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djarrex · 3 years

Text

Countermeasures || 4

Diversion

Fives x ofc!reader

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Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: hella sexual tension yet again, some violence (feat. hand-to-hand combat Fives #King), a hint of fluff (really a hint of softy Fives)

chapter summary: You know something strange is going on, and that becomes even more clear upon Tup’s passing. You’ll both need a diversion to kickstart the investigation, so the truth behind Tup’s death - and the tumor - can be uncovered.

note: Okay I’m not confident in my writing of fight scenes so bear with me. This is the longest chapter so far and there were some parts in here I really struggled with so I’m sorry if things are written weird. I removed an entire scene and replaced it with something different. Hint: it was spicy, but turned into fluff. Slow burn... am I right?

***

It was the morning after Tup’s passing and Fives’ simultaneous arrest. You got ready for the day, running on empty fumes and barely any sleep. That night you had tossed and turned, unable to relieve yourself of the guilt flooding through you. You weren’t even upset you were reassigned – you were too distraught from watching Fives get taken away as he shook his brother’s lifeless body. It was a scene straight from a depressing holomovie, and it burned in your brain, playing on repeat.

You reached for your lab coat on the way out of your quarters, but hesitated. Did you even need to wear it now? You’re going to be skimming through reports all day for the rest of your internship. Hardly the occupation that warrants the donning of a medical lab coat. Hand still floating in the air, you dropped it and shook your head. No. You do not deserve to wear that.

Your feet dragged as you headed the familiar way to the archives; a path you thought you wouldn’t have to walk again. As you approached a trisecting corridor, you heard hushed voices - those of the Kaminoans. You stopped before reaching the corner, steadying your breath to zero in on their conversation, attempting to remain undetected.

“We can not let that clone leave. Not after what he has seen.”

“Now that CT-5385 has passed, we can begin the autopsy. We do not have a need for CT-5555 anymore.”

“You may be correct, but we mustn’t leave anything to chance. I suggest we wipe his memory and keep him here indefinitely so that we can easily monitor his behavior.”

“I agree.”

“Doctor, I will gather the guards and escort CT-5555 to the reconditioning center.”

You had never turned around so fast in your life.

You wanted to run, run as fast as you could through the bright corridors, but you couldn’t. It would raise too much suspicion, which wasn’t something you – or Fives – could afford right now. Instead, you maintained a brisk pace, slowing it slightly when others came into frame. You needed to get to Fives. You had no idea how long he had – they could be on their way there right now.

Fives’ room came into view – no guards standing outside. That was a good sign. You slammed your fist against the buttons and the door whisked opened. Fives sat in a familiar distraught position on the cot with his head hung low, but instantly snapped up to the sound of your frantic voice as you rushed into the room.

“Fives! Thank the Maker you’re still here.” You quickly turned to shut the door as Fives jolted up, confusion written all over his face.

“Still here? What are you-”

“You need to leave. Now.” You were a tad bit out of breath. Fives just stared at you, wide-eyed.

“Ren, hey. Just breathe, and tell me what’s going on.” Fives’ arm outstretched and a warm palm landed on your upper arm, squeezing tight with reassurance, pulling you to sit down on the cot with him. You kept your head down, staring at your dangling feet to calm yourself.

“I overheard them talking… they- they said they were going to wipe your memory. They’re not sending you back to the 501st, Fives. I don’t think that was ever their intention… and now, after Tup, I- I don’t think it’s going to be good.”

“Who said that?” You looked up to meet Fives’ eyes, noting how the previous look of confusion and concern jumped out the window and was replaced with caution and curiosity - maybe anger, too.

“Nala Se, and- and some other Kaminoans. I think I heard the Prime Minister’s voice, too.” Fives hand jumped to your thigh, giving a modest squeeze as he leaned in close.

“Did they see you? Please tell me they did not see you.” Worry accompanied his tone - worry for you.

“I don’t think so. I didn’t hang around for long. I- I heard them say your name, then something about an inhibitor chip, and the reconditioning center, and- ”

“Hey, Ren. Look at me. It’s going to be okay, alright? They can’t do that. There’s no way they’d get away with that if Rex or General Skywalker have anything to say about it.” You knew of Rex, but nothing about this Skywalker guy. Whoever he was aside, Fives didn’t quite seem to understand the urgency of the situation.

“Fives, you don’t know. They’ve been acting strange ever since we found the tumor in Tup. I- I don’t think that was something any of us were supposed to find. Not me, and especially not you. There’s something strange going on here. I can feel it!” You stood up and paced over to the counter, arching forward with your elbows resting on the cool top. Fives shuffled around as you heard his footsteps approaching, making you turn around to face him.

“What do you mean?”

Fives didn’t seem to be in any rush to leave - his stubbornness was insane. Fuck. Time was running out. They could be here any second. Anxiously running your fingers through your hair, you started, “When we did the scan on Tup and removed the tumor- Nala Se acted as if none of it mattered. She told me over and over that the scan was incorrect, but we know what we saw. We held the evidence in our hands. Something not right is going on around here, Fives. You and I may be the only ones that know about it. I gotta get you out of here.” Fives’ eyes remained locked with yours as he silently took it all in. He wasn’t saying anything, until -

“Well, what about you?” Fives’ hand reached forward and locked into yours. The warmth coming from his rough hand soothed you for a moment as you collected your thoughts.

“I’ll be okay so long as they don’t know I’m working with you and I... stop asking questions. They didn’t dismiss me like I thought they would, so I still have a chance of finding on what’s going on from the archives. They think they can cover their assess by keeping me compliant and reconditioning you-”

“Do you know how long I have until they ‘recondition’ me, whatever that means?”

“I ran to find you as soon as I heard they would send the guards to escort you out... Fives, they could literally get here any second. I’m supposed to be in the kriffing archives, but I am not letting them do that to you.” You grabbed his other hand and squeezed them both. Looking up at the vent, you nodded up at the ceiling. “Common, you know the drill.”

***

You had been crawling through the cold durasteel ventilation shafts for a while now. In your exhausted state you had forgotten to put on your chrono this morning, and you were sure Fives had no current concept of time. Coming up on a trisecting shaft, you ceased crawling.

“Do you have any idea where you’re going?” It had to have been at least fifteen minutes when you finally broke the silence. Fives came to a halt in front of you and turned his head around over his shoulder.

“Uh, yes?” The obvious lie seeped its way through the raising pitch in his voice. Rolling your eyes, Fives added in, “I need to get to the hangar so I can create a diversion.” Fives resumed crawling, but you remained still.

“A... diversion? What are you thinking of doing at the hangar?” As your voice became more distant to him, he paused again. Fives peered over in your direction behind him, nodding for you to come along. You sighed, but continued forward to catch up with him.

“I need to make it look like I’ve escaped, that way they don’t come looking for me here.” Once you were close enough behind him, he started crawling again - but you paused, again. What in the hells-

“Make it look like you’ve escaped? I thought I made myself very clear when I told you that you need to leave.” Fives sensed that you halted once again, coming to a halt himself and backing up a few paces.

“I can’t leave yet, Ren. You said so yourself – something strange is going on here, and I need to get to the bottom of it. I need to know more about the tumor you took out of Tup.” There was definitely no arguing with a man like Fives. With a defeated sigh, you bowed you head for a moment, contemplating the next move. Well, Fives might as well hide out for a bit until enough of the heat has been taken off him. It wouldn’t help the cause if he got captured right away.

“Okay, fine. But it’s too hot down there right now. I’m sure they have troopers searching every room and hall in the medical wing for you once they realized you weren’t where you were supposed to be.” You narrowed your eyes at him, which you know he couldn’t see from his position - you hoped he felt it, though. “You’ll need a safe place to hide in the meantime, then we can dig deeper into the tumor.”

“We? Renna, I’ve already asked too much of you, and nearly got you dismissed from my actions.”

“Not your actions, Fives. I’m the one who agreed to help you, and I still want to help you. You’re not the only one who wants to figure out what the fuck is going on around here.” If Fives wouldn’t escape Kamino, then you would help him the best you could.

“Alright, alright.” Fives chuckled at your tenacity, “Where would be a safe place to hide in the city? I’m not exactly fond of staying up in these freezing vents for the rest of the day and tonight.”

“I mean…” You paused, contemplating if you really were about to say what you were going to say, “You- you could lay low in my quarters. No one of importance goes to that side of the city anyway. They would never think to look there. It would just be for the night – it would probably be okay to head out to the hangar by morning.” Yeah, you said it. The thought of Fives being in your room - just the two of you - sent heat all over your body, warming up the exposed skin that was pricked with goosebumps from the freezing vents. Fives’ head turned towards you as far as it would go, most likely straining his neck. You could make out his raised eyebrows as he let out a grunt. Somehow you figured he wouldn’t say no to being invited into your room. Fives - ever the stubborn man - was an arguer, though.

“You can’t get caught help-”

“Don’t argue with me.” You raised your brows, mimicking him, earning a chuckle your way. “I have some food, and I’m sure you’re about starving right about now.” Letting out a heavy sigh, Fives nodded.

“Alright, lead the way, ma’am.” Fives scooted as far as he could to the right, allowing you to pass by him. Fives didn’t start crawling right away, but you didn’t stop; you allowed yourself to imagine that he was checking out your ass again. A few more moments went by until you finally heard the sound of Fives tailing you, when he sighed again, “Please don’t tell me all you have are protein bars.”

***

You must have crawled for another silent half hour by the time you reached the vent leading to your room. Opening it carefully and quietly, you hopped down onto your bed. Fives followed, with his guard clearly held up high as he automatically scanned the unfamiliar room.

“So, uh… this is where I currently live.” You tied your hair up into a ponytail and smiled at Fives after he finally dropped down. “It’s going to be fine - I promise.” Plopping down on the edge of your bed, you patted the mattress and gestured for Fives to join you. This whole thing – Fives in your room with you – was a fantasy that guided your self-pleasure for a couple nights; you finally had true alone time with him, and you wanted to do what you could with it.

“I can tell you made this place your own. Better than my bunk in the barracks that’s for sure.” Fives rubbed the back of his neck and offered you a sheepish grin, plopping down on the bed right next to you. You felt the heat radiating off his body; Fives was sitting very close to you. There was silence for a minute until you realized you had forgotten to offer him anything.

“One protein bar, coming right up!” You jolted up and off the bed and headed for the small kitchenette by the front door. You heard the sound of Fives readjusting on your mattress but remained focused on getting him something good to eat. Opening cabinet after cabinet, shaking your head at the sight of each one, you finally found something you think he’d like. You called over your shoulder, “Have you ever tried macarons? They’re not exactly full of nutritional value, but they’re really good.” No response. You held the half-full box of the sweet cookies against your chest and turned around; Fives made himself perfectly at home. His head rested on your favorite pillow and his legs were sprawled out, taking over the entire bed. His head was tilted towards you, a grin on his face.

You felt your body get pulled by him, mindlessly walking over to your bed, sitting down on the edge near his knee. The box of macarons still in your hand, you pulled one out and passed it to Fives. He took it, staring at it before shoving the whole thing in his mouth. You couldn’t help but giggle at his facial expression when his tastebuds activated, signaling the rest his body of just how delicious those cookies were. You raised a brow with a large smile on your face, nodding to him as he swallowed.

“Another?” You laughed as Fives quickly grabbed at the second macaron you held out to him. You chewed one down with him, and after a few minutes of nothing but chewing sounds, the box grew empty.

“What do you usually do for fun when you’re not out doing medical stuff?” Fives had just swallowed the last macaron, smacking his lips and savoring the flavor. He was still sprawled out on your bed, looking extremely comfy and content. You smiled at him as you thought about your life before coming to Kamino.

“I used to go out a lot, back on Coruscant. I made a lot of friends at the academy, and they always wanted to go out and drink and dance. It was fun.”

“I guess there’s no club or cantina here, is there?”

You laughed. “Nope. It’s quite unfortunate.” You let your hair loose and combed at the slightly tangled strands with your fingers. “What about you? You know, when you’re not out doing ‘war stuff’.” Fives laughed at his own phrasing being thrown back at him, but was fixated on what you were doing with your hair.

“I enjoy going out with the guys. Rex, Kix, Jesse. I have a lot of brothers, but they’re the closest ones to me. Well, what’s left of them anyway.” Removing your fingers from your hair snapped Fives’ attention back to your face. You hated to admit that you had almost forgotten about Tup. You didn’t know exactly how close they were, but the bond was clear when you saw the lengths Fives had gone through so far for Tup.

“I’m truly sorry about Tup, Fives. This whole thing... it- it just isn’t right.”

“It isn’t just Tup - before him, it was Hevy, Echo, Hardcase. All good soldiers - good brothers - but they’re gone. We were born to die in this war, and I’ve come to terms with that... it doesn’t mean I can’t miss them, though.” It was hard to imagine yourself in Fives’ shoes, well, any of the clones’ shoes honestly. They were bred specially for this war, right here. You didn’t think about that fact too much before meeting Fives, but now...

“I only somewhat met Tup, but I know for a fact that all your brothers were and are the greatest men in the galaxy. If they’re anything like you.” You caught yourself blushing like a fool, turning your face away from Fives’ gaze. Fives lightly chuckled, his hand coming up towards you when-

Knock knock knock.

Fives looked back and forth between your frozen form and the door with wide eyes. You quite honestly froze. Who in the fuck would be paying you a visit - today of all days?

“Aren't you going to get that?” Sarcasm, even through a whisper. Shaking your head in disbelief, you slapped Fives’ thigh and motioned for him to get back up into the ceiling.

“Miss Renna?” The unmistakable voice of a Kaminoan came from the other side of the door, followed by a couple more gentle knocks.

“I’ll be right there!” You called in that direction, lightly smacking Fives’ legs to hurry up as he finally disappeared from the room and into the vents. Brushing off your clothing and giving yourself a onceover in the entry mirror, you took a deep breath and hit the button to open the door. Two Kaminoan doctors stood just outside looking innocent enough, datapads pressed into their slender torsos.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, “Good evening, doctors. Can I help you?”

“We did not see you in the archives today, Miss Renna. We know you worked with contaminated clones for the past few days, and wanted to make sure you were feeling alright.”

“I appreciate the check-in, doctors, but I am feeling fine. I suppose I am a little shook up after watching one of the patients pass, however.” You weren’t exactly lying.

“I understand,” the second Kaminoan chimed in. “It does not get easier - to have a patient die on you - but it becomes bearable. If you want to become a doctor, these are things you will need to get used to.” You managed a weak smile and nodded to them.

“Thank you for stopping by, doctors. I will be sure to get some sleep tonight. Have a nice evening.” The two long-necks nodded and headed down the corridor. You peeked your head out and watched them until they turned the corner and were out of sight. Shutting the door and leaning against it, you let out a breath you were unknowingly holding in

“That was a close one,” Fives peeked out from the vent with a huge grin on his face. You looked up at him, shaking your head at his smartass comment. Even in times like these, Fives still had a sense of humor and let it shine.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Looks like I completely disregarded and forgot about my duties for the day.”

“I’m sorry.” Fives descended from the ceiling and sat back down on your bed.

“No! You do not need to be sorry. You aren’t making these decisions for me, Fives.”

“Well... at least let me apologize for something. I’m sorry you met me? Or, sorry that you helped me even though you said it was 100% your decision? Does that work?” Fives’ cheeky grin made you chuckle as he teasingly patted the space next to him. You obliged, sitting right on the bed where he was motioning for you to.

“I’m not sorry that I helped you. If anything, you helped me. Not only were you my first patient, you helped me see you clones in a different light. I’ve seen things with you that I would’ve never seen in any reports or files. I’m not sorry that I met you, Fives. I don’t think you realize how you’ve changed my life in only a few days of knowing you.” All those words flew out of your mouth like vomit, spewing out before you could even think about what they meant or how they would sound. Fives’ silence made you feel anxious. You obviously had feelings for Fives - both emotional and physical - but you were sure he only knew about the physical ones. Was he turned off by the accidental oversharing of your emotions? You looked down at your feet, digging your heels into the carpet when you felt the mattress move up and down - Fives was bouncing on his butt like a youngling.

“Your bed is probably the most comfortable thing I’ve ever laid on. Us clones basically sleep on duracrete blocks, you know.”

Okay, Fives didn’t exactly acknowledge your heartfelt word vomit, but he didn’t ignore it, either. He just... played it cool. That’s okay, you can work with cool. Another bolt of confidence surged through you when his hand came up and rested gently on your knee.

“Well, why don’t you sleep on it tonight.”

“No karking way, this is your bed. Where are you going to sleep, on the floor?”

“No, I would never sleep on the floor in my own room,” you jested, rolling your eyes at him. Your ever-increasing confidence encouraged a ploy - an idea that would have you sleeping together for sure. “I offered you to take my bed and was planning on joining you, that okay?” You raised a brow and smiled at Fives. His eyes widened and his signature cheeky grin crept on his face.

“Yeah- yeah that is definitely okay.”

***

Lights out.

The position you were in was not the most comfortable in the world; your bed was designed to only sleep one, so you were angled nearly on top of Fives while he was scooted all the way against the wall, laying somewhere in between flat on his back and on his side. Fives had pulled you into him, his thick arms hugging you from behind.

Your room was pitch black and silent - save for the steady breaths coming from the both of you, alternating but in sync. You were frozen, held tightly in Fives’ arms, unable to move a muscle - it’s not like you minded, really. It had been a long, long time since you’d been held like this. You had a feeling it was the same for Fives, too.

“Fives?” A broken whisper escaped your lips and his breaths paused for a moment in response, letting his grip on you loosen just a little bit.

“Sorry... I-” He caught himself before continuing, “I just-”

“It’s okay,” You interrupted him with understanding, placing your hands onto his arms to secure them against your stomach. You get it.

You were sure Fives wanted to do more than cuddle tonight - as did you - but sleep quickly overcame him; hearing his breaths become more shallow as quiet snores erupted from his nose made you smile. You weren't disappointed, not at all - in fact, you were completely content with the sweet intimacy being shared between the two of you, knowing that it was something you both desperately needed. If you two were meant to go beyond this - beyond flirtatious words and touching and cuddling - then it will happen. For now, letting Fives hang on to you while he slept - you were basically acting as sort of a security blanket - was more than okay.

***

Your eyes opened to complete darkness and you were slightly confused on where you were and why there was an intense pressure wrapped around your body. You tried to sit up, but the way you were effectively held in place kept you from moving. Panic soared through you in your groggy, exhausted state as you tried to wiggle free; your breathing picked up in your struggle until a familiar voice coming from behind grounded you as the pressure was removed from your torso, allowing you to finally sit up.

“Renna, it’s okay! It’s me, it’s me.” You felt a palm rest atop your shoulder; you sighed and went back to laying down as you lifted your own hand to rest atop his.

Chuckling nervously, “Ha, sorry. I guess I haven’t slept next to anyone in a long time and my brain forgot what it was like. Sorta went into panic mode.”

“Yeah,” Fives chuckled and caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. “I got that impression.” It was silent for a minute when you snapped yourself out of the bliss.

“How long were we out for? Kark, you probably need to get going.” Wait - shit, did you just sound like you were trying to get rid of him? A moment of panic. “I just meant-”

“It’s alright, I know you’re not trying to kick me out of here.” He snorted. “I do need to get going.” Fives sounded... hesitant. A beat. “I wanted to ask... never mind.” Fives finally sat up, shuffling off the bed and somehow finding his way through the dark to turn on the light. The new brightness blinded you for a moment as you shielded your eyes with your arm. You sunk deeper into the bed when Fives came to sit back down on the edge of the bed next to you.

“What? What do you wanna ask?” You removed your arm from your face and noted the look of hesitation - and... admiration? - in his eyes as he looked down at you. You more than likely didn’t look very nice at that moment since you had just woken up; you felt loose stands of hair sticking to your cheeks, your eyes were half open and crusty, and your breath more than likely reeked.

“I just- I want you to come with me. I realize that you have other duties here, and that I’ve already asked so much of you and-”

You sat up. “I already told you I’d help you, Fives.” You had told him while still crawling in the vents, but you were hesitant on being physically by his side during the tumor investigation - you were planning on helping from the sidelines in any way you could, like offering up your room for him to lay low in, or finding out what you could in the archives for example. Your mind was changing, though. You whole heartedly wanted to be by Fives’ side through this thing. “I’ll go with you.”

Fives’ eyes lighted up with your admission, but his happiness was quickly replaced with hesitation. His face showed every emotion he was feeling so clearly - it was one of the things you liked the most about him, how expressive Fives can be.

“Renna... I’m just worried about what would happen if you were seen with me. This time, I mean. You weren’t dismissed before, but-”

“Mister stubborn ARC trooper, please stop arguing with me. Fuck my duties, let them dismiss me. I don’t want to keep interning here anyway.” That was the absolute truth. You placed your hands on Fives’ shoulders, pulling him closer to you (oh well to your stinky breath) so you could get it into his thick head, “I am going with you.”

***

Reading the time as you put on your chrono, you realized how it was still very early in the morning; most of the staff was more than likely sleeping, making it the perfect opportunity to head out. The two of you could probably evade the straggling troopers roaming the corridors.

Opening the door to your room and peeking his head out to scan the area, Fives nodded at you and waved for you to follow. “I need to check something out first. It shouldn’t take long.” You nodded. “Stay close to me.”

You tailed Fives as close as you could without tripping over him, keeping your guard up high while constantly looking behind you as he headed in the direction of the medical wing. What exactly did he need to check? The medical wing was too risky right now, even if it was early in the morning-

“Oh, skrag.” Fives halted, making you bump into him while your head was turned back. You whipped around, quickly noticing oncoming troopers who were being waved over by a couple Kaminoans passing by. Fives was quick to get into an attack stance, his arm shooting out to keep you behind him. You put some distance between you and Fives, realizing what was about to take place. Time to put on the innocent and frightened medical intern act.

“There he is!” A guard called out while one long-neck hurried over to the large button protruding from the wall, slamming it with his palm. The alarm sounded, filling the corridors with sirens, lights turning from bright white to red. One guard immediately aimed his blaster at Fives; Fives turned around like he sensed it, smacking the weapon out of the guard’s hands and punctuating with an uppercut to the underside of his bucket. Another trooper ran into the scene - weapon aimed and ready - when Fives rushed over and grabbed at it. The pair fought for the blaster, but Fives gave the trooper a knee to his side, leaving the blaster up for grabs. Fives took it and slammed it over the trooper’s head, rendering him unconscious. One more trooper entered the ring as Fives ran over towards him and chucked the blaster he won from the previous trooper into the third trooper’s bucket, catching him off guard, then grabbed at his blaster, swinging it into his legs to knock him off his feet.

The Kaminoans in the area fled the scene, holding on to each other as they scurried away. Confused medical droids floated nearby, unsure of how to calculate what had just taken place. You were frozen, leaning against the wall to the right of Fives, watching him kneel to catch his breath then gazing over the three defeated troopers who lay sprawled out, knocked out. Finally unfreezing from your spot, you ran over to Fives and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t believe... what you just did.” You didn’t make your comment sound accusatory, but there was a hint of shock and admiration in your tone as you let out a quiet chuckle to yourself. Truth be told, seeing Fives in action like that was extremely arousing. You’d never seen what he was capable of with your own eyes before - just things you read about in his files. Here he was in front of you, and he had fought hard using nothing but his pure strength and agility. What an absolute turn on.

“They will not erase my mind.” Fives shot up and turned around to face you, grabbing your face and cradled it in his hands after tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “They won’t get near me, and they won’t get near you.” The warmth of his hands - the same hands that just assisted in kicking three armed troopers’ shebs - were warm against your cheeks. You could stay in that moment forever, but the alarm blasting over the overcomms faded back into your ears. “We gotta get out of here.” Fives released your face and tugged your arm, guiding you down the hall in a sprint; you would be struggling to keep up with his enhanced speed if his hand wasn’t latched around your forearm. With his free arm, he swung droids out of the path left and right, sending them in spirals against the wall. He led you to his old room - a room where you definitely should not be camping out in.

Confusion and fear set in as you approached the closed door. Hopefully there weren’t any troopers inside waiting, though after what you had just witnessed you knew you’d be more than okay with Fives at your side.

“Why are we here?” Fives pushed the button and ushered you inside, and headed straight to the counter where a closed case sat atop of it. Instead of answering you, Fives opened the case, brows furrowing and eyes narrowing at what was inside. You recognized it instantly - it was the tumor you had removed from Tup.

“I knew it. Nala Se switched the cases.” Fives grabbed the encased tumor and held it up in front of you. “She’s trying to hide something. You were right, Ren.”

“Fives, what are you talking about? ‘Switched cases’?” Stitting on the cot, you tugged at Fives’ free hand and pulled him to join you. “Hey, tell me what’s going on.” Fives kept his gaze locked on the tumor, holding it tightly against his palm. You reached for it; Fives didn’t hesitate when you grabbed it from him as you held it up to examine it. With a sigh, Fives looked up at you.

“The long-necks and the General came to my room before you did yesterday morning. I was waiting to hear what the Chancellor had to say about the tumor... General Shaak Ti told me that he wanted the tumor and all the intel gathered sent straight to the Grand Republic Medical Facility back on Coruscant. I figured I’d be going back to Coruscant as well, but because of you, now I know that the long-necks had other plans for me.”

You met Fives’ eyes and smiled, reaching down to lay your hand atop his. If you had kept walking, or even left your quarters a minute sooner or later than you did, Fives may not be himself right now. Things could have been very different.

After a moment of silence, Fives continued, “I saw Shaak Ti place the tumor in a case identical to that one,” He nodded to the tumor in your other hand, “Sitting right next to it. The case with the tumor was handed to a droid by Shaak Ti, telling it to prepare the tumor and all data for transit to the Jedi Temple. Nala Se and Shaak Ti argued about where the tumor should be sent first - the medical facility or the Jedi Temple...” Fives didn’t need to finish for you to catch on. You had a bad feeling about Nala Se’s reaction towards you discovering the tumor since that afternoon you had removed it from Tup. Shaking your head in disapproval, you frowned and handed the tumor back to Fives.

“Shaak Ti told me I had one more physical to pass, then I’d be back with my brothers in the 501st.” Fives’ sounded... betrayed. He had put his trust in the wrong beings.

“I didn’t realize Shaak Ti would be on board with having you reconditioned.” You stood up and moved to where the empty case lay.

“I don’t think she was. The long-necks probably had her fooled. Makes sense, since they switched the cases and sent an empty one to the Jedi Temple.” A beat. “I thought I saw that droid purposefully pick up the wrong case as they left me alone in the room, and turns out I was right.” Fives stood up and joined you, closing the decoy case and grabbing your hand to place the tumor back in your palm.

It was clear that Nala Se could not be trusted. How many other Kaminoans were in on this? What about the Prime Minister, Lama Su? This had to go all the way up to the top, since you were sure you had heard Lama Su’s voice along with the others while you were listening in. The tumor was back in your possession - now what?

“Well, what are we supposed to do now? The entire city is looking for you - well, us.” You tucked the tumor securely into the pocket in your leggings - where nothing could ever slip out. The look in Fives’ eyes was telling - he definitely already had a plan.

“We’re gonna need a distraction. Remember how I mentioned that I needed to get to the hangar?”

***

Running down glowing red corridors with alarms blaring while in tow with a man who was now labeled as a fugitive was something you never pictured yourself doing.

You’d only ever visited the hangar once, and that was over six months ago when you first arrived on this gloomy and stormy planet. Fives apparently knew where he was going, though - not surprising. Large and open bay doors came into view after a few minutes of running. Entering the hangar and seeing what lay in front of you was quite the opposite view of that of a medical facility. Cranes hovered about, their claws grasping shipping pods and moving them around. Seeing troopers wearing yellow jumpsuits and silly hats threw you off guard - you were only ever used to seeing them plastoid or the red Kaminoan clone outfits - as they directed the cranes and the small, spherical Kaminoan pods into their rightful places.

It seemed at this point that Fives was making no attempt at being stealthy as he casually strutted through the open hangar to the other side nearest the port. You followed behind him, attempting to be casual as well. Some heads turned in your direction, though, and that was probably because you of all people were tailing this trooper.

Fives approached a pilot descending the ramp to a ship; the pilot respectfully saluted at him and Fives reciprocated.

“I’m sorry sir,” the pilot’s hand shot up in front of Fives, ceasing his strut towards the ship. “All ships are locked down during the emergency.” Emergency? Obviously the clones working in the hangar had no idea what was actually going on, since none of them had made an attempt to attack Fives or call for help.

Fives looked over at you, raised a brow, and shrugged. You were motionless, but noted Fives’ look in his eyes. Nope, a locked down ship won’t do.

“Oh?” Fives pointed behind the pilot, “What about that one?” The unsuspecting pilot whipped around; Fives took the opportunity to send a hard punch right into his gut, knocking him unconscious. There was that raw strength again. Your eyes widened as you looked around the hangar, checking for heads turned in your direction. The coast seemed to be clear; Fives swung the unconscious pilot’s arm around his shoulders and dragged him over behind a crate. You heard him mumble a “sorry, brother” as he slid his helmet back on the slumped over pilot.

Just as Fives was standing back up, a distant voice shouted, “There he is!” You froze again, watching Fives’ reaction to the incoming guards.

“Tell them you found me,” Fives hissed over to you. “Grab my arm.”

“What?” Fives’ glanced down at your hand, eyebrows raising. You got the hint, and reached down to tug at his arm.

“Pull hard. You won’t hurt me, Renna.” You pulled as hard as you could, Fives making a show of playfully resisting. You smirked at him and you nearly fell on your ass from how hard you were tugging on him, adding your other hand and digging the balls of your feet into the duracrete to keep up the act.

“I’ll be back soon. Tell them you found me here. Go!” Fives snatched his arm out of your grasp and ascended the ramp to the ship, sending you falling flat on your tailbone. The ship shot out of the port, leaving twin prink trails in its wake. A arm reached down to you, fully covered in gray and white plastoid, and helped you stand upright. You mumbled a “thanks” to the trooper, realizing Fives’ idea had worked - they had no idea you were helping him. You rubbed your surely bruised tailbone and lower back, wincing at the sensitivity.

“I found him, General. I tried to stop him-”

“I want him brought in alive,” Shaak Ti interrupted you as she commanded the troopers that surrounded. “Have that ship tracked.” A trooper nodded, running off in the other direction with the rest in tow, leaving you alone with the General. She turned to you, a look of discern on her face.

“Did Fives say anything to you?”

“No. No, ma’am. I caught up to him as he knocked out the pilot,” you pointed to where Fives had rested his unconscious brother behind a crate. “I figured I could reason with him. Since, you know, he was my patient and all.” The need to keep your voice steady was never more important. You were speaking to a Jedi. Any waver in your voice - or even a nervous thought - could give yourself away.

“You tried your best, Miss... Renna, is it?” You nodded, dry-swallowing a clump of air. “Thank you for your efforts.” With that, Shaak Ti turned and headed towards the bay doors, leaving your alone to stare off into the early morning sky, following the pink trail coming from Fives’ ship as far as your eyes could see.

You’d wait for him to return.

He said he’ll be back.

***

tags: @bvcketfvcker @deewithani @chromia7567 @cyaniderainfall

#djarrex writes #countermeasures series #arc trooper fives #arc trooper fives x reader #arc trooper fives x you #arc trooper fives x oc #fives x you #fives x reader #fives x oc #fives smut #arc trooper fives smut #conspiracy arc #the clone wars conspiracy arc

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iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 3 years

Text

the sky’s open wide, i’m running with the wolves - chapter 1

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: All the sides, background Remy, background c!Thomas Rating: Teen & up (see Warnings) Relationships: Platonic/brotherly Virgil with Logan and the Creativitwins; platonic/parental Patton & Virgil; platonic/brotherly Logan and the Creativitwins with each other; platonic/parental Janus with Logan and the Creativitwins; background endgame Moceit. Warnings: Probably some language; references to Christianity; non-graphic violence. Word count: 1570 Notes: Wolfwalkers (2020) AU! You don’t need to have seen the movie to enjoy this, though.

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

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Summary: When Patton is charged with hunting down the wolves in the woods, he believes he is protecting his young son Virgil. But Virgil is afraid to watch his father vanish into the woods, and sneaks after him. When Virgil runs into three wolf cubs who hold the secrets of the forest, he has to make a choice: obey the rules he’s known all his life? Or try to help the three shapeshifting boys find their missing father—even though Virgil's always been taught that the only safe wolf is a dead one? As Virgil explores the wonderful world his new friends show him, and uncovers the lies his town is built on, he may be too late to realize that his choices will cost him more than he ever bargained for.

Chapter 1

Remy would never have particularly considered himself a God-fearing man. Oh, he said his prayers and went to church, of course, but it was more a comfortable habit woven into the fabric of his life than something he devoted much thought to. Even at nineteen, he preferred to occupy his day-to-day thoughts with such matters as the tending of his sheep, the comfort of a nice dry pair of woolen socks, the avoidance of wolves, and, most of all, the brewing of a good cup of tea.

Remy was good at his job. He tended his sheep; he stayed well away from the woods. Everyone knew you didn’t mess with the woods. Stay away from their territory, and keep up the deal of old, and always be safe. He had never put much thought into this, either; it was much more important, in Remy’s eyes, to consider the fine taste that a brew steeped just right could carry.

He never expected his thoughtless respect for the woods to pay off.

The first time Remy saw a Wolfwalker, he was twenty-five years old and had started to wonder if he even believed they were real. But after that day, he never doubted again.

After all, how else could one explain the way the huge, snarling gray wolf, poised to deliver a killing bite to one of Remy’s finest sheep, had heard that commanding howl come from the woods, and put its tail between its legs and run back home in response?

Remy had watched the wolf run, standing frozen in fear and shock—and then he’d seen the Wolfwalker. A tall, tremendous wolf standing at the edge of the treeline, easily twice the size of the largest man, with dark gray fur and eyes gleaming yellow, a jagged scar running down one side of its face. Lean and powerful. Remy instinctively knew this was no ordinary wolf.

Remy had never considered himself a God-fearing man, but staring at the Wolfwalker and the way it commanded the pack of ordinary wolves surrounding it, he thought to himself that perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to pray a little harder.

“Thank you,” he croaked out when the Wolfwalker turned its eyes on him. “Thank you, m’lord—bless ye—I’ll never cross your territory, you may be sure of that—thank you for protecting my sheep—” He barely even knew what he was saying, babbling out his thoughts in more than a little healthy terror.

He wasn’t quite sure if the way the Wolfwalker bowed its head was a nod of acknowledgement, but the next moment, the Wolfwalker was leaping away, the pack of wolves trailing in its wake. And not a single sheep of Remy’s had been harmed.

Remy didn’t see the Wolfwalker often; over the next decade or so, he crossed paths with—him? Remy somehow got the feeling it was a him—perhaps half a dozen times. Every time he came away filled with awe and fear and a renewed sense that though the Wolfwalker was terrifying and fearsome, Remy would far rather live under his odd protection than whatever farce could be provided by all these guards the new Lord Protector kept bringing around.

Before he knew it, Remy was nearly thirty-seven and his appreciation of a good cup of tea had only strengthened over the years. He went to church and said his prayers with gusto, and every night he glanced out to the woods and gave a little nod of respect. For the Wolfwalker and, these last few years, the little cubs that followed in his wake.

As long as the people kept themselves to themselves and stayed out of the woods, Remy knew there was nothing to fear from the wolves.

***

“I don’t want you to go!” Logan clung to Janus’s wrist, digging his heels into the ground and trying to physically hold him back.

Janus lifted his powerful arm and picked the near-teen right up off the ground with almost no effort at all. “This is terribly grown-up of you,” he informed his eldest son dryly.

“There are too many humans,” Logan insisted, dangling from Janus’s arm, the little claws of his hands pricking at Janus’s skin. “You said only the forest was safe!”

Janus drew a long breath. “And that has been true for time immemorial. But things have changed. I like it no more than you do. But I need you to stay here and look after your brothers, you understand me, Logan? I will find us a new forest, a safer one, without any humans who want to cut and burn the trees or trap us with iron. And then I will come back and get you three, and we will go there.”

“But this forest is ours!” Logan protested. “No other forest will be ours like this one is.”

“Logan,” Janus said, and his voice bore an undercurrent of a warning snarl now, “I am doing what I must to protect my cubs.”

He didn’t know where to go, only that they couldn’t stay here. Not with the way the humans kept getting bolder and bolder and venturing deeper into the woods. Between Logan’s poor eyesight and the twins’ recklessness, and the way all three of them were only cubs and couldn’t defend themselves well yet, Janus was getting twitchier and twitchier by the day.

Logan stilled, an unhappy look on his face. “Can I come with you, at least? I can help! I’m very good at figuring things out! We could find a new forest together!”

“No,” Janus responded at once, his heart rate quickening at the idea. “I don’t—” He broke off and reconsidered what he was about to say. “I need you to look after the twins,” he said at last, striving to keep his voice casual.

Not casual enough. Logan stared at him, a look of dawning horror on his face. “You think you might not come back!” he accused.

Janus refrained from speaking the curse he wanted to let out. Logan had always been far too observant. “Of course I’ll come back,” he lied through his teeth, running a comforting hand through Logan’s tangled hair. “I only want to make sure the way is safe for my little ones first.”

Logan had spoken the truth a moment ago: there were too many humans these days. Janus wasn’t sure it was possible to safely venture past the borders of the forest anymore. He wasn’t sure there was anywhere left to take his little ones.

He wasn’t sure he would survive this search.

But it wasn’t like there were any other options left at this point. “Logan,” Janus said, kneeling down and putting his hands on the boy’s shoulders. He focused on making his voice honey-sweet and sincere. “I’m going to keep you safe, you understand? I would never abandon you. You are in charge of keeping your brothers safe until I return, but I will be back in a month or two.” Janus held the little boy’s brown eyes and tried not to think of humans with their traps and spears and guns and the way that once Janus left the forest he would have nowhere to hide.

“I will come back,” Janus told Logan, and he put his whole heart into his lie. “I promise.”

***

“I don’t want to move to some stupid village.” Virgil kicked his feet against the edge of the wagon petulantly, poking a piece of straw through the bars of his kestrel Thomas’s cage.

Patton sighed and reached back to ruffle his son’s hair, not taking his eyes from the winding dirt road. “I know, kiddo. We’re going to have a better life there. The Lord Protector offers a handsome salary to Hunters who can bring down wolves. They say the town is terrorized day and night, and they need to rid the forest of these pests so they can safely harvest the wood and expand the borders of the town.”

“But I hate when you go hunting!” Virgil crawled up to the driver’s seat beside Patton and clung to his arm. “I’m always so scared you’ll get eaten up! Or step in a trap! Or fall off a cliff! Or drown! Or—”

“Hey, there. Hey, now.” Patton wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulders. “Breathe, child. Breathe for me.” He murmured soothingly for a few minutes. “Now, come on, tell me: who taught you to draw a bow and arrow?”

“You,” Virgil mumbled.

“Good lad. And who taught you to track?”

“You did.”

“And what do you think? Am I a good Hunter? Haven’t I always kept you safe as can be?”

“Yes, but—”

“Virgil,” Patton interrupted, gentle but firm.

Virgil fidgeted for a moment. “It only has to go bad once, and you’d never come home again!”

“It’s a good thing I’d never do that, then,” Patton said, chucking Virgil under the chin and chuckling. “I mean, I have a sturdy little lad to look after, I must always make sure I hasten home to him at the end of the day.” He drew Virgil close and gave him a protective, reassuring hug. “Nothing’s going to get your Papa. I promise. I will always protect you, Virgil, you hear me? And today, the best way to protect you is to find ourselves a new home out here. We’ll make do, never you worry. I’m sure you’ll have lots of new friends in no time!”

Taglist (ask to be added/removed!):

@theimprobabledreamersworld @private-snippers @fivehargreeves05

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hela-avenger · 4 years

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To the Stars Who Listen- Part 3

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1583

Summary: When Loki desires to never fall in love, he casts a spell to prevent such a thing from happening. Except, well, in the matters of love and magic, you never know the result it may have in the end. Loki x Reader

A/N: And so it begins! Thanks for all the likes/reblogs/comments everyone! I see them and I appreciate them! I’ll probably be updating every Tuesday and Thursday now so there’s that. Tags are open!

TTSWL Masterlist

You feel like you’re floating in the middle of a dark pool surrounded by cold and unknown waters. It is relentless in its attempts to drag you down into nothing. Some part of you desires to just let yourself sink and try to ground yourself to whatever you find below. It would be so easy and yet a part of you knew that if you allowed yourself to reach the bottom you would be unable to float up once again.

So you fight against the rising tide to keep your head above the water. It doesn’t take long then to be pulled out of that darkness.

“She’s waking up.”

“She can’t,” someone mumbles next to you. “That tranq should have kept her under for the rest of the night.”

“It’s the power within her. Must have adapted around the sedative to wake its host up from it. The power won’t be put so easily to rest.”

“Then do something about it!”

“I can’t until she’s fully conscious!”

As if on cue, your eyes flutter open. Your eyelids feel heavy and the brightness in the room doesn’t help your sudden weak state.

“What’s-” you voice cracks and your tongue feels so foreign in your mouth. “What’s going on?”

Your sight blurs in and out but you recognize that bright red hair from anywhere.

“Nat?”

“Hey, Y/N,” she whispers beside you. “It’s ok. You’re ok.”

You can’t help but feel suddenly angry at the lie that she’s so blatantly telling you at the moment.

“Liar, liar,” you mutter through gritted teeth. “Pants on...”

A hand is quick to cover your mouth and you move to shove it off only to find your hands handcuffed to the hospital bed.

“That would have not bode well and you know that.”

You glare at your assailant only to find Loki staring down at you with a grin. The anger doesn’t fade away at the sight of him. It seems to enhance and he takes notice of it too.

“Everyone out!”

Your eyes snap away as you take in the crowd that’s in the room. Everyone is apparently there and you find this sudden urge to yell at them for staring.

“We’re not-” Tony starts to say before Loki cuts him off.

“She’s still quite volatile and until she gains some ounce of control, she will not stop until you are all disposed of.”

With that warning, they all have no other choice but to leave. They all shoot you a sympathetic look and you despise it. You don’t know why you’re feeling so darkly about your friends but you couldn’t stop it.

“I know,” Loki whispers as he looks down at you. “I know you are quite confused, but I’m going to let go of you now and I hope you can rein in your emotions and be civil with me.”

His honesty is oddly refreshing and you find yourself relaxing under his hold. True to his word, he releases you and you watch closely as he retreats into the seat next to you.

“I’m sure you have questions.”

“So, so many, don’t know where to begin,” you answer. “My head is spinning and I see no end.”

You frown at the choice of words that flowed out of your mouth so casually.

“Why am I rhyming? Why can’t I stop? Tell me now before my head drops.”

“I will answer your questions but I need you to remain calm,” Loki responds. “Can’t have you losing your head... literally.”

You take a deep breath trying your best to ease your mind, but it was hard. You didn’t know what was going on and why, out of everyone you knew, Loki was the one assisting you with it.

“You seemed surprised to find everyone here,” Loki states. “Do you not remember how you got here?”

You shake your head feeling uneasy of not having any recent memories since the museum.

“You found a book, one of mine, known as the Book of Veritas,” Loki explains. “Essentially, you got too close to it and it unleashed a power to you. I’m not sure exactly the extent of your abilities but I do know that you will have a knack of always knowing the truth of whoever you meet.”

He pauses as you try to make sense of everything you’ve been told. Oddly enough, some innate part of you told you he wasn’t lying which further proved that his explanation was indeed right.

“Now, as for your rhyming tongue,” Loki takes a deep breath and shrugs. “I can only presume that this new psychic development is one your mortal mind isn’t capable of withstanding. You are overwhelmed and your mind has reverted to a default language to ease the strain.”

“This is not ok,” you mumble. “Am I stuck this way?”

“No, not if I can help it,” Loki answers. “The rhyming is getting on my nerves already.”

He frowns, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Don’t know why I told you that. Must be another side effect of yours.”

You open your mouth to respond but close it when you realize that whatever apologies you had would end up rhyming and sounding insincere.

Loki doesn’t question your silence and instead props his hand up for you to take. You find yourself hesitating even though something told you he meant no harm.

“I just need to assess the power you have,” Loki explains. “It’ll be quick and harmless.”

With that answer, you raise your hand as far as the handcuff allowed you to. Loki met you halfway and you instantly feel a warmth spreading through your body.

“Hmm,” he hums. “That’s surprising.”

He lets go of your hand and looks up at you.

“You’ve grown stronger since you first came in. Not strong enough to expel your power physically so we will have to do this the hard way.”

“Hard way?” you repeat.

“You need to dig deep and spread some truth.”

“How is that hard?”

“Because certain truths, the heaviest ones, we like to keep real close,” Loki explains. “You don’t remember this, but you pinpointed some of your friends' insecurities when you first came in. You were quite cruel with them.“

You frown at hearing this hoping your friends knew you hadn’t meant any of it. As if sensing where your mind had drifted to, Loki speaks up.

“They know it wasn’t you,” he assures you. “It’s all because of the power residing in you. There is no way to extract it without killing you so the solution here is to gain control of it. Seeing as I am the expert on the book and magic itself, I’m going to train you. So first, let’s get you back to speaking normally.”

You nod in response and take a deep breath.

“Speak the truth. Use me as a target if you wish. I like to think I’ve got thick skin when it comes to taunting.”

You hesitate at Loki’s offer, but you find it so easy to read him.

“Little Loki went into the Great Hall. Little Loki had a big fall. Little Loki was the laughing stock of them all. Little Loki felt so utterly small.”

Loki chuckles at the memory you brought forth. It was simple and childish. Yes it was embarrassing to fall in front of the royal court but it was just a drop in the ocean compared to everything else. He sits back in his chair and looks at you.

“Now I know you can do better than that,” Loki states. “Come on, dig deeper.”

You find yourself focusing a bit harder on him and the words just slipped out of your mouth with ease.

“Silver tongue turned to lead. Thor won her heart in your stead. Princess Elvira loved the royal prince. Loki wasn’t even offered a second glimpse.”

That one did make him wince but Loki wasn’t utterly devastated at the memory of the Alfheim princess favoring his brother over him. You were getting close to gaining some control but your rhyming tongue still stood strong.

“Dig deeper,” Loki repeats.

You take a deep breath and clear your mind of everything but Loki. Envisioning his image, his voice, his overall being.

Eyes turning red. Ivory skin turning blue. Cold, everything is cold.

“I…” you stammer out confused. “I’ll rather not say.”

Loki pauses wondering what it is that you saw but withheld from saying.

“Y/N.”

“No, it’s a secret for a reason,” you shake your head. “I don’t really understand what I saw exactly but it felt so dark.”

Loki knew better than to push you to state what you saw in him. He suspected already of the secret you might have uncovered. You had certainly dug deep if you managed to find it.

He shrugs it off like he always does and looks at you with a small smile.

“You didn’t rhyme that time,” Loki states. “You managed to not only control what truth to find but whether or not to say it. That’s progress.”

“Does that mean I can get these off?” you ask as you raise your cuffed wrists.

With a snap of his fingers, the handcuffs are pried open. You stare down at your freed wrists and look up at him in surprise. Last you were told, Loki was incapable of doing magic.

“How did you do that?”

Loki doesn’t deem you a verbal response as he offers you a grin before getting up and leaving you on your own.

TTSWL Tag: @catsladen @is-it-madness @manyfandoms-marvel @mejusttryintogetby @illogicalfangirl @moonlightprime @islinglivesinshire @musicconversedance @missmadwoman @smaranshakthi @adaydreamingdragon @poetic-fiasco @like-a-wildfire @jasminecalia @ha-tep @charbokbok @setsuna-meiou31 @ms-blvck

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74 @sizzlingbarbarianglitter @sigyn-nightshade @aoirohi @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @just-a-donut-who-reads @day-dreaming-fox

All Works Tag: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @hellocookiecutter @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak @strangersstranger @thefridgeismybestie @moonlightprime @badhollandfluff

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alorenawrites · 3 years

Text

On Words and Meaning

So I've been thinking a lot about how Loki is being discussed and the words used, particularly by Hiddleston, given his bent for using literary language in his descriptions. There are three words I want to touch on in this little post, one of them definitely rooted in his usage.

So the first I want to touch on is the term "romance." We've heard (often from Hiddleston), that Loki is, at heart, a romance. I think there's a dimension of the discussion missing in these conversations in that is important to consider.

To the layman, a romance is simply a love story, sometimes with a sexual undertone. But in the literary sense, a romance is a much deeper genre. I want to consider that this layer may also be present in Hiddleston's intent on using the term in describing the story arc. It certainly is in mine, as someone with a fascination with literary form and also with an English degree who has spent way too much time exploring genre.

So firstly, we need to define "romance." From literaryterms.net:

I. What is Romance?

In the strictest academic terms, a romance is a narrative genre in literature that involves a mysterious, adventurous, or spiritual story line where the focus is on a quest that involves bravery and strong values, not always a love interest. However, modern definitions of romance also include stories that have a relationship issue as the main focus.

II. Examples of Romance

In the academic sense, an example of a romance is a story in which the main character is a hero who must conquer various challenges as part of a quest. Each challenge could be its own story and can be taken out of the overall story without harming the plot.

Example 1

A knight who wishes to prove himself by recovering a stolen heirloom from an enemy may find himself attempting to make his way through a dangerous wood filled with thieves.

Once he has accomplished this challenge, he may find himself climbing a tall mountain on which a group of people are in trouble. He would save the group somehow, and then move on.

Then the final stage: the enemy’s kingdom. There may be a fair maiden whom he meets and somehow helps or rescues, or perhaps she helps him.

But the fair maiden is not the focus of the story – his quest is the focus. Each story can be taken out, yet each builds the hero’s strength to face his final quest. These stories tend to be serious rather than humorous and touch on strong values.

In considering this, I've thought about Loki's arc as a quest that does, indeed, involve the discovery and exploration of strong values with a three part quest, though I don't think the quests entirely stand on their own. The overarching theme is about Loki discovering his sense of self- his quest to become a full person, not just a trope for the universe to exploit so others can reach their better selves. I divide the show up in to three quests. The first, in episodes 1 and 2, is Loki finding a sense of purpose in the new world- his quest is to discover who this new variant is and where they are hiding. This is resolved by the end of that second episode. The second arc takes place in the next two episodes- Loki discovering his empathy for others is the continuation of the overarching personal development plot, while his quest is to discover Sylvie's goals and to uncover/share the truth behind the TVA. And in our third section, episodes 5 and 6, we get the culmination of the personal growth arc in his ultimate discovery of different facets of himself (illuminated by the different elements of self shown in the multitude of variant Lokis) while the quest is to uncover who is in control of the Sacred Timeline and why. The differences in colour palettes, settings, tones, etc. between the three episode pairings is a part of how I started to distinguish my thoughts on each. And regardless of the visual distinctions, I most definitely see the entire arc as exploring strong values and bravery, though the bravery is multi-layered, showing not only the visible bravery of facing down an apocalypse, Alioth, etc., but the internal bravery of challenging one's self and digging deep into discovering who one really is. This is a theme of queerness that I see lingering in this series- discovering who we are is a process, not an outcome.

I think that this definition of a romance, in the classical sense, is a little oversimplified, as there is often a theme of discovery of self or improvement of self along the way. In a Gothic romance, themes of "the people are the real monsters" come into play (Crimson Peak is an excellent example of this)- there may be elements of the supernatural, but the real thing of which the viewer/reader should be afraid is the person behind the curtain. Gothic romances also often do include a love story arc, but it is often deeply flawed on some level and often also includes some sort of sexual or romantic awakening, often by a female lead, that leads to the discovery of whatever darker is taking place (Crimson Peak turns this on its head in that it is Thomas' awakening with Edith that leads to his turning point and Edith's realization that the Sharpe siblings are the monsters, not the ghosts in the hall). The themes of discovery of self, or of the fortitude of moral values, or of the journey of a person's development, play into both a Gothic romance and its foundations in a classical romance.

So. There's part 1 of this ramble.

On to part 2!

The next word I want to examine is the term "relationship" and its companion, "love." Now, mind you, I come at this from a queer perspective as a demisexual, demiromantic individual, so these two words are ones I've spent a LOT of time pondering, in the quest to define my own identity.

We've heard the term "relationship" tossed around so often with only a romantic implication attached, but in truth, this word is so much more broad than this. You are in a relationship with your barber. You are in a relationship with your cat. You are in a relationship with a spiritual advisor, a professor, your best friend, your partner. Just because it is so heavily used in this way doesn't mean the relationship is only an intimate one (though intimate relationships are also not inherently sexual or romantic in nature, either, so let's remember this as well). Now if we break down what a relationship is, it's just a consistent interaction with someone based on some common interest or goal. It's a remarkably benign word. Its connotations, however, take it in a multitude of directions.

So let's look at it through the lens of an intimate relationship and add in the component of love. We'll start with just a blanket statement that love is not only one single thing. It isn't just romantic. It is our family, our friends, our pets, pie, the colour blue, that feeling of perfection when the waves of a warm lake brush over your calves...love is embedded in the experiences of these things. We love them. Love it as vast and broad as relationships. We love places, people, things, and experiences. We love ourselves (or we try to learn to).

In my world, through my particular brand of queerness, love changes in intimate relationships on a regular basis. I love my partner dearly. But on some days, that love is to my best friend, while other days, it is a romantic love and on others, sexual expression may be involved, but they may overlap in different ways. Sexual expression is independent of romantic attraction and the degree of each isn't tied together in any way. If we can separate these things, I think we can see the relationships in our everyday lives in different lights and with greater complexity.

I also think that looking at these things through the lens of diverse sexual and romantic experiences can inform how we interpret the Loki x Sylvie pairing and why some of us just aren't bothered by it (though certainly not the only reason people aren't).

We've been told Loki loves Sylvie. That much is beautifully clear. But love (and being in a relationship) doesn't automatically mean that 1) both parties are experiencing it in the same way, 2) both parties have the same approach or priorities, 3) the level of romance is necessarily the same between the people involved, 4) that sexual attraction exists at all.

Sometimes a kiss is a form of communication and not tied to the want to shag someone.

So this is where my interpretation of this particular pairing comes into play. I do see the story as a romance, in the classical sense, but also with a slight streak of the more modern sense involved. The focus is still on the quest, even when the love story emerges. And that is where I see the priorities of these characters and their definitions of the relationship differing and I analyze it through these different dimensions of love and relationship orientations.

Loki actually embodies one of the traits I've seen listed for demisexuals- we hold our friendships extremely close and because we hold our friendships the way we do, it isn't uncommon for us to end up with crushes on our best friends (and no, they don't generally develop into other forms of relationships, but they could). This is the phase in which I see Loki by episode 6. He has formed this intense bond, unlike any other it seems he's had, and his heart is breaking over the thought of losing her to her own rage. All he wants is for her to be OK, remember? This isn't a selfish action. But I think it is significant that while he tries to stop her, he's not the one who initiates the kiss. All his actions here are ones that a close friend would also do for their best friend. Like, I'd try to stop my besties from inadvertently destroying the universe. I'd even throw down over it. And for the exact same reasons- the risks are too great, we need to think, and I want them to be OK. Almost everything Loki does throughout his growing closeness to Sylvie is something I'd do for one of the people I've told I'd defend- as in, I literally told some of these people, "anybody messes with you, I'll cut a bitch- just tell me who and I'm there."

So because of all this, I don't see this relationship as sexual in any way. Romantic? Possibly. But not necessarily. Even being in love with one another doesn't mean a relationship has to have a sexual component.

Looking at Sylvie, I see her also as having found companionship with Loki, but her overriding goal is, ultimately, not to bond with someone- it's her mission. And she has sacrificed her entire life because of the TVA to this mission. She tells him repeatedly, in one way or another, that the mission comes first. Yes, she does care about him, but I don't think the way she cares about him is the same as the way he cares about her because they have differing priorities and needs (and hence why she feels betrayed by him when he tries to stop her). Or at least she hasn't allowed herself to express that. When she falls to the ground after she's killed He Who Remains, I think we get a glimpse of what Loki meant to her- she is alone, she grieves, and there is no meaning left to her story. She's done what she dedicated her entire life to and the person who could have given it other meaning is no longer beside her.

I still don't think that the first thing they would do upon seeing each other is suck face and have wild sex. Would that bother me? No, not really. I can headcanon something different than what actually happens, I'm fine with that (just look at all this glorious headcanoning happening right here!) I'd like it to stay a romantic friendship (queer platonic relationships for the win- they're squishes!) because I don't think we hardly ever see those types of relationships and queer platonic relationships are incredibly beautiful and powerful and yes, based on love and maybe even romance, in their own way. They are defined by the people in them, as are all relationships.

And now to address "but she kissed him!"

Yes, she did. And I've kissed my partner when there wasn't romance involved because I wanted to share a moment, to express something deeper than I had words for (yes, even on one of my aromantic leaning days), or just because it's fun. And it doesn't have to "match" up with how the other partner feels it, either, so long as the message itself is what comes across. This is how I read the Sylvie x Loki kiss. It was a message of worthiness. Loki's entire arc, including in that scene, is in discovering if he's anyone different than the monster he's made himself out to be (and encouraged others to see him as). He tells Sylvie that he can't be trusted, falling back on the habit of characterizing himself as the professional liar, the one who can't form those attachments which are built on trust. He also identifies her as someone incapable of trust in that moment, which I think is also a projection of how he sees himself. He tells Mobius he can only trust himself and the show slowly shows Loki coming to trust others, but in this moment in the Citadel, he's falling back on a different perception of himself.

This is where the kiss comes in, for me. Sylvie isn't trying to tell him she'd jump him right then and there, if things were different. Sylvie is trying to tell him that she does trust him, that he can be trusted, and that he is worthy of the affection of a friend, even if she can't have him in her way. She is prioritizing her mission, yes, but not without giving him some sort of reassurance, in her own way, that this rejection isn't personal. That he isn't too broken to be loved. It doesn't have to go into romance (not saying it couldn't, just saying it isn't a requirement). It doesn't have to go into sexual relationship territory.

Maybe I see this so vastly differently because of my experiences exploring gender, sexuality, and romantic orientation. Maybe I see this so differently because at this stage in my life, I would absolutely kiss a friend if I felt something so heavy was going to break them. I have a friend I say "I love you" to every time we talk on the phone or video chat- we've been together for 20 years. I've got photo proof of a snuggle pile of friends when I was a young adult. I've shared a bed with a friend with no reason other than that we didn't want to sleep on the floor and why not. I've had friendships that were awkward to start and intense once they got going that are absolutely still important in my life. I've had crushes on friends that have faded and just shown me another dimension of what it is to love someone. I've watched adults who struggle to make connections to other people discover those moments of awkward "how do I do friend mode?" and come out stronger for them, with that huge sense of victory hidden behind a small smile they don't want to share with anyone else quite yet.

I see so much possibility in how we interpret a television show reduced to "it's a romance and that's sick and incest and he wants to fuck himself!" and it just saddens me that so many people have such a limited understanding and experience of the depth and breadth of human relationships and of how people love one another.

#loki show #loki meta #thoughts on love and relationships #literary genre romance #loki and sylvie

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empyreanwritings · 4 years

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Over-Protective

Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Udaku!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Language (as usual), blood and gore, mentions of death, some sexual tension in between

Summary: You’re on a path of discovering all of Hydra’s secrets, but a certain someone keeps interrupting you when you least expect it.

A/N: This is my fic for @buckysknifecollection for the giveaway! Again, I am so sorry it took me so long, I have been struggling to keep up with all the fics I gotta write. Hopefully this is going to help push my motivation along. Ily so much, I really do hope you enjoy it! x

Feedback is always welcome and appreciated :) x

Hydra. A mob run by some of the most vile people in the city. No one could ever seem to get them under control, and anyone who tried ended up fired - or dead. While some politicians denied it, everyone knew they had their hands dipped in Hydra's honey pot; it was the only way they managed to stay in power so long. Pierce, who had more blood on his hands than the entire U.S. military, was the greatest example. No accusation ever seemed to stick.

Your family did its best to stay out of mob business, until Zemo killed your father. Your brother joined Steve Rogers, the only man who was willing to cross Hydra and take Zemo out. He became one of Steve's closest advisors when it came to business deals and expansion; he had a knack for ruling behind the scenes.

And your cousin, while you didn't agree with his methods, built his own world within the city. He seized the dock's out from under Hydra's control and made a new name for himself: Killmonger. Most of the family didn't approve of what he did to avenge your father, but you didn't mind much. The only time you actually despised seeing Erik was Thanksgiving because he always managed to swipe the last piece of pumpkin pie before you could. That was a worse betrayal than joining the mob could ever be in your eyes.

Despite everything, you still felt like it wasn't enough. You wanted to see Hydra burn. Everything they built, everything they stood for, you wanted to watch it crumble.

You slipped through crowds of people, doing your best not to be noticed by the man you were following. Working for The Daily Bugle taught you how to go unseen in order to get a good story. There were times you weren't always successful - like the first time you met Steve and managed to knock pipes all over the ground - but the longer you worked, the better you became. You tailed this man for miles, and he hadn't noticed you yet.

He stopped in one of the cafes, and you were just about to follow him in when someone grabbed you by your elbow and yanked you into the alley. The surprise of it caught you off guard, giving you no time to reach for your pepper spray before your attacker pinned your arms against the wall.

But you were surprised to look up and see it wasn't an attacker at all - it was Steve.

"What the hell are you doing?" You pitched your head forward to get him to stumble back, and once he let you go, you put a few feet between the two of you. You trusted him, but you were pissed he made you lose your only lead.

"Nakia called," he replied casually. "She said you were digging into things you shouldn't have been."

"Exposing Hydra's sex trafficking ring could be the biggest story of my career! And it can help us take them down once and for all!"

Steve huffed, a slight flicker of annoyance crossing his face. "There is no 'us' in all of this. You know your brother wants you to stay out, and I have to agree with him. Anyone who digs into Hydra's work disappears and gets recovered in the river a few days later."

You rolled your eyes. Every time Steve tried to use the "Your brother said so" excuse, you knew it wasn't just your brother. Steve let you sit in on a few of his interrogations, so you could work on your mob series. He didn't have to, but as soon as he found out you were T'Chaka's daughter, he knew you weren't going to just give up on what you were doing. Your entire family was filled with stubborn people. He figured if he gave you a little insight on what his life was like, you wouldn't feel the need to dig deeper. But he should have known you weren't going to stop until you uncovered the truth about Hydra and why they ordered the hit on your father.

"Stark said-"

"Of course Stark is behind this," he grumbled. "That man would be willing to sacrifice everyone that works for him in order to get a good scoop."

"Hey! You might not always get along with him, but he's actually on your side. He doesn’t want me to do this piece either because he knows what the repercussions can be." You shifted from side to side, Steve's piercing gaze suddenly making you feel like a bundle of nerves. "But he agreed to let me do it by myself, so I'm not dragging anybody else down with me."

"How does that make it better?"

"You will try to find something negative in everything I say, won't you?"

"Maybe I do because I'm the only one using common sense here!"

"Common sense?" You barked out a laugh. "You manage to have common sense in that thick skull of yours?"

You weren't sure how - or when - it happened, but you were suddenly very aware that you stood toe to toe with Steve. Your chin stuck out defiantly, and he rolled his shoulders back. Neither of you made a move to stand down, and it made your heart hammer inside of your chest.

It was a terrible time to notice, but you never realized how blue his eyes were. When he was angry, one of his eyebrows twitched, and you had to suppress the feeling to reach up and make it stop yourself. It was an urge you never had before. The feeling of being this close to him suddenly made you feel too hot, so you were the first one to step back. Reluctantly.

You pretended not to notice the disappoint flood his features because if he enjoyed being close to you, that meant everything was going to change. You weren't ready for something like that.

He sighed and ran his hands down his face. "I'm trying to look out for you. Your family doesn't need to bury another person this year."

You hated that he was right, but it wasn't his decision to make. You refused to let your father die in vain after all of the good he did for this world. He didn't deserve to meet his end the way he did, and if something happened to you while taking them down then so be it.

"I'm a big girl, Steve. I can handle myself."

You didn't give him a chance to argue with you again. You warned him that you would start screaming for help if he tried to stop you and took off out of the alley in hopes of finding your mark. He was long gone by the time you made it to the entrance of the alley, but you had a feeling you knew where he was going. You'd be able to catch up to him before the end of the day.

Steve watched you go, irritated that he couldn't convince you to stop digging. Your stubbornness was sexy when you weren't using it against him, but even then, he couldn't help but feel a little impressed.

He quickly dialed Bucky's number and moved back into the alley, so no one could hear him. He never knew what strangers were secretly involved with Hydra, and he didn't want anyone ratting him out to get into their good favor.

"Hey, Buck, I need you to do me a favor," he mumbled. "Y/N was looking into James Winderfield. Get his schedule and find out where he was going around this time. I need to get to him before she does."

---

Charming your way into a building with strong security was a lot harder than you expected it to be. The front desk workers weren't impressed with you slinging around titles. Who cared if you were supposedly the wife of a prince overseas? They saw couples like that all the time on TV, so they weren't fawning over you, but you got lucky because they just didn't want to deal with you. You imagined they had to deal with a lot of stuck up clients, and they were bending their last straw.

You made your way towards the elevators past security, slipping the fake rock off your finger and sliding it back into your purse. Not a single person was looking at you, and yet it felt like everyone was aware of your presence. Sneaking into a rival mob made you more paranoid than usual. You ended up working yourself into a small panic attack just as you made it into the elevator.

You were about to let out a small sigh of relief when a familiar, annoyingly smug, face stepped in and made sure no one got in after him when the doors closed.

If Steve Rogers was anything, he was a persistent man. You wanted to knock that persistence right in his nose, but you had a feeling you would break your hand before you did any real damage to that chiseled face of his. And it really was chiseled.

The two of you rode in silence for a few moments. He waited until you were two floors away to your destination to hit the emergency stop button, which made you throw your hands up and groan in total frustration. His lips twitched at the corners, and you knew right away he was enjoying this - and that irritated you more than actually being stopped.

"Oh, don't worry, the elevator will get fixed eventually," he assured you. "I won't be late to my meeting with Mr. Winderfield." You looked up at him, eyes growing wide and your chest beginning to heave. He furrowed his brows in mock confusion, and you knew he was gearing up to say something slick. "What's the matter? Was that the man you were trying to follow this morning?"

You ground your teeth together. "You knew that already. How the hell did you find out so quickly?"

"I have a feeling my sources are better than your sources."

"You can't call Bucky intimidating people a good source," you quipped.

Steve shrugged and leaned his hands back against the small railing. He clearly had no intention of letting you speak to Mr. Winderfield alone; why else would he show up here and let you get this far? If he set up a meeting, he was willing to entertain your plans but only on his terms.

You reminded yourself to thank Nakia for making your day a lot harder than you wanted it to be, but you understood where she was coming from. She wanted to keep you safe. She had been there the day you and your family found out about your father, and she didn't want them to go through that again. It wasn't entirely a bad thing. It really wasn't. Her protectiveness just made everything that much more difficult to obtain.

"Fine. What will it take for you to let me sit in and speak with him?" You asked, trying your best to hide the frustration in your voice.

"You don't speak with him at all." You opened your mouth to protest, but he stepped forward and pressed a finger to your lips. "You don't speak to him at all. I will make this seem like a casual conversation about Hydra encroaching on my territory, and you will take notes because you're my secretary. Write down names and locations, anything you may need to work your way up to Pierce. You will not say a word about who you are; you are just a secretary. Do you understand?"

Your mouth felt dry. The assertive tone to his voice made you understand why women seemed to fall at his feet when he called. His hands were so close to you, they could easily reach down and grab your chin or your throat and make you listen to every word falling from his lips. The words "I understand, Sir," were dancing on the tip of your tongue, and you wanted to slap yourself silly for even thinking it.

You quickly blinked and cleared your throat to recover. "Fine, fine, but don't skip any hard questions just because you don’t want me digging, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Steve hit the button again, and the elevator instantly sprung back to life. Once you stepped out, the cooler air of the floor hit your face and brought you back down to earth. Being that close to Steve made you feel hot, and it was the second time it happened today. You weren't sure what would go down if either of you ever made it to a third.

---

The meeting started off well. You understood how Steve managed to build his empire; he was a charming man, full of life and control. He commanded a room the second he stepped in. Not a single person would dare to take it from him or speak over him. Sometimes his control wasn't in words alone but in his body language as well.

Steve never sat down when he spoke. He kept his shoulders relaxed, but you could see the guarded expression on his face. He wasn't worried about losing control of the situation, but he was always prepared for the worst. You couldn't help but wonder if he was more on edge because of your presence. He didn't need to say it out loud - you could tell by the way he acted - your protection was most important to him. Your family didn't deserve to lose another person. And maybe he didn't want to lose you either.

Unfortunately, even with Steve trying his best, the meeting did go south. Winderfield knew who you were before you walked in. He played along for a little while, pretending he didn't know who your father was. It was when you tried to leave that you were greeted by the barrel of his gun. Neither of you knew, but an order was put out on anyone who tried to get information about T'Chaka's death - higher reward if the person taken out was family.

Steve should have predicted something like this, and he kicked himself for not doing so.

He looked between you and Winderfield, carefully and silently calculating his next move. The office was too wide. He knew he wouldn't be able to push you out of the line of fire before a bullet hit you.

"Don't even think about moving, Rogers," Winderfield hissed. "She'll be dead before you blink an eye."

"Wouldn't I be of more value to Hydra alive?" You piped up. Steve looked over at you as if you had two heads, and he wanted to yell at you to keep your mouth shut, but he didn't. Mainly because he worried that you would kill him as soon as you got the chance for doing so.

Winderfield scoffed. "What the hell are you going on about?"

"You want Killmonger's territory, right? Newsflash: I'm his cousin. He'll be willing to make a deal if there is sign of life." Erik loved you, but Steve didn't believe he'd give up his own territory for you. He was too unpredictable to trust, yet you spoke as if you believed your words wholeheartedly. "It would be a waste to let me die and not consider those possibilities."

There was a moment of hesitation in Winderfield's eyes, and Steve used the opportunity to draw his gun and shoot. The impact of the bullet made him drop his gun, but not before he got one shot in. Steve heard you yelp, and he turned to make sure you were okay. You were clutching your arm, streams of red pouring down your white sleeve. He was thankful it wasn't anything fatal; Mr. Winderfield couldn't say the same. Steve knew he landed a good shot. The man wouldn't survive the blood loss.

He dashed to your side, murmuring promises of patching you up once the two of you made it out of the building. You had to take the stairs since security was coming up the elevator. He practically had to carry you down the last few flights - partly because you were out of breath, but also due to the dizziness that started to settle in. You weren't sure if it was the thrill of everything going on or the blood still pouring from your arm, but you would have passed out if it weren't for Steve.

As he held you up, you noticed the way his muscles flexed under his shirt. It was a terrible time to notice something like that, you knew it, but you couldn't stop yourself from giving his bicep the slightest squeeze. If he caught on to what you did, he didn't make it known. Which you appreciated. If he thought you were feeling him up, his ego would never let you live it down.

A car was already waiting for you at the back exit, as if Steve knew something like this would happen. Ever the prepared man. Bucky sat in the driver's seat, his eyes going wide when Steve lifted you into the back. There wasn't time to question what happened; a small security group burst through the door you had just ran through and started firing at the car.

"Go!" Steve ordered, half a shout and half a plea.

He grabbed the back of your neck and forced your head down into his lap to avoid any of the shots. The tires of the car squealed to life as Bucky sped out of the alley. Your stomach lurched when he swerved into traffic, and based on the honks you heard, drivers weren't too happy about it either.

"I think I'm going to be sick," you whimpered. You started to loosen the pressure on your wound, and Steve instantly pressed his hand against it for you.

"Where should we go?" Bucky asked once he knew no one was tailing the three of you.

"Natasha's. She's far enough out of the city that we'll notice if someone is still following us."

Bucky sucked in a breath. "You know she's not going to like us showing up unannounced. With Wanda being pregnant and all-"

"She owes me," he quipped with such a finality in his tone that Bucky didn't bother to argue.

You didn't care where you ended up, you just silently hoped it would be somewhere with a suitable first aid kit. And maybe a bucket for you to finally throw up in.

---

Bucky was right, Natasha wasn't happy to see Steve on her doorstep, but she ushered the three of you in anyways. Steve was lucky looks couldn't kill because Natasha glared daggers at the back of his head the entire time. She only looked away when she realized you were going limp against his side. You thought you heard her mumble something about 'talking about this later' but you weren't entirely sure.

Steve guided you upstairs to the master bathroom. Droplets of blood hit the white tile, and you flinched at how disgusting it must have looked. You also felt bad because it was clear Natasha and her wife did a lot to keep their house looking clean. And here you were, walking through it with a trail of blood coming from you.

He helped you onto the counter before he started rummaging through everything for the first aid kit. You leaned back, resting your head against the mirror, and took several deep breaths. The wound couldn't have been too deep, but it was enough to make you feel queasy. Other people's blood didn't affect you as much as seeing your own did. Your blood was supposed to be inside your body, so when it wasn't, your brain worked overtime to make you feel faint.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as he cleaned you up. You managed to hold in your groans even when he started to stitch the wound. Every time you flinched, Steve would pause and let you get used to the pain before continuing on. He was gentle. And attentive. He paid attention to even the slightest change in breathing to gauge how you were doing and continued on accordingly.

"You're a little too good at stitches," you teased quietly, not able to get yourself to speak much louder. "Should I be worried about your meetings always ending up in shootouts?"

Steve looked up at you, a small smile dancing at the corner of his lips. "You admitting you worry about me in general?"

"I'm worried about my brother, actually. Since you drag him along to all of them."

He hummed in response, not believing your words for a second. You weren't a terrible liar; you just weren't sure what the truth was right now.

Did you care about your brother's safety when he was around Steve? Of course you did. But your worry didn't stem from Steve's ability to protect him. He showed you today that he was quick to act when it came to protecting others. There was just a small voice in your mind that kept pushing you to admit you cared about Steve's safety too. Not because of your brother, but because you cared about him in general. Even if he was a pain in your ass.

"You saved my life today," you mentioned with a smile. "Thank you."

"I'd do it again."

You chuckled. "Because my brother would kill you if you didn't?"

"No," he paused, giving himself a moment to think about that answer, and shook his head. "Well, yes, but that's not the only reason."

"Oh?"

"Don't pretend like you don't already know what that is."

You trapped your bottom lip between your teeth. You did know, but was it wrong of you to want him to say it out loud? He was a man that made your stomach do cartwheels with a single look. His smile made any woman - yourself included - swoon. He could have anyone he wanted in this world, and all you wanted was for him to admit that he only wanted you.

You wondered if that was moving too fast, so you stayed quiet.

"I care about you too," you assured him.

He paused again. A beat of silence passed, and he leaned over to press a kiss on your forehead. He didn't say it, but you knew he was thinking it. He cared about you just as much.

And that was enough for now.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #mob!steve rogers #mob au #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

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giveamadeuschohisownmovie · 4 years

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RWBY / Danganronpa AU write-up:

(After watching Game Grumps play DR this morning, I’ve had Danganronpa on the mind. So, I decided to write this up for fun)

Set-up: In an alternate universe, teams RWBY, JNPR, SSSN, and CFVY are invited to attend Hope’s Peak Academy, the next step to becoming Huntsmen and Huntresses after graduating from Beacon Academy. Monokuma traps the students there and forces them to kill each other in order to escape.

Chapter 1

The motive for this round is “memory wipe”. If no one is killed in 24 hours, then their loved ones’ memories of them will be wiped out. No one will remember them outside of the school. This freaks out Yatsuhashi Daichi in particular due to his past traumatic experiences with his semblance. And sure enough, he is the first student to die.

During the class trial, the students have a hard time determining who the killer is. As they uncover the truth piece by piece, they soon discover that Yatsuhashi was not as innocent as it seemed. It turns out, he was actually PLANNING on committing a murder of his own. Ruby Rose then starts to wonder if Yatsuhashi was killed in self-defense, that he had actually carried out his plan but failed and was killed by his would-be victim.

The students are about to give up until Nora Valkyrie points out that Yatsuhashi has an unexplained broken rib. The wound wasn’t fatal, which is why the students opted to ignore it. That’s when Ruby realizes that the injury could’ve been caused by a really strong punch.

Cue the “CHOOSE THE GUILTY PERSON” minigame and Ruby selects Yang Xiao Long. After a long back-and-forth of Ruby picking apart the evidence and testimonies, as well as Yang defending herself, Ruby eventually proves beyond a reasonable doubt that Yang killed Yatsuhashi in self-defense. Yang breaks down, wondering if she inherited Uncle Qrow’s misfortune semblance.

Yang’s execution: Yang fights several robots dressed as the White Fang. Suddenly, she’s cornered by a robot dressed as Adam Taurus. Yang tries to fight him but Adam-bot strikes first, cutting off her arm (just like the show). This time, Adam-bot finishes the job by cutting off Yang’s other limbs before decapitating her.

(students eliminated: Yatsuhashi Daichi, Yang Xiao Long / 14 students remaining)

(quick note: just like the actual Danganronpa series, I killed off Yang in the first chapter since the games killed off someone you thought would have been a major character for the rest of the game. Sayaka in DR1, Byakuya in DR2, and Kaede in DR3)

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Chapter 2

The motive for this round is “2 lies and a truth”. The group is given three statements about each other, 2 of which are false and 1 which is true. To prevent the students from just confirming which is true and which is false, Monokuma clarifies that any student who reveals the information in their cards will be killed instantly. This greatly increases the paranoia among the group. Just to give an example of this motive, Ruby’s statements are:

1) Weiss Schnee’s sister, Winter, arrested Qrow Branwen for murder, which he was framed for (in this alternate universe, this turns out to be the true statement but was written by Monokuma out of context in order to make Ruby hate Weiss)

2) Blake Belladonna’s parents scammed Taiyang Xiao Long out of a deal that would’ve made him millions of liens.

3) Lie Ren mocked Summer Rose after her death and has even pissed on her tombstone

And the victim of this round is...Sage Ayana. During the class trial, the group discusses whether anyone had any statements involving Sage. The only ones who do turn out to be Jaune, Coco, and Blake. Ruby proves that Coco was in her room at the time of the murder while Blake is cleared by Sun Wukong (he says something about how Blake needed him for help with a special project).

Side note: Blake later reveals that her special project was investigating the academy to find any clues regarding Monokuma’s identity and what happened to Hope’s Peak.

This leaves Jaune. After prying him for information, Jaune reveals that his statement about Sage was, “Sage Ayana was planning on blackmailing Jaune’s family after finding out he forged his transcripts”. Everyone starts suspecting Jaune of being the killer because of this. Then, surprisingly, Jaune admits to killing Sage.

However, after analyzing the evidence, Ruby realizes that Jaune is innocent and is trying to cover for the real killer. Reasoning that Jaune would only do this for people he cared for, Ruby then realizes that the killer has to be someone from JNPR. And that person turns out to be...Pyrrha Nikos.

Despite Jaune’s attempts to defend Pyrrha, Ruby eventually proves beyond a reasonable doubt that Pyrrha killed Sage. After admitting defeat, Pyrrha says that she killed Sage on accident. She and Jaune had confronted Sage and, after a heated argument, Jaune and Sage started fighting. Pyrrha intervened, resulting in Sage’s death.

Pyrrha’s execution: Just like the show, Pyrrha is killed by incineration. However, before she dies, Pyrrha sees that the people “responsible” for killing her are robots made to look like JN_R.

(students eliminated: Sage Ayana, Pyrrha Nikos / 12 students remaining)

(quick note: just like the actual games, the execution in this chapter is meant to propel one character’s arc forward. Mondo in DR1 and Peko in DR2)

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Chapter 3

The motive for this round is control of the Schnee Dust Company. This immediately makes the group wary of Weiss, believing that she’ll try to murder someone in order to maintain control of her family’s business. Weiss tries to convince Ruby that she won’t do such a thing but Ruby, for the first time, is unconvinced of her friend’s intentions.

This chapter is especially brutal since we have two murders to deal with. The first turns out to be Fox Alistair. Then, several minutes later, Neptune Vasilias ends up dead.

The class trial for this chapter is especially complicated due to the two murders. First, the students find out that Neptune was the one who murdered Fox. Ruby wonders if Neptune wanted control of the Schnee Dust Company, to which Sun Wukong says that doesn’t sound like Neptune to him. When the students dig further into the evidence, they start to wonder if Neptune was working with someone.

Ruby proposes the theory that Neptune was ordered by someone to kill Fox. He was then killed by that same person so that the unknown person can claim credit for a murder and to create a complicated scenario that would help them avoid being exposed in trial. This leads to the students turning against Weiss. Ruby points out that Weiss had the most to lose from this motivation and that it would’ve been easy for her to get Neptune to do her dirty work for her (they are still romantically involved in this universe).

After a round of intense questioning, Weiss finally breaks down and reveals that she did indeed plan everything out. She got Neptune to kill Fox and then planned to kill Neptune to complete her plan. However, she swears that she didn’t kill him. Someone else got to Neptune before she could.

When Ruby wonders who else had a reason to kill Neptune, she realizes that the only people who could have a reason would have to be someone close to Fox. This person would also had to have seen Neptune kill Fox and were angered to the point of taking revenge, knowing that would make them the guilty party in the class trial. Ruby then narrows the suspects to two people; Fox’s teammates, Coco Adel and Velvet Scarlatina.

After another intense round of questioning and battling both Coco and Velvet’s arguments, Coco finally admits to killing Neptune. She says that she saw the whole thing and because she was still dealing with Yatsuhashi’s death, she just “snapped”. Coco then bitterly remarks that if she had kept her cool and let Weiss go through with her plan, she would’ve gotten her revenge anyways since Weiss would’ve been exposed in trial.

Coco’s execution: In a bit of irony, Coco is killed by Monokuma with her own miniguns

(students eliminated: Fox Alistair, Neptune Vasilias, Coco Adel / 9 students remaining)

(quick note: just like the games, 3 students are eliminated this round. Also, yes, this is a variation of the Celestia Ludenberg case)

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Chapter 4

The motivation for this round is...nothing! Monokuma says that he was going to give them one but, based on the previous chapter, the group doesn’t need one due to Weiss’ presence. No one, not even Ruby, feels comfortable being around Weiss, despite all her attempts to get people to trust her again.

Eventually, the group does start to warm up to Weiss again. However, that’s when Monokuma intervenes and claims that he helped Weiss with her plot to kill Fox and Neptune. When Ruby asks how he helped her, Monokuma says that in exchange for information on how to best accomplish her murder scheme, Weiss acted as his “mole” by reporting to him directly about the group’s actions. This further enrages the group, especially Blake since she’s been trying to find a way out of Hope’s Peak Academy.

Just as the group is about to imprison Weiss, she ends up dead. Ruby finds Weiss’ body in her room, apparently having committed suicide. Ruby even finds a suicide note by Weiss’ bedside drawer.

The class trial is initially seen as a piece of cake since it’s clear that Weiss committed suicide. It’s only Ruby and Blake who are unconvinced. They insist that the group review the evidence anyways since there might be something they’re missing.

As the groups digs deeper into the evidence, the students realize that there was indeed more to this death than they originally thought. It turns out, Weiss DIDN’T commit suicide. Someone took advantage of the group’s paranoia surrounding Weiss and her own guilt from the previous trial. They then killed Weiss and made it look like she killed herself out of despair.

The group then starts flip-flopping on who could’ve done this. First, the group targets Velvet since she could’ve been seeking to avenge Coco and Fox. Then, the group targets Sun Wukong since he was friends with Neptune and may have been furious over how his friend was manipulated.

Eventually, the group exposes the true killer: Scarlet David. Turns out, he also had the same idea as everyone else and was hoping that the group would focus on Velvet and Sun. Scarlet then says that he had nothing against Weiss, it was purely just to survive. However, he also says that he was justified in what he did due to Weiss’ actions in chapter 3.

Scarlet’s execution: Scarlet is incased in ice. He is then crushed to death by Weiss’ Arma Gigas as a bit of ironic revenge from beyond the grave.

(students eliminated: Weiss Schnee, Scarlet David / 7 students remaining)

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Chapter 5

As the penultimate chapter, Blake’s side mission that was mentioned earlier takes the forefront. Since chapter 2, Blake, Sun, Ruby, and Jaune have been working together to solve the mystery of Hope’s Peak Academy, Monokuma, and what happened to them. In their investigation, the group discovers that a “great disaster” happened to Remnant and that it somehow involves Monokuma.

There is no motivation this round once again. However, someone still ends up dead. The unlucky student this time around is...Nora Valkyrie. Ren is especially angered by this since Nora was his best friend/the person he was technically “together-together” with. During the investigation, Ruby is troubled by the fact that the evidence she’s been collecting doesn’t paint a logical picture. Unlike the previous murders, Nora’s death seems...unnatural. Like it shouldn’t have happened.

The class trial for this case is arguably the toughest of the 6 trials. Nothing seems to go anywhere and, despite the breakthroughs made by Ruby, none of the evidence adds up to anything. Ruby then starts to suspect something about this trial; what if this trial is rigged?

Ruby’s suspicions are somewhat confirmed when the group starts honing in on Blake and herself. Ren and Velvet accuse Blake and Ruby of being aloof from the group, to which they defend themselves by saying that they have their reasons for being on their own. Ruby starts to realize that this is what Monokuma wants and that Monokuma may have killed Nora himself in order to set up a case in which the only answer was either Blake or herself.

Before Ruby can bring this up, Monokuma claims that he had nothing to do with Nora’s death. Knowing that the situation is doomed and that it was between her and Blake, Ruby takes the fall by saying that she has no alibi. Blake tries to stop Ruby from taking the fall but the group overrides her arguments. Ruby is voted off and, much to Blake and Ruby’s surprise, Monokuma proclaims that the group got the right answer.

Ruby’s “execution”: Ruby is taken to an angry crowd where she’s laid down on a tree stump. An executioner wielding Crescent Rose appears, preparing to decapitate her. Before he can, Jaune Arc arrives and helps Ruby escape. To ensure Ruby survives, Jaune tosses Ruby down a garbage disposal chute. He’s then stabbed through the back by the executioner, killing him instantly. However, he dies with a smile on his face, knowing that he saved Ruby.

(students eliminated: Nora Valkyrie, Jaune Arc / 5 students remaining)

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Chapter 6

Ruby wakes up in the garbage disposal, hazy but alive. As she gathers her bearings, she’s met by Blake Belladonna, who had jumped into a different garbage disposal chute to save her. Ruby and Blake make their way out of the area and back to the main lobby. When Monokuma says that Ruby has to be executed due to Jaune’s interference, Blake argues that Ruby should never have been declared guilty in the first place due to the previous trial being obviously rigged. Blake then says that they deserve a re-trial and if Ruby is declared guilty once again, then they will respect the verdict.

Monokuma reluctantly agrees to this, leading to Ruby and Blake realizing that Monokuma is purely observing their actions. He won’t actually involve himself in their deaths and actively encourages them to solve the murders on their own. It was almost as if he wanted them to solve their problems themselves.

Ruby, Blake, Ren, Sun, and Velvet reconnect and, after squashing any previous feelings of distrust, agree to work together to solve Nora’s murder once and for all. In the class trial, the group hits all the same snags they hit in Chapter 5. However, this time, the group approaches the situation as if Nora’s death was rigged. That’s when Ruby realizes that they need to figure out how Nora even died in the first place.

When Ruby digs further into the evidence, Ruby realizes that Nora’s death was purely a freak occurrence. Turns out, she suffered a random brain aneurysm that had nothing to do with any of the investigations. After making this clear, the group discussion turns to who arranged her body to make it seem like she was murdered.

After confirming that none of the group was involved in arranging Nora’s body (including Jaune), Ruby points to Monokuma as being responsible. Monokuma once again declares he had nothing to do with Nora’s death, to which Ruby points out a loophole; Monokuma DIDN’T kill Nora, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t arrange the scene afterwards. Ruby then points out that Monokuma used Nora’s sudden death to his advantage to get the group to turn against herself and Blake.

With his act exposed, Monokuma decides to reveal himself. And it turns out that Monokuma this whole time was...Ozpin. Just then, the rest of Hope’s Peak Academy’s staff and students (who are really just the Beacon Academy staff) enter the trial room and congratulate the surviving students. Even the students’ families are there to cheer them on.

The students are shocked when they hear the explanation behind Hope’s Peak Academy. Ozpin reveals that the entire mystery of Hope’s Peak Academy was just a set-up for the real experiment. This entire process, the true purpose of the killing game, was to weed out the weak students. He says that, due to the coming of the dark lord known as “Salem”, they needed Huntsmen and Huntresses who could survive the harshest of challenges. So, Ozpin and the rest of the Hope’s Peak staff devised the “Danganronpa experiment”. They would torture the potential students mentally and physically and those who were able to figure out Monokuma’s identity and survive the challenges would be fit to graduate to the second-level of Huntsman and Huntress training in Hope’s Peak.

Ruby is horrified by this revelation. When she says that her family wouldn’t have approved of this, that’s when she sees that Qrow Branwen and Taiyang Xiao Long are in the room as well. They congratulate her on surviving “Danganronpa”, saying that she has what it takes to be a Huntress. They then reveal that they also survived a version of “Danganronpa”, which further shocks Ruby since they never told her about their experiences in Hope’s Peak. The game ends on that bittersweet note.

Survivors: Ruby Rose, Blake Belladonna, Lie Ren, Sun Wukong, Velvet Scarlatina

#rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #pyrrha nikos #lie ren #sun wukong #scarlet david #sage ayana #neptune vasilias #coco adel #fox alistair #velvet scarlatina #yatsuhashi daichi #danganronpa

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sweetiepie08 · 4 years

Text

RebelZ Chapter 6

Invader Zim fanfic

While analyzing Zim’s PAK for weaknesses, Tak discovers strange coding that sends her on a search for answers. The clues lead her to uncover a conspiracy that governs all of Irken society. When the truth sends her on the run, she has no choice but to return to the one place the Tallest would never willingly go: Urth.

Meanwhile, Dib has noticed odd changes in Zim’s behavior. Has the invader simply grown bored of his mission over the last few years, or is there something more interesting going on?

People who asked to be tagged: @incorrect-invader-zim , @messinwitheddie, @reblogstupids, @cate-r-gunn, @agentpinerulesall

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list feel free to message me. Also, if you’re on the tag list and you changed your name, please just let me know.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10.

[-]

Dib flipped through the streaming services, looking for something to watch. The documentary had ended, pizza had been eaten, and Gaz had gone upstairs to fix some emergency with one of her online gaming groups. He knew he had surveillance tapes waiting for him on his desk, (or worse, college applications) but he wasn’t ready to check up on them just yet. He was actually enjoying some downtime for once, and he didn’t want it to end.

Then, he heard the all-too-familiar sounds of an alien spaceship landing outside.

Nope, he thought as he hit play on whatever show he landed on. Didn’t matter what, so long as he could pretend he couldn’t hear what was going on in his driveway.

Some muffled arguing came from the front door, followed by the bell ringing. Dib turned up the volume. Not getting out of this chair.

Loud pounding began, accompanied by cries of “Dib-human! Open this door!” Dib turned the volume up as loud as it would go as the pounding continued.

“Jesus Christ, Dib!” Gaz shouted from upstairs. “Just answer the door!”

“Fine!” Dib shut off the tv and stalked to the front door. When he opened it, he found two Irken idiots.

Zim and Tak hung off each other and drank from plastic bottles while their robot pets bolted right in and made themselves at home. “Hey, you grew into your head,” Tak said, lazily pointing her claw at him.

“You know, Dib, there’s a lot of reasons to hate your planet,” Zim slurred, letting himself in. “You keep chihuahuas as pets, some of you refuse to inoculate against deadly diseases, and that Game of Thrones finale was garbage! But at least you don’t need identification to buy gingzor, and that almost makes up for it.” Zim punctuated his short rant by taking a long swig from his bottle.

“And look,” Tak said, pulling a box of ginger snaps out of a plastic shopping bag, “they had edibles.”

“Are you guys drunk? What is this?” Dib grabbed the bottle out of Zim’s hands. He checked the label, gave it a sniff, and took a small taste. Yup, it was exactly what the label said it was. “This is just ginger ale.”

“Eee-yup,” Zim said, swiping his bottle back. “Your light brews aren’t as potent as the ones we’ve got on Irk, but it gets the job done.”

“Wait, are you guys seriously telling me your species gets drunk off ginger?”

“Why?” Tak asked, shoving a cookie in her mouth. “What do humans consume when they want to forget the futility of existence?”

“Uh, alcohol, usually.”

The two Irkens locked eyes, then burst into laughter. “Seriously?” Tak squealed, wiping a tear from her eye. “That’s an antiseptic.”

“Humans really are stupid,” Zim agreed.

“Not that kind,” Dib grumbled, knowing he would be ignored. Then he felt his temper boil. “What are you two doing in my house?!”

“Oh yeah,” the two brushed past him and hopped on the couch like they owned the place. “We need to crash here for a while,” Zim explained. He turned on the tv, got blasted by an old episode of The Office, then turned the volume down.

“Why?”

“We uncovered a conspiracy behind the Irken empire and our government tried to kill us.”

“I discovered,” Tak corrected. “They just caught you harboring me.”

“Eh, details.”

“The point is,” Tak went on, “we’re both marked as traitors and we need to lay low for a while.”

Dib could have sworn his ears perked like a dog’s. An intergalactic conspiracy? There was a story here so juicy he could almost taste it. Still, as he watched the earth’s total Irken population spill ginger ale on the couch and grind crumbs into the cushions, the only question on his mind was, “why here?”

“Need your lab,” Zim tossed off as if it should have been obvious.

“So? Why don’t you go back to your base and use your own lab?”

“Can’t.” Zim took a teal cube out of his pocket and tossed it in Dib’s direction.

Dib caught it and brought it up to his eye to inspect. “What’s this?”

“My base.”

“Your whole base is in this?” Dib strained his eyes, looking at the cube. “What’s going on? How did this even happen?”

“How far back in Irken history do you want to go?” Tak asked, popping open a bottle.

“Wait, you mean you’re actually going to tell me?”

She gave a non-committal shrug. “Eh…”

“Hold on, wait right there.” Dib zipped upstairs to his room, grabbed a notebook, pen, and recorder, then zipped back down. He grabbed a chair, hit record, and poised his pen. “Let’s start at the beginning.”

[-]

Dib scribbled furiously, trying to keep up with Tak’s slurred ramblings. Zim interjected occasionally to add something or explain an Irken concept, but it was clear exactly who the conspiracy hunter was.

“So, anyway, that’s when I realized this parasite has been controlling our entire society for generations and, you know, it’s just a real buzzkill to find out you’re basically living food.”

“I see,” Dib said, making a note to ask about this library planet later (maybe get coordinates?). “And this parasite has been masquerading as the Control Brains.”

“Not ‘masquerading’ exactly,” she explained. “They always were the Control Brains.”

“And, just to make sure I got this, the Control brains are what, again?”

Before they could answer, he heard a loud “eh-he-eh-hm.” He looked over to see Gaz standing in the kitchen doorway. When he met her eyes, she curled one finger, ominously beckoning him over. “Uh, one second, guys.” He put down his pen and followed Gaz into the kitchen.

“Make this quick, Gaz,” he said, peaking back into the living room. “These two are giving me everything.”

“Okay then,” she said, her voice displaying her irritation. “Just answer me this: why are there two destructive aliens drinking like civil war amputee patients on our couch?”

“Revealing their government’s secrets, that’s what,” he answered with unbridled glee. “Turns out, ginger gets them drunk and when they’re drunk, they have no filter. They’ve been rambling on and on about their creepy big-brother-like society for an hour now. Look at all these notes.” He shoved the notebook in Gaz’s face and flipped furiously through the pages. “As long as I keep them drunk and happy, they’ll keep talking. Which reminds me…” He took out his wallet, grabbed a bill, and handed it to Gaz. “Go to the store and buy them out of ginger ale. We can’t let them sober up.”

“Five bucks?” Gaz said, wrinkling her nose. “I assume you’re planning on reimbursing me for the grocery bill later.”

“This isn’t about money, Gaz.”

“Then dig a little deeper, Scrooge. I know your part-time at Dad’s lab pays more than this.”

“And you make plenty off of your twitch gaming streams,” Dib argued. “Come on, this is about furthering human knowledge.”

Gaz raised her eyebrow in her ‘you’ve got to be kidding’ way. “You’re offering me $5 to drop everything, go to the store, and buy out their entire supply of ginger ale without reimbursing me for the bill.”

“Uh…yes?”

She scoffed. “Get a pulse.”

Dib pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed the corners of his eyes. Was she seriously arguing with him about money at a time like this? “Look, what if I give you an acknowledgement when I publish this baby? Like, say, in the forward?”

“You mean the part no one reads?”

“Uh…”

Gaz let out an exasperated huff and looked into the living room at the two Irkens. “So, they’ll really ramble on and on if you stuff them full of ginger, huh? About anything?”

“Yeah, pretty much. We managed to stay on topic so far. I mean, Zim did go on a tangent about the Game of Thrones finale, but we got back on track.”

Gaz smiled. “Did he, now? About what?”

“Something about Westeros crumbling as soon as the credits rolled. I don’t know. You watched that show, not me.”

“Hmm…” Gaz murmured, looking pointedly at Zim. Oh no, she was thinking… Worse! She was plotting!

“Gaz? What are you doing?”

She threw him a wicked smirk and sauntered into the living room. “Hey, Zim!” she called, clear as a bell. “That Game of Thrones finale sucked, right?”

“Don’t even get me started, Dib-sister!” Zim called back, slapping his hand on the couch. “Zim has never seen such a staggering drop in quality!”

Dib dropped his face into his hands. Was it too late to offer a twenty?”

[-]

“I guarantee Dorne and the Iron Islands rebelled as soon as they stepped out of the Dragon Pit.” Zim said, splashing ginger ale on the couch with every gesture. “I’ll bet they only voted ‘yes’ on Bran because this would be the easiest reign to overthrow.”

“Exactly!” Gaz said, slapping the arm of her chair. “Dany promised Yara independence two seasons ago. There’s no way she’s just going to watch him hand his sister a kingdom and not demand what’s owed to her.”

Dib twisted the notebook in his hands as he listened to them rant. They’d been at this since Gaz brought up the subject.

“And what was with them acting like Dany was in the wrong for executing Varys?” Zim added. “He tried to assassinate her!”

“As if Jon didn’t execute a child a few seasons ago for the same thing. And it was obvious that kid was coerced into it by the higher-ranking Night’s Watch men.” Gaz said. “You’ll notice Dany didn’t execute the child Varys manipulated into poisoning her. And he only thought she was ‘mad’ because she stopped listening to his shitty advice.”

“Their ‘advice’ lost her the Dornish forces, the Iron Fleet, and Highgarden’s armies,” Zim agreed.

“Plus another dragon and her best friend. And when she goes into mourning, he’s all ‘Welp, she’s clearly gone mad. Time to put her down like Old Yeller.’ Oh! And what was with Tyrion’s ‘everywhere she goes, evil men die’ speech? Like that’s a bad thing? Yeah, I know. That’s why I liked her.”

“You know wat she should have done?” Zim said. “She should have flown her three dragons to the Red Keep like she wanted to do last season. She could have taken the city with fewer casualties.”

Gaz nodded in agreement. “Maybe even no casualties if King’s Landing surrenders immediately.”

“Then she’d have all three dragons and all the armies in the Seven Kingdoms to fight the White Walkers with!” Zim added.

“Yeah, then maybe there’d be enough time to make the army of the dead live up to the hype! Nice Long Night. Lasted about six hours.”

“What is this show?” Tak asked. “I want to watch.”

“Enough!” Dib burst, jumping out of his seat. “Enough Game of Thrones! If you want to keep complaining, go on the internet and do it! Now can we please get back to you two spilling the secrets of your evil intergalactic empire!”

“There are no more secrets, human,” Tak snapped. “We’ve told all. The only other information I could find is on this.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a square, plastic information drive. “But this technology is too outdated to decode. So, unless you have access to an ancient computer…”

Dib took the square and held it up to his eyes. “This just looks like a floppy disc.”

“Really, Dib-beast?” Zim scoffed. “Your planet’s technology is antiquated, but it’s not that archaic.”

“Actually, that’s pretty outdated for us too,” Gaz said, “but our dad’s got a computer graveyard in the attic. Maybe we can get one of those to work.”

Tak regarded the disc suspiciously. “You’re serious? You think you might be able to get it to work.”

“It could be possible,” Dib answered, eyeballing the disc. It looked about the right size and shape. It may at least fit into the disc drive. “It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve gotten Irken and Earth technology to work together. It’s worth a shot.”

[-]

After about an hour and a few trips to the attic, they found an old monitor and hard drive they managed to turn on. As the computer booted up, they compared the Irken disc drive to a standard floppy disc. Dib was right. They seemed to match up.

“You really think this has a shot?” Tak asked again. She looked skeptical they whole time the were getting set up, but as the computer whirred to life, Dib thought he could detect a hint of hope in her voice.

“It could,” Gaz answered. “If the magnetic polarity is the same as we use on earth, the computer might be able to read the disc.”

Dib nodded along. While he was good with technology, his area of expertise was more on the engineering side. Gaz was the one with an affinity for coding.

Once the computer was ready, they popped in the drive. They all gathered around the monitor and held their breath. A buffering window popped up on the screen and they let out a collective gasp.

After a few minutes, the picture went black and green Irken text scrolled up across the screen, accompanied by, what sounded to Dib, like a series of chirps, clicks, and hisses. “Um, is it supposed to be making that-”

Tak and Zim threw a sharp hiss in his direction, then went back to staring intently at the screen. When Dib quieted and listened harder, he realized the sounds came from an organic voice and had a deliberate pattern. Holy shit, it’s reading the text! This is their language!

The voice stopped and the screen froze on another set of Irken symbols.

“Oh, my…” Zim choked out, eyes still glued to the screen. “We’ve got to write that down!”

“MiMi,” Tak commanded, “my tablet.”

“Wait, what was that?” Dib asked as he watched the two aliens scramble to scribble down the symbols on the screen. “Was that guy speaking Irken? What did they say?”

“Yes,” Zim answered. “And those are coordinates to the next place we need to go.”

“You mean, I need to go,” Tak cut in. “I’m the one who uncovered the conspiracy, remember?”

Zim scowled and stomped up to her, getting in her face. “You made this my problem when you crashed at my house, drank all my gingzor, and got my base cubified.”

“Why would I ever team up with you?” she shot back.

“I’m every bit as Irken as you are,” Zim argued. “I deserve answers as much as you.”

“Will someone please tell me what that thing said?” Dib shouted. The two stopped their bickering long enough to cast him an icy stare.

“Well,” Dib growled impatiently. If these two thought they were going to force their way into his home, spill ginger ale on his couch, tell him about an intergalactic conspiracy, and not let him in on the details, they had another thing coming.

“This doesn’t concern you, human,” Zim snapped.

“You two waltzed in here expecting me to hide you form your creepy totalitarian government and let you use my lab. Unless you want me to throw you out on your ass…”

“Fine, fine,” Tak said, waving an arm dismissively. “That voice claimed to be Krislotch. He confirmed that he left the clues that lead me to discover the truth about the Control Brains. He also claims more information is waiting on a planet at those coordinates. I must go there next if I want to solve this mystery.”

“We must go there,” Zim but in.

“This is my conspiracy, Zim,” Tak growled, turning back to him. “If there are more answered waiting on that planet, I will be the one to find them.”

“Oh yeah?” he said with a smirk. “How you gonna get there? I’m the only one with a working ship.”

“Dib’s got a ship,” Gaz chimed in. She turned to Tak. “Actually, I think it’s your ship.”

“You!” Before Dib could say anything, Tak had already jumped on the coffee table and grabbed his collar. “You have my ship?!”

“Uhh…”

“Take me to her!”

[-]

“wha-wha…WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”

They group stood in the garage and stared at the collection of barely-held-together parts, also known as Tak’s ship. Dib had to admit, his last few forays into space hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing.

“It doesn’t look like this all the time,” he tried explaining. “I’ve gotten it to work. But, you know, sometimes things happen… and when they happen, I have to convince the ship to let me fix it again.”

“And why is she blue?”

“Um… I like blue?”

“Stupid human!” Tak spat, rushing up to her ship. “You have no idea what you’ve been toying with!”

“Fine,” Dib grumbled under his breath. “Only repaired it multiple times of the last six years but whatever…”

“Ship,” Tak commanded, laying a hand on the ship’s windshield. “Respond.”

“Biosignature detected,” the ship said as it began to light up. “You are Tak.”

“Yes, yes, ship! It’s me!” she cried. Dib could almost swear there were tears in her eyes.

“Hmpf, what took you so long?”

Tak looked taken aback. “I was, uh, had a lot going on, you know? Schemes and such?”

“And you never once thought to check in on your ship?”

“When I have to eject, I thought I’d lost you forever,” Tak explained, pressing both hands on the windshield. “I never wanted to leave you behind, but I’m here now. I can take you back.”

“Hey, wait a minute…” Dib protested. He started forward, but Gaz pulled him back.

“It’s her ship, dummy.”

“And how exactly did you get here?” Ship went on.

Tak hesitated. “Well, I…”

“I knew it,” Ship huffed. “You have a new ship now, don’t you?”

“It’s not like that,” Tak insisted. “Yes, I needed a new ship to get around, but I swear, it was a simple matter of transport. That ship means nothing to me. I would trade every other ship in the universe for you.”

The ship went quiet, as if thinking it over. Dib found himself oddly captivated, like when he’d accidently get sucked into his grandmother’s soap operas. He quickly shook himself out of it. This is ridiculous. She’s talking to a ship.

“I don’t know what to believe,” Ship finally said.

“I promise, Ship, I will fix you myself and, after that, I will never even look at another ship again.” She gently caressed its side and the engines purred.

“I will allow you to repair me, for now. After that, perhaps I can allow you to pilot me again, in time.”

Tak smiled and continued to pet her ship while it continued to purr. The scene was almost sweet until Zim decided to break it up.

“Well, well, well,” Zim said, a smug smile on his face, “looks like I’m the only one here with an operational ship.”

Tak only hissed in response.

“So, I guess I’ll be taking those coordinates and be on my way,” he continued, “unless someone wants to grovel for the chance to accompany me.”

Tak stomped up to Zim and unleashed a cavalcade of Irken at him. Dib wasn’t sure what she said, but if cricket/bat/snake could cuss someone out, he imagined it’d sound something like that.

“Okay,” Zim squeaked out, looking up at Tak who now towered over him. “I suppose I could let you come, but only because you asked so nicely.”

“I’m coming too,” Dib declared.

Tak and Zim both turned to him with questioning looks on their faces. “Uh, what?” Zim said.

“I’m coming. I want to see what’s on that planet, too.”

“This doesn’t concern you, human,” Tak spat.

“Excuse me? Who’s house are you two crashing at? Who’s ancient computer did you use to get those coordinates? And who’s been keeping your ship running while you’ve been got?”

“We don’t need-” Zim started, but Dib cut him off.

“Yes you do,” he shot back. “You need my lab to get your base working again. You said so yourself. And Tak, you need my garage and my tools if you’re going to fix your ship. If you want to stay here and use my equipment, to fix your stuff, you need to let me in on the conspiracy.”

The two Irkens looked at each other intently, as if holding a telepathic conversation. Dib briefly wondered if they could communicate semi-telepathically, or at least through pheromones. They did have antenna after all.

Finally, they broke their stare down and turned back to Dib. “Fine, the Dib can come,” Zim conceded.

Dib felt a jolt of excitement jump through his body. “Yeah, Gaz and I-”

“Nope,” Gaz said, turning on her heals and heading back inside.

Okay, so no Gaz. Aw well, he could at least count on her to cover for him while he’s gone. “I will get my space travel equipment and be ready to leave within the hour.”

“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Zim said, and he and Tak headed back inside as well. Dib went further into the garage and began preparing the things he’s need for the trip.

“You’re seriously going to let him come along?” Tak asked as they walked away.

“Eh,” Zim said with a shrug. “If the Dib-worm wants to come to a dead planet where total species-wide genocide took place, let him.”

Dib let the helmet he’d been holding clang to the floor. “Wait, what?”

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dream-girls-evil · 4 years

Note

Title ask meme: "The Press Briefing" AHS or CAOS?

So the very first thing my mind went to was Miranda Otto’s press brief scene as Rebecca Ingram from 24. And I thought “bodyguard AU where Zelda’s a rising politician and Lilith is an FBI agent assigned to protect and investigate her after an attempt is made on her life during a press briefing” and I’ve already developed a whole plot where they find out the man behind it is actually her husband, Faustus, who is jealous of Zelda’s success...

But then I realized I was getting distracted from the title, so I backtracked, and the new idea is that Zelda is a journalist covering Lilith’s very public criminal trial, and through the press briefings they develop a rapport because Lilith likes the questions Zelda asks, and Zelda thinks there’s more to the story. Eventually Lilith grants her an interview, and something she says prompts Zelda to dig deeper and start uncovering the truth, which leads her to be targeted by the people Lilith is being forced to take the fall for.

...I really could have just said a one-shot where society figure Lilith takes an interest in journalist Zelda after a press briefing and invites her to coffee. WHOOPS, instead there was plot.

But also bonus AHS idea because it’s so much simpler and more natural and doesn’t require epic plot: Shelby and Audrey go public about their relationship. Actually, the journalist/coffee date thing would be cute for them, too.

send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it

#doing this game was a terible idea because im the LAST person on earh who needs more wip ideas #might write one of these but which one #the second one kinda turned out like an au version of the mafia au im writing? huh #v similar dynamics #caos #tomorrownevercame #zelda spellman #lilith #caos lilith #zelith #madam spellman #american horror story #ahs roanoke #shaudrey #shelby miller #audrey tindall

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featherymalignancy · 5 years

Photo

Like a Lonely House, Part V

Omg, can’t believe it, finally here after so many months away from this story. Please not that this chapter was such a beast in part because it actually turned out I’d written two chapters instead of one. Be on the lookout for Part VI of Like a Lonely House in the next 24 hours.

Like a Lonely House: A Nessian Story Of Betrayal and Redemption

"so I wait for you like a lonely house

till you will see me again and live in me.

Till then my windows ache.”

-Pablo Neruda

Warning: NSFW for language, mild violence and smut. This story is not ACOFAS complaint, but it will borrow elements from the story. oh, also tons of angst.

Synopsis: Fifty years after the Hybernian War, Prythian is finally at peace. For Cassian and Nesta, anamosity has turned to something more amorous, and they stand on a precipice of something that scares and excites them both. However, it only takes one night of weakness on Cassian’s part to change everything, and with a young Illyrian prince gaining power in the North, Nesta agrees to an marriage alliance, both to protect her family and get her as far away from Cassian as possible. As things unravel between them, Cassian begins to suspect there is something more deliberate seeking to keep them apart, and he struggles to uncover the truth and win Nesta back before it’s too late.

If you’re new to the story, please click HERE for the masterlist.

If you need a refresher on the story thus far, click HERE for a recap.

TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter has brief allusions to sexual assault and PTSD. Please be advised.

PART V

Nesta fell back against the pillows, sighing as Cassian’s lips trailed along her jaw and down her neck.

She threaded her fingers into his dark hair, pulling him more fully in top of her.

Yes, her body sang. More. More.

“Cassian,” she breathed, and she felt him melting into her touch.

The warm, solid weight of his body was like an anchor, tethering her to reality when she otherwise might have been lost entirely to her bliss.

“Say that again,” he begged, his calloused hand sliding past her knee to part her legs. “Please.”

She repeated his name, her fingers digging into the muscles of his back. When she touched his wings for the first time, he swore, and she felt his body’s reaction pressing against her thigh.

She burned for him, so badly it almost hurt.

“Please,” she said, shifting beneath him. “Please.”

She’d never said that to a male before, not in bed or anywhere else. Had never felt comfortable ceding that much power.

With Cassian, though, she would give him anything. Knew she could, that she was safe to, because he would give her anything she asked for in return. He was hers, and she was his, and for the first time since she’d been made—perhaps the first time in her life—she knew she was exactly where she was meant to be.

“Te cакам,” Cassian breathed, kissing her deeply, fingers tangled in her unbound hair. “minu südame süda.”

Nesta’s back arched as he pushed into her, tears of joy springing to her eyes at knowing that after so many years of pain and yearning, they’d finally found their way into each other’s arms.

He swore when he’d seated himself to the hilt before intertwining their fingers and bringing their joined hands over her head. She writhed in pleasure, his body so close she could hear his heart beating in his chest.

She turned her head to offer him her neck, a gesture of primal submission she knew he craved. He laved the swath of skin just below her jaw, the one he first kissed in her father’s house all those years ago.

“Cassian,” she breathed, turning her face so she could—

She stiffened, breath choking off into a panicked gasp.

It was no longer Cassian inside her. It was Adan, and he gave her a satisfied male smile as her gripped her hips and pulled himself deeper.

“I told you I could make it good for you,” he whispered, breath heating her skin as his teeth raked the pointed tip of her ear. “I told you you’d be mine.”

Nesta suddenly felt like she was drowning, and she struggled to extricate herself from his grip. Adan’s hands only tightened on her wrists in response as he thrust harder, enough to hurt.

“You’re mine, Nesta,” he told her, hip slamming into hers. “Mine, mine—“

Nesta woke with a start, cold sweat sliding down her spine.

A dream, she realized.

Just a dream, and one she had nothing to fear from. Adan had promised he wouldn’t force her, and she had no reason not to believe him. And Cassian—

She didn’t want to dwell on what that had meant.

Nothing, her pride reprimanded.

Even still, she found her core still pounding from the memory of having him inside her, and when she made to pull down her rumpled nightgown, she found her thighs slick with arousal.

Cheeks flaming, she snapped her legs shut, willing the feeling away entirely. Sex was sex, she assured herself, and she hadn’t been lying to Amren when she’d said Cassian had been an excellent lover.

It was natural reaction, a—bodily urge that had nothing to do with Cassian himself.

Still, she could hear his voice in her mind even now.

Te cакам.

She hadn’t dared ask what it meant when he’d said it, afraid of the disappointment it could cause if her suspicion was incorrect. It wasn’t until weeks later when she’d heard Azriel murmur it to Elain that she learned she’d been right.

I love you.

Nesta felt her throat tightening. It was just another of Cassian’s lies. If he had loved her, he would have never done as he had. If he’d loved her, she wouldn’t even be here. Maybe one day, when she and Adan were married and there was peace in Illyria, she would thank him for it. Today, however, she found herself hating and missing him more than ever.

“My lady?” A cool voice called from the shadows. “Your bath is ready.”

Nesta rose on unsteady feet, nodding her thanks to Nuala as she passed the wraith before shedding her gown and accepting Cerridwen’s hand as she lowered herself into the tub.

Most days, she hardly had to think about it anymore, but today she found her pulse beginning to quicken as the water lapped her calves. Her ears rang with Elain’s sobs and Feyre’ desperate screaming as she forced herself to sit down. Though the water in the tub was warm, she could still feel the artic bite of the cauldron hissing against her skin.

She took a shuddering breath, feeling herself beginning to unravel before two cool hands fell on her shoulders.

“You are safe, my lady.”

Nesta took another shaky breath.

“I can’t go under,” she said quietly. “Not today.”

She felt more than saw as Cerridwen nodded.

“There is no need, my lady.”

Nesta tipped her head back as Cerridwen gently twisted her hair, pulling its mass up and securing it with two large pins.

“Thank you,” Nesta croaked, and Cerridwen smiled, retreating to the corner of the bathing room to keep silent vigil.

Nests forced her shoulders to relax as she bathed herself with an warrior’s brutal efficiency, not wanting to be in the water any longer than she had to.

When she was done, she wrapped herself in the soft robe Cerridwen had offered her, heading back into the bedroom to find a fresh gown waiting on the made bed.

Nesta studied it as the twins helped her into her underclothes. If her gown from their first evening in Macar was meant to represent the Illyrian fashion, this one spoke very deliberately to the lavish taste of the High Lord’s court.

The gown itself was made of midnight blue silk, the fitted sleeves sitting off the shoulders and the front dipping low enough to reveal the jeweled bodice underneath.

It was more cage that corset, the cups studded with sapphires and peridot gems that jutted elegantly above the neckline. It was brutal and beautiful, and though Nesta hated to admit it, it was a perfect choice for the day’s proceeding. It made her look both a courtier and a warrior, and she knew the gown’s coloring would make her eyes the blue of a storm-ridden sea.

When she’d arrived last week, she’d been an Illyrian bride; today was she was woman who’d torn the King of Hybern’s head from his shoulders even as he drew his last breaths.

When the twins had fastened the corset around Nesta’s waist—it’s weight enough to dig into her hips—and pulled the gown over, they sat her at the vanity so they could weave Cassian’s јатаган into her otherwise unbound hair.

She thought to protest, not wanted to validate his giving it to her even though he wasn’t there to see it. Still, she couldn’t deny she felt more settled having it on her person. Perhaps when they were formally engaged, she would ask Adan to commission her one instead.

The wraiths were still arranging her curls when someone knocked on her door.

“Who is it?” she called, accepting a pair of diamond and sapphire pearl-drop earring from Cerridwen’s outstretched palm.

“Rhys. May I come in?”

Nesta grit her teeth.

“No.”

A second later, the solid oak door rippled into darkness, and Rhysand stepped though, hands tucked into his dark trousers.

His wings had been hidden away, and the velvet jacket he wore was the very picture of courtly elegance. Nesta wondered at the facade—for thats what this was, a facade—and why he would choose to wear it here of all places. Surely if he wanted to assure Adan and the other Illyrians they could trust him, he would be better served appearing as they did. She doubted any of them would be impressed with his Swaggering Master routine; she knew she wasn’t.

He leaned against the door as he watched her rise to her feet, crushing blue eyes alight.

“I must say: you certainly look like a şezhana.”

She clenched her fists, not in the mood for whatever this was.

“What do you want, Rhysand?”

He ignored her tone, crossing to the handsome settee in the center of the room.

“Do you mind if I sit?”

She pursed her lips.

“Does it matter if I say no? We both know you intend to either way.”

He grinned, his teeth flashing in the semi-dark.

“Good point.”

He sank down with a lazy grace, crossing one lean leg over another and patting the seat beside him.

“Come join me.”

His tone remained light, but there was something more solemn limning his eyes, and she stiffened.

“What do you want, Rhysand?”

He ceded some of his frustration by rolling his eyes.

“There’s no need for theatrics; I‘d just like to talk to you for a moment.”

She debated biting back but held her tongue for Feyre’s sake. Instead she crossed the the settee, perching on the edge of a cushion.

“There,” she said, staring pointedly at the wall in front of her. “I’ve done as you asked. Now say your piece and leave me.”

“Will you look at me?”

When she ignored him, he pressed on. “Please, Nesta.”

For a second she didn’t move, at war with herself. She knew what he would say and she dreaded to hear it, if only for the temptation it would offer.

Still, the way he’d said her name—it was a tone he’d never deigned to use with her before. It was one he reserved mostly for Feyre and sometimes Elain, soft and full of reverence. To her, he’d only ever been cold and aloof, and she realized with a pang that part of her had always craved the kindness he afforded her sisters.

Finally she steeled her courage and turned to face him. When their eyes met, he seemed to soften just slightly, the sharpness in his gaze turning almost penitent.

“What?” she snapped again, and he straightened.

“Tell me what you want,” he said. “Tell me that this is what you want.”

She let out a huff.

“How many times must I say it?”

“At least once more,” he said. “Because I know you’ve told the others, but not me.”

“And what makes you so special?”

He laughed.

“Much as I know you’re loathed to admit it, I am still High Lord.”

Nesta grit her teeth, facing forward again.

“I’ve already agreed. What does it even matter now?”

“It matters,” he said. “Because if you tell me you don’t want to do this, I will find another way.”

She turned to look at him, hating the pity she saw in his eyes, hating that she could still feel Adan’s sickening weight caging her to the mattress even though it had only been a dream.

“How?”

She hadn’t meant to say it, but she couldn’t help herself. Perhaps Rhysand—with all his cunning schemes—knew something the others didn’t.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, and she felt her heart sinking into a familiar pit in her belly. “But say the word, and I will find a way.”

She pursed her lips, but he remained steady even in the face of her silent vitriol.

“I will tell you the same thing I told Feyre when she first came to me: you have the final say on how your life will be. Do not let circumstance make those choices for you.”

They were pretty words—as pretty as any she’d heard since the proposition had been made. Even still, they were just words.

“Would you do it?” She asked. “For my sister, for your brothers, would you do it?”

Rhys’s gaze shuttered a bit, but his voice was even when he spoke.

“I would do anything for them.”

“Exactly,” she said, throat tight as she turned the study the far wall again. “I failed Feyre and Elain once by doing nothing when I could have done something. I don’t intend to make that mistake again.”

Rhysand measured her reaction, brows knitting slightly.

“You asked what made me different from the others.” His throat worked as he swallowed. “I’m different because I know what you’d be sacrificing. I know what it feels like to cede your power, to bed and obey someone you don’t love.”

Feyre had never detailed what had happened to Rhysand Under the Mountain, but Nesta had heard enough to piece together the truth, and it made her feel sick.

“Adan is a good male,” she said automatically.

Better than Amarantha, at least. Rhysand only shook his head.

“I don’t care who he is. I care about you. You deserve to be happy, Nesta. You’ve earned that much, at least.”

“What does happiness matter?” She asked, voice less steady than she would have liked as she glanced down into her lap.

Rhysand touched her chin to win her gaze back, and she found with surprise she had no bite left to snap at him for it.

“It matters,” he said quietly. “It matters more than you think.”

She brushed his hand away and pushed to her feet.

“All that matters to me is my sisters. If that means my hand in marriage or my happiness, so be it.”

“Nesta—“

“Please,” she grit out. “You said it was my choice. I choose this. I choose—“

She choked on Adan’s name, knowing her heart would never choose him, no matter the many centuries she spent here as his wife.

“I choose peace,” she finished instead.

She felt more than saw Rhysand as he nodded, rising to his feet.

“So be it. I’ll tell the others.”

Her only response was to turn her back to him, meeting her own gaze in the mirror instead.

She watched him retreat in its polished reflection, but when he reached the door, he paused.

“You’re a better woman than I’ve ever given you credit for, Nesta Archeron. I’m sorry for that.”

He was gone before she could reply. Nesta sank onto the divan, her head in her hands.

Rhysand’s offer coalesced with the lingering memory of Cassian’s hands on her skin, and it took all of her iron will to keep from seeking Rhysand out and begging him to take her away from this place.

When a knock finally sounded on the door, she nearly sprang to her feet.

As always, Elain was radiant, her pale lilac gown setting off her golden hair and doe brown eyes. However, her expression was drawn by poorly-disguised concern.

She took in Nesta’s gown with a soft smile, brushing a hand down Nesta’s silk-clad arm before squeezing her hand.

“You look like a queen,” she said.

Nesta forced a smile of her own as she pressed a palm to Elain’s belly.

“And you,” she said. “are growing every day.”

Elain laughed delicately as she squeezed Nesta’s hand, her mirth slipping somewhat as they continued to study one another.

“Are you—ready?” Elain finally asked. “It’s not too late, Nes. You can still—“

“Still what?” Nesta said, gently tugging her hand from Elain’s. “Go back to Velaris and spend my days avoiding Cassian? Sit back, and watch this territory fall into war again? No, Elain. I cannot still.”

Elain nodded, her face tight.

“Forgive me.”

Nesta only nodded, squeezing Elain’s hand as Rhysand and the Shadowsinger stepped out from the darkness.

“It’s time,” Azriel said, an arm coming around Elain’s waist as he nodded at Nesta.

Regretfully, Nesta released her sister’s hand.

“Shall we?”

Nesta didn’t respond, but neither did she object when Rhysand gently gripped her by the elbow and they disappeared into smoke and chill wind.

They arrived several moments in a open-air clearing, a large council table surrounded by chairs placed in the middle.

The nearest Illyrians started when Nesta and the others appeared in their midst, but Adan only smiled, rising from his chair at the head of the table and sweeping into a small but courteous bow.

“High Lord,” he said. “Welcome.”

The other Illyrians bowed their heads as well, and Rhysand nodded in an indication they rise.

He smiled, blue eyes glittering.

“Very scenic, My Prince.”

From beside her, Nesta heard Elain give a sharp intake of breath, and Nesta turned to see what she was looking at. She stiffened herself at seeing it, even as a dark part of her was pleased.

Lazar, who stood at his cousin’s right, was barely recognizable through the brutal tapestry of bruises that covered his face.

Both eyes were black—an indication that his nose had been broken—and his lip was swollen, split by a ugly cut that even his fae strength had yet to heal.

Nesta forced herself to hold her ground as she stared down the violence of what Adan had done, but Elain shrank back a bit into Azriel, his scarred hands falling on her shoulders.

Adan tracked the movement, his smile grim as he met Elain’s eye.

“I gave you my word, My Lady. Now you know we honor our promises here.”

“Indeed,” Rhysand said. “Shall we, then? You’ll forgive me, Şehzade, but this territory doesn’t run itself.”

Adan’s gaze moved back to his High Lord, snagging for a second on the inviting neckline of Nesta’s gown as it did.

Another reason it had been chosen, she realized. To distract Adan a little, and to remind him what was on offer should he agree to Rhysand’s terms.

It made Nesta sick, even as she acknowledged it was well-measured calculation. If she was to sell her freedom, she would make sure it was bought at the highest possible price.

When they were all seated, Adan spoke first.

“I know that offers have been traded, but allow me to make it official: High Lord, with your permission—and yours, My Lady—I would like to formally propose an allegiance between the house of Demir-Maçar and the High Court of Üdomnare through a marriage between myself and the cauldron-born, Nesta Archeron.”

Rhysand’s eyes sidelong slid to Nesta, and when she didn’t move, he nodded.

“I accept the union, on the condition that you open your borders immediately, and come to the Hewn City to swear your fealty before all seven High Lords.”

Adan nodded.

“Agreed. I would also ask the High Lord that my cousin Lazar be appointed as the Macaran delegate to the Hewn City, to speak for me and my people on matters of state.”

“No.”

The word was out before Nesta could stop it, and Adan turned to her, clearly taken aback at the interruption. However, when Rhysand made no move to contradict her, she pressed on.

“You may have a delegate, of course, but it cannot be Lazar.”

Despite all Adan’s promises of peace, Nesta had lived among the fae long enough understand their power games. Adan intended for Lazar to be his spy at court, and Nesta knew he wouldn’t hesitate to use any intelligence his cousin gathered to leverage his position with Rhysand.

She may have agreed to be a Macaran bride, but her first priority would always be her sisters, and any trouble for Rhysand meant trouble for them as well. Besides, she could only imagine the havoc Lazar might cause if he chose to ally with Kier. It was a possibility Nesta knew she couldn’t risk.

“My lady, forgive me,” Adan said, touching a hand to his chest. “But that is not your decision to make.”

“No, it’s mine,” Rhysand said. “And I agree with Nesta. I warned you there were consequences for disrespecting my court; now you must face them.”

Adan stiffened a little, the only outward indication of his frustration he’d show.

“Justice has already been meted out for that...transgression, my Lord.”

“You have our punishments,” Nesta said, unwilling to back down. “We have ours. Your cousin had broken our trust, which he must earn back by remaining at my side here in Illyria. When I am satisfied, you may renegotiate. Until then, choose someone else.”

“My Lord—“

Rhysand held up a hand to silence him.

“You asked me for a şezhana; now you will listen to her.”

At this, his sapphire eyes flicked up to scan the assemblage of Macarans that Adan had brought with him to the meeting. He paused at a dark-skinned female, the only of her sex, standing directly to Adan’s left. The silver in her ears and silk band on her arm denoted her rank as a aerial commander, and it was clear the sword at her hip wasn’t for show.

“Your name, Commander?” Rhysand asked.

The woman straightened, the two amethyst syphons embedded into her breastplate gleaming dully.

“Na’afeh, My Lord.”

Rhysand considered this.

“You’re not Macaran.”

“No, My Lord. I’m from Bakkarat.”

“And yet you choose to serve here. Why?”

“I serve here at the Şezhade’s invitation, and it’s my honor to do so.”

“Very good,” Rhysand said, turning back to Adan. “May I suggest Lieutenant Na’afeh as your delegate? Her loyalty is admirable.”

Adan smiled, even has Lazar stiffened beside him at Rhysand’s veiled barb.

“An excellent suggestion, My Lord,” Adan said. “Layal?”

The woman nodded her assent, and Adan smiled again, broadly enough this time that Nesta caught a flash of pearly teeth. She wondered if he was really as content as he seemed; she was sure he wasn’t accustomed to being denied.

“Excellent,” Rhysand agreed. “If there’s nothing else—“

“There is one more thing,” Adan said. “I would like to request my lady Nesta remain here for the duration of the kihlamine.”

Nesta glanced at Rhysand for a translation.

“The betrothal period,” he explained quietly, his eyes still on Adan as he considered. “I admit it’s an odd request, Şezhade. Most couples are kept apart during their kihlamine.”

At this, Adan turned to Nesta.

“It’s true,” he told her. “But I promised you we would get to know each other better so I may show you I am an honorable male. I cannot do that if you are hundreds of miles away.”

Nesta didn’t speak, throat going instantly dry. If she agreed, she wouldn’t have to see Cassian until her wedding day. On the other hand, she’d hardly get to see her sisters before she was whisked away to Illyria for good, a realization filled her with a dreaded ache.

“It’s a generous offe, my prince, but I’m afraid it’s not one I can wholly accept. I have obligations which will need to be tended to before the wedding. Perhaps—“ Nesta glanced at Rhysand, whose face remained unreadable. “A week each month.”

Adan gave a soft frown, brows drawn up in a gesture of concern.

“I only fear it will not enough, my lady.”

“It was for me,” Rhysand said dryly.

Adan smiled at this, the concern melting to a sheepish amusement.

“Of course you’re right, My Lord. Besides, we will have a lifetime to learn one another,” he added to Nesta. “Forgive me if I am too eager.“

He smiled, and Nesta felt her heart hammering against her rib cage as she remembered what he’d said the night before. In turning down his invitation to remain throughout their engagement, had she forfeit the grace period he’d offered her? The idea made her stomach twist almost painfully.

She watched him rise, and Nesta fought not to tense as she felt the past crumbling away behind her, everything she’d been to this moment falling to darkness. Rhysand stood at Adan’s approach, and Nesta mimicked the gesture, heart in her throat.

“Then we’re agreed?”

As Adan stretched out his hand, breaching the space between their two parties, Nesta felt something dragging her momentarily away. Her thoughts immediately found Cassian where she’d buried him, deep in the memories she’d promised herself she’d forget.

She could still feel the weight of him in her arms as he laying dying in that forgotten field in Hybern, still hear the promise he’d made her.

I will find you in the next world, the next life, and we will have our time; I promise.

She’d thought when they’d both lived it had been a sign from the gods that they were fated to walk the same path. It was more painful that she could have imagined to look across to Adan now and realize she’d been wrong.

Dredging up her resolve, Nesta bought a hammer to life she’d once imagined with Cassian, landing blow after blow until it shattered into a thousand pieces. She fought not to outwardly wince as the jagged shards tore at her, and at the bond she’d done her best to ignore.

Nesta could feel Rhysand studying her in profile, marking every breath and beat of her heart.

It’s not too late, his expression told her. You can still say no.

Except it was too late, and they both knew it. Whatever future she might have had before this no longer mattered. All that mattered now was the peace Adan offered in the palm of his outstretched hand.

Nesta ignored Rhysand as he continued to study her, meeting Adan’s gaze instead.

“Yes, we’re agreed.”

Adan flashed a blinding smile as Nesta slid her hand into his. His dark hair shifted over his forehead as he bent to kiss her hand, and Nesta forced herself not to flinch as his soft lips brushed her skin.

His eyes glittered as he straightened, squeezing her hand gently before letting it drop.

“Shall we, then?”

Before Nesta could wonder what he meant, Adan gave a sharp whistle of command.

Four Illyrians appeared at the edge of the clearing with a wild stallion, wings not unlike the Illyrians’ protruding from its back.

It gave a terrible shriek, its leathery wings beating as it fought against its restraints.

Nesta stumbled back a half-step into Rhysand, too unsettled to protest when she felt the weight of his hands fall onto her shoulders to steady her.

“What is that?” She breathed.

“An asgyir,” he said quietly. “They’re native to these mountains, and more ancient than Illyrian memory. It’s said the Illyrians rode them into battle before they had wings themselves.”

Adan accepted a curved bow from Lazar, fitting an ash arrow to the strings even as he winced at its touch on his skin. The muscles in his shoulders bunched as he drew the arrow back, tracking the asgyir’s thrashing.

He let it go with a grunt, and the arrow struck true, piercing the beast through the throat amidst a shower of dark blood.

Elain turned to bury her face in Azriel’s chest, but Nesta forced herself to watch as Adan drew a hunting knife and advanced on the creature with blinding speed. In a single move he’d slit its throat, bending his head to avoid getting blood in his eyes as it cascaded over him.

The beast screamed only once before it fell the grass. Using the knife, Adan quickly cut it from stem to stern, pushing aside the entails which spilled out and reaching into its chest cavity.

Nesta fended off a gag as the smell of blood and innards filled the clearing.

“What in the Hells,” she hissed. “is going on?”

“You didn’t tell her?” Azriel murmured.

“I’m sorry,” Rhysand said, hands still resting on her shoulders, keeping her steady when she might have otherwise teetered. “I should have warned you.”

“I can’t look,” Elain said. “This is so barbaric.”

“It’s an highborn Illyrian custom for males to present their intended with the heart of a beast and the blade used to slay it,” Azriel explained.

“Why?” Nesta said.

“To prove their bravery, and that they can provide for their wife.”

Across the clearing, Adan had finally freed the asygir’s enormous heart from its chest, placing it in a waiting box. He then crossed to Nesta, who forced herself to step forward to meet him. She watched as he knelt to place the box at her feet before proffering the blade—now black with blood—up to her.

“Accept this as a token of my resolve, and reminder that I will do the same to anyone who now dares harm you. You’re people are my people and your enemies, my enemies. Where you go, I will now follow.”

Nesta willed her hands not to shake as she took the blade.

“I accept,” she said simply.

With this Adan rose to his feet, the blade trapped between them as he gathered Nesta’s hands in his own—still wet with the asgyir’s blood—and kissed her.

She tensed instinctively at the intrusion before forcing herself relax into him slightly. Oh gods, how was she ever going to be able to let him—

Rhysand gave a pointed cough from behind them, and Adan immediately stepped away, blushing a little.

“Forgive me, My Lord. I—“ he broke off to compose himself before clearing his throat and trying again. “Consider my borders officially open. I look forward to your invitation to the Hewn City for the formal kilhamine ceremony.”

Rhysand nodded, a tendril of his power wrapping around the heart box as he did. It disappeared into onyx smoke a second later, and Nesta felt some of her anxiety dissipating with it.

“I will send word with Azriel when the arrangements are made,” Rhysand continued.

Nesta could see Lazar paling under his bruises as Azriel’s frigid gaze fell on him. Rhysand flashed a cool smile.

“Perhaps you should consider sending your cousin on holiday when I do. My shadowsinger is not always as...obliging when his wife is not here to temper him.”

Adan smiled at this as well, though his gaze had shuttered a bit.

“Thank you for your council, My Lord.”

With her remaining strength, Nesta elbowed Rhysand in the ribs. If she was be here for eternity, she preferred not to spend all of her time refereeing a pissing match between her husband and her kin.

Adan’s smile widened a bit at this, and Nesta wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or bad that she’d just sided with him over Rhysand.

Rhysand, for his part, seemed unbothered by the gesture, and he merely wrapped a gentle hand around Nesta’s elbow. She could feel Adan’s iron wards falling away around them, like glass that had been turned back into sand. Any shreds of it that came to close to the shadows that both Rhysand and Azriel had summoned were instantly obliterated to an even finer grain.

“We will send word within the fortnight,” Rhysand said.

Adan nodded, dark eyes finding Nesta again and glittering.

“Until then, my princess.”

Nesta had no time to reply before they were winnowing away.

It was a short journey, no more than a few minutes, but the swirling darkness and Rhysand’s scent made her begin to feel nauseous. When she remembered the way Adan has wrenched the asgyir’s heart from his chest and the blood still left on her hands from it, she felt her stomach roil.

She swayed when they reappeared in the House of Wind’s grand foyer, wrenching her arm from Rhysand’s grip when he reached to help steady her. The jeweled dagger clattered to the marble floor, and she made no move to retrieve it.

“Nesta!”

Feyre—who’d been sitting at the base of the staircase waiting for them—sprang up at their arrival, but Nesta held up a hand to ward her off. She didn’t think she could bare to be touched.

“What happened?” Feyre asked softly.

Nesta only shook her head in response, and it was Rhysand who replied.

“We reached an agreement with Adan. He comes within the month to swear his fealty.”

Feyre’s eyes remained on her husband as they shared what Nesta could tell was a silent conversation before flicking back to her.

“Are you—“

“I’m fine,” Nesta cut her off. “But I wish to be left alone.”

“But—“

“Please Feyre,” Nesta said softly, hating herself for the defeat in her voice. “Can you never just accept me as I am?”

Feyre bit her lip, and seeing no reason to stay, Nesta swept off without a word.

Cassian trudged doggedly out of the tavern, fighting the urge to punch a hole in the oak door as he spilled into the late afternoon sun. He sat on the nearest stoop and put his head in his hands.

He’d barely slept since his revelations about the Macarans, feverish in his need to find someone who could give him answers about the mysterious dark-haired woman and who’d sent her

To his frustration, he’d only found more questions. The gnarled fae who’d been behind the bar at The Velarisian, the last place Cassian could remember being that night, swore he didn’t remember any young woman with him that evening. The barmaid had said that he had been with someone, but swore it had been the High Lady’s sister she’d seen on his arm. When Cassian had pressed her for more details she’d demurred, saying that she hadn’t been the one serving them, and that he ought to speak to her sister, who’d been the one to see to their table.

Cassian had returned the next day to question the sister, only to find she had little to add. She remembered Cassian, but next to nothing about the female he’d been with apart from the fact she’d been dark-haired and bore a passing resemblance to the High Lady’s sister. She had offered that her shift hadn’t been until later, and that Cassian and his mystery companion were already drinking together when she arrived. She suggested he speak with the fae who’d been working earlier in the evening. Perhaps she would know better.

And round and round Cassian went, chasing queries only to find they all lead nowhere. He’d even gone back to the Corona District, hoping to find the apartment he’d woken up in. Hope withered into despair as he failed to unearth any new details, either about his evening or the female he’d woken up next to.

He didn’t looked up at the sound of swishing skirts, sure he already knew who it was. Mor sank down beside him, looping an arm through his and laying her head on his shoulder.

“What is it, my love? Talk to me.”

“She didn’t know anything,” he croaked. “The inn keeper. She said the same as the others.” He paused, burying his face in his hands. “What if I’m wrong, Mor? What if I really did—“

“You’re not wrong,” Mor interrupted. “That’s why I’m here. Rita spoke with the governor of the Corona. He said there is no unmated female fitting that description in his district.”

Cassian felt his heart pounding a little harder in his chest.

“You’re sure?”

Mor’s eyes glittered with unrelenting focus.

“He said he checked every ledger and deed, spoke to all the rione’s elders. If this woman truly was from the Corona, there would be a record of her letting an apartment there.”

“It doesn’t prove the Macarans were involved,” he said, trying to temper the quaking relief thrumming in his chest.

“No,” Mor admitted. “But it means your hunch was right. Whoever this female was, she’s long gone from Velaris. Between her disappearance and your memory loss, it’s too much for mere coincidence. You were set up, Cass.”

Cassian let out a shuddering exhale, pausing his unceasingly self-recrimination for the first time in almost two months. He hadn’t willingly betrayed Nesta. If he could find a way to prove it to her in time, perhaps they’d still have a change at a future together. He felt dangerously close to breaking when Mor ran a hand down his back.

“It’s not your fault,” she breathed quietly. “Cassian, it wasn’t your fault.”

Cassian raised his head to find her gaze, which had been hammered to a bronzed ire.

“And when we find this female, I will ensure she pays for what she’s done to you.”

Cassian felt shame—previously suppressed—bubbling over him. He thought of the violation he’d felt at seeing the nail marks the female had left on his wings, and of Rhys, and how he must have felt those fifty years he was forced to serve Amarantha.

“We need to speak to Az when he returns,” Mor continued. “If anyone can hunt her down, it’s him. Besides, he’s been to the Macaran court—perhaps he will have some idea of where to begin looking.”

“But Elain—“

Mor shook her head as she squeezed his hand in reassurance.

“She’s just protecting Nesta. We will show her your innocence, and win her to our cause.”

Cassian nodded, allowing Mor to gently pet his cheek.

“I know it’s difficult, but don’t lose hope; this is far from over.”

Cassian nodded again.

“I hope you’re right.”

“I don’t deal in false promises; you know that.”

Cassian opened his mouth to thank her when a soft ripple shuddered through the city’s ward. It was subtle enough that only those who knew to look for it would notice, but Cassian knew exactly what it meant.

“They’re back,” he said, rising to his feet.

“Go to her,” Mor said. “I’ll speak to Azriel; come find us when you’re ready.”

Cassian launched into the sky without another word, pushing his wings nearly to breaking as he sped for the House of Wind. He arrived to find Feyre and Rhys in the foyer speaking in low tones, an Illyrian hunting knife, still wet with asgyir blood, lying forgotten on the marble floor.

It told him enough about what had been decided, and he felt a fear he’d rarely known coursing through him.

“Where is she?”

Feyre pursed her lips.

“She doesn’t want to see you.”

Cassian ignored this, considering. He knew all of Nesta’s haunts, and he could guess well enough where she’d be.

He started out of the room, only to have Rhys grab his arm.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.”

Cassian shook him off without a word, stalking down the staircase to the private library a level below.

He eased the door open gently, spying Nesta curled up near the window in just her shift, staring out blankly to the city. He stepped over the jeweled corset and silk gown which had been discarded on the floor, though he didn’t dare take more than a step towards her.

He could tell from the way her shoulders tightened that she’d scented him, but she didn’t bother to turn from her vigil from the window.

Cassian let the tense silence reign for a minute or two before he finally said, “do you want me to leave?”

Nesta still didn’t look at him.

“Yes.”

He tried to catch his slippery heart as it sank into his stomach, biting back the urge to fall at her feet and tell her everything. Still, he felt the lingering shame of it coiled in his gut, and he didn’t think he could bear her rebuke if she chose not to believe him.

He turned towards the go, steeling himself for having to tell Azriel his tale, and Elain, if she was willing to listen. He’d nearly reached the door when she spoke again, voice much softer now.

“Wait,” was all she said.

He did, breathless to see if she would say more. She didn’t, and he simply eased the door closed instead, standing silent vigil beside it as she opened the book which lay open in her lap.

He had no concept of time as he remained there, basking in her present even as her quiet sorrow threatening to choke him to death. At some point she began to cry, so softly that where it not for the tears he could see shining on her cheeks, he would have sworn he’d imagined it.

His instincts roared at seeing them, fury bending him to near-breaking. He ignored the burn in his muscles as he strained not to go to her. She was his to protect, and seeing her like this was unstitching his sanity one thread at a time. Still, he did not move. She hadn’t asked him to come to her or hold her or even touch her, only to stay.

So he stayed, until the sun had begun to set and Nesta had fallen asleep. It was only then he dared approach her, lifting her gently into his arms and taking her to her old room. He gently brushed her unbound hair from her face He felt his heart about to burst when he noticed his јатаган still woven into it. Gently, he eased it out, setting it on the bedside table as he forced himself to retreat.

He flew immediately to Mor’s handsome townhome across the Sidra, arriving to find Mor and Azriel waiting.

“Did you tell him?” He said by way of greeting, and Mor shook her head.

“I thought you might want to do it.”

Azriel’s face remained unreadable even as he took a step towards Cassian.

“What’s going on?”

So Cassian told him. He recounted what had happened the morning he’d woken up in the Corona in greater detail than he’d had to the courage to before, and about how sick he’d been for days after. He explained the revelation he’d made when they’d left for Macar, and the subsequent hunt for the truth that had spanned the last several days. He finished with what Mor had discovered from the governor of the Corona. Azriel said nothing as Cassian explained, sinking down onto a nearby couch and steepling his scarred fingers.

“Please,” Cassian said after a beat of silence. “Tell me you believe me.”

Azriel looked up, eyes glazed with a chilled fury that nearly shattered Cassian’s resolve.

“I do,” Azriel said finally. “I—“

He broke off, bowing his head. It was only then that Cassian realized it wasn’t him Azriel was angry with; it was himself.

“I couldn’t sleep that night,” Azriel eventually said. “The shadows kept trying to warn me that something had...fallen out of balance. When you showed up, I just assumed that it was because of you and Nesta, but I see now that it was because of this: an outsider in the city, here to weaken our court. And what she took from you...”

Azriel trailed off, shaking his head.

“Can you forgive me, brother? I was wrong to doubt you. I should have been listening more closely, should have known—“

Cassian felt himself sagging in relief.

“There’s nothing to forgive. Just tell me you will help me.”

The hatred reformed in Azriel’s eyes.

“I will find the truth, I swear.”

“And Elain?” Mor said.

Azriel stiffened slightly.

“What about her?”

“We need her help, Az. If there is anyone Nesta will listen to, it’s her. If we can’t find the proof before the betrothal ceremony, Nesta has to be made aware of what he suspect.”

Azriel considered.

“Yes,” he said finally. “I will bring her here now.”

They waited for several minutes in silence, before a soft knocking began at the parlor door.

“Mor? It’s Elain. Azriel said you weren’t feeling well. I’ve brought an herb tonic for you; may I come in?”

Cassian let out a shuddering breath, flexing his hands to dispel his nerves as Mor called, “it’s open, Love.”

Elain, who’d been rummaging in her satchel bag as she entered, trailed off at seeing their small assembly.

“What’s this?”

Elain’s eyes flicked across Cassian and Mor, hackles rising as she turned to face her husband.

“Azriel, what is this?”

Cassian stepped in to spare his friend from answering, and he could see the relief uncoiling Azriel’s tense stance.

“Please, don’t be cross with Az. I asked him to bring you here.”

Elain’s jaw clenched, still refusing to look at him directly.

“Why?”

This time it was Mor who answered.

“We think the Macarans fabricated Cassian bedding another female so Adan would be free to pursue Nesta.”

At this Elain’s head snapped up, her expression softening just around the edges.

“You have proof?”

Cassian’s throat tightened to the point of pain.

“No, but I know it’s true. Please Elain, if you could talk to Nesta, convince her to postpone the engagement until I can—“

“No,” Elain interrupted, voice razor sharp. “You broke my sister’s heart; I won’t be a pawn for you to break it a second time.”

Cassian felt as if he’d been struck in the face, and he couldn’t find the words to defend himself as Elain strode to the door. However, just as she reached the handle she turned, hurt shining in her gaze as she turned it on Azriel. “Don’t ever deceive me like that again.”

“Elain, please,” Cassian said. “Just let me explain.”

“If he’s right, m’elanned, it has a significant bearing on Nesta’s future,” Mor added. “I know you see that.”

Elain only shook her head at Cassian, ignoring Mor entirely.

“I am done with your lies and excuses. Your only proof is a delusional conviction built on nothing but your own arrogance.”

She stood heaving for a moment, looking as fierce a creature as Cassian had every seen her. However, all the fight seem to bleed from her posture as she turned to face Azriel instead.

“How can you be party to this? How can take his side over Nesta’s?”

To his credit, Azriel didn’t balk at her frigid tone, though the strain of quarreling with her was beginning to show on his face.

“There are no sides, сакана. Please, just hear him out.”

“I know how this must seem, but I’m doing this for Nesta,” Cassian said, tone a plea now. “Adan is dangerous.”

“I can’t bear to hear any more of this,” Elain said. “And you’re wrong about Adan.”

“You can’t know that,” Mor began, but Elain cut her off.

“I’ve seen it! I saw them on the wedding dais,” she went on, voice softer now. “And Nesta looked happier than she’s ever been. If you ever cared for her, you will stop this selfish madness and let her go.”

Cassian felt the color drain from his face. Knowing what he did now, the idea of Nesta actually going through with the marriage made him sick to his stomach.

“I can’t,” he croaked at last.

“Then we have nothing left to discuss,” Elain said. “I’m leaving.”

Cassia yearned to make one last plea, to try and explain—

The words dried up in his throat when Elain turned her beseeking gaze on Azriel.

“And you?” She breathed, eyes glassy now. “Will you stay or go?”

Azriel mouth fell open slightly, and Cassian could tell he was at violent war with himself. Elain seemed to sense it too, and her took a tentative step forward.

“Az,” she said quietly. “Please.”

Az’s composure melted under the hope in her expression, his brows knit in unmuted pain.

“I’m sorry. I can’t—“ he broke off, glancing down and trying to unknot the tightness his voice. “I have to stay.”

Elain’s screwed her eyes shut as she shook her head, dislodging two tears that had been tangled in her lower lashes. Cassian knew how agonizing it was to watch your female cry, and a glance in Azriel’s direction told him his brother was being rent in two by her pain.

Azriel reached for Elain as she skirted past him, his hand gently gripping her at the elbow.

“Elain—“

“Don’t touch me,” she snarled with surprising violence. Azriel gave no rebuttal, but when he was slow to respond to her directive, she broke his grip as she’d been taught and gave him a soft shove, more tears shining in her eyes.

“And find somewhere else to sleep tonight,” she breathed, turning her back to him. “I don’t want you in my bed.”

With that she left, and Azriel let out a shuddering breath before fixing Cassian with a look cold enough to burn.

“If you are lying to me about any of this, I will never forgive you.”

“He isn’t,” Mor said with conviction. “You know he isn’t.”

Azriel seemed to master himself, nodding once.

“I will speak to her. And I will send what spies I can to Macar. If this female is there, they will find her.”

Cassian nodded.

“Thank you, Az.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Azriel said solemnly, shadows gathering around him as he prepared to winnow. “My debt to you won’t be paid until the Macarans are brought to justice for what they’ve done.”

With that, he was gone.

Azriel arrived on the balcony of the cliffside villa he shared with Elain to find the bedroom dark and the bed still made.

Following the shadows’ directives, he found Elain at her dressing table brushing her honeyed hair. Their eyes met in the mirror of the vanity, and she looked away, brows drawn.

“I told you not to come home tonight,” she said quietly, setting down the brush and rising to her feet.

“I know,” Azriel said.

At this she turned to face him, tears in her eyes again.

“Then tell me, husband, that you are here to apologize and beg my forgiveness.”

He dared a step towards her, trying not to flinch when she took another in the opposite direction.

“I wish I could, my love.”

Elain turned her back to him, and it was worse than a dagger to the gut.

“Then we have nothing more to say to each other,” she said. “Please, just go.”

“Elain—“

“No!” She said, advancing to give his chest a hearty shove. “I can barely stand to look at you, which breaks my heart.”

Azriel gently gripped her arms.

“Then let’s work through this. Please, сакана, I can’t bear to see you so upset.”

She shrugged him off, eyes still blazing.

“Then you shouldn’t have taken Cassian’s side over Nesta’s! I know how you must see her, but you’re wrong. She may seem unfeeling, but deep down she has the tenderest heart of all of us. It’s why she’s held Cassian at arms length for so long. She’s loves so much more fiercely than others and it is a beautiful thing, but it’s also dangerous. It can get away and tear her to pieces if she’s not careful. What Cassian did to her broke something I’m not sure she will ever be able to mend.”

“I’m not on his side because there are no sides here. Or if there are, it is not Nesta’s and Cassian’s. I felt something was amiss that night, and Cassian has no memory of what happened, beyond being sick for days and days afterword. And in the intervening days, Adan broke fifty years of silence to promise marriage to Nesta, who was wholly unattached for the first time in half a millennia. Cassian is right; this was a deliberate attempt to remove him from the board so Adan would be free to pursue Nesta.”

Elain’s expression remained wary.

“And if he’s wrong? If he’s lying?”

“I would never speak to him again, if you asked that of me.”

Elain softened a little, eyes shining with tears again.

“I would never ask that.”

Seeing her anger melting, Azriel advanced, pressing his brow to hers.

“I know; that’s why I love you.”

“Even if you’re right,” Elain said, breaking away to settle on a nearby divan. “I can’t put Nesta through this again. I can’t break her heart a second time; it’s fragile enough as it is.”

“What other choice do we have? If Cassian’s suspicions about the Macarans is correct, Nesta could be in danger. Even if Adan means her no harm, would you really condemn her to a loveless marriage when the male she really loves remains here?”

“Of course not,” Elain said, voice slightly sharper now. “But I—she will never listen.”

“She will listen to you,” Azriel said, kneeling at her feet to take her hands. “Please Elain, will you try? For Nesta, if not for me.”

Elain considered.

“You must try and find the proof first. If you have none by the time the betrothal arrives, then I will tell her what you’ve told me. I make no promises beyond that.”

Azriel nodded, kissing her palms.

“Thank you, askim.”

“I’m not doing this for Cassian,” she said, expression guarded. “I’m doing it for Nesta.”

“I know. Thank you.”

Azriel rose to his feet, and when she made no move to stop him, he turned to the balcony again. Despite their tentative peace, it was clear her directive from earlier still stood.

His steps felt leaden as he carried his heavy heart with him, despairing at the distance he’d put between them.

As he prepared to depart, he felt her featherlight touch on his outstretched right wing, a shuddering calm going through him.

“Azriel.”

He turned, heart in his throat.

“Stay.”

He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as he returned to her outstretched arms.

“I thought you—“ he began, but she rose on her toes to kiss him gently.

“When we were wed, Feyre told me the key to a happy marriage was to never fight, and if we did fight, to make love afterwards.”

He pressed his forehead to hers

“It seems prudent advice.”

She gave him a soft smile as she extricated herself from his grip, easing the dressing gown from her shoulders to reveal she was fully naked underneath.

Azriel drank in the sight of her peaked breasts and the swell of her full belly, heart aching with desire as she settled on the bed before reaching out a hand in invitation.

“If you truly intent to sleep in this bed tonight, you must make love to me in it first.”

Azriel needed no prompting, and he quickly shed his clothes and joined her, the first glimmer of hope he’d felt in some time shining behind his closed eyes as he did as she’d commanded.

Next time on Like a Lonely House...

“I admit it was—a surprise,” Helion added, eying Nesta more openly than Thesan had.

Nesta felt the fork bending in her hand as she fought not to unravel at the unspoken question dazzling in his eyes.

“I don’t know why,” Feyre cut in mildly. “We’ve long sought a closer relationship with Illyria, given Rhys’s heritage. Why shouldn’t my sister marry an Illyrian?”

Eris laughed, clearly unmoved by the deflection.

“I don’t think that was ever in question,” he said.

Nesta turned to sneer at him, a gesture he met with a lascivious smile. “Rumor often had it, my lady, that your affections lay...slightly lower down the Illyrian social ladder.”

“Eris,” Flaviana chided, but he ignored her.

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Nesta said tightly, wondering how long she could last under this type of scrutiny.

“And yet Rhysand’s general remains absent this evening,” Tamlin pointed out, eyes the poisonous green of a snake’s skin. “Do you expect us to just ignore that? Considering the conquering army you’ve invited into our midst tomorrow, I would expect him to be here keeping order.”

When Nesta only clenched her jaw in response, Tamlin added, “Or is that a secret you’re hoping to keep from your Illyrian prince?”

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