest of her life, especially appreciative of how often it causes others to underestimate her.

Important people:

(UNNAMED), a security guard-turned-manager who has risen through the ranks with her over the years. For every ounce of her quiet calm, they are equally aggressive and quick to anger, and manipulative to boot. Much her gruntwork is carried out by this person, whom she lavishes with positive affirmations and personal flower gifts. The relationship is reciprocal, and those problems they can’t solve with violence, Conall solves for them.