#bright day would turn to night my love the elements would mourn if ever i proved false to you the seas would rage and burn

[47-protons]

many thoughts head full yet so devastatingly empty (< my brain is going about a billion miles per hour and i cannot slow it down enough to put any of the thoughts into any type of coherent statement) ((it is flicking wildly back and forth between q/smp and usmp. like if you took a metronome and set it to like a billion BPM.))

I have never frantically edited a post faster to put a slash between four letters

[creweemmaeec11]

My favourite prompts:

A list of my favourite prompts that I’ve posted in the past, all curated into a huge list just for you guys!

1

Finally, the day has come. The villain is thought to be dead. The hero has won.

Until suddenly the hero learns the villain left them EVERYTHING in their will. Made them the owner and operator of all their illegal business.

Obviously, the hero plans to shut everything down immediately. But they quickly realize just how many people the villain employed… how many family’s they fed…

2

“You kissed me,”

“I did… and?”

“What-!? What do you mean and!?,”

“What more do you want?”

“An explanation would be a good start!”

“…or I could just do it again…”

*other person turns bright red,*

“Or… or that, I suppose,”

3

“What the hell are you doing here!?”

“I think the better question would be what in the hell are you wearing,” the villain replied, amusement clear on their face, like they were struggling to keep from laughing.

“What- it’s-” the hero blushed, remembering what they were wearing, “their pajamas! What are you-!”

“Oh my god…” the villain replied, like they were struggling to come to terms with what they were seeing, “the hero of the city not only own, but wears a onesie,”

“Excuse me!” The hero snapped in defence, “They’re comfortable!”

“They? You have more??”

4

“I gotta say hero,” The villain mused as they casually moved toward the cell bars, “I’ve been called many things in my life: monster, villain, outcast, loser, scoundrel,” they tilted their head, examining the hero before them, “but ‘our last hope?’” *clicks tongue* “that’s a first,”

5

You live in a world where anyone born with superpowers must become a super hero. It doesn’t matter what the power is, or how small it is, it is mandatory. It was deemed that having anyone with superpowers work alongside regular people was “unsafe” and “unfair.” Every year, dozens of superhero’s with powers useless for fighting are killed. You’ve managed to make it this long with nobody finding out you have a superpower. But how much longer can you hide in plain sight?

6

The city’s villain mysteriously disappears and hasnt been seen in a week. The people are celebrating, but the hero is worried. What if the villain is planning something big? Determined to stop whatever evil plan is brewing, the hero tracks the villain down, but they dont find what they expected. Instead of evil plotting, the villain:

-Has been taking care of a sick pet -Come down with the flu -Been helping arrange a friends wedding -Found out they were pregnant -Is getting married themselves -Mourning the death of a loved one -Has adopted a young pet and been occupied taking care of them -Has been helping one of their lackeys who’s in a desperate situation -Has been feeding the homeless and offering blankets

7

You’re the most wanted villain by all highest ranking authorities, but all the heros “just can’t seem to catch you” (they always let you get away) because all your crimes are things like stealing expensive medication and then donating it to hospitals, robbing toy stores and donating to orphanages, robbing banks and giving to charity, robbing grocery stores and feeding the homeless, ect

8

A hero/villain with the power to materialize their own tattoos. Got a wrench tattoo? Now you’ve got a wrench. Got a tattoo of wings? A bomb? A get away car? Well…

Dragon tattoos have always been popular, havent they?

9

Write about a genius inventor villain who, while watching the news, learns about a sick child in hospital doctors arnt sure they can cure. The villain realizes something theyve invented could cure the child. Now the hard part is convincing them to let the villain help.

10

The villain starts to notice the hero is feeling more down the usual, so they start leaving the hero little notes to cheer them up. All is going well until the hero figures out who is sending them.

11

In a world of magic users where everyone is divided into the 6 eye colours, and the colour of your eyes represents what your powers are. Each colour has an elemental power, can talk to a certain type of creature(Invertebrates, fish, amphibians, reptiles, birds, mammals), and has 3 other powers. For example, blue eyes control water, can commune with fish, etc. Everyone in the world has either red, orange, yellow, green, blue or purple eyes. Except for you, you were born with black eyes. Everyone is afraid of what your powers will be, but they should be more worried about the kind of creatures you can talk to…

12

A hero and a villain (and maybe their sidekicks, up to you) trapped in a haunted house or haunted location.  

-One is scared so the other comforts them. They are both scared but trying to act like they aren’t. -One doesn’t believe in ghosts, and the other has the power to communicate with them or see them. -Ghosts aren’t real, but one continues to try and freak the other out, who claims they aren’t scared. -Ghost wingman. I need’ d say no more -One gets possessed, so the other has to do the whole ‘kiss to break a curse’ thing to bring them out of it. -The classic Person A thinks ghosts aren’t real so they prank Person B to scare them. Then shit gets real, but person B doesn’t believe person A, thinking its just another prank.

13

“I trusted you! You promised!”

“I kept my promise! I got you your results! Don’t question my methods from a top that high moral horse or yours, especially when the only reason you made a deal with me in the first place was because you were too much of a coward to do what needed to be done!”

14

The local wildfire has been growing out of control, forcing the city to have to evacuate. Suddenly, the villain with water powers shows up to lend a hand to fire fighters.

15

“Tell me hero,” the villain spoke, chains jangling from where they hung on the villains wrists as they walked up to the bars of the jail cell, “If you wanted to skip a press conference, could you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re sisters getting married, but your needed for a big event at the hero academy that day. Would you be allowed to attend the wedding? What about if your brother stole a pack of gum. Could you let it slide? Not would you, but could you?”

The hero paused. Could they? They had responsibilities! They had commitments to the city, and to the serving of justice!

The villain laughed at the heros silence, “I may be in jail, but you’re more chained then I’ll ever be,”

16

“So tell me,” the villain drawled, dragging a finger across the heros skin, making them shiver, “what changed your mind?”

17

Hero discovers the villain has a day job. It isnt at all what they expected. (Day care, animal shelter, etc)

18

“What are you going to do if you beat me, and suddenly the city dosent need a hero? What are you going to do if you get hurt and can no longer fight, and the city forgets about you just like all the heros before you? Who will you be when your legacy crumbles under the weight of all those who follow? Will you take up knitting?”

The hero stared unblinking and frozen as the villain took a step forward.

“Sure, your a hero. But what are you without that?”

The villain took another step forward.

“Your nothing, heroism is all you have. That pathetic title you curl up to every night. But without it?” They looked the hero up and down, “Absolutely nothing…”

19

A villain retires from villainy and gets plastic surgery (or simply never showed their face) so they can live a normal life without being recognized. While living their new life, they bump into the hero, and the two start falling for eachother. But the villain is terrified of the hero finding out the truth

20

The hero slammed their front door as quickly as they could, eyes wide, heart pounding.

The villain. The villain was outside their door.

“Well that was rude,”

21

A hero with magic powers, in a world where magic is unheard of. They have always kept their powers a secret, fearing they would be shunned, or tested on. They never use their powers in battle.

One day, while practicing their magic alone in the woods, the villain appears out of nowhere. 

Before the hero can explain, the villain asks, “you have powers too?”

22

A hero dies. Or at least, they think they do. The next thing they know they wake up at their own funeral. And the only person there? Is the villain.

23

“The worst part, is you had the nerve to call it love”

[fl0ating-tree]

Fanfic prompt: everyones first visit to Dream in the prison (specifically Puffy, Sapnap, Punz, George, and/or Niki)

OOH i really hope we get to see these actually happen because my heart is gonna snap when it does happen. im gonna do george + sapnap and puffy bc this would be super long if I did them all. 

george is probably OOC because we don’t really have an example of how he is when he’s in character. also fair warning for puffy’s part, it might come off as a little c!dream sympathetic. that’s not the intention, it’s more to show how even dream still has emotions even thought he’s awful, but if that stuff really upsets you maybe don’t read puffy’s part. it’s barely there but still. 

George and Sapnap

Sam rarely stood guard outside of the prison. After all, it’s inescapable and he’s the only one with access. After locking Dream away Sam reassured them all that he built safety features in that no one but him, not even Dream, knew about. Sapnap called him paranoid when Sam told him that over lunch one day, now he couldn’t be more thankful.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Sam asks as he leads both Sapnap and George towards the only occupied cell. “He’s...he’s not exactly fun to be around at the moment.” Sapnap cringes at that. He feels bad that Sam is the one who has to bring Dream food and water, but no one else was particularly jumping at the opportunity to be around Dream after what happened. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget Punz’s panicked urges for him to find anyone on the server and meet up at the Nether hub. How Punz led them through the Nether in full sprint, giving them all the vague explanation of “Dream is going to kill Tubbo and lock up Tommy” and nothing else. Sapnap wouldn’t have believed him if he didn’t walk in on Dream laughing at a despondent Tommy, holding a sword to Tubbo’s neck. Seeing the walls lined in trophey cases labeled for his friends and allies belongings (and even loved ones, was Dream really going to put Skeppy in a cage just to get to Bad?) 

“Sapnap?” Sam asks again after Sapnap doesn’t respond. 

“Yeah, sorry,” Sapnap shakes his head and continues walking, glancing at George to his left, “I’m sure.” George says nothing and continues walking. He hasn’t said anything since he logged on asking where Dream was. It took an hour of nearly everyone on the server telling George what happened for him to believe it. Even after everything Dream had done, George was still loyal to a fault. 

“George?” Sapnap presses and George’s shoulder stiffen.

“I need to see him for myself,” George says flatly and Sam and Sapnap share a look before continuing down the halls. Sam brings them through locked doors, redstone contraptions, pad locks after pad locks and at some points he even has George and Sapnap be blindfolded so they can’t see the inner workings. Sapnap was worried, as were others, that Sam would betray them and simply let Dream escape. But the fury in Sam’s eyes when he saw the cage built for Fran, when he heard Dream blew up the Community House, that squashed any thoughts of betrayal still lingering. 

“Wait here,” Sam tells them and Sapnap can smell redstone lighting and pistons firing before Sam’s now muffled voice calls out to them. “You can take off the blindfolds now,” he calls and they both do.

Before them is a large blackstone box, the wall between the cell and the corridor being made of obsidian enforced glass (Sapnap didn’t even know that was possible to make until Sam told him about it.) It was well lit and inside the cell was a decent looking bed, a door in the far corner presumably leading to a bathroom, a desk with papers and blunt markers, a round table with only one chair, and lastly, Dream. All things considered the cell was nice, nicer than Dream deserved, but Dream himself looked terrible. His mask was gone, destroyed by Tommy, and it made him so...human. Out of the corner of his eye Sapnap could see George studying Dream as well. His clothes were disheveled, deep bruises still on his face from his fight with Tommy and Tubbo, and where there was a normally calm and sophisticated aura surrounding him, Sapnap saw nothing but unjustified anger. 

“You’ve got visitors,” Sam says unnecessarily from where he stands by the lever to open the cell. George flinches at how detached Sam sounds. The normally kind and bright man sounded almost disappointed in Dream. 

“Yay me,” Dream snaps back, it’s Sapnap who flinches this time.

“You two wanna go in, or just talk through the glass?” Sam asks and Sapnap looks to George for an answer. He doesn’t give an answer, only stepping closer to the glass. Dream leans up from his relaxed position on the bed, intrigued. 

“I’ve gotta say Gogy this is probably the biggest thing you’ve slept through yet,” Dream teases, his voice friendly and open and Sapnap hates how badly it makes him want to break Dream out of this terrifying prison and pretend like nothing bad has ever happened.

“Were you really going to kill Tubbo?” George asks, voice quiet and void of emotion.

“Why do you care?” Dream growls, and Sapnap remembers why he can’t pretend like this is the Dream from months ago that he built the community house with, “You never gave a fuck about what was happening before, why do you care now? Cause Sapnap told you to care?” The mockery in Dream’s voice builds tension in George’s shoulders.

“He’s 17, Dream,” George’s voice is thick and Sapnap takes a step forward, having his own questions for Dream. 

“Why did you do any of it?” Sapnap asks, “Taking everything everyone loves? Controlling Tommy, trying to kill Tubbo, why did you do it?” 

“None of you get it!” Dream screams and even Sam jumps in surprise, “This is my server! I’m in control here, not Tommy, not Tubbo, no one but me!” Seeing Dream this...lost, this out of his element, without the mask is unsettling. His face is too raw, too many emotions on display from the man Sapnap always knew as calm and collected and one step ahead. Sapnap turns away, not baring to see his once best friend so far gone. 

“I’ve seen enough,” Sapnap tells Sam quietly, and the man nods. He guides Sapnap towards the exit, the two of them glancing back when George doesn’t follow. Dream seems to notice as well.

“Not gonna follow them Gogy?” He laughs, crazed and maniacal and hauntingly similar to a certain dead president. 

“You don’t get to call me that,” George snaps, voice fierce and shoulders tense. “You lost the right to call me that a long time ago.” 

The three of them say nothing else as Sam leads them out of the prison, even as Dream’s screams echo down the hallway and echo in their minds for the rest of the night. 

Captain Puffy

It started out as a joke, if Puffy was being honest. Dream had followed her around one day, carrying extra supplies for her, listening to stories of her old pirate adventures, and helping her with her daily tasks. She’d later find out that he was having a really terrible week, stressed from events he wouldn’t disclose (she’d later find out about those “events” as well, to her disgust) and not wanting to talk to anyone but needing something to occupy himself. Puffy joked around, calling him her “duckling” and let him continue doing it. It helped her and him, so she found no harm in it.

Months passed with their small routine. Dream would have a bad day or simply not want to be around the others (Puffy would, again, find out later that it was more that others didn’t want to be around him) so he would follow her around, helping out with her daily tasks or just spending the day with her. It reminded her so much of one of the younger boys on her long abandoned crew, cured a small amount of homesickness, and slowly it became less of a joke and more of a true friendship. The day Dream slipped up and called her mom, even thought she’s only two years older, used to be one of her favorite memories. Emphasis on used to be. 

She was hesitant when she heard rumors of Dream’s villainy. This was Dream they were talking about, the kind guy who came to her when he had a bad day and helped her with anything she asked. She saw him build up those walls around L’manberg, and she heard the murmurs of how he wouldn’t let anyone go see Tommy in his exile, but she passed them off as hyperbolic or flat out lies. She wonders if she was more attentive to what Dream was doing could she have prevented some of this pain. She doesn’t think she’ll ever recover from seeing Dream, her duckling, seconds away from killing a child and further traumatizing another. 

“We’re here,” Sam tells her solemnly as she hears pistons move and unties her blindfold. She could care less about how the cell looked, or how impressive the redstone was. All she could focus on was Dream, standing close to the glass, looking terrible. His mask was gone, showing his emotions clear as day. His eyes screamed sadness and anger and betrayal all in one. His hair was tangled and there was still some blood matted in it from where Tommy had fought him. His shirt was wrinkled and he didn’t even have any shoes. He was simply stood looking heartbroken and entirely human in this cell and it took ever ounce of willpower in Puffy to not cry to Sam to let him out. He looks nothing like the monster who manipulated and controlled others, he looked like her Dream, her duckling, her friend. 

“Dream...” Puffy starts but the words die on her tongue. 

“Puffy, please,” Dream starts and without the mask she can see tears welling in his eyes, “I know it looks bad but you know how bad these past months have been for me, you’ve always been there for me, you have to understand.” 

“I don’t...” the air in the room feels suffocating, “Dream I saw it with my own eyes. I saw it with my own eyes. How could you?” She watches as anger overrides Dream’s eyes but a mournful look still stays on his face.

“Puffy, Cara, you know me,” Puffy can’t hold back her sob when Dream uses her real name. The only other person she told that was Niki, and after their recent fight over what to do with Tommy, Puffy really didn’t want to think about Niki right now. “You know I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t have a reason. I’m doing what’s right, I’m making sure there’s no more fighting. You’re smart, you know me, I wouldn’t do this.” 

Puffy looks at Sam who looks an awful combination of guilty, furious, and depressed. Sometimes she forgets Sam has been here since the beginning. She wonders if Dream has always been evil, if he was always this manipulative, in the beginning. 

“When you would help me,” Puffy starts, still not looking at Dream, “when you were my duckling, was that just a cover? Was that just you trying to use me, too?” She turns back to meet Dream’s eyes, the mask no longer there to hide the way his eyes scream that he’s lying. His face is a dead give away for what he’s doing, Puffy wonders if that’s why he always wore the mask. 

“No, Cara,” Dream lies through his teeth, “I’d never use you, I promise. You have to believe me.” 

The three of them stand in silence, Dream leaning on the glass with fake tears in his eyes and real tears in Puffy’s. Sam is deathly quiet in the corner of the room, watching and not intervening. Puffy can’t tell if she appreciates that or not. What she can tell is that she can’t stand to look at Dream another minute. 

“I really did care about you, Dream,” she wipes her tears on her sleeve and turns to Sam, “I’m done.” Sam just nods and leads Puffy towards the exit. 

“Puffy, please! I wouldn’t do this, don’t you see it!” Dream pleads, voice morphing from sorrow to anger, “I did what I had to! Puffy listen to me! CARA!” 

Sam still says nothing as he sets a steadying hand on Puffy’s shoulder as she sobs, guiding her out of the prison and away from her duckling. 

[starryviolentine]

Color Me Blue (That’s Me Without You): A Pre-Apocalypse Story

Part 1 (here)     Part 2 (here)     Part 3 (here) Part 4 (here)     Part 5 (here)     Part 6 (here) Part 7 (here)     Part 8 (here)     Part 9 (here)

Part 10/10: Special Delivery

Another school week has come and gone, and the students of Ericson Academy have finally reached the weekly checkpoint that everyone looks forward to the most—the weekend. After five straight days of lessons, homework and responsibilities, the one day per week when there’s no schedule, nowhere to be, and nothing but unstructured fun and relaxation is here at last. The sun is shining, the air is crisp, and, according to the weather forecast, later in the day it should be warm enough to play outside without a jacket. What a beautiful Saturday morning indeed. 

Sundays are different. There are mandatory chores in the morning and extracurriculars scheduled all throughout the afternoon. Students aren’t allowed to use the gym or the outdoor fields unless they have sports practice, nor can they set foot inside the creative arts building unless they have an art or music lesson.

But that’s a worry for tomorrow.

Today is still Saturday. For Therissa, this means snoozing until noon, then lazing around in bed with only her phone and CD player to keep her company until she feels like getting up. As for Brody and Violet, the two younger girls have been out and about all morning and are now on their way back to their bedroom to drag their teenage roommate out to lunch. After some complaining and a bit of colorful language on Therissa’s end, the three of them head down to the dining hall to grab a bite to eat, and then, when they’re done, return to their room to hang out. 

Separately, usually. Therissa likes to do her own thing, and most of the time it’s just Brody and Violet doing stuff together. Once in a blue moon, though—if all the stars and the planets align just right and Therissa is in a good mood—Brody can convince her to join them. And today, much to the twin-tailed tween’s delight, is one of those days.

Tonight, they’re going to have a campout. Or, rather, a camp “in” due to the lack of a tent, a campfire, s’mores, and the whole outdoors element that are all fundamental to a typical night of camping. Nonetheless, Brody and Violet move their mattresses to the middle of the bedroom floor and pitch a little blanket fort above them using their chairs and desks. Therissa plops herself right in the center of the mattresses and stretches out comfortably while her roomies circle the room like busy bees, collecting all of the pillows and blankets to use for extra cushioning.  

“Let’s play a game!” Brody suggests as she flops belly-first onto a mountain of blankets. “Truth or dare.” She frowns when Violet and Therissa let out a collective groan. “Come on, it’ll be fun. This is our first campout together, so we should get to know each other better.”

“You do realize we’ve all been sleeping in the same room for, like, a year, right?” Therissa points out.

“Oh, hush, you know what I mean.”

“So, basically, you want to ask me a bunch of questions and make me talk about myself,” Therissa says, catching on to Brody’s ulterior motive right away. Propping her head up with her elbow, she turns to Violet and screws up her face into one of exaggerated distaste, causing the blonde to slap her hands over her mouth to prevent herself from laughing out loud. Violet crouches down and crawls into their fort, taking a seat next to Therissa, who winks at her. 

“It’s for all of us,” Brody insists. “You get to ask me and Vi stuff, too.”

“Can’t we just, like, play cards or something?” Violet doesn’t particularly feel like talking about herself today, either. Truth or dare is one of those risky games with the potential to get uncomfortably personal. A feeling deep in her gut is telling her that playing something like that with Therissa around might not make for the most enjoyable of times. The teen seems like the type who would ask weird questions and come up with mortifying dares. 

“I second that,” says Therissa, holding up a hand with her index finger extended. “But no baby games like Go Fish or Old Maid. You guys know how to play poker?”

“Isn’t that the one where you have to… you know... take off your clothes?”

The eldest girl snorts, nearly choking, and cackles loudly. “No, V, that’s strip poker.” 

A disappointed pout appears on Brody’s face as she allows herself a moment to mourn the loss of the truth or dare game that never was. With Therissa and Violet being so similar, she comes to the realization that she very well might have to get used to being outnumbered again. It was the same way at home with her two older brothers. Now that she and her siblings are all a bit older, wiser, and have learned to compromise every now and then, it’s not so bad, but Brody remembers that when she was really little, Dawson and Hunter hardly ever wanted to do what she wanted to do. It was always two against one, and never in her favor.  

Brody doesn’t dwell on it for long, though. The most important thing is that she’s getting to spend time with Violet and Therissa. Together. At the same time! And card games can be fun, too. Brody’s never played poker in her life, but she’d love to learn. Therissa leaves their fort just to grab a slightly worn deck of cards from her desk drawer, but then Brody and Violet scoot in close, listening intently as the teen starts to explain the rules.  

Therissa only gets as far as explaining the object of the game when there’s a knock at the door. Brody excitedly hops up to see who it is. “I’ll get it!”  

It’s Marlon, this week’s mail boy, wearing khaki shorts, white knee-high socks, and a deep red polo shirt embroidered with the Ericson emblem. The matching red newsie cap atop his head is just as prominent as the scowl on his face. Each week, a different student is selected to help sort student mail and then deliver it to the correct dorm rooms. Unlike Brody, who sports the uniform with pride every time her turn to be mail girl comes along, the blonde boy is clearly one of the many kids at the school who finds the whole thing kind of humiliating. 

Reaching into the large, brown satchel hanging from his shoulder, Marlon pulls out a padded envelope and practically shoves it into Brody’s hands. “Special delivery. See ya!”

“Thanks,” says Brody, but her classmate has already taken off running down the hall. Shutting the door, Brody comes back to the center of the room and takes a closer look at the small, lumpy package. “Oh, Therissa, it’s for you!” She glances at the name and address in the upper left corner and grins. “It’s from Mel!” 

“Oh, that.” Therissa already knows what’s inside the package without having to look, and she’s already starting to feel embarrassed at the thought of what’s about to go down. Keeping a straight face, she does her best to play it cool. “Wanna open it for me?”

“Sure,” replies Brody, returning to her previous spot in the fort and shaking the envelope ever so slightly. Violet moves closer, just as curious, watching as her friend tears open one end of the package. Before Brody can reach inside, the envelope’s contents start rolling and something colorful falls out onto the mattress below. The girl blinks, speechless, and stares down at the two tiny glass bottles in awe. “It’s… nail polish. But they’re—”

“They’re yours.”

Brody takes in a sharp breath and her hands go to cover her mouth. “What?”

Therissa reaches out and takes the nail polish, holding each color in front of her face to get a look at them before they go to their new owner. There’s a shockingly hot pink and a bright sky blue, and the thought of wearing either of these colors on her own fingernails sort of makes the teenager want to puke, but they’re disgustingly, disturbingly perfect. “Yeah, I mean, if I ever wake up one day wanting to look like a bubblegum fairy princess, I’ll let you know, but until then”—Therissa removes her roommate’s hands from her face and drops the bottles into her palms—“I think you should hold onto them.”

“Oh, these colors are so cute! Are they really for me?” Brody can’t believe what’s happening. She pinches herself to make sure she’s not dreaming. Ouch. She’s not. Breaking into the biggest smile, Brody hugs the bottles to her chest.    

“It’s just, I know how much you wanted to be there when me and Violet did ours, so…” Therissa’s face is getting too warm for her to finish her sentence, so she cuts herself off. “Anyway, if I’m gonna do your nails, I had to make sure we had the right colors. You’re way too… you for any of mine. No offense.”

Squealing, Brody launches herself at the teen and hugs her tighter than ever before. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Violet snickers. “Can you imagine Brody with, like, black nails?”

“And black eyeliner and maybe a little mascara?” Therissa pictures their auburn-haired roomie wearing her makeup and shakes her head, starting to laugh as well. “Oh my god, she’d be like an emo Elmo.” With one final pat onto the younger girl’s back, Therissa pulls away gently. She looks at Brody, grinning in amusement. “What do you think? Wanna try it out? I could give you a couple piercings to match.” 

Brody gasps, face contorting into one of absolute horror as she imagines Therissa coming at her ears with a needle. She fervently shakes her head and shudders. “No!”

Therissa and Violet turn to look at each other, but as soon as they make eye contact, they both explode into hysterics. It isn’t long before Brody realizes that the teen was just kidding around, and she soon finds herself giggling, too. Whether it’s joy, sadness, excitement or even fear, Brody tends to absorb the emotions of those around her. They penetrate her down to the bone and she feels them as though they’re her own. Brody can tell what sort of mood Therissa’s in before the teenager even opens her mouth. If Violet has a bad dream and wakes up sad or scared, Brody cries right along with her. When her friends are happy, so is she.

Brody’s always been a little bit like that. 

Occasionally her mind wanders. Sometimes Brody thinks about what her life would be like if her parents never sent her to Ericson’s. Would she still be as frightened and anxious as she was before meeting Dr. Larson? Would she have found a best friend whom she loves as much as she loves Violet? Like everything else in the world, life at a boarding school has its ups and downs. Some days are tougher than others, and being away from her family is rough sometimes, but Brody is forever grateful that she ended up here.

Here, as in Ericson Academy, of course. But also here, as in right here in her bedroom, sitting in between her best friend, Violet and her newest friend, Therissa, in the cozy comfort of their blanket fort. 

And here, on this particular Saturday afternoon, Brody knows one thing for certain—she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

[yzareenxiv]

Small Lives

"He's a bad man."

Oh, Lolah, why didn't I listen?

She'd argued vehemently that she was just as bad, that she would make him better, that she deserved the monster because she, herself, was a monster and isn't that how it works? Isn't that how it should be?

Now he was dead and C'arha was done with her.

No more 'you make me want to be better'. No more 'I need you'. No more 'I love you'. No more lies. No more manipulations. No more broken vows. No more passion. No more screaming, snarling arguments. No more whispered words of devotion. No more 'Amata' or 'Tempesta' or 'Tenebris' or 'Goddess' or 'Kitten' or 'Love' or 'Sandari'. No more sun-bright brilliance or fire-and-ice glory. No more falling asleep to the sound of someone else's heartbeat. No more soft smiles and bright eyes met across rooms. No more hands holding hers. No more soul mates or star crossed lovers.

The nights were so very, very empty. The days tumbled into each other in meaningless cacophonies that threatened to drive her mad and too-frequently sent her into the corner of her bedroom with her pillow over her ears to block out the sounds of too many neighbors, too many voices, too many noises, too many thoughts. The apartment Ayanga had arranged for her had been a kind gift that she had taken when she had received word that her home was, for the time being, unlivable. She was not accustomed to being so close to so many people all the time and her sensitive hearing and self-imposed isolation did her no favors.

In desperation, weeks ago, Zareen had tried to return to her house, thinking it could only be better than being stuck in the echoing box she was in, even if it was a little damaged. When she arrived, she was met with the tangible evidence of her life's destruction- the damage caused by the fight with Arden and the fire that Sana had extinguished had collapsed the upper floor and the combined weight had sent part of the building into the basement. Efforts had been made to preserve everything from the elements but nothing else had been touched.

She had gone picking through the rubble, salvaging what she could, being reminded with every piece of debris she turned over of the life she had built in that place. Of another time she had gone picking through rubble and debris at C'arha's side, offering the distraught woman her company and care. The memory stung all the more as Zareen looked at the devastation around her, surveying it while all alone.

I brought this on myself.

Workmen were hired after that but she did nothing to oversee them. What was the point of having a house if the people that she had bought it for were dead or lost to her? It was just a husk, a pretty trap with blades that waited to slice and cut and bleed her heart dry with every memory. She was told they put all the things they had recovered into storage for her, that almost everything was salvaged, and she had tried to show her gratitude even as the apathy gnawed at the edge of her consciousness. The workmen worked, the house slowly ceased to be rubble, the garden grew under the care of skilled gardeners that she couldn't remember hiring and didn't really care about as long as they made certain C'arha's flowers didn't die.

She hadn't gone to see the progress of the house, or the items in storage, or the spring garden- what was the point? The cubs had everything they needed- she'd recovered nearly the entire nursery, thanks to the wards- and she had the few things that truly mattered to her. Everything else... everything else was shards of shattered dreams that she couldn't bring herself to crawl through. She'd tried, at first. Turning over everything that had happened in her mind, over and over again, running through her memories- the last 6 moons, then the last year, then the last two years, then her time since leaving the island, then her time since becoming the Jaguar, then back and back until her earliest memories. She walked through the world without seeing it, without feeling it, without experiencing it, too preoccupied with trying to figure out where it had all gone so wrong. When she finally realized she was accomplishing nothing by looking backwards it had been simultaneously a weight off her shoulders and an overwhelming feeling of pointlessness.

What had it all been for?

Looking into her daughters' eyes was the only bright spot, the only thing that felt like it meant something anymore. When they napped or played with each other, Zareen felt like a forgotten doll, dropped carelessly aside to wait for time's inevitable flow, and she sat almost lifeless, staring into empty space and doing her best to think of or do something productive. Dinner? Lunch? Did she need more laundry soap? Were the oranges in the bowl going mushy? Small thoughts, quiet thoughts, for a life that had gone small and quiet and mostly meaningless. Her spear gathered dust in a closet- she used to bring it out frequently to keep it cleaned and sharpened, had even ventured out hunting a couple of times, but as the suns passed she recalled too clearly her promises not to hunt alone anymore and that memory led to other memories of other promises, hunts both recent and long, long past, and pain and failure and joy and success and it was all too much. So she set that part of herself aside, trying to hide it in a windowless room to suffocate and die, to grow dull and useless and forgotten.

Zareen had never been one to go quietly into the night, though. And as much as she wanted to, as much as her days blurred together and her nights were spent restlessly staring at the walls- or startling awake screaming and lying trembling and still as she watched the shadows for threats and held tightly to a purple-hearted crystal- there was still something inside her, some unquenchable flicker that wouldn't allow her to end her own misery. Every time she went walking in Shirogane and found herself staring longingly at the sea, imagining the stillness, the silence, the chill and the dark, something spurred her to turn her head and keep walking. Every time she stood in the kitchen, time ticking away without comprehension, eyes fixated on the blade of the knife as she sliced carrots or potatoes, enchanted at the play of light over the metal and the promises of crimson and candy-apple and rubies, something would make her blink and frown and go back to preparing the meal.

She drank too much. She slept too little. She rarely ate.

Some days, she managed more. Some days, she even managed to gather herself and her cubs and go to see her family. Share a meal. Babysit. Be all small talk and smiles and rarely, very rarely, even laughter.

The nightmares were always worst, those nights, and she struggled terribly with guilt when she would feel relieved that she did not hear from anyone for a sun or two. She was not made to play pretend and she did not do it well.

I used to have such big dreams.

She didn't ask about the Pack anymore. When she felt the unmistakable chill of the Void brush against her senses, she did not drop everything to chase it down anymore. When she felt the Sin Eater inside of her stir, she ruthlessly ignored it until it slumbered once again. Small thoughts, those were safe. A small life. A life with walls and fences and overhanging rooftops and polite empty conversations where you ignore the pull of the sun and the moon, the dance of the stars, the rush of the wind, the call of the sea. Where thunder is just thunder and not the lovemaking of the gods. Where there are no great destinies calling your name. Where primal forces do not walk or talk or guide your steps. Where magic is a practicality and not an art and a thrill and a thing of beauty and great skill. Where the brandishing of weapons is frowned upon and martial skill simply isn't necessary.

Where emotions skate across the surface and you never, ever, ever look down.

It's so much more peaceful this way. Is this the way everyone else lives?

When she was told Dunrai was not returning from the Steppes, it had briefly brought it all bubbling back to the surface- grief and loss and loneliness and fear and self-loathing and anger and glorious memories of dancing and singing and stories and hugs and safety and warmth and love. She had wept, the storm fierce but too-quickly pushed down and away- who was she to cry and mourn? What right did she have? Mourning is too big a thing for a small life so she locked it away with all the rest- down in the dark- and did her best to make herself go out to help Ayanga and Tolemy more often with their cubs.

Then Ayanga asked to visit, made a proposal of the occasional family meals and sleep overs, and she had accepted with a confusing mix of reluctance and hope. Small lives had small things like these, didn't they? Women and men in the market who had never stepped foot outside the 8 or 10 blocks of their home spoke of family visiting and sharing a meal, after all. Maybe this would be okay- maybe this would be safe and she wouldn't have to crawl through the bright, keen-edged broken dreams again. So long as she could keep everything on the surface, keep the closets locked and barred, stay behind the walls, keep it all small and simple, then everything would be okay. She was getting so good at it, even his keen eyes wouldn't notice anything amiss. And if he did? Maybe, maybe he would welcome the change- maybe he would think she was just becoming more Doman, more centered, following his lead. Maybe if she was small and quiet and calm and civilized, maybe if she no longer danced through the world chaotic and loud and bright and feral and violent and fierce and loyal and loving and so very, very broken, maybe that was the person she was meant to be. Maybe that was what Tolemy had meant when he told her to find herself, even if what she found wasn't perfect.

Maybe they will understand that it is so much easier this way. As long as I keep my head down, as long as I don't look around, as long as I stay behind the walls and under the roofs and keep my hands to myself and my thoughts to myself and my dreams to myself and my nightmares to myself then everything else will eventually go away. That's how people do this, right? That's how people are. I may not be able to lie like everyone else can, but if I make my truth as small as possible, then I won't have to- I'll be just like everyone else.

((Tagging for mentions: @ala-mhinyan and @talesfromthegameff14 ))

[greenmaskedmarauder]

Words Unspoken

A Kellila fic.

Thank you to @forthegenuine for betaing this for me :D.

Find it here.

Or read below the cut if you want. It’s your life.

Kell and Lila had been in Grey London for the better part of a week. Not to exchange letters with King George the Fourth. No, those days were over. Rhy had sent them there for a different reason: see if there were any magically inclined people. And make sure they weren’t able to nurture that inclination.

Lila hadn’t wanted to come back to her home that was no longer her home. Far too many bad memories to mix with the taste of ash on the air. But she hadn’t wanted Kell to leave without her, and he would do anything for his brother. Really, there should be limits as to what brotherly love would do, but Kell agreed right away. So here they were, back at the recently renamed The Stone’s Throw again. Kell trusted Ned to help them with this as well, as the young Enthusiast no longer had a desire to see if he could muster control over elements.

It still hit her, the sense of sadness and loss over Barron. He had been a part of The Stone’s Throw for so long that his absence was something she could feel. Then again, as he had unwittingly become a member of her small family, maybe his absence was just something she could feel anyway. He wouldn’t be there to look at her sternly, telling her she would find trouble if that’s all she went looking for. And he wouldn’t ever get to see what she had become. And that saddened her most, she supposed.

She looked up as Kell came back into their room, once her room, after spending some time downstairs with Ned. He looked at her face, then opened his arms to her. She settled in, leaning against his chest. “You still miss him?” he asked softly. She didn’t say anything, just nodded briefly. He kissed the top of her head, and pulled back to look into her eyes. Blue on brown, black on black. Truthfully, it was getting easier to be there. Easier to accept Barron’s death. And that worried her. If she wasn’t mourning him anymore, was there anyone left to do so?

“What were you and Ned talking about?” she asked, trying to take her mind off of the confusion surrounding her emotions concerning Barron.

“Oh, this and that,” he hedged. She narrowed her eyes at him but before she could say anything he distracted her by kissing her. It shouldn’t have worked as well as it did, but she leaned into the kiss, into him. Before she could deepen it, he pulled away, concern furrowing his brow. He always was too perceptive of what she was feeling. “Are you sure you’re all right?” She exhaled, nodded. His fingers traced her jaw.

“So, how much longer do you think we’ll have to be away from home?” Lila asked. “And how many people does Rhy think could use magic here anyway?”

“Well, his concern isn’t entirely unfounded. I mean, look at you.” She just looked at him. “I don’t know,” he answered. “I haven’t been able to pick up on any signs of magic, even small ones. But my eyes ended up missing you entirely, so who knows what we’ll find. You haven’t seen anything yet, have you?”

Lila shook her head. “No. Though I’m not as used to looking for the signs as you are.” Kell nodded, considered this.

“If we haven’t seen anything by the end of tomorrow, we’ll head back then. I know how you hate to be away from your ship for so long,” he teased. Lila just threw her pillow at him. He laughed, laid down beside her.

“Do you think we should fix the wall before we leave? You know, so Ned can use this room for other patrons aside from us.” Kell looked at the patch of ruined wood where he had trapped Lila the night they’d met. It seemed like a lifetime ago, when really it was only a year and a half.

“If you think so. Personally, I think Ned likes the remnants of magic. But we can fix it before we go.” With that, he pulled her close to him, hands brushing over her dark hair. “Come on. Let’s go to sleep.”

Lila let the feel of his hands brushing over her hair lull her into sleep. Strange to think about, but she still slept the best when Kell was next to her.

The next morning they rose with the dawn, the reds more muted than in Red London, but still bright against the dark blue of early morning. They left The Stone’s Throw once more, still looking for signs of anyone who could sense and use magic. As they continued to wander the streets of Grey London, Lila let her mind wander. She was still watching for more muted versions of what she supposed was like the door Kell had made the night they’d met, but she was also thinking about what it would have been like if she’d never met him. She didn’t know if she would have ever unlocked her magic.

She looked up and caught sight of a tall, slim man leaving a tavern. He had dark hair and a narrow face. She stiffened and froze at the sight of him, and Kell noticed. He turned to follow her gaze as it met the brown eyes of the man. He was shabby, and had the scraggly traces of not having shaved for a couple days. She hadn’t noticed that she’d started shaking until Kell put his hand on her shoulder and whispered, “What is it?” She blinked and took a deep, steadying breath.

“Mr. Bard,” she said coldly by way of greeting. Thomas Bard. Her father. The man who had sold her for some coin when she was fifteen and whom she hadn’t seen since that night. She had killed the man who bought her, of course. And then she began her life of always watching out for herself. It had been four years since she’d last laid eyes on him but he looked the same, eyes bloodshot and teeth yellowing from too much drink.

He frowned as recognition seemed to take over. Of course, she now had a black eye as she was meant to, but he still frowned. “I took great care to make sure your sign of devil possession was removed. Even stole the regular looking one. Why’ve you gone and put it back?” 

Lila shook with anger and a little bit of sadness. She willed him to stop in the street. He gasped as he couldn’t move his limbs.

“You see, Thomas,” she began, “it turns out I went and found what that mark really was. And hello to you too, you bastard.” She ended on a growl.

“You’re Lila’s father?” asked Kell incredulously. “I thought you were dead. She alluded to that anyway.” Thomas couldn’t hear the subtle shift to anger in his voice but Lila heard it loud and clear. “Don’t,” she whispered softly, but Kell continued. “What kind of man sells his own daughter to a sleazy man just so he can get a few coin? What kind of man cuts out his daughter’s eye.” His teeth were clenched now, both in anger and in pain as the ground rumbled and he used his magic. He could still feel Lila tremble, but with what he wasn’t sure. He was too angry. He thought he knew all about not great fathers, growing up with one who favored his biological son over his adopted one, but seeing this man here in this London, where Lila had starved and stolen and frozen just to get by made him angry. 

Thomas opened and closed his mouth repeatedly like a fish. “And who might you be?” he finally managed. The shock of not being able to move combined with the tremors in the ground had him a little spooked. And then he frowned upon looking into Kell’s eyes. “You’ve got the same affliction she has,” he said, rather stupidly in Kell’s mind, considering Lila had willed his body still and he could feel magic rising in his blood, demanding to be used. “Unhand me. What the devil is wrong with you two?”

Kell scoffed. “What’s wrong with us? I’d say you’re ahead in who’s more messed up. Thomas, was it?” Thomas nodded briefly, that being all he could do, with Lila’s hold still on him. She had gone very pale, and was still trembling. Kell could tell she no longer wanted to be here with the man, so he strode forward and punched him in the jaw. He crumpled to the ground, and Lila hurriedly strode away to the next street. Kell leaned down over the man, saying in a low tone, “You are lucky we are leaving your world behind. You didn’t deserve anything as good as her, ever. You bastard.” He turned and walked away, trying to catch up to Lila. He knew she wasn’t far away.

He found her in an alley, crumpled against the back of a shop, arms wrapped around her stomach. He strode next to her, crouching down so he could see her face. She was still shaking, and breathing hard. “He shouldn’t matter. He shouldn’t fucking matter,” she said, voice breaking a little. “Why does he fucking matter?” she asked, a couple of tears slipping passed her control. Kell reached out to cup her cheek, brushing them away with his thumb. And then he pulled her into his arms, offering his shoulder if she needed it to cry into.

“He doesn’t matter,” he whispered into her ear. “Nothing about that man in that street matters. The only thing that matters is you and who you have become.” He rubbed her back, and wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed softly. “Lila,” he whispered in her ear. They stood like that for a few minutes, before Lila pulled away, angrily swiping the tears from her eyes. She sniffed.

“I thought he was dead. I thought he had died long ago, long before I held a piece of Black London hostage so you would take me on an adventure. I never went looking for him after that night, and I never gave him a second thought. Barron was my only family. Why is he alive while Barron is dead?” She looked at him with eyes shimmering with unshed tears, her brown eye impossibly dark under the sheen. He held her face in both hands, and leaned his forehead on hers.

“I don’t know, Lila. I don’t know what sort of justice that is. All I know is that you are strong. You are alive. And you are so incredible, in spite of everything that he is.” He kissed her then, once. Just deep enough to show her how much he loved her. She had stopped shaking, and she sniffled once more. “Do you want to go home?” he asked softly. She nodded, and then pulled away.

They looked around, trying to gauge where they’d be in Red London. They would come out somewhere near the eastern edge of the Night Market. “Do we need to say goodbye to Ned?” asked Lila. Kell shook his head, and dug out his Red London token. Lila cut her hand, and spoke the words that would bring them home. “As travars.” They stepped through, and made their way up to the palace to tell Rhy that they hadn’t found anyone magical enough to warrant concern.

[lesdemonium]

I’d Be the Choiceless Hope Chapter 4

Ship: Geraskier Word count: 11500 (total) Chapter: 4/16

Summary:  

“Such a nice, beautiful sound,” the fae crooned. “If only he were this way always.”

Julian’s mother stood up. She claimed she was prepared to stop the fae, to protect her baby, but in Julian’s darkest moments he doubted this part of the story. His mother loved him, of that he had no doubt, but she had been young and weary, and even years later, she couldn’t quite get the twinge of exhaustion out of her eyes when she recalled Julian’s infancy. Even if she had been keen on protecting him, the fae was too close, too fast, too set on his plan.

“A gift, for the new mother,” the fae continued. He leaned a hand in to stroke Julian’s cheek. “I give you the gift of obedience.”

As a baby, Jaskier was visited by a fae, who gifted Jaskier’s mother with Jaskier’s obedience. As Jaskier grew older, the “gift” became more of a curse.

Additional tags: AngstAngst with a Happy EndingHeavy AngstUnrequited LoveNot Actually Unrequited LoveAlternate Universe - Canon DivergenceCanon EraNot Canon CompliantCursed Jaskier | DandelionAlternate Universe - Ella Enchanted FusionCurse of ObedienceRape/Non-con ElementsImplied/Referenced Rape/Non-conJaskier | Dandelion Whump

read on ao3 - read chapter 1 on ao3

read chapter 1 on tumblr

Jaskier knew they would eventually have to part. It was the nature of things, for him and Geralt. Geralt had contracts that even Jaskier had to agree were too treacherous for Jaskier to follow, and it was easier for Jaskier to find time to himself, and leave Geralt to his witchering. Geralt didn’t often pick the most populated cities, either, and if Jaskier was to set about changing his reputation, at times he had to place himself in a larger public.

He also had a feeling Geralt sometimes needed a break from Jaskier. As much as Jaskier was loath to admit it, he knew he was often too much for the witcher, and he feared the day Geralt decided to take his leave of the bard completely. It was easier, then, if he gave Geralt a break every now and again.

It became a tradition, then. After a few months of traveling together, Jaskier would find an excuse to leave. When a month or two had passed, they would meet up again, though when they parted for winter, it was for the entire season. Jaskier still spent much of his time with the witcher, and had grown quite adept at tracking him down. The one exception was after the banquet at Cintra; Jaskier did not find Geralt again for almost an entire year. Jaskier had a feeling this was by Geralt’s design. Geralt needed time to mourn, and get his head on straight, and Jaskier could accept that. When they reunited, it was like no time had passed at all, and for that, Jaskier was glad.

This time, though, as they parted, Jaskier could have sworn there was something behind Geralt’s very pointedly stoic face. Often, he imagined with his more cruel sense of humor, it was relief. This time, it was more somber, almost sad. That was a ridiculous thought, though. Geralt was as happy for the time alone as he had ever been, Jaskier was sure of it.

Still, as they parted, Jaskier found himself moving his feet slowly, turning back to watch the witcher’s retreating form over and over and over again. Once, he caught Geralt looking back, too.

It was nothing, though. Jaskier was sure of it. They hadn’t even made a plan to meet up again. Jaskier had simply allowed himself to be fooled by the affection and passion present as they laid together. He had allowed himself to be swept up in the way Geralt listened, not only to his words, but to Jaskier’s reactions, too. His care and attention during that first time wasn’t a fluke; if Jaskier seemed unhappy even slightly , Geralt did not allow Jaskier to brush it off. The inverse was true as well. Geralt acted as if studying Jaskier’s body and reactions for pleasure was his field of study, and he was quickly becoming an expert in it.

It was only sex, though. Nothing else changed. They both found other partners at times, and otherwise they were friends. No matter how many times Jaskier had daydreamed and longed to kiss Geralt without intent, or hold his hand as they walked the path, or use sweet words to convey the depths of his feelings, that wasn’t what they were to each other. Jaskier could handle that. He could love Geralt from afar.

Even with an audience as responsive as the one he had in Ellander, Jaskier was feeling lonely and melancholy. It had only been two weeks without Geralt, and already he was mooning over him like some lovesick maiden. Honestly, to compare what Jaskier was doing to them would be an insult to lovesick maidens everywhere.

He was trying to distract himself, for fear that if he didn’t, he would set about searching for his witcher again. Geralt deserved far more of a break than that, and Jaskier had no interest in embarrassing himself as far as to follow after the witcher as if Jaskier was not his own man. He was approaching thirty, it was time to grow up . Find a distraction.

The woman in the market was beautiful. She clearly had money, what with the delicate blush-colored gown draped across her lovely figure and the jewels around her neck, but that wasn’t what made Jaskier approach. Her smile was kind as she perused a stand selling bright flowers.

“Ah, I see someone as lovely as you chooses to fill her home with beauty,” Jaskier said as he approached the lady. “Might I make a suggestion?” He motioned to a bushel of daffodils. “The yellow would accentuate the rose of your cheeks divinely.”

Her smile was delighted as she held out her hand. Jaskier took it, sweeping himself into perhaps too much of a bow for the occasion, but the woman seemed pleased as he looked up and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“I do hope they give you a commission as you do their work for them.” She motioned for another woman, likely her lady in waiting, to take the daffodils, then turned her attention back to Jaskier. “I do, in fact, like to fill my home with beauty. I wonder if I might be able to add you to my collection.”

She was a countess. Charming and spirited and knew exactly what she wanted. Jaskier was pleased to find that he was among those she wanted, and allowed himself to be swept up in her grandeur. He had always been quite fond of pretty things and luxuries. He performed in her court and in the town, spreading word of his witcher and his own skill with his instrument. Soon, he barely had to speak a word before people were delightedly turning their chairs to face him and singing along even to his more complicated songs. At night, he warmed his Countess’s bed.

Jaskier never meant to stay long, but he found he could have loved her, truly.

For weeks, she was content to let Jaskier lead. She was warm and pliant under his touch, and her kisses were sweet and fraught with desire. Rarely did she order him about, though when she did, he couldn’t help but notice he hadn’t corrected her like he did Geralt. The Countess did not notice when Jaskier froze, only to stutter back to life a moment later. The commands were simple, he reminded himself. She didn’t know. If she had any idea Jaskier was unable to refuse, she would never order him about.

She grew bolder, though, as they always did. The Countess thought it was a game they were playing, and thought that Jaskier simply delighted in giving his partner what they wanted. He did, but not like this. Jaskier did not dare tell her. Instead, he swallowed his pride, put on a smile, and convinced himself that he was enjoying their coupling. Maybe, for his countess, the curse could be a gift.

“Stay with me, here, in Ellander. Live in my home and be mine,” the Countess said sweetly, pressing a kiss to his collarbone.

And that, well. Clever as Jaskier was, that would be a tricky command to avoid, and even tricker to obey to completion. His heart escaped to his throat in dread, and he swallowed around the lump it made.

He put on his best smile, wrapped his arms around the countess, and pressed a kiss to her hair.

“Nothing would make me happier, my muse,” Jaskier murmured back.

Jaskier could have sworn he felt her face heat up. He didn’t have to see her flush, however, to know that her cheeks had grown red.

It wasn’t a hard life. Likely, it was the best sort of life Jaskier could expect. He was free to write and sing his songs, while living in true comfort. He wanted for nothing, he was fed and bathed and had access to a warm bed whenever he wanted. The clothes he wore were beautiful, colorful, the height of fashion. He was comfortable and appeased in every sense of the word.

Jaskier hated it. His songs felt stale and trite, and there was no pleasure for him in performing for the same audiences time and time again. Adventure called to him from outside the city walls, and Jaskier longed to call back.

He thought, not infrequently, of Geralt. Jaskier wondered where he was, what creatures he had recently slain, if Geralt missed Jaskier at all. Perhaps he had finally returned to Cintra, claimed his child surprise. Or, more likely, perhaps he was avoiding the entire southwest portion of the continent, and his destiny along with it. Jaskier hoped he was finding more amiable beds to warm, and plenty of monsters to tell Jaskier about, whenever Jaskier could free himself. It didn't matter if Geralt missed Jaskier. Jaskier missed Geralt enough for both of them.

The countess grew bored of Jaskier. Jasker knew she did. Jaskier did everything within his power to make it so: he sang the same songs, he was less adventurous and excited in bed (which was less intentional than a natural side effect of the countess growing more and more directive), and without new adventures, he had no new stories to tell her. Still, it took months upon months of work for her eye to start to turn.

“I am getting older,” the Countess began, her voice neutral. Jaskier feigned indifference, only turned his head toward her to indicate he was listening, but his body tensed in anticipation. Where this was going, he had no idea. “It’s time for me to start considering the future. Marriage. Children.”

Jaskier faced her fully, his eyebrow raised. She wasn’t looking at him. Instead, she picked at her fingers. She was sitting up, her back against the wall behind her, and the blanket pooled in her lap, leaving her torso bare. The Countess was a sight, Jaskier had to admit. In another life, she would have made Jaskier an exceedingly happy man.

“I will be entertaining eligible suitors. It would be...unseemly, to have you here,” she said. She sounded regretful, but Jaskier’s heart soared. “It would never have worked between us. I have truly loved my time with you, but I must consider my options, my estate, the legitimacy of my children. You can only offer me love.”

Jaskier was prideful enough that he had to bite back his retort. He was a viscount, hardly an unseemly partner, but he didn’t want to argue against this. The Countess didn’t know, she thought he was only a bard with no titles to his name. It would be best if that was how it remained.

“I understand,” Jaskier said, taking the Countess’s hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. She looked at him, finally, and smiled. It still wasn’t enough, though. He couldn’t go without her word. “So, you want me to...?”

“Leave, Jaskier,” she said, nodding, and gently taking her hand back. “Leave, and remember me fondly.”

Jaskier stood, his body leading the way as his head tried to catch up. He was free to go. Jaskier could find himself anywhere now, and trail after adventure once more. He could find Geralt.

Jaskier packed his bag as he thought of all his “could” options. No longer a prisoner of the Countess’s estate, he could travel the continent again, singing his songs for Geralt and gaining more renown. His return would be triumphant, and he could find himself in another’s bed again, as he was no longer bound to the Countess. At least, until an unintentional command shackled him again. As it would. As it always had, eventually.

It felt as though his brain shuttered off for a moment on that particular thought. It could happen again. Because of the curse, Jaskier could not fall to the bed. The only actions he could take were those that helped him leave this place.  The Countess wasn’t the first person to shackle him, she was just the first to do it unknowingly. All things considered, he had gotten off pretty easily. The people that trapped him wanted to use him for a particular, selfish purpose, but they didn’t seek to harm him or others. What if next time, he wasn’t so lucky?

He could find adventure again. He could find Geralt again. He could pretend that his life was easier than it was, and that he could move freely through the continent, to chase his happiness.

It was time to find Lazuli.

read chapter 5

[am-i-ginny]

Scars to Your Beautiful

(trigger warning: mention of self-harm after the break)

Her eyes were always alive, they were a glimpse into a beautiful alternate world where opposite elements danced in harmony. When she looked at him Newt swore he could drown in the wet flames. Two months ago he had gotten down on his knee and asked if she was willing to spend the rest of her life beside him. They cried in joy together with both pairs of eyes fixed on the simple ring he placed on her finger.

At the moment though Tina's eyes were closed against the artificial sun that lit Newt's basement. They sat together next to the kelpies lake, his back against the wall and Tina's against Newt's chest. She leaned her head back against his shoulder and basked in the simple beauty of a peaceful moment in Newt's arms. Her eyes opened to look up at him smiling down at her and both of them were lost in the love on the others face. He kissed Tina's forehead and muttered something that she couldn't quite hear. She unlaced her fingers from his to pull Newts lips down to meet her own. It was a lazy kiss, slow and long. It could've gone on for 12 days or 12 seconds and Tina wouldn't know the difference. By the time they pulled back to breathe Tina was straddling Newts thigh. His thumbs stroked gently on her waist, one of hers was tangled in his hair.

He rested his forehead against Tina's. Her other hand was idly rolling the first button of his shirt between her finger tips, Newt covered it with his own. He kissed her again briefly.

“I love you, Tina Goldstein.” He whispered against her lips.

She smiled and fell forward onto his shoulder. “Three more weeks and I'll be Tina Scamander…” He could feel her smile as her breath tickled his neck.

“You don't want to back out, then?” He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her tightly. She shook her head as best she could, her fingers toying with with the button again.

“You're not going to get rid of me that easy, Mr. Scamander.”

“I would never try… sometimes I can hardly believe I hav- that you want me in the first place.” He said in a voice that lost humor as the sentence ended.

Tina's heart squeezed around her throat.

Newt was a strong man and confident in all his actions but his experiences had taught him that other people often looked at him with doubt and annoyance. Those people were utterly and completely blind to his beauty and brilliance and Tina would never understand. She nuzzled against his neck, kissing the pulse point.

“You are everything that I want Newt. My best friend, my soulmate, my partner in every fight. I love you. Why on earth would I not want you?”

“I… I've been wanting to- no. I love you too, darling. But. But-” he sighed.

Tina sat back and looked him in the eye. His heart nearly stopped in her intensity. He tried to drop his gaze but she immediately brought her hand to his face to make him look at her.

“What's wrong Newt? If its the wedding, we can al-”

“No. No its not- I want to marry you Tina. Of course I do. It's just, I’m… worried. About our wedding night…” he blushed then and she couldn't help but laugh.

“Oh. Well if it's about… I'm sure we can figure it out together.” Now she was blushing too. They both smile meekly at the thought of the long awaited night.

Newt coughed.

“Um, yes, I'm not so worried about that. I'm fairly confident I have a grasp on how to… to…” he coughed again. “It's just I've been wanting to, um, warn you about something.”

Tina stiffened unintentionally.

“Its not- its-I just want to, I think I should rather, my body… I have a lot of scars, you know. With the dragons in the War, and a lot of beasts… the scratches don't always heal cleanly. I don't want it to scare you, or put you off. I wish I was more handsome for you Tina but I can't fix most of them.” He said in a rush.

Tina's hand still on his chest laid flat over his heart, the other stroked the scruff on his jaw.

“I have absolutely no doubt that I will enjoy seeing you shirtless with or without scars.” She quipped.

Newt smiled half heartedly as his ears turned bright red.

“It's not just my torso… there's one on my thigh, its particularly nasty. Its- there's a lot of them.” He wasn't meeting her eye anymore.

It hurt her how much this bothered him. How he was worried it would bother her. It was like Newt hadn't considered she might have scars too. He didn't know the stories her skin held, the wounds that would never fade and the marks she would never let herself erase.

She kissed his lips sweetly, reveling in the security of his love.

“Newt… you're not the only one with scars I have more than I can count.”

“Mine are-”

“Hush. Your scars are part of your story. They're from work that you're proud to do. I wouldn't care if you were missing limbs, I'm going to marry you and love you forever. I will have you regardless of your scars… as long as you have me regardless of mine.”

“Tina… love… of course.”

“I'm not proud of some of mine. Most scars show the strength of the person, not all of mine do...” She whispered in the smallest voice he'd heard from her since just after Paris.

There was a moment of quiet before she spoke again.

“You're worried about a scar on your thigh? How did you get it?”

“Hungarian hornback in the war. Both sides used dragons as weapons, we used them like bombs to clear trenches… they did the same but they had jinxed them somehow, the burns didn't heal without help and even then the magic did nothing for the scars. After mine almost killed me Theseus invented a shield charm to protect our troops proactively.”

“Im sorry Newt.”

“It got me home. To a desk job where I could fight to stop using innocent creatures like that. And before quite recently I didn't worry about how ugly it looked, not until I realized someone could love me enough to get close to it.”

“My thigh is scarred too.” She whispered dropping her eyes.

She focused on the button of his shirt again and started picking at the stitches. He let her continue at her own pace, it was clear to him that this was going to be difficult for her. In the silence he moved his hands down her waist so that his thumbs could rub circles on the outside of her thighs. It was an intimate spot and he hoped it was comforting more than it was inappropriate.

“When my parents died it wasn't easy on us. We were alone and still in school. I was broken  but I needed to be solid and take care of my sister. I didn't get the time to stop and mourn them properly. We stayed at the school most of the year. Then the War broke out and Ilvermorny was constantly crowded. I was scared and sad and being crushed by the weight of my future. I was… Newt I'm not proud of that time in my life, it taught me a lot but it cost even more.”

She let out a shaky breath.

“The scars on my leg. Twenty-four.  It was me. I- a razor blade. I don't know why really, not for years. It never happened again after the start of my 7th year. I have other scars, I'm an auror after all. But those...You might hate your scars but I love you and nothing will change that. No blemish would would scare me away Newt, if nothing else because I understand.”

Newt wiped the tears from her eyes, ignoring the one that dripped from his chin.

“Tina-”

She shook her head.

With a hand on each cheek he made her look at him.He kissed her forehead, her cheeks,her nose. She sighed when his lips brushed against her eyelids.

Her eyes stayed closed as he whispered reassurance to her.

“We don't need to talk about it now, one day maybe, but not right now. If you never want to tell me more, then I won't ask you to. Tina, I will never think any less of you for any reason. You are the bravest, strongest, most caring person I have ever met. You say my scars will never scare you away, I make the same promise to you. I will be next to you for as long as you'll have me.”

Tina's forehead rested against his. She hoped her thoughts and feelings might somehow defuse from her brain straight into his. That she might convey her pain, both from the shame of her past and from the beautiful crushing weight of his words. Her hand fisted in his shirt when Newt's lips found hers in an urgent kiss. Her hand got tighter and tighter until suddenly she felt the button rip. Newt chuckled into her mouth before pulling back and taking the button out of her hand. She smiled at him, her blush substituting an apology.

“Just because you have 'absolutely no doubt’ you'll enjoy me shirtless doesn't make it acceptable to rip my buttons off.”

Tina hit his shoulder playfully.

Newt put the button in his breast pocket before lightly pushing her from his lap so they could stand.

“I'll fix it later. Right now I think it's about time for something to eat?”

She took his hand and lead them up the stairs for dinner.

[schrijverr]

Winter Father and the Iron Son

I saw this post from @mamalaz a few days ago and I couldn’t get it out of my head, so I wrote this real fast, (note: I delayed Tonys birth by ten years and murdered Howard and Maria ten years earlier)

Bucky is being send to kill Howard and Maria Stark, but they didn’t count on the young Tony to be there as well. He breaks Bucky out of his mindset as the Winter Soldier and becomes like a son to Bucky. This is their story.

Ships: none

Warnings: Well, Buckys mind control and the murder of Howard and Maria

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

16 December 1981

The Winter Soldier has a mission: kill Howard and Maria Stark. HYDRA is certain that nothing should stop their Asset from killing the parents of the one-year-old Anthony Edward Stark. All is going as planned, the Asset has stopped the car and killed Howard and he’s making his way to the other side of the car. He chokes the woman and reports: “Targets have been eliminated, what does the Asset do with the child?”

The HYDRA agent cursed as he heard crying in the background. They couldn’t have anticipated this. Mr. Jarvis had become sick that afternoon and the parents had to take their child with them. It shouldn’t have happened, the boy was supposed to live, but HYDRA did not leave lose ends and it would be unrealistic for the boy to survive. The agent ordered: “Kill the child.”

The Asset moved to murder the innocent crying baby. He looked down and got ready to kill, but something happened. The man behind the Winter Soldier fought against to order to kill such a small human. It was wrong and he couldn’t allow it. This was not what he would do.

He threw down his weapon and got the baby out of the car. And then he ran, he ran like he had never done before. He was breaking out of his mind. It was still foggy and hazy, but there was one thing the man knew. This boy could not fall into HYDRAs hands.

~

The man lasted a year and a half before he was recaptured. By then he was very attached to the child, who he had been calling Tony. Tony was a smart kid, he was developing at a rapid pace and he saw Bucky as his dad even calling him Pops. He was developing faster than other kids, but Bucky didn’t know that much about parenting, so he hadn’t noticed. He just got him books that were above his level and food while they moved around.

But then they got captured again. Bucky would always remember Tony screaming: “Pops!” as they tore him from his grip. He always broke out of his Asset mindset screaming for his boy and demanding he’d be returned to him. After breaking out four times and causing too many casualties they returned Tony to him, but under conditions. He would continue to do missions for them and they would not harm the boy.

Bucky had to agree. He hated it, but he had to protect this boy. It was his mission. When they were finally reunited the boy had bruises on his face. Bucky had hugged him and looked him in the eye as he said: “I’m never gonna let anyone hurt you, kid.” and he meant to keep that promise.

~

Years passed and HYDRA soon recognized the talent Tony possessed. He was ahead in everything and incredibly smart, he was Howards son. They taught him how to make weapons and other machinery, which he took to like a fish in the water, upgrading things and pointing out flaws.

Bucky was still his Pops and he saw how bright his boy was, even at age twelve. He could never be more proud of him, but it ached that he was the reason the kid was here. He should be out there, running his dads company and taking over the world with his smarts, but he wasn’t. He was stuck in a HYDRA base all because of Bucky. Bucky told him as much, but Tony had looked him in the eye and said: “I know what brought me here, Pops. But you really got to stop blaming yourself for everything. You were brainwashed, remember. I don’t blame you. I know we’re in anger, but I am not leaving you or giving them everything this mind can make, alright? Don’t get your panties in a twist just yet.”

And then he had given him that trademark smirk that just screamed trouble and Bucky had given in. Just calling him his dumb kid and ruffling his hair. They weren’t okay, but they could be. He sat down that night and told him a story about the dumbest and bravest man he knew, Steve Rogers, who was always running into danger.

~

On 16 December 1998 it was splattered on all the headlines “YOUNG BILLIONAIRE TONY STARK RETURNS AFTER EXACTLY 17 YEARS”

~five days earlier~

“No, I won’t, Pops.” Tony said while pacing he room.

“Tony, with your mind, you can do anything.” Bucky said sternly, why couldn’t his kid just listen for once.

“I’m not leaving you, old man, so drop it.” Tony said rubbing his neck.

Bucky looked at him with sad eyes and said: “They’re losing interest in me and gaining interest in you. You have to go, keep yourself safe. You are a missing billionaire, if word gets out you resurfaced they can’t touch you.”

“Yeah!” Tony slammed his hand down in the table, losing all his cool, “So what? What will happen to you!”

“I’ll come after you. They have nothing to use against me then, but you have to go. We can’t do this forever.” Bucky looked into his eyes with intent. He needed Tony to understand that this was the only way. He looked up and saw that Tony was almost giving in. He was shuffling and fiddling, then he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down as he asked: “But what if they brainwash you again?”

A soft smile broke out on Buckys face. He put his hand on his shoulder and got Tony to look at him. He said: “They won’t, okay. I won’t let them, not when I have you to look for. It might take a while, but I will find you.”

Tony nodded and the next day Bucky heard alarms screaming as HYDRA found out that one of their most valuable assets was gone. Bucky smiled, he knew the kid had been long gone. They couldn’t touch his most loved thing.

Tony himself had walked to the nearest police station and said: “I’ve just escaped captivity, can you help me?”

He didn’t need to convince them too much, his clothes were dirty and thorn and he still had cuts and bruises all over from his escape, but everyone kicked into overdrive when he was asked his name and he had replied: “Tony, well actually Anthony, Anthony Edward Stark.”

Within a day he was at SI headquarters in NYC taking a DNA test that confirmed what he had claimed. After that he was taken to the hospital and whisked of to a fancy home by a man named Obadiah Stane, who told him he was his Godfather. He had been asked questions of course, but he grew up surrounded by spies and assassins, he knew how to bend the truth just enough to make sense.

He learned how to survive in the business world, went to galas, got into MIT and waited, he waited every night for Bucky, for his Pops. People knew where he was, he knew Bucky could find him, his Pops just needed to get out. As months turned into years he gave up on his Pops ever coming to find him and mourned his invisible loss by throwing himself into a party lifestyle as he took over the company.

~

2008

He was showing off in Afghanistan when his life went to shit. At age twenty seven Tony Stark was on top of the world, so it would only make sense that someone tore him down, but everyone forgot who they were dealing with. He was Tony fucking Stark and he didn’t grow up in a happy, safe or luxurious environment.

He didn’t sit and wait for a rescue, he got out and he did so in style. He saw what his weapons did and thought of his Pops. His Pops, who had fought against being used as a weapon for exactly this reason and who had given that up for him. He couldn’t tarnish that mans believes like this, so he got off and shut down the Weapons Branch. In honer of both Bucky and Yinsen.

And, well, you know how that tale goes, he becomes Iron Man, becomes a hero, almost dies because of poisoning, develops a new element, cures himself and get “invited” for the Avengers initiative, which he gracefully declines of course.

~

2010

But something was not right when he returned home. He got his gauntlet and crept into the living room where a shadowy figure sits of the couch. He puts up his hand and says: “What are you doing on my house. Put your hands up.”

The man leans forward and smiles, then he says: “That’s no way to greet your Pops, now is it Tony.”

Immediately the geniuses face lights up as he falls into his Pops arms and squealed out his name. When they’d hugged enough Tony hit him and says: “Where were you! You were gone. You told me you would come after me, but I didn’t see you for twelve years. I was alone for twelve years. Why weren’t you there.”

Bucky hugged the crying figure closer and said: “I’m sorry, kid, I’m so sorry. After you escaped I wanted to follow you, but they got me too fast. They didn’t want to risk me following you and telling anyone about HYDRA, so they put me under. They got me out about last year and I couldn’t help it, they got me again, but then you had to go and be an idiot.”

He glared a bit at his kid and Tony only smiled sheepishly back as Bucky continued scolding him: “What were you thinking putting yourself in danger with this Iron Man stunt and then you’re being irresponsible as well! Destroying your own home, partying. And that’s not the only thing, I do a bit a digging and find you were kidnapped and stuck in a war zone for three months and you have a big chunk of metal in your chest! You can’t believe the trouble you’re in and- Why are you looking at me like that?”

Tony smiled and said: “I’m glad you came back, Pops.”

Bucky smiled as well and said: “I’m glad to be back.”

He hugged his kid closer and then he teased: “But I didn’t come for you, you see my pinky won’t move. It’s quite sad, the pinky is a very important finger, and I just needed a mechanic. I did consider going to Hammer Industries, but they seemed kind of busy attacking an idiot so I just decided to see if you had a bit of time.”

Tony gaped at him then he opened and closed his mouth soundlessly for a few seconds before hitting Bucky and telling him that he was an immense jerk.

Right at that moment Pepper decided to drop in. There was a lot of explaining to do and Rhodey and Happy got involved as well. The three almost couldn’t believe it, but Bucky was the proof of his own. All made an agreement (and signed NDAs just in case) to never tell a soul and Bucky became hidden in Tonys personal space. They both couldn’t be happier.

~

2012

Two years later the Avengers assembled. A few weeks earlier Steve Rogers was found in the ice and both Tony and Bucky didn’t really know how to feel about it. They talked about it and in the end decided it was really cool that he was back, but they had to wait for the perfect moment to dramatically introduce (or reintroduce) themselves to the national icon. God, this was going to be hilarious.

So they didn’t have to wait long. As soon as Tony was on his way to the Helicarrier he let Bucky know where Steve would be, he smirked to himself, this was going to be great. They had a meeting and Bruce and Tony himself were tasked with examining the staff Loki was carrying when it happened. Steve got all high and mighty, then stormed off. He rolled his eyes at Bruce and said: “You know, my Pops always told me about him. This just makes me wonder if we’re better of with him in the ice.”

Bruce shrugs and replied: “The guy’s not wrong about Loki. He does have the jump on us.”

A voice from the table said: “You should listen to this fine gentleman, kid. And don’t sass me.”

Both scientist spun around, Bruce concerned when he saw a strange unknown man, but Tony grinning as he saw his Pops. He walked over and gave the man a hug. Bruce quietly asked: “Uhm, I don’t mean to intrude, but who is this?”

Tony looked back sheepishly and said: “Well, it’s a bit of a long story actually, but this is my Pops.”

Bruce squinted and said: “Tony, I don’t know how to tell you this, but Howard Stark has been dead for 32 years and he doesn’t look like that.”

Quickly Tony said: “Oh, no not him, uhm, you know how I was missing?”

Bruce nodded, now looking a bit concerned and a bit scared and confused. “It’s nothing bad,” Tony said as he waved his hands, trying to sooth the other man, “This old man here, saved me while I was kidnapped and cared for me until I could escape. I’ve known him since I was one.”

Bucky smiled and said: “I’m James, but most call me Bucky.”

“How does that work?” Bruce asked.

Bucky didn’t answer and just said: “I’m gonna disappear again, but I’m gonna make my big entrance. See you in a bit.”

Tony and Bucky waved at each other and when Bruce turned back from grabbing something the other man was gone. He looked at Tony for answers, but the genius just shrugged and told him: “He does that all the time, you’ll get used to it.”

“If he saved you, then why does he look so close in age. He can’t have been more than four when he found you.” Bruce said, excepting Tonys explanation about Buckys disappearing.

“It’s a long story,” Tony sighed, “but the short version is: science. You’ll probably hear soon enough, so don’t worry okay. Lets just find these secrets.”

Bruce let his shoulders sag, but he knew when he needed to drop something, so he did and focused back on the screens. It didn’t matter anyway, because then everything went to shit. Fury came in then Captain America himself too, there were weapons and more people entered. They were fighting about everything. Steve pushed off Tonys hand, after the man had claimed something about Bruce blowing off some steam, and said: “You know damn well why. Back off!”

Tony gave him a look and said: “I’m starting to want you to make me.”

Steve took a deep breath, he was starting to be done with the mechanic. As he circled Tony he said: “Yeah. Big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?”

Without missing a beat Tony replied: “Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.”

Steve started to reply, but was cut of by the voice from before: “Stevie, stop yelling at my kid. And Tony, quit the attitude or you’re grounded, buddy.”

The whole room got quiet as they observed this new presence in the room. Tony was the first to response, grinning cheekily he said: “You can’t ground me anymore, old man.”

Bucky stuck up one finger in a chiding gesture and said: “Don’t test me.”

Tony wanted to respond, but Nick Fury was faster. He demanded: “And who the fuck are you?”

Before Bucky could answer Steve breathed: “Bucky…” he had wide eyes and his mouth hung slightly open.

Tony slung his arm around Bucky and said: “I take it you know Pops?”

Steve chocked and started coughing while Natasha curiously asked: “Pops?”

“You don’t know the word?” Tony said with a cocked eyebrow, obviously challenging her.

She shot him a glare. Fury said: “That’s enough. Explain, now or we will not hesitate to hold you both.”

They both did the ‘I surrender’ hands and Bucky started: “I was the one who kidnapped Tony and murdered Howard and Maria Stark.”

Immediately an uproar began and Tony leaned over and said: “That might not have been the best thing to begin with.”

“Yeah, I’m seeing that now too.” Bucky replied.

Steve looked so worried and shocked as he asked: “How could you do that? You were friends.”

The rest was still talking and Tony quited them by yelling: “Can you all shut up for a second!”

Bucky used the silence to say: “I was brainwashed at the time. I couldn’t bring myself to murder a baby, so I broke free of my programming and took the kid and ran. We were recaptured a year or so later.”

“Programming?” Fury asked, not convinced.

“Yeah, mind control. Some people are really ahead in the field, but you know how it is. Evil organizations have a really hard time to find suitable employees these days, so this is the perfect alternative.” Tony interjected.

“What evil organizations is he talking about, Bucky?” Steve asked.

Bucky shot him a sad look and said: “You are not going to like this, but HYDRA.”

That was enough to set the room off again, but in the end they found themselves carefully relaying all the information they had about HYDRA and how their dynamic worked and what had happened between the two. When all was done Steve pulled Bucky into a deep hug, as they parted Steve said: “I’ve only been here for a while, but I really missed you.”

“I missed you too, punk.” Bucky smiled, then his face got more serious, “But I’ve been here for a while and I read up on you. What the hell were you thinking Steven Grant Rogers! I am presumed dead for a few hours, not even a day and you decide to crash a plane into the ocean without leaving coordinates!”

Steve smiled sheepishly, beside him Tony piped up and said: “Oh, you’re in trouble now. Good luck mate!”

He seemed awfully happy about someone else getting chewed out. It continued on for a few minutes, but Fury got their attention again: “We have to find out more about HYDRA later, now we have a loose God to deal with.”

The newly formed team looked at each other. These circumstances were not ideal, but they felt like they could make it work and if Tony got chewed out later for almost dying in a self sacrificing act, well, then that would be just fine, because this was going to be their family now as weird and dysfunctional as the circumstances it had been created in.

~

2015

“But if I build it the world could be safer.”

“You are not building a killer robot, kid, not even if it’s to protect people.”

“Ahw, you’re no fun, Pops.”

“I will ground you, young man.”

“It’s my house!”

“Don’t question me!”

“Yeah, don’t question him, Tony.”

“Keep to yourself, Rogers!”

[eternityunicorn]

Elijah’s Eternity: New Orleans Part Twenty Two +18

Author: eternityunicorn 

Genre: Romance/Drama/AU

Pairing: Elijah Mikealson x OC

Warnings: Some Smut (*Smut chapters marked +18)

Summary: Sequel to the AU Elijah’s Eternity - Ten years have passed, a mournful Elijah has finally started to move on without his lady. In that time, he has gained a reunited family and has also found a new lady love. Yet, all is not well as danger comes for the smallest member of the Mikaelson family: Hope, and it prompts Niklaus to call upon the white goddess, drawing her back into Elijah’s life. As they reunite, can Elijah really say he’s truly moved on?

NOTE: OC and original elements are from my up and coming novel series!

———————————————————————————————————

As Elijah predicted, abstaining from intimacy had been extremely difficult, especially since he hadn’t a need to hold back from his desires in the past. It was like having an addiction and trying to quit said addiction cold turkey verses doing so gradually. It was nearly impossible to do, even with impeccable control over oneself. And he had flawless control.

The first day had been particularly unbearable, but only because of the trauma he and Eternity had both faced just the day befriend. He had wanted her close, wanted her intimacy, to comfort them both, but with Kaname’s rule, they were forced to only give each other innocent touches and chaste kisses. These had been all fine and well, but he craved more. A feeling made worse as that night, they were also forced into separate chambers for rest. 

The second day had been much like the first, their interactions had been chaste and innocent to the point of driving Elijah to madness. Though, he did well in his management of keeping up appearances, keeping his inner torment masked behind his typical cool and collective exterior. Despite this act, however, he couldn’t help but to steal more kisses from his lady than usual and to give her seemingly innocent touches with hidden meaning every chance he got, whenever Kaname was otherwise occupied. It was their hidden language, their secret way of communicating their mutual desire for the other, while adhering to the priestess’s rules.

By the third day, the eve of their wedding, Elijah found himself a mess of need, joy, and excitement. Things that he couldn’t not share with his bride-to-be. The magically inclined Eternity kept herself busy with preparing the shrine for the wedding the following morning, before everyone started coming in from the other side of the world, along with Kaname and Fenrir. This left him to wander the grounds in a fitful ball of energy, praying for a distraction from all the pent up emotions welling up inside that he hadn’t a satisfactory release for.

Fortunately, his saving distraction came when his siblings began to arrive at the shrine. First it was Rebekah and Marcel with Kol and Davina. Then Finn and Sage with Freya and Keelin. Finally, Niklaus and Hayley arrived with young Hope soon after his older brother and sister. The reunion between Niklaus, Hayley, Hope with everyone else had been something to celebrate and certainly took Elijah’s mind off his struggles to abstain from his need for intimacy with Eternity. 

He spent his time with his whole reunited family, a joy in itself. Everyone was curious to know how life under the mysterious Underground Agency had been for the hybrid couple and their daughter since they rarely communicated due to the safety measures in place for their daughter. 

Niklaus spoke of intense training that he and Hayley had gone through as per the upcoming higher order ritual Eternity wished to perform, getting a head start on everyone else in that department. Even Hope had gone through rigorous teachings to make herself stronger as a Mikaelson witch.

“I never knew my true potential until I went to the Agency,” Elijah’s brother told him and their siblings. “I am a whole new creature already and I cannot wait to see how much further my future sister-in-law’s spell will take me, my wife and child, and all of you, of course. We shall all be of a new breed of being in this world.”

“I still think it is a terrible idea to let you have more power, Niklaus,” Finn piped up in that cynical way of his. “Same with Kol. The two of you are the most chaotic and monstrous of us. I fear it might be a mistake to allow either of you access to such greater strength, but who am I to question the will of a goddess.”

“Yes, it is a good thing this is not your decision to make, my dear Finn,” Elijah replied with a tight smile, before Niklaus or Kol could respond. “My beloved bride-to-be knows what she is doing. If our more adventurous siblings get too far out of line, I am certain she will put them in their much deserved places. Though something tells me that both shall forever remain on their best behaviors, as neither would want to feel the wrath of the Universal Queen.” He eyed his younger siblings meaningfully.

“Hey, I’m not the murder happy lunatic I was,” Kol defended himself, as he threw an arm around Davina who stood beside him. “I found a reason to temper my violent bloodlust,” he said as he gazed lovingly at the witch.

Niklaus put his hand on his heart with the most serious expression etched upon his face, “I swear to never abuse the powers and strengths granted to me by the gracious and merciful Universal Queen.”

“And you better hold to that vow, Niklaus,” called Eternity suddenly, as she approached the Mikealson clan, coming to stand beside Elijah. 

Niklaus nodded to her, “I swear it that I will uphold the vow made, just as I uphold always and forever.”

The well-dressed Original had to shove his hands in his pants pockets to keep from the temptation of whisking her away to do unmentionable things to her, but Elijah still smiled affectionately at her as she touched his arm in affection. 

“Have you finished your preparations for tomorrow morning, Sweetheart?” He asked her.

“Aye, we are all set for our wedding,” she replied brightly. “It shall be a splendid affair.”

“Uni!” Shouted Hope as the child caught eye of the immortal queen and came running over to hug Eternity tightly. 

“Hope!” The ethereal beauty bent to the girl’s level and embraced her just as tightly, before pulling back and holding the child at arms length. She grinned mischievously as she said, “I have missed you, young one. Come. Run with me!”

Stepping back away from Elijah, Eternity grinned and then changed shape right before all their eyes. With a loud musical sound, the unicorn took the place of the woman and the strange white beast didn’t waste time in racing off toward the woods. Young Hope laughed and went after her, while her family looked on with a mix of wonder, awe, and concern.

They all watched with fascination as the forest seemed to awaken from sleep upon the unicorn’s entrance. The quiet woods transformed into a lively place, bright and beautiful under the power of the mythical creature. It was unlike anything any of them had ever seen, save for Elijah, of course.

There were a lot of sniffles that waffled into the air even after the unicorn had raced off. Elijah’s siblings and their significant others all wiped their eyes of tears that had sprung up, curious and concerned as to why that was happening to them. Elijah felt teary eyed as well, but was certainly more prepared for that automatic reaction to the sight of the unicorn than the others.

“Bloody hell,” Kol said as he scrubbed the tears from his face. “What sorcery is this?”

“It’s not sorcery, just a natural response to seeing a unicorn,” chuckled Elijah, as he took his handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped his own eyes. “I’m not sure why it happens, only that it does when faced with the powerful sight of a unicorn.”

Hayley, with a slightly concerned expression as she dabbed her eyes dry, turned to Elijah, “Will Hope be alright out there?”

The older Original nodded, “Yes, she is with Eternity. There is nobody whom can protect her better than the powerful Universal Queen. You have nothing to fear.”

Realizing she was being silly right away, the female hybrid nodded back rapidly, “Yeah, yeah, right. Sorry, it’s just that I’m a little paranoid, I guess, with this Bruno person wanting to take Hope’s powers. I don’t feel very safe being outside of the protection of the Underground Agency, not after all the witch, vampire, and wolf killings that have happened because of that monster.”

“There is nowhere safer than these woods, my dear,” called Kaname suddenly, as she came to greet the newcomers. “That fiendish maniac Bruno wouldn’t dare to try and enter this sacred place. At least, not after what happened the last time he made such an attempt.” She smirked mysteriously. “Dark creatures, like him and some of you lot, are typically not allowed in this holy place, but I made a special exception for you lot, per my cousin’s request. Nothing unholy can penetrate this sacred place without my permission.”

At everyone’s curious looks in face of yet another Eternity clone, Elijah stepped up to introduce the miko, “Everyone, this is Kaname, Eternity’s cousin. She is our gracious host and will be the one to perform the wedding in the morning.”

Greetings were passed around quickly as everyone quickly dismissed the fact that Kaname was very much a clone of Elijah’s bride-to-be, just as Hel was. They were getting used to the idea that there was a strong family resemblance in Eternity’s family. 

Speaking of resemblances, Fenrir, the male version of Eternity, soon joined them as well, greeting everyone shyly in an awkward teen sort of way. He came to stand by him, choosing to be close to someone familiar with all the newcomers of whom remained unfamiliar.

From there, everyone settled in. There was talk and celebration of the joyous occasion that was to come in the morning. Elijah felt himself relax a great deal with the distraction of his family. It helped that his lady was elsewhere, far out of his reach, for the time being.

While he had kept occupied with his family, Eternity and Hope had been off on an adventure through the forest and they didn’t return to the shrine until sundown. When they did, Elijah’s niece was covered in dirt and grime, while the unicorn remained untouched by the filth of nature. The child had come back quite happy, giddy in fact, from whatever activities they had gotten themselves into in the hour or so that they had been gone. 

Hayley had insisted that Hope take a bathroom seeing her dirty child, which had dampened the girl’s good mood a little. However, Elijah’s niece did as her mother asked and went into the shrine to bathe. Kaname followed them to help out and to also prepare dinner, particularly for the non-vampires amongst the group, whom needed human food to survive. 

Niklaus had informed his vampire siblings that he had brought along an ample amount of blood bags for them, supplied to him by the staff at the Underground Agency. Therefore, nobody would need to go hunting in town for sustenance, while they were in Tokyo. It was best not to stir up trouble, Elijah’s brother had said.

That was good, especially for Elijah, whom hadn’t been able to feed off of Eternity during their period of abstinence. He wouldn’t be able to until after their wedding the next day. This was mostly because the temptation to take things further would be too great, if he did, as his lady tended to get off on his feeding from her. The sweet scent of her resulting arousal would drive him to take her completely without hesitation. 

So, to adhere by Kaname’s rules, it was best to not even tempt fate by taking her blood. Fortunately, Elijah hadn’t felt the hunger since arriving, after he had fed from Eternity in the back of the car that had brought them to the shrine and had remained subdued thus far. At least, he only had to make it a night more before he could resume feeding from his lady.

Not wanting to let his mind wander to the erotic memories that threaten to come to the forefront of his mind at the mention of the car incident, for the rest of the evening, he continued to occupy himself with the consistent talk amongst his family. In celebratory mode, drinks and laugher were abound as everyone sat down to a delicious dinner, magicked together by Kaname and Fenrir. 

Though the shrine was small, there was just enough room to flit everyone around the low set table for dinner. It was a tight fit, but they made do with being in such close quarters. Eternity had returned to her womanly form and sat next to Elijah with her son sitting on the other side of her. Niklaus sat on the other side of himself.

The chatter was pleasant and full of questions about Kaname, such as how old she was and why she continued to live on Earth, despite the laws that had separated the ancient immortals from the  the mortal world. The miko answered all their questions politely with a bit of amusement coloring her voice as she did. Something that reminded Elijah so much of Eternity, as she had that same look upon her face when she had first met his siblings.

The older Original listened with fascination as Kaname explained that she was over ten thousand years old, had lived during Ceres’ time, and had chosen to remain on Earth because it was her home that no other world could replace. Though that wasn’t the on,y reason. She had chosen to dedicate her life to helping mortals whom were desperately in need of divine intervention. She enjoyed humans and want to help them in one way or another, even if she only helped in small individual doses. 

Eventually, the meal and conversations wound down. Eternity took the opportunity to excuse herself, heading outside. She cast a glance at Elijah before she did so that was full of hidden meaning. 

Curious, Elijah followed, slipping away stealthily as to not arouse Kaname’s suspicious eye. The miko had made it a point to ensure the pair behaved themselves until the wedding; an annoyance, but an understandable one. She had become their designated babysitter during the past few days.

He found his lady standing underneath the torii gate gazing up at the stars that had begun to appear in the darkening sky. Elijah went to her, coming to stand behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist. He pulled her back against him with his head against the side of hers. He felt her hand come up and cover his while the other moved to cup the back of his head, holding him there. 

“And just why have you come out here, Sweetheart?” He asked her softly.

“I simply wanted to enjoy the nighttime...and I was hoping you would get the hint to follow me,” Eternity replied coyly, the smile evident in her voice. She turned in his embrace and kissed his lips sweetly. “I wanted a moment alone with you. We haven’t had much of that, not with the wedding preparations and Kaname’s insistent hovering. She takes tradition seriously, perhaps too much so.”

Elijah had to agree there. Though with his lady so close, he found it hard to keep his impulsive desires at bay. The struggle returned quickly with her nestled between his arms, her body nearly flush with his own. Perhaps the miko was in the right mind in keeping their interactions to a minimum.

Then Eternity smiled seductively and the Original knew he was in trouble. Her lips were upon his needfully with her arms wound around his neck and her fingers threaded through his hair. 

He gave in without hesitation, unable to resist her. He pried her mouth open with his tongue and diving in to taste her throughly. He pressed he closer, wanting to feel her body against his fully in ways he hadn’t been able to in days - ones that he still wouldn’t be able to until the following day.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” he growled against her lips, before resuming his plundering of her mouth.

“I think I do,” Eternity replied breathlessly, once she could will her mouth from his, just as one of her naughty little hands travelled down his front, over his chest to his abdomen to his clothed hardness.

Elijah gasped at the suddenness of her caress, having not anticipated her grabbing him so boldly. Then he hissed as she palmed him through his pants. It was enough to drive him to forget Kaname’s conditions for performing the wedding ceremony and have his bride-to-be as he had been wanting to for days.

Eternity was a bad influence, he concluded, and the chink in his self-control.

“Eternity,” he ground out, as he reigned in his control. 

Elijah willed himself to catch her misbehaving hand and pulled it away from his person. His gaze was surely fiery as he stared at her while he lifted the offending hand and kissed the palm tenderly. Then he returned it to it’s place around his neck. 

“You are going to be the death of me, I swear it,” he breathed with a wicked grin. “I cannot wait until after our wedding, because then this horrid abstinence period will be over and I shall take great joy in ravaging you completely.”

Eternity shivered pleasurably at his tone of dark promises and smiled. She kissed him with just as much seductive passion as before, while Elijah swore inwardly at her insistence to tempt him, to test him this way. She knew well that he wouldn’t allow for things to go further, no matter how much he wanted to. 

Still, Elijah allowed her to kiss him hungrily, letting her taste him as she pleased, before returning her affections tenfold by shoving her tongue out of his mouth and diving into hers with a need like no other. One of his hands wandered over the silkiness of her white and purple kimono, skimming over her breasts, kneading the flesh through the fabric. The other cupped the side of Eternity’s neck, holding her firmly while he plundered her mouth.

Things quickly grew heated all over again and Elijah found himself nearly lost to the passion that burned between them this time. Control be damned.

“Cousin!” Kaname’s stern voice called, snuffing out the passionate fire immediately. “Mr. Mikaelson!” 

As the guilty parties turned to face her, the priestess put her hands on her hips, like a parent that had just caught her children doing something they shouldn’t be. She looked very displeased with the little make out session they had been engaged in.

Instantaneously, Eternity pulled away from him and had enough sense to look sheepishly at her cousin, though it was obvious that she didn’t regret their moment together. Meanwhile, Elijah put his hands in his pants pockets and gazed at the older immortal with slight bashfulness and a hint of smugness. He certainly didn’t regret it either. Their moment together had been worth it.

“Forgive me, cousin,” Eternity said with a slight bow of her head, though by her tone, it was obvious she didn’t actually mean it. 

“Come inside, right now,” Kaname insisted and then chastised, “You two cannot be left alone. No self-control.”

The couple gazed at each other, before they broke out into smiles and light laughter as they made their way back inside the shrine. The whole while Eternity’s cousin lectured them as they followed her back to the others, where Elijah’s siblings began to tease them for whatever they had gotten themselves in trouble for.

Elijah let their teasing  slide off of him, as he found himself too distracted by the woman next to him, as they retook their seats at the low table. He simply couldn’t wait until the following morning, when Eternity would finally be his wife and they could finally start their life together as one unit. 

If only morning would hurry up and arrive sooner to put him out of his misery. 

To Be Continued....

———————————————————————————————————

Tag List: @elejah-wonderland @rissyrapp20 @mikaelson-trash @dendrite-lover @inmylifeilovedthemall @elejahforever @xanderling @hawaiianohana15 @missnmikealson @phoenix-potter-bailey @lolelijahishot @x-memi12 @iamaquarius2 @echosnowflake666 @scarlettsky0998 @zillahvathek @elijahandkollover

[47-protons]

I get a new favorite song and my brain will ocassionally scream it for no reason, like that comic of Candace kicking in the door going “MOM HOLY FUCK” but it’s just my brain going “BRIGHT DAY WILL TURN TO NIGHT, MY LOVE-”

[takingcourage]

A Blanket of Fog

A Desire & Decorum Gothic AU (Part 1 of 4)

Pairing: Harper x MC 

Word Count: 2,589

Summary: Against the backdrop of the “Year Without a Summer,” Helena is desperate to find a means of escaping her betrothal to the vile Duke Richards. She weighs her options, seeking comfort from the one her heart truly desires. 

Note: I’ve been planning and plotting some kind of Gothic AU for months, but it was the end of Book 1 that really got me writing. I’d originally planned for my feisty Sinclaire MC, Millicent, to be the heroine of this piece. After the Book 1 finale, however, I realized that there’s no doubt in my mind that Millicent will get her happy ending within canon. For my Harper MC, I’m not so sure. 

Helena is a gentle soul. Unlike Millicent, she doesn’t take to London Society with any ease. Family is all that she has ever wanted, and the promise of titles and riches holds no allure for her. A marriage of convenience is never going to be a satisfactory conclusion to her story, and an AU -- particularly one with gothic tropes -- provided a prime opportunity for me to construct a resolution better suited to her character.  As befits the genre, some elements of this story are a little bit wild. I’ve tried not to go overboard, but in later parts it may be necessary to suspend some measure of disbelief. This story has taken me out of my comfort zone in all of the best ways. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. : ) 

Words could not express how stifled Helena felt on that May afternoon. From her place on the settee, she could see little but grey shapes outside the window. As if following the preternatural fog outdoors, the house had fallen under a hush broken only by the occasional shuffling of servants and the incessant flapping of a bit of trellis which had detached from the side of the house. With every new howl of wind, it knocked wildly against the window’s outer trim, agitating Helena’s nerves as well as the painted wood.

The weather had taken a turn almost immediately upon their return from London. As the social season passed, so too had any notion of spring or warmer weather. The coolness had come first, then the oppressive fogs. This was a time when daylight should prevail through much of the evening, yet it had been days since Helena had truly seen the sun.  She settled further into the cushion to relieve the chill that passed through her frame at the thought of how long it had been since she’d seen blue sky.

During one of their morning conversations, Briar had mentioned the servants trading stories about sunspots and earthquakes. Neither woman knew enough of the sciences to guess whether there was any merit to the explanations. Helena knew only that the world around them seemed to mourn as she did.

She’d been shut up in the house for weeks now with little to occupy her time, every moment passing languorously. Beside the fire of the drawing room, it was bright enough to read easily, but on most days she was too anxious to be able to concentrate on any volume. Abandoning her favorite pastime, she’d resigned herself to knitting. That skill, at least, could be affected by touch with little need for light or thought. 

This morning, she’d woken feeling almost grateful for the terrible weather. In light of her recent betrothal, any delay to the impending marriage was welcome. At least if the world is ending, I don’t have to marry Duke Richards. The thought crossed her mind as she came to the end of her row, dropping the wooden needles to her lap as she took another long look out the glass.

She knew that it was foolish, but she felt so utterly alone. Mr. Marlcaster was one of the only people in the house whom she had opportunity to speak with, but she had seen little of him since their return. Happy as she was for the improvement of his marriage prospects, breaking off his engagement had removed the one natural companion that she might have had during this time of seclusion.  

Helena sighed, considering the other women of the house. Countess Henrietta had remained in her room for days on end, leaving Helena to assume that the woman viewed socialization as useless when there was no opportunity for manipulation. Her grandmother, in spite of many protestations, refused to see reason, insisting that she would come to thank her for the marriage she’d so lately arranged. Helena’s pleas about the liberties the duke had taken with her fell on deaf ears, leaving a strained relationship in place of the reconciliation she had sought.

Helena had been in routine contact with Briar, but today the maid had been employed with other tasks after dressing her mistress in the black crepe gown she now wore. More than anyone else on the estate grounds, the servants had been affected by the excessive rains and erratic temperatures which oppressed the earth.

Weary, Helena forced the stitches down from the pointed edge of the needle and laid aside her knitting. Her restless fingers traveled to her skirts, brushing against the smooth metal object tucked between folds of fabric. Her fingers laid hold of the coin Luke had given her, finding solace in the solid, immutable metal.

Go and see him, came the silent, familiar beckoning. She knew in an instant that she would obey. His presence was the only reason her sanity had not entirely left her these past days.

As long as it was not raining, venturing out of doors posed little danger to her safety, but the house had been rife with superstition and few dared to cross the threshold unless absolutely necessary. Her insistence on tending to Clover every afternoon had been interpreted alternately as a flimsy excuse to leave the house and a sign of madness, but she little minded. She took great comfort in knowing that her late father would have supported the decision.

Helena rose to her feet and pulled her shawl around her shoulders, tugging the ends into an untidy knot at her breast. Quitting the room, she wound her way through the halls until she reached the set of doors in the entry. She slipped between these quietly, hoping to cause the servants no further distress.

There had been no rain since yesterday, but without the sun, the grass was still saturated from previous storms. The cold was quite discernible through the thin soles of her shoes. At once, her shiver returned, leaving a pang of tension in its path. The stiffness in her neck had been ever present since she’d woken from her bout of fainting at Duke Richard’s ball.

Unbidden, she wondered what it would feel like to have Luke’s strong fingers there to relieve the tension. Her own ginger hand rose to the aching muscle as she traversed the lawn, lost in memories. Their journey through the night seemed a lifetime ago, but she had forgotten nothing of the gentleness in his practiced hands. Despite the cold air, her skin flushed at the thought of his warm skin.

Helena passed through the stable door, eyes adjusting to the light as the hinges creaked behind her. The cheerful glow of the lanterns and the earthy undertones of hay and horse brought a feeling of belonging that she had missed while inside the house. Mr. Harper glanced up at her from behind Prospero’s flank, his movements calm and methodical as he brushed.

“Lady Helena,” his steady voice had the strange effect of setting her heart to race. “Have you come to see how Clover fares this afternoon?”

His knowing smile prompted one of her own, and she ventured to the edge of the gelding’s stall to get a better view. Mr. Harper stood upright, pulling the strap of the dandy brush from his palm. She extended a hand toward the horse’s muzzle, stroking the bristly hair on his lips. “You know me too well, Mr. Harper. I always enjoy my time with Clover, but I must admit that I had hoped for an opportunity to speak with you as well.”

“Then the horses and I are fortunate indeed.” His free hand traveled to hers, resting on the fingers that rubbed the horse’s soft skin. Mr. Harper squeezed her fingers slowly, his calloused palm lingering against her fingers for several moments longer than polite society might have allowed. She sought his face again, the spark in his hazel eyes doing much to reassure her.

Unable to keep up the pretense any longer, her mouth betrayed her feelings in a racing whisper: “I love you, Luke.”

The tenderness of his gaze stopped the heart that had so recently seemed ready to burst from its place in her breast. “And I, you. We’ll work this out, Helena.”

“We could run away to Grovershire this evening,” she proposed. Some measure of peace had accompanied her declaration of feeling, and she found herself able to leave his side in order to see to her horse. Clover met her with an affectionate nuzzle, and she offered the animal a lump of sugar while waiting for Mr. Harper’s response.

“We aren’t desperate enough for all of that, my lady.”

Struggling to keep her voice even, she soothed the velvet fur of Clover’s ears. “I find it difficult to remain patient.”

From somewhere behind her, she heard the latch of the stall door close, and she tried to visualize the places where she heard his footsteps fall. She wasn’t certain, but she thought she could make out a sigh before he responded. “As do I. But your father wanted you as the heir to his estate. As long as you stay, there’s a chance that you can fulfill his wishes and have what is rightfully yours.”

Tears welled in Helena’s eyes, and Clover’s face blurred as her hand ceased its motion. “Father wished me to be happy with you,” she said simply. The rest, he knew already. Much of yesterday’s conversation had been consumed with her desire to leave this life behind her. Edgewater was no great prize to have won without her father there at her side.

“We will be, Helena. But I respect your father and his wishes too much to go about compromising. And if everything takes a turn for the worst, we’ll be leagues away before the Duke has any hope of getting to you.”

“Perhaps this weather has bought us a bit of time,” she mused, the thoughts familiar from her morning of pensive knitting. “Grandmother would not hear of my marrying until the banns have been read. After my father, she’s very particular about conventions...” Her mind caught on this last word, thoughts straying to how much she wished that all of her grandmother’s ideals might be thrown as chaff to the wind.

“And the countess?”

She knew he was wary of the woman, especially now that Helena’s fortune seemed secure. It was for this reason alone that they had endeavored to maintain appearances. Neither wished for the countess to have anything to say against them, and, much as she might wish to, spending too much time in the stables would have given rise to gossip that she could ill afford.

“I have seen nothing of her in days. Briar thinks she has been taken ill.”

The silence that met her words spoke volumes. Weaving her fingers through the horse’s coarse mane, she lifted her face to see Luke walking toward Clover’s stall. He stepped into the space quietly, footsteps shuffling over the hay which littered the flagstones.

“You’re a lucky girl, Clover,” he greeted the horse with his customary smile. “None of the other horses at Edgewater have masters who come and tend to them like your lady Helena.”

“They have you to look after them,” Helena insisted. “And with that they are far better off than any horses in all of England.”

“I fear they’ll soon tire of my fiddle. They’ve heard all of my war ditties many times by now.”

“I’m sure they take comfort in it, all the same.”

Although her view was blocked by the horse’s frame, she heard the telltale noises of his brush on horse hair. Helena combed through a section of mane, her fingers idly setting to braid. She wanted to say how much she looked forward to their next music lesson, but he spoke first.

“I’ll do anything I can to calm them.”

“I know.”

Comfortable silence prevailed for many moments as her mind wandered familiar trails. Being alone had afforded her much time for contemplation, and she was certain it was the same for Luke as well. This morning’s musings weighed heavily on her mind. 

“Luke?” she asked finally, her voice just above a whisper. She ceased her braiding and leant her head against Clover’s neck. Their close proximity gave her courage to drop formality as she had done before.

“Yes, Helena?” his response was swift.

“Would you really be satisfied if I married Mr. Chambers and did not take you as my legal husband?” The thought had plagued her for the past several mornings. On the night of the ball, she had been so elated at the prospect of a relationship with Luke that she had little thought of what it would mean for their future.

Luke was quiet for the space of several breaths. “I do not want to lose you, Helena. How can I scorn any path that allows us to be together?”

Her eyes pricked again, and she closed the lids tightly, seeking comfort in Clover’s familiar scent. “I wish to find another way. If I break off my engagement to Duke Richards and marry Mr. Chambers, I will gain Edgewater, but I will never be able to be seen with any other man. That may be fine for a time, but what will happen years from now? Our children will never be seen as legitimate, and I would not put them through the trials you and I have known.”  

There was a knot in her stomach at the thought of the children they might have together. She had passed a startling number of hours picturing them in her mind. But as much as she might desire children that were a perfect combination of their features, she knew that there was no possibility of them passing as Mr. Chamber’s offspring.

She sensed his presence beside her and looked to him with shimmering eyes. “Aye, my Helena.”

“I have no wish to leave Edgewater, but I would happily leave it for you. I want all of you.” Even as the words fled her lips, she knew that they were selfish. For if they left, she would not be the only one to make sacrifices. Edgewater had provided a comfortable position for Luke, and although he may be able to find modest work in some other place, there was no certainty in that path. 

“There are many decisions to make,” he offered quietly, leaving the rest unspoken.

And who will make these decisions? Helena tortured herself with the question, not content with the prospect of allowing others to control their lives. When Mr. Chambers had suggested their arrangement she had agreed to it without hesitation, seeing it as the fulfillment of hope she had hardly dared to look for. Now, in a time of such uncertainty, she couldn’t stave off thoughts that there must be some other way. 

“Then you are still content to wait?”

“Until this storm lifts or the world ends. We will make a way for ourselves, Helena. I swear to you.”

“I will go on thinking.”

“In the meantime, it is likely best for you to return inside. We don’t want to raise suspicions.”

She caught his eye meaningfully. “I only do so because I know a day will come when I no longer have to leave you.”

“I’m counting on it,” he agreed, taking her fingers in his strong grasp for just a moment. “Until tomorrow, my love,” he pressed a quick kiss to the back of her hand before releasing it. Their whispered words were a stark contrast to the howl of the wind on the other side of the thick walls, and her heart felt sick at the thought of leaving this refuge for the emptiness of the estate.

“Goodbye Luke.”

She left the stables then, her mind racing for a solution to their predicament. Had her eyes not been trained on the shoots of grass before her, she might have noticed the unfamiliar pair of eyes that surveyed her from an upper window.

[gone-to-fight-the-fairies]

The Thing Between Them Part 6

Series Summary: After watching 13x17, this is how I felt things would’ve occurred if Gabriel had left the reader all those years ago when he’d “died” and current day Ketch is trying to win her affection, but realizes she’s still heartbroken over Gabriel.

Summary: The reader, Ketch, and Charlie head towards the AU's base, while Sam, Dean and Sam scavenge to find Gabriel.

A/N: Thank you guys for your patience as I worked out issues with my internet provider! This installment features both boys, so there's something for everyone. There will be a part 7 (if not a couple more). The story keeps getting juicier and juicier.

Pairing: Gabriel x Reader, Arthur Ketch x Reader

Warning: Swears

Word Count: 1380

The sun dipped behind the formation of the wilderness trees, darkening the forest as the small group ventured towards Charlie's base. The group stopped underneath a row of tightly knit trees, hiding from potential harm as they lay-low for the night. The overhanging branches denied snowfall, leaving the ground mostly dry to make camp.

"We should get there tomorrow mid-day," Charlie confirmed, sitting up against one of the trees. "I have some food in my pack." Charlie focused on digging inside of her bag as you and Ketch sat across from her.

Silence encaptured the air, allowing Ketch's gaze to lingered over you quizzically. "What were the other reasons?"

"What?" Your eyes snapped to Ketch; confusion etched on your features.

Ketch raised a brow, watching you curiously. "You alluded that I was not the sole reason you impulsively jumped through the rift. Hence, there must be other reasons."

Charlie halted her roaming hand, eavesdropping on the conversation. You coiled into yourself, bringing your knees to your chest, hugging them. "There's a job that needs to get done," your voice grew tight. "You and Dean couldn't do it in the given timeslot, so I'm working off the clock." You paused, waiting for Ketch's attention to drop. When he continued to stare, you huffed, "That's all."

Ketch narrowed his eyes, concern pooling in the blue. "Are you alright?"

You huffed. "No. Honestly, I'm pissed that nothing's getting done this year. Jack and Mary have been gone for months, and we've had two chances now to get them back and squat."

"I wouldn't worry too much about your friends," Charlie spoke up, pulling out a crinkled ziplock bag filled with assorted nuts. She outstretched the bag toward you, but you politely declined as she continued. "Jack is so powerful, and Mary... she's one of the best hunters I've ever seen. They've given us all something to hope for again. We finally have a chance to end Michael. It'd be a shame to see them go so soon."

You soaked in the information, unaware of the vital roles Jack and Mary created in the span of time they'd lived in the alternative world. It made you rethink the real reason you jumped through the rift.

Charlie continued searching through the tightly packed bag, mumbling curses until she triumphantly pulled out a bottle of rich brown liquid. "A much as I enjoy your Jack, this is still my fav." Charlie uncapped the bottle, taking a long drink before passing it over to you.

After sharing the bottle a short while, Ketch revisited the same, pestering subject. "I'm rather surprised you left your angel; considering his current condition and all."

"Angel?" Charlie questioned, body tensing as her gaze shifted towards you.

"Easy," Ketch told her. "He's one of the good ones, or at least decent enough to care about humanity." Ketch's eyes turned back to you. "He's alright with you galavanting around another universe?"

"He left."

"He-he what?" Ketch stuttered, blinking in astonishment.

"You heard me." You gazed up at Ketch, expecting the man to gloat. "Lucifer never killed him. Gabriel pretended to die. That was his was of breaking up with me. He'd rather go shack up with porn stars in Monte Carlo, and that's exactly what he did."

"He left you... for porn stars?"

"And all of the pressures of the pending apocalypse, but yeah, that's exactly what he did. I know I don't look like one of his bimbos, but I deserved better than mourning him for eight years."

Ketch shook his head, looking away as he contemplated a thought. "I can't imagine anyone leaving you." He mumbled to himself, staring at stray snow by his boot.

"Oh please," you scoffed. "I'm not exactly the type of girl to go to war for."

"No, you aren't," Ketch agreed, gazing into your eyes.

"Well, at least you're honest." You took a swing of the bottle.

"You're worth starting a war." Ketch extended his hand. "Now, do plan on hogging Mr. Daniels all night?"

In the morning, Ketch woke late. Having fallen asleep last to ensure your safety, he woke without you at his side. Ketch instantly sat up, and found himself met with firey ginger hair hovering over him.

"Chill, bucko," she told him. "Your girl had to pee. She'll be back."

Ketch nodded, attempting to calm his increased heartbeat. Ketch stood up, shaking off the elements of the Earth as he caught his breath.

"And here I thought you were only trying to cope a field."

Ketch froze. "I have no idea what you're insinuating."

"Oh please, you're want to get in her mind as much as her pants. And using the crying-on-the-shoulder technique, very cliche."

Ketch bent down to grab a canister and brought it to his lips to sip. "Not that I am, but would it work?"

Charlie shrugged. "Eh. I think she'd already need to have some sort of feelings for you; she doesn't seem that naive."

"But I do have a shot?" Ketch inquired, specks of hope glistening in his eyes as he stared at Charlie expectantly.

Charlie shook her head in disbelief. "Heterosexual love, so strange."

Dean, Sam and Castiel scattered the country for nearly two weeks, scavenging to find any trace of the archangel. Ontop of having Mary, Jack and the AU's Charlie in the alternative universe, they now needed to rescue you. Time was ticking on the other side. The longer their friends and family were near Michael, the closer danger became.

Rowena narrowed down Gabriel's location to two separate states. While Castiel raced down to Texas, the Winchesters managed to take the accurate location. During a brotherly argument, there came a loud knock on their motel door.  

"Hey, fellas," Gabriel breathed heavily, clutching his side, oozing with bright red blood. "Looking for me?"

The Winchesters froze at Gabriel greeting, unknowing how to act first. Gabriel shook his head at them. "Care to let me in? I am bleeding out here."

Sam offered an arm, helping the archangel to the motel couch, where Gabriel plopped down. Both Winchesters hovered over the injured angel, arms crossed in unity.

"So, now you're in trouble?" Sam asked.

Gabriel chuckled, looking down at his wound. "What gave you that idea?"

Both Sam and Dean glared at the archangel.

Gabriel brushed off their resentment. "Yeah, I'm returning some knives previously launched into my back." When neither Sam or Dean responded, Gabriel scoffed, "I'm getting revenge on the dick bags who sold me to Asmodeus. This," he pointed to his injury. "is the cost of crossing one of the names off my list."

Gabriel shifted on the couch. "So anyway, umm... I don't suppose you guys have any more of my grace laying around. Cause the tank's a little low. It'll recharge eventually. But, uh, until then..."

"Whatever we didn't use on you we used on the rift." Dean spat. "And we need more."

"No," Gabriel began to rise from his spot on the couch, but groaned, rolling back. "Ugh." Gabriel eyed the boys. "Since I'm stuck here, I may as well ask, uh... why do you need more?"

Sam and Dean glanced at each other. Eventually, Sam turned back to Gabriel, licking his lip before speaking. "Uh, because of Y/N."

Gabriel's nonchalant act dropped immediately. Despite the pain Gabriel endured, he sat up, leaning closer to the youngest Winchester "What the hell happened? Is she hurt?"

Sam stepped back, allowing Dean to fill in the gaps. "She went through the rift."

Gabriel's face twisted into conversion. He attempted to stand but fell back on the couch. His injury didn't sustain his voice as he burned a hole through Sam. "I told you to protect her!"

"It gets worse. When I left, there were angels after Ketch and I. He stayed behind to fight them off, but with Y/N jumping through... the angels may have her."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed, rage encapturing his features. "Revenge can wait."

TTBT Taglist:

@whovianayesha @herangelicvirtue

@heliosparadox

@nobodys-baby-now @eurusholmmes @natashacamillaus @sherlockedtash88 @alangel1895 @countrygrl863 @hunterpuff @stargazingkiddo @supernaturalymarvel @koithings @superwholock-fangir1 @kissmeimadragonlord @marianita195 @honeyicouldntthinkofaurl @laurajw14 @thecutestlittlepiggyisme @fandom-trash-worth-it @jordynhartley2001 @dont-trust-a-doe @typicalweirdbookworm @proudshipper @ernesto-deserved-it @kestrelsparverius @jayyx3oxo @waywarddaughterwrites @sumara62 @myfandomlife-blog

@mercilss-strike 

@archangelashiah

@angelontheinside

@crazyevilninja-is-lame

DW:

@quixoticcat @omgcupquak3stuff @justafangirlinaspnworld-blog @room-with-a-cat @bananyaaa @clueless-gold @fairytale07 @actualpsychopath @impossiblyimportantnightmare02

[byeler]

79 and byeler 😊😊😊

thank you love!!

79: “Stop hogging all the blankets!” 

word count: 2.6ksummary: When a snowstorm knocks their power out, Will doesn’t want to sleep on his own. Mike doesn’t seem to mind.

[read on ao3]

There were very few times in his life that Will everregretted moving to New York. He loved everything about the city, about hisschool, about living with his best friend. He loved being able to walkeverywhere, he loved that his classes were fun but challenging, a sharpcontrast to anything at Hawkins High, and he especially loved his apartment,courtesy of a substantial scholarship from the kind people at Hawkins NationalLaboratory. Living away from home was its own sort of difficult, and some dayswere tough, but all in all, Will thrived being away from Hawkins. He had Mikeliving with him. He had Jonathan living in Brooklyn, just a short cab ride away.He had his mother’s boundless love, which he was reminded of every time hecalled her.

He did not, for one moment, truly doubt his decision untilthe March of 1993.

Indiana was not, by any account, a tropical climate, andWill was not an unreasonable person. He did not expect a lot from the month ofMarch; perhaps some sunny, almost-spring days that teased the warmth of thenext few weeks, but nothing outrageous. He did not expect pool weather, or evento have to leave the house without a coat most days. He did, however,absolutely expect to not be frozen in his apartment with no power, no heat, andno hope of leaving for at least the next three days.

They were calling it the storm of the century—or they were,at least, until their power went out and they couldn’t watch the news anymore. Mikehad dug out his old hand crank radio from somewhere high in a closet, but afterwinding it in turns for nearly half an hour, the battery had only stayed alivefor five minutes, and they hadn’t managed to find the right station in thattime.

“Now how are we gonna know if class is cancelled?”  Will had joked, sighing as the static of theradio died out.

“If any of our professors can make it to class in thisweather, I’ll let them fail me.” Mike shrugged, sounding exactly like thecollege senior he was. “I don’t care. They earned it.”

The electricity had cut off sometime midday, when the snowwas nearing a foot high, but the sun reflecting off the snow had kept theapartment bright enough. Mike had lit candles later in the afternoon, whichadded little warmth but enough light to move around without crashing into theirfurniture. It was a quiet day, mainly consisting of catching up on schoolwork withtheir extra time. Will threw himself into the painting he was working on forhis portfolio, desperately trying not to think about the obvious issue anddesperately hoping that, by some miracle, the power would be back on beforebedtime.

Will didn’t need to be told how absolutely childish andridiculous it was to be nearly twenty-one and to still sleep with a nightlight.He knew perfectly well that he had nothing to fear in the dark. He didn’t livein Hawkins anymore, the shadow monster was gone, and he had zero reason tothink anything would happen to him if he fell asleep without a light on. Willwas an entirely logical person who knew nothing would happen that night, regardlessof how dark his room would be. He was fine. He was fine. He was fine.

His hands were shaking when the sun sunk below the horizon,enough that he had to put his paints away for fear of messing something up. Itwasn’t a good idea to paint in the low light, anyway. Soon after, Mike announcedthat he was ready for bed and picked up a candle to take into the bathroom withhim, leaving Will by himself in the living room. Will curled up with a blanketin front of their propane heater, hating how stupid he was being, and willedhis breathing to return to normal.

“Hey,” Mike said, exiting the bathroom a few moments later.“I left the candle in there if you wanna go brush your teeth.”

Will raised his head, probably looking exactly as patheticas he felt. “Mike,” he croaked, his throat dry.

It took Mike less than a second to realize what washappening. “Will,” he said, walking forward with arms outstretched. “Hey. It’sokay. You can sleep in my room tonight.” He gripped Will’s shoulders tightlyand gave them a small shake.

Will blinked, looking at him with wide eyes. There wereseveral things he wanted to say, but he couldn’t seem to get any of them out.He wanted to protest, say he was an adult that would be fine sleeping one nighton his own. He wanted to thank Mike for never, ever making him feel like aburden, even though he was so incessantly needy. He wanted to cry. “Okay,” hefinally managed. “Okay. Thanks, Mike.”

“Sure,” said Mike casually. “Just go brush your teeth beforethe candle goes out.”

Will obliged, and Mike moved the heater into his room andturned it up, insisting on getting the most out of of it before they had toturn it off. They didn’t have enough gas to last them the rest of the week ifthey kept it running overnight, and it was a fire hazard, anyway. Will gatheredall of the blankets in the apartment and dumped them on Mike’s bed, spreadingthem out evenly across his mattress, and Mike shut the heater off with amournful look. They clambered in quickly on either side of the bed, a candle onboth night stands, and settled into the freezing sheets.

“Thanks again, Mike,” said Will, shifting a little to tryand warm up the sheets.

“Yeah, no problem,” said Mike. “This is better, anyway. Iwas gonna let you take the heater, but this way we didn’t have to argue aboutit.”

Will’s eyebrows furrowed. “It’s your heater. I wouldn’t havetaken it.”

“Yeah, but you hate the cold, so I wouldn’t have taken it,”Mike said with a shrug. “So it’s good, because now we can share it.”

It wasn’t worth the argument, Will told himself, and he didhis best to resist the urge to insist that he absolutely would not have takenMike’s heater. “Yeah, it’s good. Thanks, Mike,” he said instead, muffling ayawn.

“Are you gonna fall asleep soon?” Mike asked.

“Probably.”

“Okay, good. I’ll stay up and then I’ll just blow out thecandles once you’re asleep.”

Will paused, a frown forming. “You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s fine. I’m not that tired. I don’t mind.” Mike had beenyawning for half an hour before he got ready for bed, so Will didn’t believethat one for a second.

“Mike, come on. I’ll be fine.” Which was a lie, really,because the only reason he was in Mike’s room in the first place was because hewas too much of a baby to sleep in his own room without a nightlight.

“I really don’t mind, I promise,” said Mike, in an earnesttone that made Will feel even more guilty. “Just go to sleep.”

“How am I supposed to sleep with all this pressure on me?”

“There’s no pressure!” Mike insisted. “Just relax.”

Will sighed. “I’m not gonna be able to relax now. You go tosleep.”

“Will.”

“Mike.”

“It’s fine,” he said in his gentle, just-for-Will voice. “Goto sleep.”

Will groaned and sat up, blowing out the candle on his sidetable. He turned to Mike, looking determined. “Blow that one out,” he said,pointing to the other candle on the other nightstand.

Mike gave him an exasperated look. “Will, come on. I don’tmind.”

“I do. I won’t be able to relax with you worrying about me.Blow it out.”

“I won’t be able to relax while I’m worrying about you!”Mike protested.

“Then stop worrying. I don’t need you to.”

“You stop worryingand go to sleep.”

Will groaned and leaned over Mike, shoving him down into thebed. He blew the candle out with an overdramatic huff and threw himself back onhis side of the bed. He heard Mike release a small sigh behind him. Will hatedsnapping at Mike, but Mike also knew that he hated being babied. He grabbedonto the pillow and mashed in into a more comfortable shape.

“Good night, Will,” said Mike.

“’Night, Mike.”

It was darker than he expected, which he chided himself for,because it was only dark due to his stubbornness. But he couldn’t exactly admitto that, so he settled himself under the blankets and closed his eyes, forcinghimself to focus on the familiar, comforting scent of Mike’s bed instead of theheavy darkness surrounding them.

He drifted into a restless sleep.

Will was awoken by a tugging sensation on his side,insistent and annoying. He made a whiny sound in the back of his throat, tryingto will the feeling away with his sleep-addled mind.

“Will,” he heard Mike murmur. “Stop hogging all theblankets.”

Will blinked twice, trying to process what was happening. Ittook him a moment, but he finally groaned, “There’s like seven blankets, Mike.”As if to prove a point, he buried his head under one of them.

“Yeah, and you’re hogging all of them.” Mike tugged again,more forcefully than before, and the large mass of blankets covering him slidto the side, leaving half of his body exposed.

“Hey!” he cried, grabbing onto the edge of the pile. “Nowyou’re hogging them.”

“Shit, sorry,” Mike sighed, his voice still groggy withsleep. “It’s too heavy. Every time we move all the blankets come with us. Yourolled over in your sleep and left me exposed to the elements out here.” He didhis best to rearrange the sheets so that they sat evenly on top of the two ofthem again.

“Well, then this isn’t gonna work,” said Will, but he pulledthe corners on his side up anyway. “If one of us rolls again, we’re gonna befrozen half to death. This weather is so stupid. It’s almost spring, it shouldbe warm,” he whined, burrowing underneath the covers, leaving just his eyespeeking out. “Maybe we should just split them up and each take half.”

“Fuck no, are you kidding?” Mike asked. “I’m already on theverge of hypothermia. I can’t handle even less blankets.”

“Maybe we should just turn the heater on, then.”

Mike paused for a moment, mulling it over. “Honestly, I’mless concerned about running out of gas and more worried that Mr. Giordano isgonna know that we left it on all night and he’s gonna come and kill us for havinga fire hazard in his apartment.”

Will blinked, entirely too tired to process what he wassaying. “Mike. Our landlord isn’t gonna murder us.”

“Whatever. Better idea,” Mike sidetracked. “Come here.”

“What?”

“Come here,” he said again, and he grabbed Will’s waistwithout further warning, pulling him towards the center. “If we’re closer, wewon’t pull the blankets off each other,” he said, sounding sort of proud.

Will didn’t exactly know what to do, face to face with Mikein his bed. Mike’s hands lingered around on his hips for just a moment toolong. Will tried to pretend he didn’t notice. He must not have looked as calmas he was trying to convince himself he was, because Mike asked in a concernedvoice, “Okay?”

It wasn’t the first time they shared a bed, nor was it thefirst time they were so close to eachother. It wasn’t uncommon for Mike to swing his legs onto Will’s lap during Seinfeldmarathons, or for Will to ask for a long hug after a tough day. So it wasn’tnecessarily out of the ordinary for them to huddle together like this, allthings considered. They did this kind of stuff all the time. It wasn’t weird, there was nothing meaningful aboutthis, and Will would keep telling himself that until he believed it.

“Yeah,” said Will. “I’m okay.”

“Okay.” Mike yawned, blinking back his tiredness, and hesmiled blearily down at Will. Will gave a tentative smile back. There was apause, a brief moment filled with something Will couldn’t name, before Mikeinhaled. “Actually, better idea.” With that, he reached for Will’s waist again,simultaneously pulling him closer and twisting him so he faced the other way. “Bodyheat,” he said, his voice a little stretched. He stumbles over his words a bit.“And this way, no one will roll.”

Oh. Oh. Okay. Theyweren’t facing each other anymore, but it was somehow more intimate this way, withMike’s arms around him but his hands hovering a little unsteadily in front ofthem. Will could feel the hesitation in Mike’s movements, the lack of his usualassuredness, and it hit him suddenly: this was new, this was different, andthis was making Mike nervous. He was making Mike nervous.

It was sort of thrilling, the idea of Mike not knowing whatto do for once in his life. Will reveled in it a tiny bit, allowing it tosettle his own nerves. He didn’t have to be worried about the fact that he was,by all accounts, now snuggling with his best friend, because Mike was toonervous to do anything unpredictable, anyway. Will smiled to himself, and Mikefinally let his hands relax, brushing up against Will’s stomach.

Will gasped, not expecting the sudden movement, and foundhimself shrinking away from them. “Your hands are cold.”

“I know, I know, sorry,” Mike said, a twinge of tenseness tohis words. “It’s ‘cause you left me exposed out here.”

“Sure,” said Will, biting back his grin, “blame it on me andnot this ridiculous weather.”

“Hey, whose idea was it to move to New York?”

“Whose idea was it to follow me?” Will shot back.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Mike dismissively, lovingly, and Will could hear his warm smile in every syllable. He settled back down, placing his handsa careful distance from Will. “Still worth it.”

The words sent a flutter through his heart, a soft reminderthat even after everything, Mike still didn’t think of him as a burden, that hetoo never regretted his decision to move to New York, that he wanted to be herejust as much as Will wanted him here. Will had to stop himself from doingsomething stupid, like crying, or turning around and kissing Mike senseless.

“Here,” said Will instead, finding Mike’s hands with hisown. In a rare and sudden burst of confidence, he slid his hands over the backof Mike’s, lacing their fingers together. “Body heat,” he said, shocked at howcalm he sounded, considering the rate at which his heart was beating. He pulledMike’s hands towards him, settling them on his stomach.

He heard Mike behind him, trying to speak but struggling tofind words. Will held perfectly still, a little unsure if he had actually foundthe courage to do that or if he was still asleep, dreaming this entire thingup. After a moment, he felt Mike exhale and start to relax, pulling Will closer,tangling their legs together, resting his chin on top of his head.

It was almost too hot, buried beneath seven blankets andwrapped in his best friend’s arms, but Will allowed it to engulf him, to pourover him, to coax him back to sleep. He basked in the warmth of theiralmost-something, of whatever this was, and fell into in wholeheartedly. Hewould take this. It was enough for now.

“You’re right,” said Will, as Mike stroked a soft thumbalong the back of his hand, “this is better.”

[buttsonthebeach]

oh my god...you have a widower Solas timeline? I cannot resist that!!! How about from your wintery prompt list "children in windows" with single father Solas, as sad and angsty as you want to get....I eat it all like popcorn.

Angst ahoy in the Awakened AU! Ashara and Saeris are 20 and 15 in this - somehow I couldn’t find a place to work that detail in. Couldn’t get it together enough last night to have it done in time for DWC, but I hope you enjoy anyway!

Content warnings: grief, loss of a parent, mourning, implied depression

Pairing: Past Solavellan

Rating: General

Note: Solas learns to be enough. 

It was their first First Day without Ellana, and Solas knew he wasn’t enough.

His daughters loved him. He’d been close to both of them from the moment they were born. He was never absent - in fact, Ellana’s work as ambassador took her away from home more often than his own arcane research did - and he made a point to know what went on in both of their lives. Their friendships and adolescent crushes and fears and joys.

But he wasn’t enough.

He wasn’t Ellana.

He kept forgetting things, that holiday season, mere weeks after she died.

Some of it was Skyhold. They were not in their own snug house in Enasan for Satinalia. They were still in the huge, haunted castle, bidding good-bye to the friends who came from far and near for the funeral.

Ellana was gone. It was an absolute, stomach-hollowing sentence. His daughters had no mother now. He had no wife.

And he kept forgetting little traditions.

Like the fact that Ellana would clean the house in the days leading up to First Day, driven by some instinctive need to start the new year with their home clean and fresh, and now all three of them stood there and missed the smell of lemon and lavender and the echo of her scolding voice. I swear, the three of you and your dirty plates, if there was a spell to clean them would you use it, or do you just like seeing me in here cleaning them?

He cleaned, but it wasn’t the same. Not without her. The brightness was gone even from lemons and lavender.

He remembered to bring home their favorite meal, at least, on the last night of the year (on the last night of the year that Ellana was still alive, on the last night of the year that Ellana died). The expensive roast from the inn down the road that made them for the holiday and sold them to families who couldn’t or wouldn’t cook - a big clay pot full of succulent meat and herbs and spices and vegetables. And then, of course, a big chocolate cake from the bakery nearby.

Neither he nor Ellana was a particularly gifted cook. This was what they had done since that long ago First Day when Ellana was heavy with child, Ashara an unknown quantity in her belly. Since that other, long ago First Day, when they looked out the windows at the cold world together - him, Ellana, Ashara, and Saeris safe asleep in Ellana’s arms, a little three-month-old thing. Those spices, that first rich bite of cake - that was their First Day. They’d eat the roast first, of course, and then light their candles and put them in the windows of their little home, and sit with their cake and look out at the candles the other families put in theirs, and reminisce about the year that passed.

When he returned home with both precious packages balanced carefully between his arms, their First Day feast prepared, he found Saeris sitting on the couch with her sketchpad, her back to the window and its unlit candle. She didn’t leap up like usual and dance around him, hoping for her first bite of food. And Ashara was nowhere in sight.

“I’ve brought dinner,” Solas said, moving towards their little kitchen, their small dining table. Saeris looked towards him and smiled without parting her lips. “Where is your sister?”

“She’s been in her room since you left.”

He should not have been surprised.

Ashara found it difficult to leave her bed most days now. It was only with his constant coaxing that she did so. She’d seen her first chance to slip back into her room when he left and gone back. He’d hoped that the joy of First Day - of Saeris’s companionship - would be enough, but…

“Well, then we have to go and wake her, won’t we?”

Saeris didn’t get up to go with him and he didn’t mention it. It wasn’t Saeris’s place to care for her older sister after everything she’d been through. It was his. His alone, now. And there was a mystery between he and Ashara ever since she came back from Tevinter hoping to save her mother’s life, a gulf - they kept managing to say the wrong words to each other, kept getting into stupid arguments.

He hesitated outside her door. Maybe he would only make things worse by going in. He felt the instinctive urge to turn to Ellana, to say you are better at such things than I am. He swallowed it. He had to be enough on his own.

“Da’vhenan,” he called into the darkness of her room. The lump on her bed didn’t stir. “I have our roast and our cake. I thought we would eat dinner and light the candles soon.”

No movement, no reply. He went to her and put a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes were open, shining in the dark, but she didn’t acknowledge him. He sifted through his mind for words but they were so much sand, slippery and insubstantial. I want to lie down, too. I want to lie down in the dark and shut my eyes and pretend I can hear her breathing next to me. But we have to go on.

“I will not make you come out,” he said finally. “But your sister and I would love to celebrate the new year with you. Even if you just came and sat with us, that would make us both happy.”

He ventured a soothing circle on her back. Ashara didn’t react at first. Then she nodded, almost imperceptibly. He squeezed her shoulder, then stood and left the room. It went well, didn’t it? But he still felt hollow. It didn’t go well enough. He didn’t have the right words.

He and Saeris ate their roast quietly at a table with two empty chairs. They were like that, though, the two of them. The two quiet watchers in their family. He needed to be more than that now. He scraped up some sauce. Cleared his throat. And began the next tradition.

“What are your favorite memories of this year, Saeris?”

She looked at him with eyes as gray as her mother’s. Thought about it for a moment, pushing carrots and potatoes around on her plate. Then responded.

“I don’t know.”

“I am certain - I am certain there are some.”

“I will think about it.”

Another failure.

He was not meant for this. He was not meant to carry the weight of a family this way.

They cleaned up from dinner, leaving a plate out for Ashara. Then Saeris returned to her spot on the couch and the idle drawings in her sketchpad, and Solas stood there, adrift, looking once again at the unlit candle in the window.

“Come,” he said eventually. “It is late enough. Let’s light the candle and look out. Just for a short while.”

Saeris nodded and stood from the couch and joined him. Solas started to pull a small flame across the barrier of the Veil, then hesitated, looking to his youngest instead. They were always encouraging her, she and Ellana. She was never as confident in her gifts as a mage as Ashara was.

“Go ahead, da’len. You do it.”

Saeris frowned, and then with a flick of her fingers, the candle snapped to life. She offered him a small smile.

“Very good. You’re getting better with elemental magics, don’t you think?”

She nodded. She played with the flame for a moment, making it dance, and then she just looked out the window at the darkness of the city beyond, interrupted by tiny motes of light from other candles, other families. It was a still and peaceful night. Solas felt empty from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes. Ellana used to lean up against him while they watched. Warm and sure and his.

They were just ready to turn away from the window when he heard the hush of Ashara’s bare feet on the wood floor. She had a blanket from her bed wrapped around herself. She looked exhausted. But she was there.

“Did you already share your favorite memories?” she asked when she reached them.

“We brought it up, yes. Did you want to share one?” She didn’t need to know that both of them had failed, utterly, to think of one on their own.

Ashara pulled the blanket tighter around herself. “Let’s look at the lights.”

So they did. They didn’t count as they had in years past, when the girls were younger. They just watched as they winked in and out - a hundred hundred other families ending one year and starting another. Solas searched again for words. What did they need from him, in this moment, as they headed into their first year without their mother?

“This will be a good memory,” he said finally. “The three of us, here. Someday.”

Two pairs of eyes turned back to him, questioning, and suddenly he didn’t feel hollow anymore. He felt so full he choked on the feeling. He still had them. He would be enough because it was what he had to be.

He put an arm around each of them and pulled them close, and for once they didn’t grumble - no Papaaee, we’re too old - but instead shifted around until the three of them were comfortable and they could tuck themselves against him. Tall Ashara and shorter Saeris. He would not fail them.

He held them as long as they wanted, and eventually they drifted away together, headed for bed. He watched them go. Then he stood and watched the lights until they all flickered out, and he knew his daughters were asleep and he was alone, and he could safely sit and drop his head in his hands and breathe deep and mourn and prepare to be enough for all the years to come.

[estro-gem]

Black and White in Grey: Chapter 27

Author’s note: No regrets!

CHAPTER 27: PEACEFUL AGONY

The Sun Princess crumbled like the remains of an old abandoned building.

Her lifeless body lost its radiant glow, the flames of the mane and tail died out and her form returned to her former self. Much to the horror of almost everypony in the area, Celestia remained motionless. Luna, now returned to her former form, was the only pony to hold her cold and stern gaze – not filled with hate, but with disappointment.

She didn’t want things to end the way it did, but it was necessary for the sake of the kingdom; and as much as she didn’t want to admit it to herself, it was the justice she was entitled to. The elements of harmony demanded it.

Twilight’s choked sob brought the Dark Princess reality. Of course, no one really knew what to make of the sudden turn of events. A former student just witnessed the fall of her teacher, the idol and her friend. The princesses locked eyes for a moment as Twilight struggled to find her words.

“Celestia… she’s… did she… did you just…” another sob escaped her, “How could the elements of harmony do this? Take her life…”

Luna quickly answered the purple pony, “My sister is not dead, Twilight. She’s in a state of deep sleep. She will not respond to anything, nor will she wake up. Not for a long time.” It is evident in the blue pony’s voice that she was drained.

“The elements are capable of anything, Twilight.” Discord’s lower pitched voice broke through the air in a surprisingly calm purr. He appeared from the rising smoke to join Luna’s left side by walking with a relaxed swagger, “All in favour of harmony, but even that is not without fault. The power can by altered with very powerful efforts, such as the power of a princess. Look at what happened to Luna. Even as stone, I felt the alterations that Celestia made on the day of Luna’s banishment. The elements did sentence her banishment, but the Sun Princess deemed that 5 years were not enough.” The last phrase was finished with a low growl of disapproval.

Twilight’s breath was caught in her throat by the draconiquus’s words. Celestia would never do that. 5 years altered to a 1000? That was madness! “The princess would never do that! She wouldn’t!”

“Oh, but she did.” Discord answered with a flash in his eyes, “I can show you if you prefer that. You know that if there is one thing I can’t do –“

“-is change the past.” Luna finished, approaching the Twilight slowly.

“I know that!” The youngest princess cried out, “Show me!”

“I will not let you see from your eyes, I’ll show you through Celestia’s,” Discord said before flying to charge into Twilight, making her brace for impact and pinch her eyes.

She was shoved through the pillar that she hid behind during the sister’s fight, being the last blow that it could take before it began to crumble down. Twilight laid still, in pain, before pushing up slowly between the broken pieces that rained down and looking up to face her opponent. Her flank stung where she was shoved by Discord, so she knew that it was a blast of magic that sent her flying. She found that it was dark and that there was an eclipse. There was a hole in the roof diagonally above her.

She turned to look for something, her hazy mind struggling to comprehend her surroundings, but her eyes locked onto her desired structure. It was where the elements of harmony was held. She needed them to bring harmony to the kingdom and do what needed to be done!

Upon the sight of the elements, she used her magic to bring them near, flew up to the dark sky and shone like a new star. She locked onto Luna, who was presented in the glory of Nightmare Moon. Celestia felt anger and fear, along with jealousy. She felt powerless and she hated it. She hated that Luna was the one who had the attention and fearful curiosity of all who dared to set foot on the streets to see why the moon was blocking the sun.

She hated that Luna refused to obey her and wanted nothing more than to punish her. Her little sister, always rebellious and always excused. Why could she never listen? She even dared to defy her and blast her with magic! Well this time, the elements of harmony was in her favor. They wanted to banish her… for five years…

It was barely a punishment! No, this time she called the shots. She would do whatever it takes to prove that she was in charge! No matter what the cost. Banishment? She’ll be banished, alright. Banished for as long as she could push it!

She prepared her spell and her eyes stung at the effort, as it felt like knives that dug into her skull and tears streamed down her cheeks. Luna prepared her spell as well, but Celestia knew she’d already won and she will bathe in the glory of the power over her sister for the 1000 years to come, where she will reign alone – without a pestering little sister to share it with.

As she deserved.

…

Twilight blinked. Luna? Her sister?

She looked around, finding her feet steadily planted on the ground, standing in front of the sleeping white princess as she was moments before. It took a moment to recall that she was just under Discord’s spell to see through Celestia’s eyes. She was Twilight and she was heartbroken. Twilight looked up at Luna, who’s eyes were wide with terror and sadness. The princess shared the emotions and realized that Luna saw everything too.

Without thinking, Twilight rushed into Luna’s chest and wrapped her wings and fore-hooves around her with tears streaming down her face. Luna was too stunned to react at first, but soon returned the embrace as well. Discord just sighed in relief and sorrow. The purple princess finally knew exactly how much Celestia resented Luna. Luna finally knew that it wasn’t all her fault. Finally.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Twilight chanted between shaky breaths, “I’m sorry.”

Tears freely flowed down the Night Princess’s cheeks, but didn’t sob or cry. She didn’t have the strength to cry anymore. The air was knocked from her lungs and she could only blankly stare in front of her. Her sister hated her… and even when knowing that, she couldn’t bring herself to hate her back. She still loved her – still mourned the loss of the bright image her sister made in her mind. Nothing will be the will ever be the same again.

Luna didn’t even flinch when she felt Discord’s claw on her back, but turn her head to meet his serious expression. Twilight pulled away and sniffled to a moderate silence, bringing the three to stand in a circle. She looked at Celestia, still sprawled on the floor and asked with a shaky voice, “How long will she sleep?”

“30 years.”

“It hardly fair. You were punished for 1000 years.” Twilight muttered through gritted teeth. It caused the older two to widen their eyes in shock. Luna was quick to speak and quietly demanding the Princess of Friendship to look her in the eyes.

“The elements demanded 150 years! I will not stoop to my sister’s level. I know that I was wrong to force darkness upon Equestria all those years ago. I was wrong to hurt my sister too, but by some chance I got another chance at life with friends that I do not deserve. You, Cadence and Discord.” Luna shared a look with Discord, “Everyone act in ways they regret after time has passed. My sister isn’t immune to that either. I wanted to give her a chance, so and fought to lessen her punishment. You are hurt and angry, so don’t make such statements, because I know you don’t mean them. I still trust the elements.”

“No, how could you trust them? Didn’t you hear what Discord said? It has flaws… but now that I think about it, it makes sense!” Twilight started pacing and ranting, “It’s called the Elements of Harmony for a reason. Harmony isn’t necessarily justice. The whole system is flawed. Everything I knew and everything I thought I knew was all based on theories that had never been proven to be true! How could I be so naïve? I could have figured it out sooner, I could have seen her for what she –“

“– could’ve, would’ve, should’ve, Twilight… It’s in the past now.” Luna sighed with trouble. “It’s irreversible and nothing you feel, do, say or think will change it. What matters is what we learn from our experiences. I know it’s hard choose what to think when you realize that things like the Elements of Harmony, laws or principles are flawed. It’s hard to accept, but things aren’t just black and white – it’s a huge grey spectrum. The best we can do, is whatever we think is right.”

“How will we know what to do when Celestia wakes up?”

“That’s something we’ll face when the time comes.” Discord said with a brief, gentle smile, “10 years is a long time, but it will fly by before we know it. By then, things would have shifted into a new norm.” He thought for a moment, “…you know, I think that’s why the elements decided on 50 years specifically.”

“Yes, it’s enough time for us to rebuild a new life and adjust to before Celestia wakes up and see that we moved on without her. It would be torture for her, considering her personality.” Luna thought out loud.

“So the punishment isn’t the time she’s asleep,” Twilight concluded, “The punishment is that she was here all along and that she would have to deal with the fact that the world moved on without her. Things will be different and she would have to start all over again – turn over a new leaf.”

“Dark.” Luna mumbled to herself, only to have Discord face her with a stern correction, “Fitting.”

“What do we do now?” the purple pony asked wearily.

The three friends exchange glances before Luna speaks up, “We come clean. The whole kingdom deserves to know the full, untampered story behind all of the currant madness that had been going on. For the sake of everyone’s distress, I believe that we keep the story short; Celestia had gotten ill and ended up sleep-deprived, causing her to make irrational decisions and ultimately making me use the elements of harmony to help her. Somehow, we have to make them understand that her coma was not with bad intentions…”

“What about the first part?” Discord asked with a raised eyebrow. When she furrows her expression is confusion, Twilight interjected.

“Don’t you want others to know that Celestia wronged you that way she did?”

“No.” Luna said, much to her friends’ dismay, “She may have exploited my punishment all those years ago, but I’m not innocent. I was jealous and I hurt her. I wanted to overthrow her. We’re both guilty and I don’t want anycreature to question their leaders or to be bias.”

Twilight and Discord looked at each other before averting their eyes. She had a point.

“Celestia will stay here, safe and guarded. Twilight and I will stand in for her duties. I am sure that you will be a great princess, Twilight.” Luna paused to take a breath, then moved to her sister’s side and laid on her stomach beside her. “I’m not meant to be here… I’ve known that for a long time now. The Sun and the Moon were never meant to share the sky together. I’ll build a new home for me and start ruling the Night from the South in the Forbidden Forest.

“Discord, I know you don’t do anything unless it’s out of your own free will, but I ask that you please consider casting a dismissal spell for our subjects to dismiss the new rules that Celestia ordered, as well as the endless sunlight that had been going on for days now? I don’t want anycreature startled or turned against Celestia before gaining some ground to protect her first.”

Discord averted his gaze in thought. Luna was right, chaos was never in anycreatures’ favor and he never let him be told what he should and shouldn’t do. But she asked him to consider – implying that she could do it herself, but after the battle she had with her sister, she must have been too tired to do that now. In any case, he couldn’t bear the thought of seeing his marefriend’s request be rejected when she never ask for anything in the first place.

Wordlessly, Discord lifted his lion paw and snapped his digits. It too the princess by surprise that he caved in so quickly, but Luna recovered to continue her train of thought.

“We have a lot ahead of us, but together, we could make it work.” Luna finished. She looked at her chaotic spirit and her friend, one at a time, “Will you stand by me and restore our kingdom?”

“Of course, Luna.” Twilight said, standing upright and her head held high.

“As you wish, my Princess.” The lord bowed with a purr. It made the purple pony flustered and look back and forth between the lovers. Her relationship with Discord will have to be kept under wraps too, Luna decided. At least until the dust settled.

It would look too suspicious for two former villains to suddenly be in an intimate relationship after one of the beloved princesses had fallen. Subjects might think that Nightmare Moon and Discord are conspiring together to dictate Equestria.

To think… Luna finally got to rule Equestria, just like she wanted to all those years ago, but resented the costs of it all.

It was going to be alright, come hell or high waters.

Next: Epilogue

Previous: Chapter 26

Masterlist