Tumgik
#he knows all the names of her weapons and will carry extra scrolls for her
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The metallic clacking of the boots on the cold tiles echoed as the mercenary ran through the hall, leaving his doomed comrades behind. Under most circumstances, he would never have done that, he wouldn’t have even thought about it, he told himself, but these are not normal circumstances. What just carved a bloody canyon through his men was something that promised his end, and he’d always been one to know when to throw in the towel. This was one of those times. He’d get out of this, he says to himself. He always does, right? That’s his claim to fame, an escapee of the worst situations mercs have ever been in, fighting his way through unforgiving odds, collapsing facilities and even bombing runs with nary a scratch. He could get out of this! He could-
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The young woman sat before a deity. The divine manifestation of the cycle of life. A being beyond even her comprehension. Before her was a wooden table, oak, furnished, and balanced, atop which sat a scroll of parchment, terms and conditions written upon it. A contract. Servitude, and in exchange, power.
“So just sign here?”
“𝔒𝔣 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰𝔢, 𝔐𝔦𝔰𝔰. 𝔄𝔰 𝔭𝔢𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔞𝔩 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔰.”
She read over it once more. Everything upon it was in order. No fine print, no extra clauses, merely a difficult job ahead of her.
She signs her name, ‘Callie Mercury’. The scroll retreats into itself, rolling into nothing, as the pact seals.
“𝔈𝔵𝔠𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔱. 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔢𝔤𝔦𝔫 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔨 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔩𝔶.”
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SHIT! The mercenary’s weapon clatters to the floor. He sprints away from his assailant, almost tripping over himself in his haste to escape with his life. Slamming a door open and closed as he slides his way through with about as much grace as a bifurcated sloth. Sweat dripped down his forehead as his thought were cast aside by epinephrine. Fear gripped his nervous system as he jerked his limbs forwards, running as his last ditch effort.
Just run. Don’t think, just run. Fire exit. Get to the fire exit.
Run.
The clattering of the boots was accelerated, footfalls displaying his location to the entire facility. A target to be slain.
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“𝔚𝔢𝔩𝔩, 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔰 𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡. ℑ𝔫 𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔞 𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔨 𝔞𝔰 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩. 𝔙𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔫𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔨.”
“I find efficiency to be a very important trait. Is there any further work for me?”
“𝒴ℴ𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓉ℴ 𝒸ℴ𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓊ℯ ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝓅𝒶𝒸𝓉? 𝒱ℯ𝓇𝓎 𝓌ℯ𝓁𝓁. ℐ 𝒹ℴ 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝓂ℴ𝓇ℯ 𝓉𝒶𝓇ℊℯ𝓉𝓈 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓎ℴ𝓊.”
“Excellent. They will be taken care of.”
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The mercenary felt the sharp pain of the collision with the floor.
He tripped.
He crawled forwards in desperation, but the soft humming of a jovial tune and the scraping of the metal blade the aggressor carried told him he wasn’t making any progress in his retreat.
Frantically, he tried to drag himself away as quickly as possible. Panting out his haggard breaths, the mercenary slowly collapsed as the futility of his actions sunk in. Crumbling under the fear of his oblivion, he broke. Tears pouring from his eyes, he quietly weeped, the soft hums echoing within his ears and mind.
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The table lay broken in the void of their meeting room. Chairs lay thrown asunder. The God slid backwards, crawling away from the scythe of his once-servant.
He tried to formulate the words to announce his surprise and outrage, but the noises stumbled out in a mess coated in an unfamiliar emotion.
She softly hummed out her tune. Only one more target now. And she will complete her task.
The god shook in a fear commonly reserved for mortals, primal, corruptive and all-encompassing, he sputtered and stammered as she calmly walked towards him.
Three steps. His senses focus on the blade of the scythe.
Two steps. The blade is raised.
One step. A brave for the inevitable.
Zero.
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The mercenary slid down as he split cleanly in two, vertically slit with the wide blade. Blood would spurt, but the wounds had already rotted beyond repair, liquid life coagulated into a horrid sludge. The rot spreads out and covers the whole body, corrupting it into an effigy of death, rotted away into a preserved state, petrified in accelerated time. The same fate as the others. The same fate of the targets. The same fate of many more.
She continues humming her soft tune, lifting her scythe and placing it on her back once more. She walks off. Another day’s work complete. And once again, the scales balance.
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fjb-blurbs · 2 years
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Tenten: *searching around the room*
Ino: Hey Tenten, what’re you looking for?
Tenten: My will to live.
Neji: *walks into the room*
Tenten: Oh, there it is!
Ino: Aw!
Tenten: *takes scroll from Neji's pack and unseals it, revealing a fuck-off war hammer*
Tenten, cooing: Hello, my precious!
Ino: ......
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It Was Enchanting To Meet You (Edmund Pevensie x Mutant!FemReader)
Chapter III: Prophecy
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Summary: Peter explains the prophecy. Y/N and Edmund start to get to know each other more.
Masterlist
Word Count: 1644
Warnings: Mentions of possible war, Creepy suitors
A/N: Due to amount of school work that I have, this might be the only chapter I upload this week. But I will try to upload two chapters next week, I'm really sorry luvs.
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“Who?” Susan asked,
“I think you’re quite mistaken dear, I’m no professor.” Mr. Tumnus said,
Embarrassed by her little outburst, Y/N said, “I’m sorry, it’s just you have an uncanny resemblance to my professor in my world.”
“Your world?” Mr. Tumnus raised an eyebrow,
“It’s a long story, but we think she may be the young witch of the prophecy.” Peter said and Mr. Tumnus’ kind mellow face instantly changed into a surprised one.
“You must all come in, we shall talk about this over tea.” Mr. Tumnus said and let the five of them inside. They all sat down on the small dining table as Mr. Tumnus went by his stove to heat up the kettle. “Oh no, I believe I've run out of firewood” he said.
Y/N turned around and said, “Ooh I got it!” and with a flick of her fingers, the kettle starts to make a loud noise as the water boiled at its highest temperature. She turns back to the rest of them as they look at her with pure amazement.
"Where have you been all our lives?!" Lucy exclaimed and the place was filled with laughter. After preparing the tea, Mr. Tumnus sets the teapot on the table along with sugar cubes and milk, as well as an array of biscuits and turkish delights. Edmund got a hold of the plate of turkish delights and immediately started munching on it as Peter took out a huge scroll of paper from his satchel.
“Do you just carry that around with you?” Y/N asked,
“He actually does.” Edmund replied as he continued to eat turkish delights, Peter smacks his hand making the small piece of turkish delight fall off of his fingers down to the floor. "Hey!" Edmund yelled,
"Will you stop eating, I'm about to tell you the prophecy!" Peter commanded,
"Well I'm not the one with powers am i?" Edmund replied, earning him another smack but on the back of his head and the other girls giggled and Mr. Tumnus let out a light hearted laugh.
Peter cleared his throat and started to read what was on the scroll,
“A young witch shall emerge from the forest of Narnia then followed by the rise of the white witch with her endless winter once again. But the young witch shall put a forebear to the bitter cold weather and bring the white witch’s demise.”
"That's it?" Y/N asked and Peter nodded,
"Were you expecting more?" Susan asked,
"I mean the paper was so huge, I assumed there'd be a lot of writing on it..." Y/N said,
"Peter probably wrote down huge letters when Aslan told him to write down the prophecy." Edmund teased and right when Peter was about to give him a third smack, he immediately dodged it which ended up in a silly tickle fight. "Hey stop that!" Edmund yelled, his voice at a higher octave. Y/N chuckles, catching Edmund's attention, he clears his throat and repeats what he had just said but in a more lower tone, "Stop it, I said." Peter eventually gave up and they all sat down to talk about the prophecy.
"We don't know when, but the White Witch will surely come back now that Y/N's here." Peter said,
"Then what should I do?" Y/N asked,
"For now, you should stay at the castle. I will gather more people for an army in case it gets bloody." Peter replied and everyone's mood turned gloomy with the mention of the words army and bloody. It had been years since their last battle and they were successful, however they cannot deny how scary it was to go to war at such a young age.
"You don't really have to gather an army. This fight is between Y/N and the Jadis just like you said, the others shouldn't be involved besides us." Susan said,
"I know that, but I'm just taking extra precautions." Peter replied,
"Taking extra precautions or are you underestimating Y/N's capability of defeating Jadis?" Susan snapped and the air in the room felt uneasy. Peter did not reply but only stared at his sister and she looked back with a stone cold glare.
"Now, now, let's not argue. Let's just put out a vote shall we?" Mr. Tumnus suggested,
"I agree with Susan, I don't want to risk the lives of Narnians and I really do think Y/N can defeat Jadis..." Lucy said.
Everyone's eyes fell on Edmund, waiting for him to respond. "What? Oh. Well... A-as much as I think that Y/N can take down the White Witch, I just think we should gather more troops. As back up." Edmund said.
Susan rolled her eyes and looked at Y/N, "What do you think Y/N?"
Y/N didn't exactly know how to respond. She had only been in Narnia for a few hours, she may have seen a good portion of the whole kingdom, however she doesn't exactly know what was really going on. "Look, I'm fairly new to this thing and I'm not really sure how it's gonna go..." She looked at Susan with worried eyes and she understood where she was going. Though disappointed, Susan simply nodded, "I think it's better if King Peter gathered more troops." Y/N said.
"Then it's settled, I'll be leaving by sunset." Peter said,
"Right away?" Lucy asked,
"We don't really know when the White Witch will come back, and it's better to be prepared before it's too late," Peter stood up, "Thank you for the wonderful tea Mr. Tumnus, but we must head back to the castle now." Peter said.
"No worries, I'm always here if you need any help." Mr. Tumnus said, then he turned to Y/N and gave a nod as if that last bit was meant for her. Y/N smiled and nodded as well, eventually the five of them left Mr. Tumnus' cave and arrived at the castle.
– – – –
Back at the castle, Susan and Lucy were bombarded with letters from suitors. With the help of Y/N, they sat in the library writing several replies most of which are rejections. One letter was for Susan, it was from a King from a kingdom that was quite awfully far from Narnia. The letter was very poetic, Susan thought, until she realized the King was almost forty years older than her. At one point the letter got a little too inappropriate and the girls decided it wasn't even worth replying to a rejection to. Susan asked one of the maids to burn it and make sure that the King who wrote it would never send a letter again.
Eventually, Y/N grew tired of writing. "Thank you for your help, but I think Lucy and I can finish up this last one and you can go ahead and rest." Susan smiled and Y/N put the letter on top of the towering stack of letters and walked out of the library. She walked through the hallways and decided to wander around until she saw an open balcony. She went out only to be startled by Edmund who had been standing on the edge of the balcony.
"I'm sorry, I'll just go back." Y/N said making her way out,
"Wait! You can stay..." Edmund said, making Y/N awkwardly turn around and stand next to him. "So how are you liking Narnia so far?" He asked.
"It's great! The place is great, your people are great, and the way you guys rule the kingdom seems far more better than what I've seen in my world. I mean, I could actually see myself living here." Y/N replied,
"Really?" Edmund's eyes sparkled at the thought of having Y/N in Narnia for the rest of eternity, Y/N hummed in agreement. There was a moment of comfortable silence until Edmund spoke up again, "You seem to be having a lot of fun with my sisters."
"They're very lovely." Y/N replied,
"What about Peter? I suppose you think he’s the most charming king.” Edmund said in a mocking tone,
"Actually it’s quite the opposite. The first time I met him he questioned where my allegiance lies," Y/N chuckled then looked around, "He's pretty intimidating." She whispered.
"Well he does try to act intimidating but deep down inside he’s a little softy," Edmund said, "But don't tell him I said that." He said mimicking the way Y/N whispered earlier making her giggle.
“Well what about you, your highness? What’s there to know about you? Besides your love of turkish delights.” Y/N teased,
"Well, I'm actually a great swordsman if I do say so myself." Edmund said proudly,
"Ah, I also have some experience with fencing. I took classes and even briefly joined a team." Y/N said,
"Then you'll have to show me your skills sometime." Edmund replied,
"Is that an invitation for a duel?" Y/N playfully raised an eyebrow,
"Perhaps." Edmund smirked and they both laughed. However, the laughter was short lived when Peter made his presence known by loudly clearing up his throat. They both turned around to see him with both arms folded.
"Edmund, I need your help with something. Will you come with me to the weapon room?" Peter said and Edmund nodded. Before he could leave he turned to look at Y/N,
"You're still up for that duel?" He asked with a smile,
"Of course your highness, just let me know when." Y/N answered smiling back.
"You do know you can just call me Edmund, or Ed." Edmund said,
"Come on Ed!" Peter said dragging Edmund away before Y/N could even reply to him.
"Right..." Y/N said, "Edmund." She smiled to herself as the sound of his name gave her butterflies in her stomach.
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bubblyani · 4 years
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Bail Out: 05
(Bruce Wayne x Reader)
A Bruce Wayne Multi Chapter Series
Chapter 05: “No Fun”
Summary: One fateful, drunken night gets you arrested for assault.  However, once you get bailed out by Billionaire Socialite Bruce Wayne,  surprising obstacles get in the way, forcing you to question all your  choices in life, career, and in love.
Word Count: 8500+
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Swearing and Slight Violence 
Author’s Note: So glad I could finish this on time. Now I’m impatiently working on the next part. When you read it, you will know why. Thanks again for the wonderful response. Enjoy!
Chapter LIST
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The rapid sound of gunfire, infused with blood curdling screams, certainly forced your heart to beat right out of your chest. The beating, increased without any prior announcement shocked you, as if the live, blood pumping organ might literally fall out of your flesh vessel. The scene you witnessed, was never expected but only imagined in modes of fiction. Be it novels or films. However, when you truly got to taste it in the rusty reality, only then did you realize the gravity of its horror. And only then at that fateful moment, did you genuinely fear for your precious life.
Just when it seemed trouble had finally set you free.
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(A Few Days Earlier)
Allison Hughs was your quintessential fun-loving, living in the moment party girl with complete control over the pace of her existence. Apart from all that, she was also a loyal friend, blindly following you to the ends of the earth in ranting.
“SHE DID WHAT?”
Her inquiry was loud and dramatic, to which you nodded. “Yep” you replied, “She straight up went there…”
Safe to say, the ‘She’ that was being mentioned here was none other than Clara Bennett, the Consultant who slithered her way into Wayne Enterprises, solely to make exaggerated inspections on HR Operations, and to make your cooperate life a living hell, drenched with self-doubt and insecurity. It certainly traveled up a notch when she proactively invited you to take part in a Basic HR Crash Course, that was mainly designed to New Recruits. Simply because she assumed that you would find the Course ‘helpful’ to your own line of work. The fact she indirectly implied a trace of incompetence in you caused so much embarrassment.
“The hell is that bitch’s problem though?”
Allison kept inquiring, as she wiped off the milk from her lips, “Seriously…” she muttered, standing by the opened refrigerator in her pajamas.
“Yeah” you continued to nod, as you stuffed a spoonful of cereal into your mouth, “..and Lillian…being my senior since day 1, didn’t even treat me this way” you added, with a full mouth.
Already dressed for work, little did you expect to see Allison awake and engaged while you had your breakfast, “I look like a fucking joke…”you muttered, after finally gulping the food down.
“Hey!”
Allison cried, pointing her index finger at you, “Don’t you dare give up” she said with seriousness, standing before you, “You need to stand your ground and carry on with dignity…” she continued, her tone quite similar to a heroic speech, “Make Lillian proud she left you in charge…” she added, putting both hands on the table. Leaning forward, she took a closer look, “This will be good for you…” finally as her voice grew soft, she flashed a soft smile. You could not help but look at her affectionately, as you exhaled deeply.
“Talking to you makes me feel so much better…” you admitted. Pleased, Allison stood up straight.
“That’s why I’m your hype man, Sweetie!” she said, turning towards the window, “Watch out Gotham! The Bruiser is here to SLAY-”
“HEYYY!!-” your shushes exited along with your embarrassment. Your friend covered her mouth quickly.
“Sorry, Sweetie….” Allison whispered, taking the hands away, “But it just sounds so badass…” as her tone grew normal once more. You shot her a deranged look.
“Do I look like someone who deserves the name?” you inquired. “Well…” she said, folding her arms, “…the fact you punched that guy is a good enough reason…”
Shaking one’s head with a chuckle, you watched her head to the bedroom with a maniacal laughter. The sudden vibration of the table forced you to look down at your phone. The chuckling stopped, permitting your pulse to quicken with liberty. Rubbing your neck nervously, you proceeded to read the text from the only sender who was capable to send you through an emotional wild ride: Bruce Wayne.
Sorry, long night. Good Morning!
Pausing for a few seconds, you exhaled loudly as began to type:
No worries. Hope your day goes well, Mr. Wayne.
Being an appropriate response, you sent without hesitation. Long night?, could it possibly truly mean a hectic night of crime fighting and city saving in disguise? A strong urge suddenly arose to pull up the search browser on your phone, and type in the words: Batman. And what appeared first in the results certainly made your eyebrows rise with curiousity.
“Ali….” You yelled loud enough for her to hear, “You’ve heard of a website called… ‘Where’s the Bat’?
“EH?”
Her response was equally loud and echoing, “Oh yeah…” she added, whilst you opened the web page, “…Matty was talking about it sometime back…” she continued, “Some nerdy site about The Batman…”
“Damn!”
The word abruptly left your lips as your eyes widened. For you were treated to such a sight, “Ali…get this…” you said, proceeding to read the description of the page, “Welcome to ‘Where’s the Bat?’ Your Online Resource for all things Batman: Gotham’s Caped Crusader…” you squealed excitedly,  “Ha! It’s a freakin’ fan site! Oh! Oh!” you exclaimed as you continued to read out loud:
“… reliable sources from our very own admins and enthusiasts all over Gotham City…” with a whistle, you nodded, “These folks are not kidding around, huh?” you muttered, letting your finger slowly scroll down, “And they have posts on almost every appearance he made in the city…” you said out loud, yet it seemed that Allison was never interested. 
The Website backdrop was in black, but encompassing a very beautiful design concept. The immaculate detail was beyond believable. Detailed posts on possible weapons owned, vehicles, fighting styles and costume, Photos ranging from Low Quality to High, even blurry videos by camera phones, it was certainly a network of information. Your eyes widened when you saw the recent post title: 
Batman and The Bruiser?
“What the-?” Muttering to yourself, you clicked on the article.
“…also known as The Bruiser (Click Here for the Viral Clip) was spotted nearby when a group of muggers had reportedly attacked her. According to the anonymous source, Batman had arrived right on time. A clip of the incident may not be available, yet we did manage to find a small clip as he escaped the scene. And according to Gotham PD, the Caped Crusader had appeared once again to The Bruiser’s aid the night after. As much as we feel sorry for the bad luck The Bruiser attracts, we could only be nothing but envious of her opportunity to meet the Dark Knight twice. And some of us could not help but wonder: Could romance possibly be in bloom between the two?”
“What?” Nervous chuckles were all you let out as you whispered, “Hah! In your dreams, fanboys…” you uttered, closing the browser, “Batman would never go for a woman like me” you said, almost dropping the phone by its sudden vibration. For a reply was received.
You too. Stay out of trouble :)
“And you stay out of my head” you said to yourself, putting the phone back on the table. Covering your face, you could only groan with frustration. Ever since that evening at the hospital a mere week before, casual texts from Bruce Wayne began to appear on your phone, starting off on the very next day:
Couldn’t thank you for running that errand for Fox.
The errand, meaning the black box that Mr.Fox entrusted you with. A small yet long box which was quite light. The very box that granted you access to his penthouse and to the friendship with Alfred Pennyworth.
Just doing my job, Mr.Wayne.
You remember replying that day at office. It was not exactly necessary for him to thank you this way, yet his action was commendable. He did not hesitate to quickly respond:
Much appreciated.
Just when you thought it was the end, he greeted once again two days later. During an important meeting, for example:
Hi there! Is Ms.Foster enjoying the gift?
Once the meeting wrapped up, you made sure to respond :
Very much, from what I know. You’re making motherhood very easy for her.
You would be lying if you did not look forward to write him back. The manner your fingers tingled was quite evident. 
That’s a relief.
Clearly with his corresponding reply, he displayed quite an interest in conversing with you, by finding meager excuses to obtain your response. Yet, a part of you wondered what his actual intentions were. Be professional, a phrase that lingered in your head always. A warning, more like. As much as the desire to carry on the message thread was strong within, you did not reply back.
Two days passed, and surprisingly you were dying with curiousity. Could it be that his intention to communicate had finally gone? Or could it be that you were finally missing him? Forming a clever excuse to obtain his signature, you liaised with Jessica, only to find out Bruce Wayne was currently on a business trip in Singapore.
Intoxicated with impulsiveness, your thumbs grew stubborn as they formed a message on your phone:
Heard you’re in Singapore. How is it?
“Shit! Roaming Charges!”
You sighed, your palm slapped over your forehead. Putting the phone away to enjoy the view of the bus ride, you sincerely hoped he would never notice. But to your surprise, the phone vibrated instantly:
Loving the Food here.
Despite roaming charges, he was kind enough to reply. And that touched you very deeply. Then again, money was never an issue for a man of his stature. him. However, you were not Bruce Wayne. Still, a few extra dollars seemed nothing compared to the inner secretive joy you indulged in as you replied: 
Not surprised. The Bakkwa over there is to die for.
He did not reply. He did not do so for a day and two. You grew worried, if he was really knee deep in business, or literally knee deep in trouble. But the next morning, you were finally assured of his safe arrival back to Gotham, especially when you found a gift at the door. A Gift which came in the form of a beautiful red box full of Bakkwa, the Chinese sweet dried meat, one of your favorite treats. You did not miss the handwritten note inside:
You’re right. It IS to die for. - B.Wayne
Chuckling with happiness, you were only compelled to quickly text him a grateful reply:
The Bakkawa enthusiast sends her Thanks.
To which you finally received a reply this morning as you indulged on your cereal:
Sorry, long night. Good Morning!
Groaning in frustration seemed rightfully reasonable for you. Stressing out seemed rightfully reasonable as well. Who would not, when there was a storm that brewed inside of you. A storm of emotions that contained the sticky quality. The adhesiveness that was stubborn to the core. For if you look at the situation in it’s entirety, this was not your average instance of a man and woman forming a textual habit in order to know one another. You were an acting Head, informally socializing with the owner of Wayne Enterprises. Being in HR, you could already feel the weight of unprofessionalism heat on you. That guilt which already seemed to haunt you subtly. Thus, not responding further seemed logical, yet it certainly was a hard pill for you to swallow. 
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“You sure you don’t want anything? Coffee or Tea?”
You asked Officer John Blake, ushering him to his seat as you sat down. He shook his head.
“I’m good, Ma’am” he said with a smile. Smiling back, you were drenched with guilt. A week earlier, the police officer had requested to meet, yet with your unexpected work load, you reluctantly had to send him back the previous time. Forcing him to wait so long for a week was something you knew you would go to hell for. But John Blake did not judge, or as it seemed from his expression.
“Didn’t know you were running a tight ship here .” He said, looking back to witness the bustle in the main hall outside.
“Well, the Head’s on Maternity leave so…I’m stuck here, hehe…” You answered nervously, “Once again I’m so sorry Officer. You said it was something urgent?”
“It’s about the two attacks…” Blake said, capturing your attention. “Now I’m sure you’re probably wondering if those are simply coincidental or something more…”
“I honestly have been afraid to go down that rabbit hole, but yes I did wonder…” you replied. Looking sideways, he finally turned your way as his lowered his voice:
“I have reason to believe Erik Henderson may be connected to this…”
The image of the mocking man, and his bloody nose flashed before your very eyes. Given his anger, it could be a high possibility. Yet, you were in disbelief.
“What gave you the idea?” You inquired with curiousity. Blake kept his police his hat on his lap securely:
“The men who attacked you, the ones we arrested…” He said, to which you nodded in acknowledgment, “They were bailed out the very next day by-”
“-Henderson’s Legal Team?” You asked blankly, for you were still in disbelief. Blake nodded.
“I may be wrong” he said, “Bailing the people who attacked you, it could also just be a power move, maybe to scare you off…” he added, leaning forward, “So far we cannot be sure…” He continued, “But I think it’s best for you to keep an eye out-”
Your eyes suddenly darted towards the phone screen. For an email just appeared in your personal inbox with a title:
“Job Offer for General Manager”
Eyes widening, you were certainly not expecting that. Quiet for a few minutes, you found yourself staring at your own table, for you were confused beyond all measure with everything you just heard and saw.
“I’m sorry...” Blake began, shaking you from your thoughts, “ if I’m causing you any discomfort-”
“No…it’s alright” flipping the phone downward, you shook your head with a soft smile, “I just…all this was just so unexpected. Didn’t think there would be any possibility for anything like this, that’s all” you said, smiling even more, “I appreciate the information, Officer”
Truthfully, you were nothing but grateful to the man. Perhaps it was because he was the arresting officer who was in charge of that fateful night. Nevertheless, he was nothing but kind to you. Blake grinned widely.
“The Precinct still thanks The Bruiser for Common’s Coffee” He said, to which you were genuinely surprised.
“Oh! I’m glad-”
“BOSS!”
Greg’s cries forced both of you to look to the door. Distress never looked good on Greg. Giving a heavy sigh, he began:
“ I’m sorry to keep doing this but…” he said, “Clara’s gone off the rails!”
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As he made his way down the Lobby through the crowds, John Blake made his careful observations, fascinated by all that he glanced upon in the Wayne Tower. “Officer Blake!” Stopping in his tracks, John turned upon hearing a familiar voice. He smiled.
“Mr.Wayne…” He addressed,  “Didn’t expect to see you here” Smartly dressed in a pinstriped three piece suit, Bruce Wayne stood before the much younger man with a reciprocative smile.
“Well,” he began “You can’t just play hard….so…” Nodding in acknowledgment, Blake held on to his hat. With the silence between them growing longer, John began to speak:
“I’m actually just coming down after meeting one of your Senior Managers” He said, which caught Wayne’s attention.
“Who is…?”
When Blake provided him with the name, Bruce nodded nonchalantly. “Is this anything to do with the Henderson case?” He asked, suddenly growing serious. Surprised by his knowledge, the officer nodded.
“Yes….” Blake added. But then again, there was nothing to be surprised of. Given Wayne was in the hotel when it all happened. 
“How did she take it?” “Surprisingly pretty well” Blake said, as he began to walk alongside Wayne ,“But she seems to have her hands full today, doesn’t look too good” he sighed, involuntarily empathizing with her. And given Wayne’s subtle yet concerned expression, Blake realized he was not alone there. Finally reaching the exit, the officer was compelled to do the unexpected:
“Since you were a witness to the incident,..” he began, making Wayne look at him, “ I think it’s probably best that you also know…”
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You have always put your trust in Lillian Foster. That trust had lasted throughout your time in Wayne Enterprises without forsaking you for a mere second. Thus, you were certain she did the needful in approving the Revised Policies and Regulations before taking her leave. For you had personally witnessed it.
However, when a company email from Clara Bennett to Lucius Fox claimed HR was seemingly incapable of carrying out their operations under the current leadership, you were not surprised to find your anger making an appearance.
And the embarrassment you had to face when she even went so far as to copy you and your managers in to that said email. Professional was nowhere near this behavior. For this was simply child’s play. The panic all your department staff went through was understandable. Especially when they worked only to their very best.
“You wanted to me see me?”
Clara asked, as she entered your office. Raising your head up, you threw a cold expression her way: “Close the door please” Your tone was stern. Looking around, Clara furrowed her eyebrows. “But aren’t you supposed to-” “I’ll take my chances, Ms. Bennett” You interrupted her, lips forming a tight smile. With an uncertain nod, she closed the door shut, before taking a few steps towards you. Slowly getting up from your desk, you quickly walked over to her. It was now or never. “We saw that little email that you sent to Mr. Fox.” You stated, to which she did not flinch. Scoffing, your hands rested on your hips, “I know how things work: When people mess up, even after many warnings, they get complained about to the superiors…” you said in a matter-of-fact tone, “But…” you paused, as you were on a dire attempt not to explode, “how can you expect us...” Surprisingly you felt emotion trickling in, “...to take this lying down when you DIDN'T PERFORM EITHER OF THOSE ACTIONS?” With your voice surprisingly getting louder than expected, Clara found herself folding her arms in defense: “Look, I get it...” She said, her smile suddenly faded,  “You don’t like me snooping around” You scoffed in disbelief, “Ms.Bennett, this is not you snooping around. This is you desperately finding excuses to make US LOOK BAD” you stated loudly, “I mean…What exactly on the policies and regulations are you complaining about?” You inquired. And to your surprise, Clara grew quiet before she finally answered:
“I just...” she paused, as if she was seeking excuses,  “...don’t understand why the Policies couldn’t be circulated if they were revised” Your jaw dropped in disbelief, “What are you talking about??They were already revised and circulated” you answered with certainty, appalled by the childish games that were being played. “Well…” pausing again, “I don’t see them in the Public Folder”she said stubbornly, to which you sighed, rubbing your temples, “ And according to my sources, It’s Paula Yang’s  responsibility, am I right?” Though authority was rife in her tone, you could sense the menace that lingered invisibly.
“Ms. Bennett...” you gritted through your teeth, taking your hand away, “Paula is on bed rest after breaking HER LEG...from a biking accident last weekend” you burst out, “...if you looked up on our employees with the SAME ENTHUSIASM you did on our work, then you would probably know that” you spat, fuming with anger,  “But If you expect me to deprive her of her paid leave, JUST SO she could just limp over here to UPLOAD SOME POLICIES to a server? then you’re sorely mistaken! ” You cried out, panting.
Subtly shocked at your response, Clara stood silently. Given her reaction, it was quite evident something disastrous would soon follow. Your threw your hands up in defense.
“Fine” you said, “If you prefer to pin this error on me, please do. But… not the department” you said, as your voice grew soft , “...please” you breathed. Closing her eyes for a few seconds, Clara opened them once again, shooting you a stern glance.
“Do you know…what I was told about you before I came here?” She posed a rhetorical question, to which you rightfully did not answer to, “An unprofessional thug, with anger issues.” She said.
In all your years of working at Wayne Enterprises, this was the far from what you had ever heard from anyone. The silence ruled over the atmosphere for a few more seconds.
“So I came in with a mission...” Clara went on, “...to tame you. Or to rile you up enough to expose who you really were” she said harshly. Folding your own arms in defense, you took a deep breath:
“Well,” you began, “I believe I was angry For the right reasons. So no regrets here” you answered with confidence. Whatever consequence that may follow, you were not aware of, for your justified rage may possibly have outdone yourself this time. You only wished Lillian would forgive you.
“But…” Clara paused, “...from the way you stood up for your employees and your department…,” she said, as her expression softened, “ I guess… I was badly misinformed.” Confusion took over you for the next few seconds, as she looked straight into your eyes before taking in a deep breath:
“I’m sorry!” Your eyes widened, “P-Pardon?” Sighing, Clara reluctantly rubbed the sides of her thighs: “I’m sorry…If I insulted you in any way” she said shyly in a low tone, “Honestly speaking, no matter how much I tried to deny it, everything seems to be running smoothly” She added. 
Relief quickly washed over you. Leaving you questioning reality all the sudden. “ I would gladly leave you all alone but..,” Clara smiled, “I’ve been contracted here for a while. So, I hope we can all cooperate together till I leave. Maybe a fresh start?”
Extending her hand to you, she presented a genuine smile. A smile possibly carrying hope to gain your trust. Sincerely impressed by her bravery, you smiled back: “Sure, Apology accepted” You said, shaking her hand, “I really appreciate it, Ms.Bennett”
“Clara, Please.” She insisted, “Ms.Bennett just pisses me off even more”
Chuckling together, you nodded, “Okay, Gotcha”
The phone rang loud to your surprise. Giving her a friendly wave, you quickly moved to your desk in a cheerful manner, growing even more cheerful upon seeing the extension on the phone screen.
“Mr. Fox!” You answered, as you sat down, “How can I help you?”
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Since the fateful day she first laid eyes on him in his glorious return to Wayne Enterprises until now, Jessica would certainly never not blush whenever Bruce Wayne politely greeted her. Upon seeing her red face, he stepped into Lucius Fox’s office, walking over to find the CEO on the phone wearing a smile on his face.
“Don’t worry about it.” Fox said over the phone, “So you’ll come? Perfect…” He smiled, nodding at Wayne as he finally appeared in his eye line, “Hope to see you then” He added, hanging up the phone.
“I have to admit…” Fox began, ushering Bruce to sit, “… seeing you here every day at Wayne Tower is a happy surprise” He said. Bruce smiled.
“Everything alright?” He asked the CEO, “The Audits aren’t happening till another month or so..”
“No…” Fox shook his head, surprisingly impressed, “ I was actually wondering if you would…like to join me in the Company Dinner, this Thursday night. It’s a little gathering I normally do with the Heads of Departments...” he continued, glancing upon Wayne’s confused expression, “...to form a closer bond and… give them morale” He said, tilting his head. As much as the sentiment was kind, Wayne sighed with exhaustion.
“Mr.Fox, you know very well how I rather be stuck in the basement than go to that…” he said, slowly getting up, “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass”. Offering a polite smile, he turned around to make his leave. When opportunities to make a choice were given, he would certainly rather choose to not wear that mask in public. It tired him.
“She’s coming too”
Bruce froze, the moment Fox’s words reached his ears. Turning to him, he raised his eyebrows.
“She?” He began, “You mean…she?” He asked, highly emphasizing on the said pronoun, for both of them knew the person being discussed.
“Yes” Fox said, “Just got off the phone with her as you came in” he added, “I just thought you would like to know” with nonchalance, he casually put on his glasses.
Silently nodding, Bruce turned back to resume walking. Only except he halted once again, just to spin back around smoothly.
“Thursday…what time?” He inquired with genuine curiousity.
Being a man of his age, Lucius Fox could not help but smile at his response.
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Being the workaholic, Lunch Breaks was nothing short of special for you. The moment the last bite of your delicious meal reached your lips, it was off to work once again, giving you ample time to finish your tasks. But this Wednesday, you cast that usual habit away, taking the luxury you rarely took during this entire decade.
Just to decide on a dress.
With your lunch on the desk and Allison on speakerphone, your eyes moved back and forth from two beautiful dresses on the website. With Mr. Fox casually inviting you to the Company Dinner, all you longed to provide was a good impression. Most women in your position would feel greatly pressured and stick to a salad just to fit into the dress. However, you were far too greedy to ignore the great Spaghetti Bolognese that was on the table before you.
“Sweetie, You know I love you, So why won’t you fucking listen to me?”
Allison’s echoed out loud, as you stared at the screen with concern. “Cause it’s a crazy idea, that’s why ” you said, stuffing pasta into your mouth, “Better go with the black one…” you said with a full mouth, pointing at the long sleeved black dress, “It’s tame, and I can just blend in with crowd” squinting, you attempted at imagining yourself in the outfit.
“Boo! BORING”
Allison’s response was quite obvious.
“Hey!” Clara’s whisper reached your ears, urging you to find her standing by the door with a smile. Ever since the intervention, the atmosphere underwent a surprising change, and all was well with the both of you. It was quite unbelievable how cooperative she had become. “I’m sorry but...could I borrow a twenty?” She asked politely in a whisper, all in order not to intrude your call. “Sure…” You whispered back, reaching into your bag to grab your purse, “Hah! Lucky you, that’s all I have” You grinned, fishing out the only dollar note as she headed over to take it from your hand.
“Hey!  Hey! Sweetie, Did I lose you?”
Allison’s voice brought you back to the phone call. “No! No! You didn’t…Sorry! Argh!” Groaning in frustration, you looked back at the computer screen, “I don’t know what to do, Ali…” You muttered.
“What is it?” With her still standing there, Clara finally asked out loud. She genuinely looked concerned. Embarrassed, you pointed at the screen.
“No it’s just…” you paused, “I have to go to this Cooperate Dinner thingy tomorrow, and I don’t know what to get…” you added, “…the Black or the White”.
Silent for a few seconds, you stared at Clara as she rubbed her chin with seriousness, while making a careful observation at the screen. Finally, her fingers snapped loudly.
“The White One…” Confidence oozed out of her voice as she replied. Looking back at the dress, you took a deep breath. V neck on the front along with a low cut in the back, the pure white silk evening gown certainly possessed the potential to be a show stopper.
“I mean…Why be afraid to stand out?”
Clara’s words, they rang in your ears so loudly. Pointing at the dress, she continued: 
“Wear this, and No one will be able to take their eyes off you” The manner in which she uttered, you were suddenly filled with enough power to head out to the battlefield. Her words, they were simply invisible embellishments to the dress, making it the armor and the secret weapon. It simply became powerful. And finally, you were convinced on which dress to finally purchase. Lips forming into a warm smile, you thanked her inaudibly.
“YAY!” Allison cried out on the line, “Whoever just said that, I agree with you” Chucking, Clara cleared her throat and looked at your mobile phone.
“Hey there…It’s Clara by the way…” she said to Allison. You suppressed a huge grin as you imagined Allison’s surprise upon hearing that.
“Oh…YOU’RE Clara?…” she said, pausing, “Well I like how you think, Clara” she said happily afterwards. Relieved by the sight of both your best friend and your new friend being acquainted, your eyes moved back to the beautiful dress. 
“Wear this, and No one will be able to take their eyes off you”
Clara may be right. But you were a simple woman, and your wishes were just as simple. Little did anyone know how your heart simply longed for just one person to indulge your presence for the entire evening. But the possibility of that, was just your wishful thinking. You could only hope for the evening be as successful as imagined. As long as it had the perfect touch of jazz piano playing in the background.
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With notes played with the fluidity of a free flowing stream, the jazz piano music was certainly better tonight than it was that Friday evening weeks ago. With tonight, you only hoped to replace the horrid memory of violence that linked the genre of music with an evening more refined. For tonight, you were no violator, nor a drunkard. You were merely a lady in a beautiful, silk dress.
Walking through the Lobby in your silver open toe heels, you came into the realization of how the dress simply became you. Contrary to your fears, it embraced your curves effortlessly, while the material was kind to you, caressing and cooling your skin.The dress itself contained a sense of assurance you would most likely receive from a trusted friend, some good Samaritan, kindly whispering positive affirmations. Fashioning the outfit with your Mikimoto pearls, you felt you were prepared enough.
You were punctual, fortunately. Lillian would have been proud. When you arrived at the reserved table, the other Heads were just about to take their seats. Cold, curt nods were passed on to you the moment they caught sight of you. Lucius Fox, however was humble enough to smile widely upon seeing you.
“I appreciate you coming in tonight…” He stated, as he politely ushered you to your seat, which granted you access between him and Head of Legal, Ted’s Boss, “This is usually Lillian’s gig” he said.
“Yes I heard,” you agreed while sitting down together, “And she does it flawlessly”
“I think you’ll be able to hold off your own” Fox assured, quite impressed by your appearance tonight. You smiled.
“Thank you, Mr. Fox” you nodded, looking at him, until he suddenly rose from his own chair. 
“Ah! The man of the hour”
He said as  he looked ahead, “…so glad you could come, Mr.Wayne” 
The mere mention of that man’s name made you turn forward in a flash. Bruce Wayne was simply Suave incarnate. He certainly brought forth great depth to his presence everywhere he set foot on. You swore the airways inside began to dry out as your breath was taken away in secret. However, that breath was quickly stomped and discarded recklessly when you realized he was no alone. With a beautiful woman on his arm, he arrived at the table.
When that strong, sour feeling came over you, you were mature enough to admit it was simple jealousy. Yet then again, the playboy lifestyle certainly was demanding. The flashing smile Bruce wore slightly disappeared , when his eyes met yours from the corner of the table. With your sour jealousy stewing you, it was a sheer relief that he took his seat on the other far corner.
“Really Mr .Wayne, This is such a pleasant surprise” Mr. Kline, Head of Accounting mentioned with joy.
“Well, Mr. Fox is getting better with power of persuasion, I suppose ” Wayne said, looking at Lucius, “So...” rubbing his hands together, he smiled, “What are we all having? My treat...” 
To everyone’s delight, the night certainly started off on a positive note. According to the trusted word of Lucius Fox, Sushi was the prime choice of food on every single dinner . It was the shared interest with all the Heads by coincidence. Thus, becoming a tradition.
Fortunately for you, you knew your way with Japanese cuisine enough to save your face. Wine and Sake were in abundance in the table, leaving most of the Heads and Wayne’s date quite excited with intoxication. It was certainly a surprise for you, to see the Heads break out into wide smiles and childish attitudes once the alcohol entered their systems. They did not speak much with you, which you were fine with. You were the new one there , after all. But with Fox next to you, you felt a fatherly figure watched over you. You listened to him with earnest, which was not so difficult with his charismatic voice.
You also longed for a distraction. A strong distraction from Bruce Wayne’s eyes secretly claiming ownership over you the entire time. Could he be watching Fox? Or you? You honestly did not know. As much as your inner heart jumped for Joy by the thought of him watching you, confusion ruled supreme.
The turn of the conversation topic from Work to Sailing suddenly tempted the Heads call Mr Fox over to the other side, forcing him and Bruce to change seats instead. His date did not even notice, as she was busy engrossed in her phone. Though you were at your element, calmly eating your maki rolls in silence, your heart beat increased in an instant when his presence nearby was confirmed. His aura gently murmured a greeting of affection, urging you to look up from your plate. Covering your mouth, you politely swallowed the food. With the others engaged in their own little world, it seemed that you and Bruce were suddenly left to yourselves.
“Thank you again for the Bakkwa”
You began, clearing your throat “…it was heavenly” you said, smiling whilst flashing your full red lips. Smiling back warmly, he leaned forward to the table.
“I don’t wanna brag but...” he paused, “I found that store all by myself” He said softly, as it was a dramatic secret. Eyes widened, you played along: “Oh! I find that hard to believe” You said, chuckling.
“Ask me the address, I dare you” He said blankly, making you chuckle harder. Nodding, you generously accepted his kindness. Be it text or face to face, talking to Bruce Wayne symbolized pure joy to you.
“Well, well, well…”
An eerie voice, a voice that haunted your intoxicated memories, and a voice that caused the hairs of the back of your neck to stand. It was a voice you knew well. So bloody well.
“Isn’t this a surprise?”
The entire table looked over to find Erik Henderson. With a gracefully beautiful and age appropriate woman standing beside him, Henderson was as smug as he could be. “Mr. Henderson...” Fox said. Henderson looked right at him. “Lucius...” He uttered, without casting a single glance at Bruce Wayne. The sight of him brought a sense of fear to you. According to Officer Blake, he could very much be responsible for all the attacks you were victim to during the past few weeks. The possibility was high. Thus, the intimidation was justified. Funny how the intoxicated group of Heads managed to maintain their frozen states for a few seconds. As if their buzz was killed right off.
“Well,..” Henderson began, maintain his unimpressed expression,  “I wish you all have a pleasant evening” He stressed , slowly turning to leave. “And You!” A gasp left you the moment he spun back to point his index finger at you with such ferocity and anger. With bated breath, you wondered if time froze. Until he suddenly smiled at you. “You behave now...” He said mockingly, chuckling with power as he finally left the table. With the awkward silence taking control, embarrassment injected itself into you. The way he spoke to you was certainly disrespectful. So much so, your right hand quickly clenched into a tight fist , forcing you to revisit the trauma even now by his cruel words. All your anger, centralized into this fist.
But that anger suddenly vanished into thin air, the moment you felt Bruce’s palm rest over your fist. A literal warmth spread across every cell on your being, as his palm comforted you, and empathized with you more than ever. A few seconds of that sent you to a level of peace you never visited. The fact that a man such as he was with his inner conflicts could still heal you unexpectedly, it was magic to you. Finally looking at him, you nodded with gratefulness, leading him to take his away politely.
With silence still in charge, you were guilty of your past actions ruining tonight’s occasion as well. “Maybe it’s the alcohol but...” Kline slowly began, “...that Henderson’s face always reminds me of an…animal…” he remarked, breaking the ice, “l can’t place which one exactly...” He struggled, snapping his fingers away to remember. “A Bat?” Another Head inquired. “YES!” Kline yelled out loud, causing others to finally laugh and feel the comfort take center stage once more. Letting out a sigh, you were relieved to let them converse and make merry. You were occupied enough, recovering from Bruce’s sudden touch. “...and speaking of Bats...” Kline slurred out, “That Batman fella...” “-He comes up every time…” Fox yelled towards your direction with a sigh, while the others clapped in glee. Being so popular, it was no surprise that many consider Batman to be a celebrity of his own right. “-wonder if he ever has any off days?” Kline sniggered, red in the face with sake. “Ha! Like paid leave, you mean?” “And don’t forget insurance! Boy! that man needs a big one” “Hahaha!” “Mr.Wayne! Mr. Wayne!” Kline yelled at Bruce, “Any idea about him from the grapevine ?” He inquired. “What?” Bruce asked, “…that Looney!?!” He added with an amused smile, “Eh! Not interested” he replied with an unimpressed tone. “Why?” It seemed that everyone was curious. Even you were. “Because...” Bruce paused, “Well…he’s a Looney! That’s all….” he laughed, shaking his hand in the air with dismissal. His carefree laughter infected the others, except you. As you were too occupied observing him, you could not even focus. He may have not worn the cowl, but he was certainly wearing his mask. Noticing your stare, Bruce turned to find your face filled with a soft smile.
“You really don’t mean that about the guy, right?” You murmured softly. And all the sudden, that carefree expression of his slowly melted away to reveal his true form, unmasked. “No” Calm and collected, he shook his head with a gentle smile. A sudden urge to embrace him was birthed in you for some reason, it was certainly out of your control. “Hey! Lillian’s Backup!” You jumped upon hearing Kline call you out loudly. With all eyes on landing towards your direction, you quickly sat up straight, “What’s your take on him? The Batman?” Kline inquired informally. “Oh!” Pleasantly surprised, you were speechless for a few seconds. What were you to say really? “I -I rather not say...” you admitted, as you found yourself chuckling shyly. “Eh!” Kline muttered, seemingly unamused, “She’s no fun”he claimed,  “…not like Lillian now, is she?” The others hummed together in agreement. They may have gotten lost in their own world of conversation once again. Yet, the words Kline blurted affected you deeply. “Well….” You sighed, “Nothing I haven’t heard before”   “What is…?” Bruce’s inquiry made you look at him. Placing both your elbows on the table, you took a deep breath as you kept a brave, fixed gaze at him:
“You’re.. no… fun”
You said, in a low yet strong tone as you emphasized on every word with pain, “…that one”
“I find that hard to believe” Bruce said. He did not flinch. Instead, he accepted your stare and held on to it firmly. Even with the golden lights you were still able to make out the beautiful hazel green eyes of his up close. His gaze, it was as powerful as anything physical. As if his eyes could caress the back of your neck, brushing the loose hair from it, leaving nothing but shivers on you.
Finally breaking free from it, you sat back with a chuckle.
“Well” you began, “…you obviously haven’t met my ex”
You watched his eyebrows furrow the moment those words exited you. Taking a huge sip of wine, you pressed your lips together.
“He said I fall too fast....” you began, “or care too much...or something”
Revisiting that dark period in your life was akin to walking a thousand miles backwards, just to get your heart pricked by sharp, rusted nails. The mere image of it forced you to gulp more wine.  
“Well, Where is he now?”
Bruce asked softly. Taking a third sip, you looked back at him:
“You mean after he cheated on me?” You asked, chuckling sadly, “…He flew off somewhere…with his new girlfriend” you said, sighing “Apparently I was too predictable and doesn’t play hard to get”
“Then…” Bruce began, “…what about you throwing punches at Henderson?”
“That?” You widened your eyes, “Oh that’s just the whiskey”
Laughter ensued, breaking the tension between the two once again. Truthfully, you felt much at ease right then.
“I bet you don’t have that problem, playing the field and all” You said, holding on to your wine glass. Bruce smiled.
“Ah! Getting too attached doesn’t help anyone, I guess” he answered. And for some reason, you could empathize. Now more than ever.
“True...” you agreed, looking at him. However, that warmth you carried for him was also enlarged, and suddenly emotion overpowered logic.
“I know this is the corniest you’ve heard always….” you paused, “…but when the right person comes along...it’s so worth it” you continued, taking a deep, shaky breath, “…even if your heart gets broken into millions...billions of pieces”
Your eyes locked onto his with every word you uttered, and to your surprise, he did not look away. For a moment, his gaze on you translated into deep belief. For a Moment, his gaze dismissed every other occupant in the restaurant,  except you. For a moment his silence proved that anything was possible.
Until you realized, never was life that easy.
“But like I said…” You added, blinking away the heavy stare, “... it’s not your problem” You said, fiddling with your clutch purse mindlessly.   “Actually I-” “Whoops!” You sniggered when the clutch purse dropped out of your hand. Laughing together, you both found yourselves bending down to search for it.
“Let Me get that-” Bruce volunteered, as he spotted the purse, grabbing it for you.
“Thank you” You murmured shyly, reaching out your hand to take it.
The mere act of a clutch purse being transferred from one hand to another never felt this intense. A circus act commenced inside your stomach all the sudden. The manner you found yourself blushing, certainly proved his effect as a whole. The warmth of his palm earlier, it brought protection and comfort in the time of danger. However, the slightest brush of his fingers just now, it birthed confetti of butterflies, causing the internal circus to go berserk.
As he looked you up and down, you prayed he did not notice the red on your cheeks. For this man had such power over you, it was sheer chaos. But a beautifully, addictive one.
“Your Dress...” he breathed, making your own breath shake, “You look very-” “Bruce!” A seductive voice emerged out of the blue, as you realized it was his date walking over to his side. Being one of Gotham’s most well known supermodels, she exuded beauty with her tall and thin frame and brunette locks flowing down her shoulders. Wrapping her goddess-like arms around his neck, she whispered a few words to him before heading over to the restroom area. Compared to her, you felt like a little cinder block. “She’s beautiful...” you muttered hoarsely, looking down at your wine. You heard him sigh uncomfortably. “Listen...” Bruce began, causing your heart to long for hope, “I-” “Would you like anything else, Sirs?” The emotional roller coaster unexpectedly finished its ride when an over enthusiastic waiter’s loud voice caused everyone in the table to look up. “No, Thank you...” Fox said, slowly getting up, “Actually, I think might head home now” “And I will join you” You said, standing up in a flash, “Ladies, Gentleman...” you nodded to the Heads, “...Mr. Wayne” Giving him a slight nod, you turned to follow Lucius Fox. You dared not turn back to see his face. That would just show weakness. Just walk away, it was the right thing to do. The longer you will linger, the stronger your attachment will be. The stronger your need to love him will be. And what would be the use of strengthening that existing love, when the odds were always in the way?
Seduced by the women with the highest standards of beauty and power, you obviously must seem like nothing for a man such as he. You were simply charity, the employee in need. Perhaps your ex was right, You really were no fun.
Besides, being jealous was never your right, not especially when you did not even pour your heart out. And when you would not even consider doing so, being tied to morals, ethics and rules?
And if he even had not shown you his own heart, what gave you the right to be angry with anyone, except yourself?
You asked yourself, why were you wasting your time?
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Allison’s eyes grew wide with excitement the moment you arrived home.
Clutching onto her bowl of popcorn, she watched you close the door and lean against it to look back at her. Though her hair was in a messy bun, she still managed to pull off ‘homely cool’.
“So...” she began softly, “How did it go?” Silent, You took a deep breath, not knowing where to begin. “Well-” “-Did you make Wayne cream his pants?” Allison cut you off with glee, seemingly over excited. Jaw dropped, your face contorted with disgust. “Ali! …ewww” You exclaimed, seeing her perverted expression and suggestive eyebrows. Truthfully the thought of it brought some laughter soon after. You felt calmer. “Well, did he?” Allison was persistent. Pushing yourself from the door, you began to take off your shoes, “Well…” You paused, “I think he liked what he saw” you said smiling shyly. “Yeah?” Her excitement still intact, as you sat next to her.
“I think so…” you said, reminiscing those precious moments his blessed eyes watched only you, “…but…” you paused, “it doesn’t matter…”, Sighing, you shook your head frantically, “…cause he was with a Supermodel tonight so...” “Supermodel? Sweetie, I’m sorry” laying her head on your shoulder, Allison sighed in response. Patting her on the lap, you got up. Just like that, the little giddy excitement between two women suddenly crashed and burned upon knowing they were hopeless going against a supermodel.
“Hey! by the way…” Allison began, “…did you give money for Mrs. Hernandez’s going away party?”
You froze.
“Shit!” You cried out, “ I forgot!”
Mrs. Hernandez was one of the lovely tenants in the apartment building who will be moving out this week to go live with her son. All tenants were supposed to pool in for the going away party, today being the deadline. Opening your purse with haste, you groaned. “Damn it! I don’t have any change...” Of course you did not. Not when you gave away your last note to Clara yesterday. With the current use of cards and e-payment, you rarely used cash these days.
“Me neither, Sweetie” Allison replied, mindlessly staring at the television. You sighed. Transferring the money will not do as it wont be convenient for the others. And being a bad tenant was the last thing on your mind.
“Screw it!” You said, “I’ll just go get some now”   Running to your room, you proceeded to change.
“Cool…” Allison uttered quietly, until she remembered, “By the way, can you also get milk?”Allison yelled to your room,  “WE’RE OUT ALREADY!!”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
If wearing an elegant dress brought out the glamorous woman in you, then leggings and an oversized black hoodie brought out the homebody. With the hood over your head, you dug your hands in the deep pockets whilst standing at the line for the ATM. What was taking so long?
Almost 11pm, yet the neighborhood was bustling more than usual. In fact, it fascinated you. Younger folk in higher numbers lingered hanging about by the Bodega. You wondered if a party was taking place somewhere nearby, as most of them wore clothes with a similar vibe. Some danced to the loud music that played, some drank sitting on the pavement, while some lined up in front of you in the ATM line. Was it a party? Or a flashmob? Or were you suddenly intruding the filming of a music video? It simply seemed so unrealistic. Could it be the sake and wine were forcing you to imagine all this?
Then moment your phone started to ring, you knew you were not imagining. Not when the phone vibrated in your hand, not when the name of the caller caused you to breath deeply.
“Mr.Wayne?”
His breath over the phone sent shivers down your spine so subtly. Attraction was indeed a strange phenomenon.
“Hey! Did you go home okay?” 
He asked. Nodding, you looked around.
“Of course.” You replied, “Mr. Fox was kind enough to drop me straight home”
“Good. Good,” As he muttered in a rush, you heard him exhale, “ Listen, can we talk? ”
Nervousness took you over with a sudden burn in your face. What must he wish to say? Was he attempting to confirm what you already dread about? Was he fully acknowledging your desires to be futile and hopeless? You kept quiet as he continued:
“About tonight…I really-” he paused, “Where are you?” The loud cheers of some of the younger folk interrupted the conversation. Amongst the crowd, a lone figure walked over to the middle of the street.
“I’m at the Bodega nearby my place” you replied, trying to be nonchalant with him. However, somehow that lone figure standing managed to capture your attention, "Huh! Strange...”
“What is it?”
Your eyebrows furrowed the moment the figure turned to face your direction. Familiarity was quite strong in him. “There’s this guy here…” you said, “… who looks just like-”
You froze, “Oh no!” You breathed.
The moment the figure effortlessly pulled out a portable machine gun from his oversized long coat, it clearly dawned on you on who he really was:
“Mr. Slender?” You muttered to yourself.
Pointing the weapon upwards, loud and rapid shots were fired, causing panic amongst the public. The shock forced your hands to lose control, almost dropping your phone to the ground.
“Hello? Hello?”
You heard Bruce loud and clear, yet you were not in the right state of mind to respond. The chaos, certainly forced your heart to beat right out of your chest. The beating, increased without any prior announcement shocked you, as if the live, blood pumping organ might literally fall out of your flesh vessel.
“EVERYBODY ON THE GROUND, NOW!”
Mr.Slender bellowed, finally revealing his masculine and controlled voice. The public, including those inside the Bodega made their way to the ground. With Mr. Slender’s reinforcements inside the building, it was made sure no one were to reach out for law enforcement any time soon. Just when it seemed all had complied to his command, one obstinate young man rose up quickly.
“Hey man!” The man cried out, walking over to him, “Be cool…Be-”
“I SAID ON THE GROUND!”
Blood curdling screams erupted from the crowd when Mr.Slender brutally fired at the man, sending him flying back, falling on to the ground like a bloody piece of meat. Given the continuous reactions from the people nearby, he was certainly dead. Emptiness and fear swallowed you whole upon witnessing this.
“DON’T EVEN THINK OF BEING STUBBORN!! ”
Mr.Slender yelled out, brandishing his gun around, “MY DEMANDS ARE SIMPLE...”
He continued, “I’M LOOKING FOR ONE PARTICULAR PERSON…” he said, “AND I WILL NOT LEAVE…UNTIL THAT PERSON STEPS FORWARD!!”
Scenes such as these, they were never expected but only imagined in modes of fiction. Be it novels or films. However, when you truly got to taste it in the rusty reality, only then did you realize the gravity of its horror. And only then at that fateful moment, did you genuinely fear for your precious life.
Especially when the person he was looking for, was you.
——————————————————
Chapter 6 HERE
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#WayneAngel
The Maribat AU by @ozmav and @maribat-archive is all I can think about atm, so enjoy this while I work on the next Tim’s Secret Weapon chapter. 
Summary- After Grayson posts a video on the wrong twitter, Damian feels like he should lose his social media privileges, and possibly his hand.
EDIT-someone pointed out I misspelled Damian’s name, my bad guys
Part 1 (HERE) Part 2
 ______________________________________________________________________
“You’re really dating Damian Wayne?” Rose gushed at lunch making Marinette chock on her sandwich from the next table over, “Is he really as grumpy as his siblings make him out to be?” 
“Oh please,” Lila laughed, “Dami-bear is such a softy, he’s just camera shy,” 
“Awww,” Mylene coos, “Do you have any pictures with him?” 
“Sadly none I can share,” Lila’s mouth twisted into an apologetic smile, “He made me promise that I would be the only one to see the pictures we took together because he’s afraid of our relationship getting to the media,” 
No one noticed as Marinette hid her snort in her lunch. 
______________________________________________________________________
Most of the class had just finished up dinner when Alya’s phone blew up. 
Chloe had sent the whole class group chat a link. Now normally Alya would ignore what was probably just another of her parody news stories, only the whole class seemed to be flipping shit over it. 
Must be interesting, she thought as her phone loaded up the twitter video. 
Dick Grayson @AFlyingGrayson
 Adventures of being the eldest brother 
The video blurred for a second before focusing on the Wayne kitchen, easily recognizable from the countless other short videos the siblings had shot in it. It didn’t hurt either that the camera focused the imposing figure of Jason Todd who was screaming in the much shorter Tim Drake’s face. 
They were arguing about the batter Tim was holding. Jason holding a spoon and brown sugar while Tim waved a piece of paper, the recipe most likely, in his face as he yells right back. Jason, without warning, gives his brother a hard shove, and the camera follows his pinwheeling fall down to the floor where he lands with his face in the batter. 
The room goes silent as the camera pans over to a short black haired girl holding a piping bag, her blue eyes glaring daggers at the two men as Damian Wayne snickered next to her. 
Alya’s heart skipped a beat, thumb smashing the screen to pause the video. For a long second all the reporter could do was stare at the girl that was undeniably Marinette Dupain-Cheng. 
What the hell?
What The Hell?
WHAT THE HELL?
Thousands of questions flew through her head. 
Why was Marinette in Gotham?
How did she get there?
Since when did Marinette know THE Waynes?
Why was she baking with them?
What was going on?!
Her hands shook as she hit play once more. 
“Take over filling these macarons, please, Damian,”  Marinette’s voice was cool as you heard a snort from behind the camera, “I need to take out the trash.” 
The youngest Wayne grins widely as he takes the piping bag. “Kick their asses, angel,” He teased, leaning over to peck her on the cheek, “I got your piping bag,” 
“Since when does the demon spawn know memes!” Jason cries as Tim simply lifts his head and looks at the teens like the world was coming to an end. 
Marinette ignored them as she stalked over and grabbed Jason and slung him over her tiny shoulders like he was a bag of flour. 
“Holy sh-” 
“What the fu-”
“How the he-” 
“No swearing in the kitchen,” Marinette cut off three oldest Waynes, as she calmly walked towards the back door, “It makes the macarons bitter.”  
“Where are you taking him, Mari?” Dick asked, zooming the camera in on Jason’s dumbfounded face. Understandably so, he had at least a foot on the teen, and about eighty pounds, how the heck did she lift him? 
“I said I was taking out the trash,” She answers as she kicks open the kitchen door and dumps Jason on the patio. 
Tim bursts out laughing until Marinette appears over him and carries him under her arm, “Hey!” 
“Stay out of my kitchen,” She snaps, before closing the door in their faces. 
“My girlfriend is awesome,” Damian whispered to himself, almost to quiet for the microphone to pick up. 
“You’re one scary lady, Mari,” Dick told the girl as she turned back to the kitchen. 
She bit her lip, “I wasn’t too mean, was I? I mean I didn’t want them ruining any more sweets with their bickering, because now I have to remake the cake batter, and we’re already close on time  before Alfred gets home from shopping but-” 
“Angel,” Damian said calmly, “That was amazing and those two morons deserved it.” 
“Baby Birds right,” Dick agreed, “That was so cool!” 
She smiled, her shoulders sagging in relief as she walks back towards Damian, who had been dutifully piping the macarons as asked, “Thanks, guys. Now let’s get to work to make Alfred's birthday a success!” 
“As you wish,” the eldest Wayne teasingly announced as he goes to shut off the recording. 
The last thing seen on screen was Marinette sharing a sweet kiss with Damian as she took the piping bag back. 
“Thanks for holding this for me,” 
“Anytime, Habibiti,”
Alya wasn’t sure how long she stared at the screen after it went black, but her texts were still buzzing. They were probably all saying the words that they were thinking. 
Marinette knew the Waynes.
Marinette knew the Waynes REALLY well from the looks of it. 
Marinette was dating Damian Wayne. 
Marinette was dating Damian Wayne, even though Lila had claimed she was dating the heir not three days ago. 
Marinette looked happy in Gotham.
Marinette looked happier in Gotham then she had looked in months in Paris.
She scrolled through the messages without really reading any of them, her mind and body too numb.
Even so, Alya couldn’t help but notice that Lila was strangely silent. 
_______________________________________________________________________
Marinette sighed as she slid the finished and decorated cake into the fridge to cool alongside the macrons they had finished earlier. It had taken a little extra time to make after she kicked Tim and Jason out of the kitchen but the chocolate lavender cake was complete and decorated in an elegant design she hoped Alfred would enjoy. 
After closing the fridge she dug her phone out of her pocket, as it had been buzzing her almost nonstop for an hour before she had muted it so she could focus on the cake. 
Looking through her notifications, her eyebrow raised further and further up her forehead before she groaned. 
“Dammit, I owe Tim €20,” 
“What?” Dick asked from the sink where he was washing the dishes.
“We’re trending,” She answered.
Damian raised a brow, putting down his drying towel, “What do you mean we’re trending?” 
She held up her phone up to the two Waynes, “You posted the video on your public twitter instead of your private one, Dick. #WayneAngel and #MariDami are both trending right now in France and America.” 
Damian hissed, hand twitching towards the knife block “Grayson!” 
Dick had the decency of looking sheepish before he took off, Damian on his heels, screeching for the older boy to relinquish his phone.  
“Don’t break anything!” She screeched not even bothering to follow them, “If you make a mess on Alfred’s birthday then I’m making you into mincemeat pies!” 
 Looks like she had a twitter account to make.
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dawnwave16 · 5 years
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Reflections - Project Widow Soldier Part 2
I don’t know if I’ll be posting much of my own content again until after the New year so if you don’t hear from m until then, hope you all have a Merry Christmas (Or whichever holiday you prefer to celebrate!) and I’ll see you in the New Year! Also, I don’t think I’ll be continuing this any further as I have no more headcanons for it but I hope you enjoy this anyway.
Part 1
Anyway on with the story!:
Marinette sat in the lounge of the Avengers tower, eyes closed and for once almost completely relaxed. Friday was playing a mix of Christmas music that had everything from Peter Hollens, Pentatonix and Lindsey Stirling to Frank Sinatra and co. Currently, it was 'Grown-up Christmas List' by Evynne Hollens and its wording was making her reflect on the past few months.
When the Avengers had found out she existed she had been worried that she would be dragged away from the life she had made for herself in Paris completely. She had been extremely when Tony had walked into her class and dealt with Lila, Alya and Ms Bustier as it took all the pressure she had been feeling from dealing with those three herself off of her. The fall out from that had been extremely swift with Ms Bustier being replaced by a Ms Pargeter, who was not only a good teacher but made history much more enjoyable! The class had gone back treating her the way they always had before Lila had taken over and while she didn't care all that much about their opinions it was nice to be able to walk through the halls without people trying to trip her. She was also grateful as she hadn't expected them to support her wish to stay with the Dupain-Cheng's nor had she expected them to stick around long enough to help with the Hawkmoth problem. 
That had been interesting to be part of. Not long after they had arrived in France, there had been an Akuma attack that had forced Master Fu to name her as the guardian. Due to this, she knew she wouldn't be able to leave Paris until Hawkmoth was dealt with, and if she was honest with herself, she wanted a true holiday! This led to her asking the Avengers for help, which they were all too willing to provide. When she wasn't working on her hacking skills with Tony to get into the police video archives, she was sparring with Natasha and Bucky to make sure she hadn't lost her skills there. She had gone over her weapons training with Hawkeye too and was pleased to see that despite not actively using her skills she hadn't lost any of them.
They had had their first break when they had noticed that there were no camera's around the Agreste Mansion and gone backtracking to find out why. Seeing the number of bribes the man had paid to various people to make sure the area remained camera free was staggering, to say the least! The next step was to hack all of the computers in the mansion. She knew that Adrian had missed several classes due to photoshoots and she also knew that all the computers in his home were linked so it was simple to slip a program onto a flash drive that would bypass all of Mr Agreste's firewalls and give them unlimited access to all his computers without having to bother about hacking them. Tony had seen the logic in that as it saved time, even if it did require him to have some patience.
Some of the things they had found on those computers, when combined with the police records had been enough to convince everyone that Mr Agreste or Nathalie was Hawkmoth. When Mayura was added to the mix they were almost 100% sure. To be safe, Marinette had lent her mother the fox miraculous to case out the mansion without it being traced back to any of the avengers. Natasha had named herself Kuma Lisa* and her colouring when transformed was a dark red that could easily be mistaken for black. She had almost no white on her and as a result, she tended to vanish into the shadows which was perfect for her spying activities. When she had seen the huge butterfly window and even more damming, the corrupted butterflies that left from it, they knew they had been right. They also knew they would have to be careful as some of the purchases they had seen through the computers had included military-grade hardware and weapons.
With all the evidence they had, Marinette knew she had to bring Adrian in so that he didn't receive a shock during the battle. She had had to think hard about how to break the news to him and eventually decided to slip him a note to meet her at the Grand Paris where she could reveal herself as Ladybug and the Avengers could back up what she was saying. He hadn't taken it well but in the end, he had lowered his head in defeated acceptance. He had then asked what would become of him when his father was arrested and had been shocked when Tony had offered to adopt him. Tony knew of his love of physics and chemistry and had wanted to nurture it though he knew he would need to get Adrian into councilling so that he didn't end up the same way he had. When Adrian had found out about Marinette was adopted her had been more than willing to accept Tony's offer though he was shocked when he found out who her birth parents were.
With the help of her parents and the rest of the Avengers, the battle had gone smoothly. They had Kuma Lisa had waited out of sight near the opening of Hawkmoth's lair and had alerted them as soon as it had opened. With Kaalki's help, the whole team had been on-site within seconds. Hawkmoth had tried to fight back as had Mayura but he just didn't have the skill to go against the Avengers and Ladybug at the same time, especially as for the first time ever, Ladybug had not held back. The fight had been brutally one-sided from the start and within 10min of everyone arriving the fight was over. Chat Noir had been tasked with getting all the hard copies of anything Miraculous related from inside the mansion along with Bruce as they had wanted to spare Adrian from having to fight his father and they hadn't wanted to risk the hulk becoming Akuma bait. 
The fallout all over Paris with Hawkmoth gone was interesting, to say the least. The government had to hire extra psychologists to deal with everyone trying to get used to being able to show their emotions again without fear, yet not knowing how due to having to keep everything suppressed for years. It became a common sight to see adults floundering to situations that they should have normally been able to handle. The mayor had been outed as had several police officials for corruption, new people had been brought in to help and the UN had offered to help out the same way they normally would in war-torn countries in order to help Paris recover.
By the time term had ended she had been glad to get away from her classmates and go on tour with Jagged. She had taken the miracle box with her but had sent all the scrolls and books with Tony to be stored in her room at the Avengers tower. They were in one of her lock boxes for now but she knew they needed to get everything away from Paris as a precaution.
The month she spent travelling was liberating in Marinette's opinion. Sure she had checked every new area for any lost miraculi as Tikki had advised her to but she had also taken the chance to observe what worked the best design-wise for stage vs videos and even event situations. This had led to several wardrobe additions for Jagged and Penny as well as for herself when she found herself dragged on stage to either help translate what Jagged was saying or to sing with him after he caught her singing Halestorm's Amen while she was working on his next stage outfit. The first time he had pulled her on stage for a duet, it had been an instant sensation and from then on it became a regular thing for his concerts. She always insisted on a mask though, she had destroyed her Hydra records but she'd rather err on the side of caution, just in case!
Once her month with Jagged was up she'd headed to New York and met up with the Avengers and with Adrian, who had taken to living in the tower like a duck to water. She had been surprised to find that Tony had given her a whole floor, rather than just a room but apparently each of the Avengers had their own floor too so she just shrugged it off. She had jumped back into her normal training routine now that she wasn't travelling and had enjoyed those first few spars against her parents immensely. It was during one of the no-holds-barred all-out two on one spars they held every so often that Adrian had walked in and been stunned by how fast and hard they were fighting. When they had called an end to it he'd asked how much she had been holding back during their time as Ladybug and Chat Noir. His disappointment when she said that she hadn't used 90% of her skills had almost been tangible but he had understood why she'd done it after she'd explained her reasoning.
They had settled into a sort of sibling relationship soon after that as she tried to teach him moves that would work for him and he tried to learn how to cook from her. It had gotten to the stage that they were banned from the main kitchens due to the number of flour fights they'd had. Somehow they had ended up making sure they had a least one day a week set aside for anime and they had worked their way through SAO, Akagami no Shirayukihime, Seiken-Tsukai-no-World-Break and Isekai Cheat Magician within a week before they decided they needed to slow down. The only downside to watching Anime was that Marinette had picked up the language to the point she no longer needed the subtitles and he still needed them much to his disgust. Especially as she hadn't known any Japanese at all when they started.
She had been at the tower for three weeks when she met Peter Parker for the first time. She had just finished her work out and was leaving the gym area when he'd arrived and had been highly annoyed with Tony, thinking he'd adopted her like Tony kept trying to do with him. She'd laughed but hadn't corrected him and simply carried on her way. The second time they met was when she'd made breakfast for everyone as it had been her turn to do so as one of the few who could without burning down the kitchen. They'd spoke for a while this time and found they enjoyed each other's company. By the time her summer had ended they had become close friends and she was looking forward to seeing if any more would happen. She'd had to go back to Paris for the new school year but Adrian had decided to enrol in a school in NY instead of going back to Paris as he had too many bad memories there. Marinette didn't blame him at all for that.
School hadn't changed all that much when she returned for the new term. There were the same faces, the same subjects even though they had new topics within them and for the most part there were the same teachers. She hadn't held back as much as she had in previous years, blaming her time at the tower for her slightly more advanced knowledge. She was still bored though and although she had missed Tom and Sabine when she had been away from them she had looked forward to coming back to America again. Especially as things with Peter seemed to be getting more interesting.
Marinette was startled out of her memories by several of the Avengers walking into the room.  
“All good there malen'kaya oshibka?” Bucky asked. (Little bug) “Yeah, I'm alright zhuzhzhaniye.” She replied (buzz kill) “Just thinking about how crazy everything has been since you all dropped into my life.” “You wouldn't change it for the world and you know it Bug,” Adrian said even as he settled on the floor in front of her. “True,” she admitted quietly “I'm just glad I have somewhere I can be me, you know what I mean?” Adrian nodded as did most of the Avengers. “Enough with the heavy thoughts, people. It's Christmas! That means presents and getting drunk and possibly eating too much!” Tony said effectively interrupting her thought process again. Jarvis changed the song to 'December Song' and by seemingly mutual agreement the ones sitting closest to the tree started to pass round the presents that had amassed underneath it. The rest of the day was spent enjoying their time together and living in the present. They knew that should anything threaten any of them, they would face it together.
*(Kuma Lisa is a fox from Bulgarian folklore and Russian folklore who usually plays the role of the trickster. Kuma Lisa is encountered with another character known as Kumcho Vulcho - a wolf which is opposite to her and very often suffers from her tricks.)
@northernbluetongue; @liamnl; @vivilakitty
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tea-and-conspiracy · 4 years
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Prompt 8: Clamor
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Eliane began to wonder why she’d decided to come along on this trip.
She wasn’t needed, not truly, other than perhaps as medical aid. Normally she’d be right alongside everyone in the thick of the exploration -- or in the inevitable trouble that ensued -- but now the lady found herself restrained by the extra lives she carried with her. The risks that she was used to taking simply couldn’t be taken now.
Well, no, she still had other weapons. Her pen had ever been mightier than her proverbial sword, and sure enough it was her diplomatic skills that had been needed of late. Someone had planted contraband among the Bellworks’ warehouse out on Pier 1, and Brave Horizon was the one who’d had to take the fall. None of this sat well with Eliane, yet the wheels of bureaucracy turned slowly and there was only so much she could do as an ijin in Kugane. It was the waiting that was the worst part.
And so, for desperate want of a distraction, the lady left her suffocating inn room and threw herself into the clamor of the markets. Though she’d teased Elliot and Valeriaux for shopping earlier, she was herself weak to the very same vice. The rest of the Bellworks always regarded the three of them with knowing looks in such circumstances: oh those nobles she knew they were thinking, and deservedly so.
But oh, there was just too much in Kugane that couldn’t be found in Eorzea! Everything from teas to spices, foods to fabrics, art and gadgets and clothing she never would have dreamed of. Eliane buzzed from one stall to another, gathering items as though to bring them back to some hive. Before long the mood in the skies shifted, and rainclouds began to roll in, but she refused to heed them.
At last she came to a bookseller, who was stocked with tomes and scrolls in a myriad of languages. Already a couple of other visiting Ishgardians had crowded the stall, much to her amusement. She exchanged bows and greetings with them, as well as some small talk, before they all returned to browsing. There were precious few tomes written in either Eorzean or Old Elezen, though that was no surprise. Hells, it was easier to find works written in Garlean out here!
In fact, it was one such tome -- something pre-Imperial, judging by the age -- that Eliane found herself distracted with. She was surprised to find that she could somewhat understand it. How strange, that Old Elezen would share so many root words with that ancient Ilsabardian tongue. Did this speak of Ridorana, she wondered? Of Goug? Perhaps she should purchase it, just in case it was relevant to their expedition...
“...Ellie...?”
That voice. There was no way she’d heard that voice. It was barely audible as it was, it...
Eliane looked up, agape. And there he was. The last time she’d seen him, he was clad in his armor, as ever. He almost never took it off. He’d had Father’s sword at his side. He was the poster boy of a temple knight, shining and elegant, strong and proud. Now he was dressed in common attire, with a different sword at his side. He stared at her as though he’d seen a ghost, and Eliane stared back much the same.
But she’d know those blue eyes anywhere.
“Mar...tiallais...?” she whispered, as though fearing that merely voicing his name would cause him to disappear.
But he didn’t, and so, in a surge of emotion, she ran forward to throw her arms around him, thanking the Fury over and over that he was hale, and alive, and safe.
And though so much had happened since then...that was enough for now.
@brave-horizon​ @newty​ @autochthonousone​ and @mythrilreflections​ for mentions! <3
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amenomiko · 5 years
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Thank you for the request! As usual I’m sorry for the late post. Ahahaha. Ha. TT_TT anyway I hope you like it <3
IkeSen Warlords x Underground Hero MC
Nobunaga
Hero Name : Fireball (Ironic. Ohoh)
Quirk: Fire User
Weakness: Will burn something by accident if she have a fever.
-“How ironic.” Is the word that she said when he called her “Fireball”.
-When he found out about her identity, that’s where he understood what does she mean by ‘Ironic’. ‘Fireball’ itself is the name of her, as an Underground Hero.
-She is basically a fire user, and a strong one at that, to Nobunaga’s amusement, especially when she didn’t hesitate to follow him to battlefield.
-But her weakness may hurt her own ally as well. Because..
-“Haachiuuu QAQ!!”
-*BOOOM*
-Hideyoshi gasped to the burnt breakfast, and ran to the kitchen. “___! You are not allowed to help the maids in the kitchen until you get better, you understand?”
-“B-But- HAACHIUUU QAQ!!” Another raw chicken is burnt into crisp.
- “No buts. Your fever will burn the ingredients and Nobunaga-sama is taking this chance to suggest us to have konpeito for breakfast.” He growled, followed by a long sigh.
Hideyoshi
Hero Name: Aquamarine
Quirk: Water User
Weakness: Her tears will change into pearls when she cried, so if anyone didn't know that she is a hero, she might be kidnapped.
-She is very soft, gentle, and very empathetic towards anyone. Just, anyone.
-Too emotional, she can cry easily.
-Hideyoshi get to learn about her pearl tears when she was nagged by him, and one of the vassals saw her pearl tears and kidnapped her the very next day.
-Despite that, she is very strong as her power is deadly. It can be changed from a liquid to a solid form, and any source of water is like her servant that serve her.
-Even though there's no source of water in field of war, she can still summon it, as to say, she is not fully dependent on source of water, as she is a "water" herself.
Masamune
Hero Name: Silent Chao
Quirk: Invisible weapon user, particularly accompanied with a hand fan as weapon, that acts like a sword and a hand pose like a gun will act like a gun.
Weakness: She can't use her power fully if she is separated with her hand fan. She could use a paper, but it won’t be 100% effective. And, if she playfully make a pose of hand gun, she might accidentally shoot someone.
-His first question is: "Can it be used to cut ingredients?" which earned a glare from her.
-But how ironic she use it as a knife to cut the ingredients for cooking-
-Masamune misused her fan by locking her movements, and swing her hand to cut Hideyoshi's pants.
-"Is that... 'All Hail Nobunaga' written on his fundoshi--"
-When they become lovers, she nearly shoot him because she's does gun pose when she replied to one of his cheesy pick-up lines with "Aaayyyy 😏👉 <3 and-
-*BANG!*
-He went pale when the wall has a smoky hole in it.
-"Hyaaaa Masamune I'm sorry! I didn't mean to QAQ!!"
-"Heh. It's alright lass- *Bonk!*"
-The paper scroll fell directly on his head and he fainted in instant.
Ieyasu
Hero Name : Melodia
Quirk: Voice
Weakness: If she cry (out of fear or extreme sadness), she might break glasses and people’s ears will be damaged more than usual damage she can cause.
-Her voice is very soothing and beautiful. She can make enemy fell asleep, or confused, and her high pitched voice will break things.
-Animals would always be attracted to her mostly, including the dangerous ones (which freak Ieyasu at times). But seeing her lulling Wasabi to sleep, or him, makes his anger fade away in instant. Was it because of her quirk? Or because he had fallen in lo- of course not. That’s ridiculous. (Yeah, yeah, Ieyasu, we get it.)
-Another reason to freak out: Try not to upset her, because there was one time when his contrarian personality has stepped on the boundaries, it has given him the best lesson ever.
-“I-Ieyasu- y-you- it’s better if you take those words back.” She trembled, holding back her frustration and fuming anger within her, despite knowing he is being contrary. But not today, just not today-
-“What? Are you going to use your voice so it confuses me so I slap myself?”
-*snap*
-She had cried so loud (Out of frustration, obviously), and it had destroyed all of the ceramic jar of herbs in his room, and all the fragile items within the castle.
-How did the cry end? Ieyasu force a kiss on her. That’s how they become lovers after that. *snort*
Mitsunari
Hero Name: Super Lady
Quirk: Super strength
Weakness: If she didn't control it, she might break someone's bone.
-Mitsunari is the first one to be amazed with her strength, constantly complimenting her, making her blush and accidentally break any stuff near her, or destroying something that she was holding at that time.
-For example, she broke the plates she carried into half and it took whole of Hideyoshi not to get mad at her.
-But there's one time when she saw a mosquito on his cheek, she had sent Mitsunari flying and it took a month for him to recover.
-And.. She ever break the castle's walls because she kicked one of the bullies (that bullied Mitsunari) into a wall out of anger.
-It took all of her not to squeeze on Mitsunari's arms so much when they were kissing (because hell, that angel is very good at it).
Mitsuhide
Hero Name: Psychica
Quirk: Psychic
Weakness: If she is in negative state (mentally and emotionally), the things around her will be destroyed and she might damage her own body.
-He found out when MC tried to stop a bullet that were fired by the enemies during war because their army has weakened.
-Ever since then she has become his partner in long range squad because she can control the movement of arrows and bullets.
-But Mitsuhide had to keep an eye on her because she ever rage from enemy's dirty trick and killed all of them in instant, resulting her to cough out blood from extreme use of her mana.
-And.. Whenever she's angry, it's such a hassle to hide himself because flying object will run after him.
-Not to mention when small knives stab his clothes (making him stick on the wall) when she wanted to confess her feelings to him.
Kenshin
Hero Name: Heiki-sama
Quirk: Weapon summoner and Master in using weapons
Weakness: Just like fire user, when she sneeze from fever, random weapons will come out from her.
-Kenshin didn't give a single glance at her, until she show her interest in aiding him for war.
-She had summoned weapons in front of him, assuming she was a ninja at first, but it wasn't the case.
-He knew about her background when he take a chance to give her a surprise attack, and it drives his lust to battle more (as she keep on summoning random weapons, especially when it's a weapon that he never seen before)
-It amuses him some more when she had a fever, making her sneeze with weapons (extra points to his amusement when the castle is full with random weapons)
-She had pouted after that and as a revenge she locked all of his sake and plums with a chain.
Shingen
Hero Name: Koori no Kimi
Quirk: Ice User (Unlimited power of ice, and she be able to freeze a fire)
Weakness: She is able to freeze a whole town if her mental state is negative; changing summer to winter, and it will be hard to defrost as it is uncontrollable until she calm down
-Shingen gets to know it when she tried to escape from his flirty touchy  attack when he was drunk during one of the victory feasts.
-She had pinned him to wall with her ice and it made him sober impromptu.
-It took him a while to earn her trust because whenever he is near, there will be ice mist coming from her legs a.k.a a warning to not get close.
-Even though she is strong, Shingen still refuse to bring her to battlefield because well, goddess must not stain her hand (Oh joy.)
-Only to get another ice attack from her, by freezing his snacks to his dismay.
Yukimura
Hero Name: Shifter
Quirk: Shape Shifting (Includes both living and non-living things)
Weakness: If she is in a weak state, she might change into things she couldn't control. For example, if she sneeze from a fever, she might accidentally changed into a pencil for no reason.
-Yukimura get to know about her when she changed into a REAL wild boar and head butt him because she was too angry.
-And change into an enchantress when he called her that as well.
-There was one time when the castle nearly need some huge repairs when MC changed into a dragon because she was too angry with her banter with him.
-Endless pranks with him if they were having a fight again.
-He ever gave her a surprise kiss, making her changed into a knife for a week, and will try to stab him (because she were too embarrassed from it), until Sasuke had to get involved to calm her down.
-Reason: Enough with one Stabby Lord, we wouldn't want to add another stabby person.
Sasuke
Hero Name: Kemononoke Hime
Quirk: Summoning Spirits of Animals
Weakness: Her mind must be calm throughout the summoning. If she gets angry or any negative state is in her mind, the spirits couldn't be controlled and will start to eat human's energy.
-It's easy to get to know about her because well, he is from the future and underground heroes is everywhere.
-Her no.1 Fan at that.
-"Your quirk reminds me of summoning Pokemon, like __ I choose you." - Enthusiastic voice didn't match his stoic face.
-Constant compliments of "As expected of MC." and "You are very strong, it is the reason why I'm your no.1 fan." which indirectly made MC blushed with his words and resulted in imbalance emotions within her, and when she said "PLEASE STOP >/////<!"
-The castle is full with animal spirits and he is buried among them.
-But he is happy- honored. Correction.
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colosseumed · 4 years
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from:           EURYDICE     ›               is  this  the  path  you  want? from:           EURYDICE     ›               i  never  returned,  don’t  you  want  to? from:           EURYDICE     ›               or  is  the  road  you’ve  always  known  you’d  take?
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not  to  be  the  most  annoying  person  ever,  but  too  late,  i’m  cc  &  i  love  the  hunger  games.  if  you  saw  me  writing  my  own  syot  fanfic  when  i  was  thirteen,  no  you  didn’t  </3  anyway,  einar  is  a  born  &  bred  career  from  district  two,  if  you  see  me  comparing  him  to  cato,  yes  <3  his  whole  thing  is  he’s  mostly  quiet  but  he  will  cause  problems  on  purpose.  i  don’t  have  any  stats  or  anything  BUT  i  have  wc  @  the  end  of  the  intro  so  if  you  want  to  just  scroll  all  the  way  down,  do  it  i  dare  you.
 ❛           𝗮𝗶𝗿  𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺  𝗮𝗶𝗿     ›     𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐑     .  
[ NAM JOOHYUK, CIS MAN, HE / HIM. ]    introducing einar gallowind, TRIBUTE of the 74th hunger games, representing district 2. my sources say that they are twenty - five, & that they’re pretty handy with weaponry. wonder if that will do any good in the arena ? anyways, caesar says you can’t miss them, because they remind everyone of the eerie calm before the storm — the trees shouldn’t be standing this still, echoing footsteps that near hiding prey, a haunting drag of a blade against the ground, forbidden tears and fears that rear their faces in the stillness of the night & a rotting sunflower field abandoned by a once peaceful caretaker.
 ❛           𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸  𝗶𝘀  𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲     ›     𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒     .    
blood  tw.
the  darkness  is  empty  –  but  it’s  home;  can’t  you  remember  walking  home  with  nothing  but  faith  on  your  back?  with  bloodied  bandages  wrapped  around  your  fleshy  palms  &  tape  around  your  brittle  ankles,  gingerly  smelling  the  quarries  as  your  dream  gets  less  &  less  likely.  &  home  –  what  you  call  home,  the  dimmed  lights,  the  absent  parents,  the  fading  colors  –  home  was  really  never  home,  was  it?  you  chose  your  path,  didn’t  you?  named  for  a  fearsome  warrior,  exterior  made  of  marble  &  blood  earned  arrogance,  what  would  they  say  if  they  saw  the  empty  glass  interior?  it’s  fragile,  make  sure  you  don’t  break  it  before  your  time.
 ❛           𝘁𝗵𝗲  𝗺𝗼𝗼𝗻'𝘀  𝗴𝗼𝗻𝗲    ›     𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐒     .
                              CHAPTER I.  
full  name  .  einar  seraph  gallowind nickname(s)  /  alias(es)  /   title(s)  .  tribute  of  the  74th  hunger  games,  tbd. age  /  dob  .  twenty  -  five  /  march  2 hometown  .  district  2. current  location  .  the  capitol status  .  alive  for  now  ig. specialty  .  weaponry gender .  cis  gendered  man pronouns .  he  /  him  . orientation  .  bisexual  ,  grayromantic occupation  .  career  trainee  /  tribute face  claim  .  nam  joo  hyuk
                              CHAPTER  II.  
height  .  six  feet  ,  two  inches  /  190  cm build .  the  build  of  someone  who’s  been  training  his  whole  life  –  tall,  broad,  well-built  &  toned.  his  limbs  are  muscular  &  lean,  his  torso  is  well  toned  &  he  keeps  in shape  with  daily  training. tattoos  .  none piercings  .  none scars  .  small,  3cm  scar  on  his  upper  left  lip. hair .  dark,  just  a  shade  lighter  than  black.  kept  short,  cut  often  by  a  family  chosen  stylist  from  the  capitol  –  these  days,  styled  specifically  to  help  him  look  more  visually  appealing  to  the  general  public  in  hopes  he’ll  gain  more  favor. eyes  .  the  same  shade  as  his  hair  &  generally,  has  always  been  told  they’re  off  putting.  inherited  from  his  mother,  he’s  got  the  same  eyes  that  can  easily  put  people  at  unease  –  cold,  soulless,  harsh  –  he’s  got  the  gaze  of  a  basilisk  but  he  often  doesn’t  realize  how  often  he  does  it. clothing  style  .  plain  &  basic  so  he  may  be  styled  however  someone  else  wants.  his  own  style  is  a  mix  of  darks  &  neutrals,  usually  comfortable  clothes  that  he  can  always  go  running  in  or  do  a  quick  spar  session  in. usual  expression  .  stoic  –  maybe,  too  stoic.  often  emotionless  with  a  lifeless  stare,  he’s  always  been  more  of  a  silent  statue  type  –  right  down  to  his  resting  expression.  it’s  uneasy,  the  way  he’s  clearly  alive  but  could  easily  blend  in  with  the  grand  statues  at  the  most  expensive  of  museums. speech  .  rarely  heard,  but  always  remembered.  einar’s  reserved  his  speech  for  only  the  necessary  moments  –  interviews,  reviews,  conversations  (  that  he  deems  alright,  if  he  doesn’t  find  interest,  it  isn’t  uncharacteristic  of  him  to  just  walk  away  mid-sentence  ).  when  he  speaks,  he  commands  attention,  inherited  from  his  father  who’s  always  known  how  to  work  a  crowd.  einar  speaks  well,  he’s  charismatic  &  equable  even  if  he  doesn’t  seem  it,  great  at  manipulating  crowds  but  he  chooses  often  not  to. distinguishing  features  .  his  tall  stature,  a  scar  shaped  birthmark  on  the  base  of  his  right  thumb,  the  actual  scar  on  his  lip.
                              CHAPTER  III.  
(  +  )  positive .  intuitive,  erudite,  striving,  benevolent (  -  )  negative  .  hubristic,  arrogant,  imperious,  haughty moral  alignment  .  true  neutral. likes  .  the  hunger  games,  most  weapons,  waking  up  extremely  early  so  he  can  have  time  for  himself,  being  alone,  staying  up  extra  late  so  he  can  have  time  for  himself,  the  wintertime,  icy  winds  that  bite  to  the  bone,  the  smell  of  beef  roast  i  won’t  explain,  slipping  into  shoes  that  fit  just  right,  being  in  the  capitol  when  visiting  his  father’s  side  of  the  family,  meditating  &  pretending  to  levitate  i  won’t  explain  either. dislikes  .  most  other  districts,  most  capitolites  idk  why,  tributes  who  don’t  even  try  (  like  what’s  the  point  ),  the  scorching  heat,  humidity,  victors  who’re  sad  (  get  over  it?  ),  corn,  artificial  food  but  what  can  you  really  do,  the  smell  of  the  quarries  from  district  two,  victor’s  village  cause  he  doesn’t  live  there,  hospitals  because  they’re  ugly. quirks  .  has  a  silver  heirloom  coin  that’s  been  passed  down  from  generation  to  generation  that  he’ll  flip  &  weave  through  his  fingers,  can  stand  /  sit  /  stay  still  for  hours  at  a  time  without  moving  a  muscle,  will  get  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night  to  stare  out  a  window  &  ponder. hobbies  .  training  restlessly  because  he  doesn’t  really  know  what  else  to  do  anymore,  twirling  whatever  blade  he  has  in  his  hand  because  he  can,  wine  tasting  with  his  father,  running  &  sprinting,  also  swimming,  watching  designer  shows  &  learning  how  to  make  clothes  because  of  his  mother.
❛           𝗼𝘂𝗿  𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱     ›     𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐋𝐄     .
trigger  warnings : blood,  injury,  
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life  has  been  easy  for  you  –  you  can’t  deny  what  is  fact.  einar  gallowind,  descended  from  a  bloodline  of  gold;  it’s  always  been  fated  for  you  that  you’d  end  up  doing  something  great.  if  victory  isn’t  yours  to  grab,  you’ll  still  be  remembered  (  and  after  all,  isn’t  that  what  matters  most?  ).  your  father,  reinhardt  gallowind  of  the  capitol  –  he’s  a  former  broadcaster,  a  charismatic  man  on  television  who  sways  the  entirety  of  panem  with  his  words  &  charm.  he’s  a  dangerous  kind  of  evil,  one  that  seeps  into  your  own  blood,  &  you  learn  very  early  on  that  your  father  isn’t  the  same  evil  as  the  figures  that  loom  over  panem  –  he’s  a  sly  kind  of  evil.  his  words  sway  the  capitol,  he  decides  who  lives  &  who  dies  based  on  who  he  chooses  to  praise,  his  smile  is  as  sinister  as  it  is  warm,  you  witness  it  first  hand.
your  mother  is  from  district  two,  her  last  name  carries  weight  in  the  district  but  she  is  nothing  in  the  capitol.  lavender  goldheart  is  a  sweet  girl  from  a  sweet  family,  but  she  is  the  same  kind  of  evil  as  your  father.  she  is  upturned  noses  at  the  poor,  laughing  at  the  deaths  of  innocents  broadcasted  on  a  far  -  too  -  big  screen,  sending  gifts  to  the  already  privileged  tributes  of  a  game  nobody  should  partake  in.  she’s  the  kind  of  evil  that  attracts  your  father  &  you,  you  are  a  product  of  two  evils.  you  are  raised  in  a  district  that  your  father  chose  to  move  to,  you  hold  your  first  blade  when  you  are  five,  you  maim  your  first  opponent  at  seven,  you  learn  how  to  keep  your  composure  from  a  socialite  &  a  broadcaster.  two  evils  of  the  same  variety,  they  teach  you  to  become  worse  than  they  could  ever  be.
you  grow  arrogant.  to  the  citizens  of  district  two,  to  your  classmates  at  the  academy  you  are  ruthless  &  cold,  a  career  tribute  of  the  upmost  class  –  what  everyone  should  aspire  to  be.  you  excel  in  weaponry,  your  brute  strength  gives  you  an  upper  hand  in  hand  to  hand  combat,  &  while  you  lack  in  survival  skills,  you  exceed  in  making  sure  you  don’t  have  to  survive  long  enough  to  need  them.  bold  warrior,  you  are  a  deadly  silent  that  puts  your  classmates  at  unease,  they’re  only  friends  with  you  because  they’re  scared  of  you  &  that’s  what  your  parents  want.  they  want  a  victor  for  a  son,  you  want  victory  to  have  parents.  because  they’re  never  around,  not  really.  
the  lights  are  always  off  when  you  get  home,  you  have  enough  money  in  the  world  but  will  your  parents  even  show  up  when  you  ultimately  volunteer?  what  a  sad  story,  you  suppose  as  you  ponder  it,  poor  rich  boy,  his  parents  never  loved  him  enough  so  he  decided  he’d  gain  their  love  with  blood.  it  makes  you  laugh,  almost,  as  you  watch  the  years  pass  by.  you  watch  the  games,  you’re  hungry  for  blood  as  you  watch  victors  come  &  go  –  you  memorize  their  names,  their  stats,  their  victories  –  it  betters  you  as  a  trainee,  you  suppose.  your  training  continues  &  you  outgrow  your  classmates  (  you  are  the  best,  einar,  nobody  else  will  say  it  to  you,  but  you  know  ),  you’re  worthy  of  the  games.
but,  you  are  but  a  boy.  you  sit  on  the  eve  of  your  twenty-fifth  birthday  with  nobody  for  company  but  yourself,  you  have  the  riches  of  the  world  but  you’ve  got  nothing.  you  are  the  owner  of  a  heart  that  longs  to  love  (  to  be  loved,  ),  you  have  goodness  in  your  bones  even  if  you’re  convinced  you’ve  always  been  built  for  evil,  you’ve  never  had  the  ability  to  access  it.  the  world  your  were  born  in  was  always  against  you,  the  odds  were  never  in  your  favor  –  that’s  the  lesson  you’ve  refused  to  learn,  but  you  will  –  eventually.
❛           𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿,  𝗮𝗻𝗱  𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿     ›     𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃  𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒     .
from  district  two,  anyone  he  might’ve  trained  with,  anyone  who  might  know  his  parents,  anyone  who  he  might’ve  gone  to  school  with,  anyone  he  might’ve  sparred  with,  anyone  his  family  (  either  the  gallowinds  or  the  goldhearts  )  might’ve  wronged  at  one  point  or  another.
scenario  one,  a  tribute  that  he  finds  he  ends  up  caring  for  –  he’s  outwardly  cold  &  very  much  skilled,  top  of  his  game,  trained  his  whole  life  &  your  muse  is ...  not,  but  einar’s  like  well  damn  what  am  i  gonna  do  protect  this  tribute  with  my  life?  absolutely  not  but  i’ll  make  sure  they  at  least  get  out  of  the  bloodbath.
scenario  two,  another  tribute  but  he  doesn’t  care  much  for  them  at  all.  to  be  fair,  einar  doesn’t  care  for  most  people  but  he  knows  them  by  name  because  maybe  there’s  a  rivalry  there  or  maybe  they  just  don’t  get  along  or  maybe  einar  did  the  thing  where  he  just  turns  on  his  heel  &  walked  away  mid-convo.  anyway,  on  sight  means  on  sight.
for  other  tributes:  someone  who  isn’t  a  fan  of  the  careers,  someone  who  has  a  Bone  to  Pick,  someone  who  einar  will  manipulate  &  lead  on  to  k-word,  an  unlikely/reluctant  alliance,  a  likely  alliance,  someone  he  stares  at  just  to  make  them  uneasy,  someone  who  wants  to  get  him  to  say  more  than  hey  what’s  up.
for  victors:  a  ‘never  meet  your  heroes’  cliche  where  he  admires  them  but  they  said  no  thanks,  someone  who  he  thinks  is  lame  cause  they  didn’t  “deserve  their  win”,  someone  who  he  thinks  is  lame  cause  they  can’t  handle  their  win,  someone  who  he  thinks  is  cool  cause  they  could  handle  their  win,  someone  who  doesn’t  like  him  because  he  reeks  of  arrogance,  someone  who  likes  him  because  he  reeks  of  arrogance.
for  citizens:  um.  we’ll  figure  it  out.  please  love  me.
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elmidol · 4 years
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There is a Necessity in Balance (NSFW)
Three Blind Tooke Part Two Precarious Harmony
Read on AO3
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Warnings: oral, vaginal sex
Three Blind Tooke
 Part Two: Precarious Harmony
 Chapter Thirty-Nine: There is a Necessity in Balance
 Urvno entered your bedroom shortly after you had finished the cocoa and cookies. Kylo had left with Rey to address the Knights of Ren. A part of you suspected that their absence was also to ensure you were more forthcoming with the physician than you may have been when in their presence. He would not yet draw your blood for testing. Urvno informed you that you would fast that night to ensure that he could do so the following morning. In the meantime, he seated himself on a stool that he had brought with him. The datapad he carried was tilted your way, and you glanced over the information displayed. He had outlined what sort of dietary changes he wanted for you. These would assist in boosting your metabolism; it was a reminder that your uterus was not the only organ damaged by the lightsaber.
 The First Order physician was someone you trusted with your health. He had always excelled at keeping you alive. You had harbored so much hatred, resentment and, yes, fear during your time on the Finalizer and Starkiller Base. Urvno has been the only individual—aside from Kylo Ren and General Hux—with whom you had let down even a fraction of your guard. You found your body readily relaxing in his presence. This contrasted with your unsteady relationship with General Hux. With the red head, you always had walls up. His cold eyes constantly searched for weaknesses in your armor. Tooka. A pet, which the man clearly viewed as being replacable.
 One of the sweets that your mother had baked remained on the plate that was set on your bedside table. This you grabbed whilst the physician scrolled past the data outlining the dietary changes in favor of bringing up information regarding the exercise regime you would start with. It included images—scans, to be exact—of the weak points in your anatomy. Your upper body strength had not suffered quite so much as your lower extremities. You bit down on the cookie.
 A second instance of Urvno scrolling revealed the first weapon that you would learn to wield. You fought to control your facial features. At any moment, until they left, either Captain Phasma or General Hux could walk into your room. They could see your expression and become suspicious. You clenched your jaw to prevent yourself from mouthing its name. That would be a huge mistake for the aforementioned reasons.
 This was a projectile weapon, although you would not equate it with a blaster. A lanvarok. You had never wielded this, much less could not remember having any personal experience seeing it. It was a weapon used by the Sith if your memory served correct. The projectiles were controlled via the Force...which you did not have.
 Rey, you realized. Kylo Ren was leaving you with Rey in part for missions like this first one. The target that would be killed by the lanvarok was a known collector of Sith artifacts. That meant black market. Deals went sour all the time. It made perfect sense to you. You only hoped that Rey could bring herself to assist you. Your Force bond would help guide her hand despite the distance that would be between the pair of you and the target. There were Force sensitive beings throughout the galaxy, ones that kept their powers a secret.
 Your skills as an LDS and Rey’s capabilities as a Force user.
 Initially you did not realize that you had started to hold your breath. Only the building discomfort alerted you to the manner in which you were agitating your lungs. A steady exhale followed by a slow inhale. You drew the tips of three fingers back and forth along your forehead. The training that you would undergo involved strengthening the connection you had with Rey. When it came to the first target alone, it was an individual with plenty of credits to toss around for protection. The Knights and Rey, or maybe Rey alone, would focus on them while you placed yourself into a position to fire upon the target. You would observe through a scope, your bond alerting her to the moment you pulled the trigger, and from there she would take control of the projectile.
 It only made sense for at least one of the Knights to be present on this upcoming mission. Otherwise one of the bodyguards could overtake Rey, if not prevent her from fulfilling her part in the assassination.
 The weapon’s capabilities in hand-to-hand combat would prove useful when you were confronted with the hired guards and mercs that protected the perimeter.
 Of course, the new Supreme Leader of the First Order wished to keep his name out of the mission. He would not be involved in arranging a meeting. That’s my job as well, you thought. Not that you were surprised. When working with the splinter cell of the Resistance, there had been one mission wherein you had been responsible for a similar act. At that time, though, your target had been a First Order officer.
 A tap by Urvno’s middle digit eliminated the data on the screen. You reeled back a fraction, startled by the suddenness of the action. Your eyes darted to the door to your bedroom. No one there. No sounds of footsteps. You supposed that there was no true reason for the physician to risk being caught regardless. It wasn’t as though you were physically ready to work with the weapon. Nor did you know if it was already on-planet. It was your target that you would be researching. Learning their routine, how they arranged meetings. That information would take some digging.
 You settled back against your pillow and stared at the familiar patterns on the ceiling that had long ago been traced by your mind. This room was so small compared with your memory of it. Large when contrasted with the bunks and shared quarters that had been your life since leaving home.
 Urvno did not rise from his position. He was content to observe you, the man likely assessing how your behavior altered now that you were not in enemy territory. He was the one out of place this time. That was...nice. Relieving.
 “What do you think?” you asked. Receiving no answer, which you attributed to the vagueness of the inquiry, you elaborated. “You once tried to prevent us from meeting together. After Starkiller… Now we’re married. Does it terrify you that I may not survive? Or do you have more hope that it will be possible?”
 He drew a hand down the length of his face. There were exhaust lines on his features. How had you missed those? Or had you conditioned yourself to ignore whatever glimpses of morality there were on the faces of those in the First Order?
 You could hate so strongly. Hate blinds people. It was a lesson your parents had taught you, and that Ip had reminded you of on more than a single occasion.
 “Don’t be afraid,” you told the man, the gentleness in your voice half faked and half genuine. An echo in the mind: that line, by countless voices. Your father. Kylo. Ip. Kylo. Yolo Ziff at one point. Kylo. Your stomach clenched. How was your former enemy, your current husband, among those names? That part of his humanity that complicated things. The phrase spoken as a manipulation tactic then more softly, earnest. “I guess that isn’t fair to say.”
 For the first time since you had met the man, the final sliver of coldness melted away from the man’s gaze. There had always been a sort of wall in place before. A barrier that stated you were Resistance and he was First Order. Urvno reached for your hand, enclosing his around it. Something a parental figure might do. Your eyes stung. There was a tightness in your chest that clenched, unclenched, clenched again. You dared not lean too much on this man, not physically nor emotionally. But you kept your hand in his, and drew comfort from the contact.
 “We were all told that Snoke was overthrown due to a betrayal he had dealt the First Order. I signed up to serve the cause, not a single being.” You had done that as well, which was why when Kylo Ren and General Hux had mocked singular beings you had been able to ignore their jabs. But whenever they ventured to curse your beliefs, you had lashed out in retaliation. “The galaxy is far from what it could be.” This view you shared.
 By pushing for the galaxy to demilitarize, the New Republic had crippled those in need. They had allowed attacks on Outer Rim planets, and they had allowed the First Order to grow in the shadows. The military did not exist solely for war. That was something your father had taught you. Protecting the weak, similar to how the Jedi functioned, that was the role of the military as well. It was what General Organa had tried to remind the New Republic of. And she had been deemed a warmonger.
 Deciding that enough time had elapsed, that it was becoming too familiar, you withdrew your hand from Urvno’s. The physician stood. He verbally repeated the dietary changes that would be implemented, as well as reminded you that fasting was imperative for accurate results. There were several things he wished to test for. A mini exercise routine would be copied to a basic datapad that he would bring. You took basic to mean childlocked. No extra features. No means of giving into temptation to contact the Resistance. That was fine. You were committed to the mission. Most important, to staying by Rey. She was the Light, along with Luke Skywalker. A beacon of hope that the Resistance and its allies would fight alongside. That was your duty. You didn’t need anyone else to tell you as much.
 I need to find a way to read up more on Sith lore. This could be a trick. A way to manipulate Rey to give into the Dark side of the Force.
 “I’ll follow your orders,” you said. There was wiggle room in your words. You did not promise the extent of your loyalty nor its duration.
 As soon as he left and you were alone in your room, you rose from the bed and walked over to the window. There was life, vivid and brilliant. You had missed Naboo and its sights. Space was gorgeous in its own right, but it could not compare with home. On this planet were the people you had known while you had grown. Some of them had pretended there was no looming war. That had been your mother. Misguided. Hopeful.
 Hope was that double-edged blade you had never mastered. One day you would, this you swore to yourself.
 On the other side of the window pane, Rey and Kylo stood opposite one another. Their postures were different from what you had observed when they sparred. A lingering sense of peace buzzing in the back of your mind; the impression via your Force bond that the young woman was calling upon the Light. She was looking to your husband for guidance on...you did not know what. There were countless things she could be asking. A former scavenger. A young woman who had been waiting on Jakku, some backwater planet, for her family to come back for her. Now thrust into this war, into the position of symbolizing hope for many. She, like all living beings, had her doubts. There were vulnerabilities that she had to be hiding.
 I had many teachers, even those beyond Ip, you thought. She’s had to be on her own. And now that she has both Skywalker and Kylo… You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth and lightly bit down on it. But Kylo can’t learn about Luke’s connection with Rey.
 “Tooka.” You startled at the voice that broke through your internal musings. The muscles in your legs tightened, though your torso remained more limber, allowing you to twist around with a certain amount of ease. You met the man’s gaze for but a moment prior to staring at the ground.
 The eyes were the key to the soul. At that moment, you were guarding a secret: that your mother still lived. General Armitage Hux was skilled when it came to reading others. You knew that he could read your moods. Always searching for your weaknesses. Avoiding his gaze could prove a fatal act if it was for a prolonged period. As soon as you gathered your bearings and successfully placed your mental defenses, you took a deep breath and looked his way. Acted for all the world that exhaustion had been the reasoning for your behavior.
 “General.”
 “Grand Marshal, actually.” Oh, how he loved his titles. This one caused you pause. Kylo Ren could very well be weaponizing the promotion; it would assure that Hux failed to act on plans to overthrow the new Supreme Leader until for a time. Stroke the man’s ego and he would remain content until other obstacles in his quest to obtain power were eliminated. The Resistance first of all. Unless Luke Skywalker was the foe he feared most. “And you, his wife. New names that place us under him.” Unspoken: I shan’t remain under him for very long. The Supreme Leader is dead; long live the Supreme Leader.
 You cautiously stepped forward, your eyes searching his face. His flesh was tight near his eyes. Mouth pulled into a frown. This was not gloating. Now that you were paying attention, you saw the underlying resentment that contrasted the victory such a promotion granted him over others. Others who were, ultimately, already beneath him even before Snoke had been overthrown. Grand Marshal Hux walked into the room only to pause in his steps one stride later. You wrapped your arms around your midsection, cupping your hands around the limbs to keep them busy.
 “Is the rank official yet?” you asked when silence had stretched on another fifteen seconds. He quirked an eyebrow. “You seem the sort of person who’d want a whole ceremony and parade.” The redhead barked out a laugh filled with amusement. His shoulders were still shaking when he brushed past you to peer out the window. The thoughtful hum prompted you to twist around and return to your former position, albeit this time beside the Grand Marshal.
 There would be no parade in his favor; and whether or not he wished for one, it did not matter. You observed him via your peripheral and his reflection. This took some time and effort on your part. Any time Rey or Kylo would shift, your eyes refocused, eliminating the opaque version of Hux. His attention shifted to the former Jakku scavenger on occasion, however he was predominately fixated on Kylo Ren. Armitage’s upper lip curled in unconcealed disgust and frustration. Hatred. A slight blessing for the Resistance. The newly deceased Supreme Leader Snoke had been wise to create that wedge; the pair would have overthrown him sooner. And now? Now it gave the fragmented Resistance a fighting chance to regroup.
 “It must kill you to be cooped up here.” This was not a jab at you. His voice and tone were both too soft for that. You side-eyed the man, attempting to learn his motivations. “I’m no fool, tooka. I know you are always plotting.” He gave you a once-over. “That may explain things. A subconscious realization that you needed to be kept weakened. Never enough power to overthrow him. Perhaps he was not quite so blinded by his personal interests as I had allowed myself to believe.” His chest puffed out, his nostrils flaring. Grand Marshal Hux crossed his arms behind his back and tilted his head to the side—towards you, as though you were some co-conspirator. “That won’t last once he leaves this planet, will it? You are a stubborn woman. Not that stubbornness always stems from wisdom.”
 There was the jab you had been anticipating. A weak attempt; it attacked your views without becoming too personal. His plans to overthrow Kylo Ren had a place for you. “So… We both know I’ll never give up—something I’ve said since I was first captured.” A deflection that lacked a proper closure to the conversation. Here the Grand Marshal turned his head to stare directly at you. You, on the other hand, started to watch Rey. You could see the side of her face. Her jaw tight, her eyebrow pulling inward, an indication that she was glowering in agitation at the older Force user.
 The pair outside had their similarities, but they were ultimately, drastically different from one another in key ways. Kylo possessed a selfishness that Rey did not. He had grown up with so much only to decide it wasn’t enough. Rey had owned almost nothing but made the best of it. They were bound to clash from time to time.
 Hux is witnessing this as well. He’ll want to use Rey.
 You cleared your throat, noticed the subsequent twitch that came from your companion, and confirmed the young woman had caught his attention as well. Grand Marshal Hux smirked instead of becoming flustered. He did not utter another word to you. You clenched your jaw whilst the redhead exited your room. Everyone believed they were in control. So delusional. You wanted to be in control, however that did not mean that you deluded yourself into believing that you were. You did what you could. Fought against your restraints. Made progress. It was why you did not ignore Rey.
 She had not altered her expression. It was that frustration with Ren that Hux would play upon, the same way Snoke had done to him and Kylo. In some ways, you might be forced to utilize that frustration. If that was what it took for her to correctly assist you with the lanvarok. The difference being that you would be working with her.
 Hoping that the calmness you sometimes felt from Rey worked in the reverse, you closed your eyes and tried to think of happier times. In solitary confinement, such things had helped to keep you sane.
 Instead you felt a spike of irritation that rushed through you, stabbing at the back of your head. You reeled forward. Hands shooting out, you caught yourself on the edge of the window, tough your forehead hit the glass all the same. You dropped down to your knees. Out of sight should Kylo or Rey look up in your direction. It hadn’t been a soft thud. A roll of your eyes. Inward curses. The Force was not your friend even if it existed inside of you.
 Even from your room, you could hear the front door open. It hit the wall hard enough that it was obvious it bounced back towards the individual entering. Wood meeting flesh. They caught it with their hand. Either Rey or Kylo; you were unsure which you preferred to see. As long as they separated from one another, you did not care. Light could consume darkness. Darkness could consume light. Both were difficult for you to handle. That was when you didn’t have a headache. You growled low in your throat whilst running a hand along the point of impact. Flinched at the spike of pain. Another swear left your lips, this one different from the one you had uttered when first you had injured yourself.
 Footfalls on the stairs. You held your breath to better hear their sounds. At last you identified the owner. You twisted around without rising from your spot. This allowed you to greet the young woman the moment she entered your room. Your eyes tracked her movements all the way to the bed, upon which she sat. Thankfully it was on the edge and facing you. Her lips were set in a frown that bespoke of a previous pout or snarl.
 “Are you okay?” Your inquiry was not immediately paid much heed.
 She blinked, knit her brow, and visibly thought of what you had asked her. Once the question registered, Rey drew her legs up off of the floor and crossed them while she answered. “Kylo is able to sense Master Skywalker to an extent. He knows we’ve had contact...and lying to him doesn’t completely work.” Oh how well you knew that to be true. “He said he will speak with the Knights of Ren so that they can help me… Help me while I distance myself from Skywalker. He sounded sympathetic.” So did she as she spoke. Rey did not yet want to relinquish the idea that one day Kylo Ren could turn back to the Light, however you could tell that she was realizing it was something he would have to choose to do. No one could force him.
 What were you supposed to say to that? You wished to comfort her without lying to do so. You chewed on your bottom lip while ruminating on which approach, what words, were best suited in these circumstances.
 It took you but a minute to realize you had an answer for her.
 “A grudge like what he has doesn’t fade. And… You want the Knights to trust you, to feel comfortable, I know that. I don’t know their history with Skywalker—if they have one.” Rey nodded in thought, her facial features relaxing. “Hate helps him. The Dark side feeds on it, and he’s allowed it to consume him for years. You don’t have to give up hope, Rey. We do what we can. We’ll do it together. Actions can speak louder than words. The bond you share with him might help him feel how it is to choose the Light every time that you do.”
 Just then, you were allowed to feel it. The warmth as more of Rey’s agitation faded away. She gave you a small smile. It brought to mind the question, or repetition of the question, of her capabilities with a lanvarok. How adept would she be with the weapon? Furthermore, how skilled would you be? The warmth rushed through you in waves. Just as the fears and doubt coursed through you, that sense of contentment from her helped to ease the worries.
 “Kylo wants me to train with a lanvarok,” the former scavenger said. She knew how to play ball in this court. Grand Marshal Hux and Captain Phasma would not be surprised to hear this information if they were eavesdropping. You nodded, locking gazes with the brunette. “As a polearm, I shouldn’t have much trouble. I used a staff on Jakku. And it’s impervious to lightsaber blows, which may come in handy.” Rey cupped her hands together on her lap. “There is a distance of only five meters if I practice with a different model.” The model that you would use. A frown tugged at your mouth. That wasn’t enough distance, not for your comfort. “One of the Knights has been tinkering with it, finding a way to make a hybrid so that it can be fired from a further distance.”
 The unspoken portion: there was a chance that this hybrid would never see the light of day. And where would that leave your mission? You could do it, technically speaking. They would be watching Rey’s lanvarok. Your smaller model could be concealed. Once you pulled the trigger and she took control of the projectile...no one would see it coming.
 “You have your work cut out for you.” Translation being we have our work cut out for us. She understood what you meant and nodded.
 Once you were able to study more about the target, you would grow comfortable with the task. You looked in the direction of the space heater. You had turned down the temperature, neglecting to shutdown the device until some of the tenseness in your muscles went away. That tension had lessened after your time with Urvno, and again now that you were with Rey. If only your mother could be there; you wouldn’t need the space heater at that point. The differences in opinion that you and she had did not negate the fact that it was such a relief to see her in person. To know that she was alive, that she loved you—or part of you, the part of yourself that you sometimes missed. Even with the hurt that she felt, she had made you cookies. This was proof enough that she cared. She was, in her own way, accepting the differences.
 At night, when all becomes quiet in the house and darkness surrounds the building in which you had spent your childhood, you laid in bed with your back to Kylo Ren. It was not to snub him. The man was watching you in that familiar manner. Studying not your behavior but your very existence. As though you might disappear if he blinked. A small part of you had wanted to sleep with Rey instead, to whisper and hope that no one overheard your discussion of how to handle the future mission. You were tired of being out of the game. As soon as you had settled down in bed with your husband, however, it had been easy to relax. It served as a reminder that you were smarter than that; taking needless risks would ruin everything.
 You turned around to lie on the opposite side and stare back at the Supreme Leader. This was not how you had expected your life to go. That thought reminded you of conversations you had had with him in the past. There was no fading away into reminiscing. You clung onto the present by scooting nearer to him. Kylo dipped his chin; you had slipped further underneath the covers, and your face was more in line with his neck.
 With the lights out, there was much of him that you couldn’t see. That would play in the reverse. You reached a hand out to touch the side of his face. This tangible connection that he refused to make himself. A contrast to your history with him, although you were aware of the reasoning. Reasonings, actually. He did not wish for the Grand Marshal to hear you in the throes of pleasure. Nor did he want to exacerbate the genuine exhaustion that plagued your body. Lastly, he was silently pouting over your fondness for the female Force user.
 She missed Finn. Kylo had informed you of this, substituting Finn’s name with the label of traitor. Guilt was drowned by hope, which was a relief for you. There were already far too many anchors holding you down. You would break each and every one of those chains in time.
 The flesh underneath your fingertips was harder when you touched his scar. Smooth in its own way. “I miss bedtime stories.” Back when monsters weren’t quite so real.
 Kylo embraced you with a single arm then drew you more tightly to him. You did not struggle. Closed your eyes and breathed in his scent. He smelled clean. And suddenly you thought of the ashes, the ones he had smeared across you on the day, or perhaps night, you had been reborn as his prisoner, his guest...as Tooke. What had happened to those ashes? The electronic tooke pet was on the bedside table, its settings on silent mode so that it wouldn’t keep either of you up all night. Things. Symbols. You did not want to be materialistic, that wasn’t you. It hadn’t been you, your mind corrected. Now there would always be a part of you that craved the feel of something tangible.
 He asked you why you missed the bedtime stories that you had heard growing up, and you found yourself unable to articulate your reasonings. There were countless. The few that made any sense sounded immature, childish, whimsical, foolish. You were too jaded to speak them aloud.
 “It doesn’t matter. I just do.” A soft sigh escaped him. You felt the heat of his breath on your eyelids as your lashes fluttered. His hand slipped up underneath your shirt, its palm meeting the small of your back. You rested your forehead against him, closed your eyes, and let yourself drift off to sleep.
 Morning began early for you. Urvno drew your blood for testing, and you followed both Rey and your husband to the front yard where they planned on training. Captain Phasma stood off to the side. Her helmet on as usual. The Grand Marshal, on the other hand, had his facial features exposed. The distaste in his expression when his eyes drifted to Kylo; the passing interest whenever he considered Rey. So long as Luke Skywalker remained alive, Hux knew that it was wise to keep a Force user nearby. Phasma would go along with him if it meant surviving. Together, these two could potentially eliminate Kylo Ren—and the galaxy would be all the worse for it. A First Order run by two merciless individuals. Perhaps together they had dealt with the senior Hux. Such thoughts made you sick to your stomach.
 Two Knights of Ren, one of which handed Rey a staff, joined the Supreme Leader. She would be facing multiple foes. Later on, in the absence of the triumvirate, Rey would wield the lanvarok. It was here on the planet somewhere, the polearm version that she would be in charge of.
 They started slow. Rey ducked under the swing of the taller Knight’s blade. A moment for breath then the second Knight charged her and aimed for her feet. She used the staff to give herself leverage, landed on her feet behind the Knight, and knocked one end against his back so that he stumbled. Another breath. Kylo Ren came at her with his lightsaber ignited. Having observed him on the battlefield, you instantly saw that he was holding back. There was no aggression. His movements were slow, allowing Rey to see where the blow would land so that she could catch it. Had she been wielding the lanvarok, there would have been different angles for her to use. You noticed her eyes dart to those points on the staff. It was mental work as much as it was physical.
 The training was for your benefit as well. If you were unfamiliar with how Rey handled the weapon, you would fail the mission. Maker, you wished that the Grand Marshal and chrome armored woman would leave Naboo, that they hadn’t arrived at all. It would have been easier to train. These limitations were irritants.
 But, father, you taught me patience. You relaxed where you sat. All tension in your body faded away, melting in a similar manner from back during your training with the splinter cell. Those days in solitary confinement that would have otherwise driven you insane. You taught me how to live. I’ll succeed. I won’t—I can’t disappoint you.
 Kylo Ren told Rey to use the Force on a stone that he handed to her. He wanted her to balance it in the air, to keep it afloat, as she maneuvered through another staged attack. That was a trick. Balancing one’s focus on the polearm and the disc; a staff and a rock.
 Captain Phasma remained off to the side for the duration of the training session. Grand Marshal Hux disappeared into the house three quarters of the way through. It wasn’t arrogance that made Armitage leave. He trusted Phasma to take care of whichever Force user would be of less use to them. Or to find the weaknesses of both. You were glad that the Knights did not leave Rey’s side when Kylo did.
 The man you had recently married made a gesture with his hand as he walked past you. You rose, heeding and accepting the invitation. He entered the room that he had been frequenting. Your father’s study. “He told you.” You murmured a timid response of I finally asked. There was no need to state that the First Order officer had baited you into asking. Kylo knew the redhead well enough to already know this. “How much?” Hinting at an illness, that’s all. A snort from him. Kylo twisted around, his eyes pinching in the corners. Mouth twitching into an expression of annoyance. “Would you like to know more?”
 “Yes.” You were breathless, desperate. Your husband nodded, raised a hand, and called upon the Force. There was a hidden compartment in the wall to the study. You took a step backwards when it slid open. Secrets. Kylo allowed his compassion to bleed through, stating that children were often oblivious to things they did not wish to see. Signs of illnesses. Focusing instead on the times when your father was in remission. Kylo gifted you with the comfort of privacy. You sat on the floor of the study with the files that told you your father’s true medical history, and you cried in despair and awe. Your father had been stronger than you have ever known.
 Eighty-five minutes passed before you left the solitude offered by the study. You did not want to be alone anymore, and it was not Rey that you sought. Kylo Ren was seated on the end of your bed. His elbows rested on his knees. His hands cupped together with something in his palms. His jaw was moving, though his lips remained pressed together. No sound from him until you were inside of your room with the door closed. Only then did he look up and inform you that the electronic tooke had died.
 “The battery?” you asked without pausing in your steps. Kylo shook his head. “Oh.” You did not know how you felt about that. It seemed such a small thing. Miniscule. Unimportant. It was a game that could be started over. You withdrew the device from the leather-clad hands, bent down to place the object on the floor, and rose back to your full height. Kylo Ren remained watching you. “It’s okay.” You had taken a second to assess the way your muscles felt, how strong your fatigue was. “It’s okay,” you repeated just as you sank down to your knees. His parted to make room for you. One hand immediately went to the back of your head. Its twin had met yours with freeing his cock from the confines of his clothing. He did not ask you why you wanted this. The truth? It had become a familiar sort of release that you craved whenever you experienced intense emotions. It was a connection with Kylo, who had seen your father through your eyes. You could not experience this with anyone else. Even your mother, whom you would speak with as soon as possible, couldn’t do this for you—allow you to feel as though you were floating beyond your body.
 Your mouth was wet with saliva, which instantly slicked up his length as you took him into your mouth. Ren snapped his hips forward. You shoved him back towards the bed, the hand on the back of your head bringing you along. He groaned. The sound so hungry that it sent heat through your body, down to the tips of your toes. You felt your inner walls clenching, felt the wetness of your juices in your panties. The sensation of arousal was something you wanted more than an orgasm, at least right then. That buzzing in the back of your head. It would become louder as you came then fade away. You wanted to hold onto it. Which was why you let him rise on his second attempt. Kylo fucked into your mouth, and you set your hands on his thighs while letting him control the movements of your head.
 His heavy breaths were loud, they had to be for you to hear them over the pulse in your ears. Your eyelashes fluttered. Through tears that formed as his cock slid along your tongue and towards the back of your throat, you stared up at his face. Kylo had been watching you for as long as he could before he let his head fall back. His breath hitching between gulps. He was close. Your throat bobbed each time you swallowed his cum. Only when he softened, as your tongue continued to tease his sensitive length, did he pull away.
 Kylo Ren tucked his cock away, walked around you, and helped you onto your feet long enough that he was able to get you onto your hands and knees on the bed. You delighted in the sensation of teeth nipping at your shoulder through your clothing. “I don’t want to cum,” you whispered. Tried to whisper. It was not a scream, was less than a conversational tone even, but it wasn’t a whisper.
 You knew that he understood your meaning without further explanations. One hand toyed with your breast. A gentle massage. Just enough to tease you. The other hand finding its way between your legs. Three fingers rocking back and forth, bringing you close to the edge. Then the contact was broken. Your inner walls spasmed. So close. Your body screamed at you that it was so kriffing close to release. That delicious buzz.
 “Oh...kriff...yes….” A shudder ran through your body. Arousal ebbed—and he knew it. Kylo hooked only two fingers between your legs this time, wedging them between your outer lips with ease. He manipulated the wetness in your underwear and used it to slide his fingers back and forth against your clitoris. You rocked into his touch. “Please.” Please keep prolonging this moment. Don’t let release come. Don’t let this moment end then fade away.
 He whispered your name. Your body reacted to that as well. It was almost too much. “I can give you what you want,” he purred. Air felt so thick. How could you breathe? You were panting, that was how. Panting and nodding, because he could. He could and he was. “There is no resistance.” Or was it capitalized in his statement? Was he denying your association with the Resistance? Did it matter?
 It should, a quiet voice said.
 Should did not equate to does. The name of an organization should never define its existence, shouldn’t claim to own a set of morals or views. Your mother somehow opposed both the First Order and Resistance. Two extremes?
 “I need more,” you whimpered, wanting the buzzing to return. Craving it. Needing it—it needed to drown out those thoughts. Those thoughts would otherwise make you wonder what your father would have wanted. You would never know, and you could never know. All that you knew was that he had wanted you to live, that he might have been afraid to die but he did it with a brave face. And that was what you wanted to do. You wanted to do what was right, but suddenly the galaxy wasn’t black and white with the First Order representing evil and the Resistance representing good.
 There needed to be a gray area, otherwise the war would never end.
 “More,” you cried out when Kylo did not immediately respond. He chuckled, albeit not cruelly, and kissed the side of your neck. His tongue swiped along the shell of your ear. Body pressed tightly against yours, pinning you to the mattress and toying with you. Then he showed you, once more, how skilled he was with words. Dirty whispers that brought out a: “Slow down, I’m not ready to cum.”
 “Shh, I got you,” he said, easing off. Holding onto you. Not breaking the contact, and following your lead, your needs. “We’ll do this together.”
 He may have been talking about sex, or the, or both. There had to be more than just light or just darkness. Gray. A balance. Sometimes the light was blinding. Sometimes you needed that darkness. Sometimes, you felt, you really did need him.
 “Yes...please… Please…”
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mattzerella-sticks · 5 years
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Lucky You, Huh? (Clover Ebi/Qrow Branwen, set at the end of s7)
After all that happened, it's time for the dust to settle. Choices were made. Now, the consequences for certain actions need to be carried out.
Even though he fought alongside her to save Mantle, Robyn Hill couldn't help save Clover from the whims of the Council. Without a job or home, Clover needs to find a way to carry on.
If anyone understands what that feels like, it's Qrow. Never being one who can communicate his feelings well, would he be the best to comfort the other man. When he's the only one who can, what does that mean for Clover?
            Qrow watches him from afar. Leaning against the wall of Atlas Academy, a small bag sat between his legs while he stared into his scroll.
            He looked different, out of uniform. Dark jacket with sleeves hiding golden skin, a green shirt with a white four-leaf logo underneath. Kingfisher nestled cozy on the studded belt. And his face… lined in ways Qrow never saw before. Sadness as bold an accessory like the horseshoe pinned to his lapel.
            “Where do you think he’ll go?”
            Startled, Qrow barely showed it. He glances to his left where Ruby and Yang stand together. Yang bundled tight with her arms crossed over chest while his younger niece rocks on her heels.
            Ruby blinks up at him, asking again, “Uncle Qrow, where do you think Clover will go?”
            Qrow sighs, scratching his chin. “…I don’t know.”
            “Where can he go?” Yang says, “Ace-Ops seemed to be his life.”
            “It’s not fair!” Ruby stomps, “After everything he did to help us… and this is the thanks he gets? It’s… it’s – it’s ugh!”
            An understatement. He nods, turning to observe the other man again. Somehow unaware of the little party gathered yards away. Or, he was. Given the tightness in his jaw and how deep his eyebrows furrowed since last he saw. Like if he lost focus from the scroll Clover wouldn’t know what to do.
            Which, he doesn’t.
            “You’re right,” he says, “But what he did made Clover a traitor… and there’s no place for people like that in Atlas.”
            People who disobey direct orders to, instead, fight for the rights of the those who would’ve died if Ironwood’s plan went unchecked. Who helped him and Robyn sneak in under the cover of a ruse so they could surprise his former teammates and rescue the others. Who took the harsh lashing from Ironwood’s crazed rants without flinching. Who, even after being praised by the Council for his courage and conviction, was forced from his position because of his liability status.
            “I’m really sorry about this,” Robyn said, catching him after the Council finished their meeting. “I tried my hardest but… with how Ironwood went rogue, and everything that happened because of Salem, they… we thought our military needed a rebranding. So the people can trust us again. Because Ace-Ops were so closely tied to the General…”
            “I… I understand, really,” Clover nodded, “And I’m not mad at you, Robyn. But… there’s nothing I can do? They won’t let me teach, either?”
            She sighed, squeezing his shoulder. Whatever Robyn told him Qrow couldn’t hear from his position. Hidden behind a turn, waiting for when the meeting ended. To see Clover. Except when most of the members left with strident purpose, his reason for being there walked through the doors with a slump to his spine. Distressed, Qrow’s heart beat in double time. He readied to call his name when Robyn beat him to it.
            When they hugged, Qrow sped away. Unwilling to be third party to an intimate moment. There were more important things he needed to focus on, that he put off because of his worry for Clover.
            Now that Qrow had nothing left to do in Atlas, his feelings resurfaced.
            “He wasn’t the traitor,” Yang huffs, “General Ironwood was. He nearly killed all of Mantle out of fear.”
            “That doesn’t make James a traitor, Yang,” he says, defending his old friend. Hard to do given how far he fell from grace, but it’s second nature. The image of a younger James always came to mind whenever he thought of the man. Before responsibility and war weighed on their shoulders. They walked unburdened while the world placed stone after stone on their backs. Qrow struggled from time to time, but he never faltered. Sometimes relying on an extra hand to help steady himself. James moved with tireless grace until, suddenly, he buckled and broke, lying flat on the floor. Unwilling to accept the offered hand.
            “What is he, then?”
            “…Stupid. Incredibly, unbelievably… stupid.”
            She scoffs. “You have to be stupid to think that plan of his was going to work. Like a little distance would matter to Salem…”
            Warmth leaks through his arm through a gentle touch. Ruby, at his side, says, “You should go talk to him.”
            Qrow won’t face her. “He’s clearly busy.”
            “He’s clearly hurting,” she says, “And you’re his friend. Clover did all of this… for us.”
            “She’s right Uncle Qrow,” Yang adds, “it’s… the least you can do.”
            It’s hard to decide which he’s angrier at, his nieces ganging up on him or that they’re right. Qrow chooses neither and both. “Fine,” he growls, “I’ll do it…” He stalks away, adopting a casual gait the closer he moves towards Clover. Stumbling only when seafoam eyes break from the screen and lock onto his.
            He stops, cheeks burning and fingers twisting the lining of his pockets. “So,” Qrow starts, tongue awkward behind his teeth, “how’re you holding up?”
            Clover attempts a smile but can’t show more than a broad stroke of a line. Completely level. “I’m… barely. Barely.”
            Qrow nods, mirroring his stance. Shoulders brushing up against each other slightly. “It’s rough, isn’t it?”
            “No,” Clover says, pocketing his scroll in a way that makes more of their bodies touch. “Actually, I couldn’t believe how easy it was. Cleaning up my quarters took… less than an hour. Everything I own is in this… this bag.” He kicks it, knocking it over. “And besides Winter and Robin… there wasn’t anyone I needed to say goodbye to. I tried thinking of people, but…” His eyes flit to him for a brief second. “But that was all.”
            “Really?” Qrow asks, “No one else?”
            “Ace-Ops wasn’t about making friends,” Clover shrugs, “Any free time meant optimizing our skills, abilities, and strategies to better protect the city of Atlas and of – of Mantle. Maybe I could have checked on my teammates but I… don’t think they’d want to see me.”
            Qrow agrees, silently. Remembers how each member of Ace-Ops reacted in shock when Kingfisher’s hook caught Elm’s Timber on an upswing. Pulled it from her hands so she couldn’t slam it on a newly freed Weiss.
            “Stand down,” he said, “As your leader, I’m ordering you to –“
            “You’re siding with them Clover?” Harriet asked, fury crackling to life in her gaze. “Is that it? Them over Ironwood? Over us?” He didn’t answer her. “Well,” she continued, “I guess that doesn’t make you our leader anymore. Just another criminal.”
            That hurt. No matter how many times they gave their speech, Qrow never bought it. Working alongside people changes you. An exposure effect. Might not be friends but definitely more than strangers. He knows from first-hand experience. So, when Harriet said what she did, Clover’s heartbroken expression made sense.
            “If it’s all so easy,” Qrow says, drawing them both from their thoughts, “why are you still here?”
            Clover chuckled, wiping at his cheek. No fights or danger to force him to hide the broken edges of his spirit. “Because this is the hard part.”
            Qrow understands. Even though it wasn’t much of one, Atlas was Clover’s home. And being forced out – after everything he did for it – was the worst form of gratitude. Reminds him of a younger self staring across from his sister, her blade between them. “Branwen might be your last name,” she said, “but we’re no longer your family. Leave.” Under the scrutiny of his entire village, Qrow fled. Drowned his abandonment with ten bottles of the cheapest liquor he could afford.
            A thought of Clover, drunk, passed out at the bar crosses his imagination and curdles his stomach.
            “I’m sorry,” Qrow says, rushed, “I’m sorry this happened to you. You should… they shouldn’t have taken your job from you.”
            “They had to. For peace to remain in the kingdom, Ace-Ops couldn’t exist anymore. The people’s trust in us was broken.”
            “But to toss you aside like that…” Qrow scowls, borrowing his niece’s words. “It wasn’t fair.”
            Clover shifts so their elbows knock together. “All choices have consequences.”
            “You didn’t have much of a choice though,” he argues, “Do the wrong thing but obey orders, wind up in prison. Do the right thing but think for yourself, end up without a job. It… it makes no sense!”
            “I know. Still… I made it. You were there.”
            Tyrian watched with glee as they stood in the cramped quarters of the transport. Giddy, unable to speak from the excitement over such strange twists. Robyn waited with tensed muscles, hands twitching in case her crossbow were needed. Qrow didn’t think of his weapon. Hoped they could avoid drawing them forth.
            He took one step forward. “Clover,” Qrow said, “Clover… what are you going to do?”
            Conflict played obviously on the other man’s face. Wrapping his head around Ruby’s message, trying to make a decision. He glanced at where his weapon rested, binding their prisoner, then to Robyn and finally Qrow. “I’m going to do what’s right.”
            “I’ve heard that before,” Robyn huffed, reflexively unfurling her crossbow’s wings, “it’s never been any good. So, Clover, what is right?”
            Right has no set definition. Ask anyone to do so and the answer is subjective. Always changing like the hands of a ticking clock.
            Qrow believes he knows what right is, especially in that situation. Trusted Clover felt the same too, even though the shadowed voices in his head whispered doubt. More hurtful than ever because they’ve been left unchecked. Booze no longer impeding their mission to drive him crazy.
            Clover said, “Ironwood’s going too far. He needs to be stopped.”
            His chest tightened in a frightful mess. Relieved to hear him agree but also doubtful he actually said what Qrow wanted.
            Robyn felt similarly. “Funny how this is the line you’re not willing to cross.”
            “You don’t believe me?”
            “Call it suspicious caution,” she said, holding her hand to him, “C’mon… you know what to do.”
            Qrow raised a brow at the gesture, unsure of what to do. Clover studied the hand intensely, frozen like a statue. Seconds ticked by deliriously, until he firmly grasped her in a stiff handshake. Suddenly a white glow shone over their joined hands, shifting like clear waves of a lake.
            “Everything I’ve done is because, at the end of the day, I thought it was best for my kingdom,” Clover told them, facing Robin with steely determination. “We make the difficult choices so that people can live safer lives. Sometimes the lines blur, because things that can help in the long run don’t look like it immediately. But we do it. What Ironwood plans though… abandoning innocent civilians – members of the kingdom he swore to protect – goes against everything I stand for. There’s no way the ends can justify his means.”
            Clover moved from Robyn, looking at Qrow. “I’m loyal to the people who need protection, those above and below. I want to fight alongside you.”
            Overwhelmed, Qrow turned around. Listened while Robyn cast off any doubt clinging to Clover. Nodding when appropriate as they went over their plans in the brief window of opportunity until the transport landed at Atlas. Only speaking to wish Clover luck while he tied the bolos around his wrists.
            He smirked, squeezing Qrow’s hands between his own. “You know me, I always have it.”
            The same thundering emotions shake through him now, tremors echoing across his body. Causes him to chuckle, strange given the current atmosphere. So thick and nauseating, Qrow tries to dispel it with a quick joke. “Funny,’ he says, “how with your semblance everything usually… usually ends up okay for you. And yet, here you are… that doesn’t seem a lot like good luck. It’s bad luck. And I know what that sounds like because of my… my semblance…” Qrow trails off, sneaking a peek at Clover when it feels like his emotions are better under control.
            Seeing how his expression darkened further only sent his heart into a tailspin. “But it’s you,” Qrow continues, “maybe this is a blessing in disguise and-and your semblance will find you something even better. There’s… no reason to regret what you did –“
            “Qrow,” Clover stops him, “I don’t regret it. I’d never do that.”
            “Huh?”
            “Even knowing what happens to me, it doesn’t change things. If the Gods of Light & Darkness appeared and told me that by choosing Ironwood’s side meant I could continue serving like I did before, be the leader of the Ace Operatives I… I would choose you. I’d choose you any day.”
            Once, when fighting off a Horse Grimm, it bucked Qrow into a stack of barrels that shattered on impact. Tai and Raven kept fighting, ultimately defeating the monster and stopping its rampage. Summer rushed over to him. Shook him until he woke in a daze. Qrow couldn’t hear her over the annoying ringing clogging his ears.
            It’s almost like that now. Except Qrow can hear Clover over the tolls.
            “The title never mattered to me, much,” he continues “promotions only came because I was so good at what I do… because it’s all I want to do. Helping. I… I want to help. And how the world is, the best way I can help is by fighting. Except I can’t do that here… and I can’t do it alone. I don’t want to be alone. I’m… tired of being alone. Of shutting off my emotions for the job. I shouldn’t have to. Because when we do, we end up being no better than the monsters we’re facing! And I…” Clover’s chin hits his chest. “I spent so long shoving my feelings down that I’ve run out of space. So I’m here, unable to move, because I’m absolutely terrified of what’s going to happen next. Unsure if I can make it in the real world anymore.”
            Then, Clover’s lip trembles. His teeth bite down hard, but Qrow catches the action. Blames it for what he does next. “Come with us.”
            Startled, he whips around to face Qrow. Gaze wet and shiny, eyes wide. “What?”
            “You should… come with us,” Qrow says, cheeks burning hotter with each word. “We need to keep moving, find the last maiden. Save the last relic. Along the way we get into some… dangerous adventures. Save people from terrifying Grimm. Our team would probably benefit from having a seasoned professional with us… with your semblance, and… I – uh, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have another adult around. One man can only deal with teenagers for so long…”
            “Qrow,” Clover sighs, fiddling with Kingfisher, “I… appreciate the offer. But if this pity – “
            “It’s not!” he says. “It’s not… I…” A trove of secrets sits buried in his mind, and he breaks his promise of never touching them. Digs and dusts off the chest they’re placed in, choosing his words carefully. To not give too much away. “I always thought I had to fight alone, because of who I am. What my semblance was. Bad luck didn’t just trip up my enemies, it also hurt my allies. In battle… and off it. My team fell apart and I knew it was my fault. Raven left because I couldn’t convince her to stay. Summer died because I couldn’t protect her. If it was only me, then the bad luck wouldn’t spread and hurt anyone else. Anyone who didn’t deserve it – “
            “Qrow – “
            “But then I met you and-and you changed me!” he huffs, “Day after day, partnered with you, I… I looked forward to missions again. I was having fun. I started taking pride in my victories and recognizing my accomplishments. With you my powers didn’t feel like a burden. Like they were bad, how I always thought they were. How I thought I was. They’re a part of me and that’s okay. Having bad luck doesn’t mean I’m a bad person. I believe that now… thanks to you.”
            His senses slowly return to him. Qrow hears his ragged panting and feels the sweat trailing from his temple. Tastes the salt from where they snuck in from the corner of his lips. Sees Clover completely flipped around, grinning madly. Like somehow Qrow strung together enough rope to catch the plummeting hunter before he slammed into the ground.
            “Well?” he asks, unease crawling underneath his skin, “are you in?”
            Clover rubs his neck, chuckling. “With a sell like that… how could I not?”
            “Good… Good.”
            “Y’know,” he slides closer to Qrow. Bodies practically plastered to each other. “You were right. I guess my semblance led me to exactly where I needed to be.”
            “Yeah?” Qrow says, staring straight ahead. Determined not to melt under the intoxicating pressure. “Lucky you, then.” Mustering all the strength he has, Qrow pushes off the wall. He stomps forward, “We’ll be leaving in the hour, so don’t be late or we’ll get on without you.”
            “I doubt you’d let them!”
            Qrow doesn’t answer, because than Clover would know he’s right. Instead he avoids his nieces, standing where he last left them, and hurries to where he can find the closest substitute for alcohol and forget the insane amount of vulnerability he displayed moments ago.
            “His good luck,” he scoffs under breath, “Or was it more of my bad luck…”
            Ruby looks to Yang, smile wider than Crescent Rose. “Do we have another Uncle?”
            Yang shakes her head, gently mussing up the brunette locks of her sister. “Not quite… but I’m sure we will one day. Soon by the looks of it.”
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jamiebluewind · 5 years
Text
Character/Location Descriptions for Fantasy High 2.10!
***
As always, let me know if I need to edit or add anything and tag/ask/PM me about art and stories so I can check them out!
Warning: emprisonment, multiple injuries, canon typical violence, multiple blood mentions, gross descriptions, poison mention, broken bone mention, vomit mention, torture mentions, trauma, abandonment,
***
Brennan
"Free dad slap."
"You 'Ally'ed out of the box of doom!"
***
New Character/s
Fire Elemental #3
Genderless
Was summoned and bound by the elves of old to protect the elemental pylon that powers the permanent magical effects of Ka'lethriel Tower, which transformed them into a monstrous fire thing along with 2 other fire elementals bound there
Was embrased by Fabian in a deep dip as he cradled their head and his sheet wrapped around them both and roiled above them
The power of Fabian's dance partially stunned them and took them out of active combat
The thing binding them to protect the pylon went when the fire pit helix was put out, causing them to change back to a creature with an elvan face of wreathing flame
They cry fire
They kissed Fabian softly on the lips (for 8 points of damage) and whispered in his ear (softly like flame) "Thank you. For my freedom. For my life." before disappearing
Established Characters
Arthur Aguefort
Slows localized time at Ka'lethriel Tower, opening a rift from his desk at the academy to talk to Adaine
Crawled through the rift after Adaine confirmed that her captors chose the way of pain
The way of pain involved Aguefort using new and experimental magic resulting him growing 450 feet tall (massive thudding steps), reaching up to grab the Sun (causing his veins to light up with golden fire and his mouth to fill with a fire that releases and races across the sky), calling thousands of terracotta Agueforts to burst out of the ground and sprint north, moving the Sun itself (leaving a burning scar across the sky), and shooting lasers the width of highways that have enough power to cap a mountain in one hit with lasers that shot out of his eye (which took on a golden bright glow)
He appeared to Kristen later (via a spell that appeared as a scroll glowing with illusionary magic with his name on it that allowed him video chat with her from back in Elmville) badly injured, wrapped up in bandages, bleeding a lot, and in pain.
The new magic tore up his guts so bad that by the time he got about 50 miles north of the tower, he "shit about an ocean of blood" and almost passed out (we can't get that big, 450 feet tall is too big)
Was also hit with a lot of powerful elven counter magic before he teleported back to Solace
His terracotta army fell apart when he left
Admitted that he had been going ham for a while since after Kristen snuck him into heaven, that being dead for a couple months really messed him up, and that attempting to destroy the government of Fallinel was "just too much"
Got in a lot of trouble with the government of Solace, will probably have to go to court, and he has to move the Sun back ("gotta figure out how to do that")
Dragged the Sun "a little bit north of where it should be" (causing the far south of the Earth to be colder and far north to be hotter), but said the Sun was "going in the right direction" and "still going around the Earth", resulting in clarifying that Spyre normally goes around the Sun, but he's not sure of what he did when he dragged it across the sky and that there was more of a poetic understanding of how things really work, but he still "really fucked up"
Kear/Keer
Was horrified by Augefort's actions
"I'm getting very confused and upset with everything that these children do."
Was poisoned and vomiting when Kristen banished her with a kiss on her face, came back when Kristen broke her ankle, and was banished again by Ayda who loudly pronounces "mwah!" while kissing her face like Kristen
Oak Warriors
8 foot tall
Look like green men (not automaton) made of magic with elven faces
Vulnerable to fire
Controled by Kear
Anguin
Was blinded by Kristen
Went invisible and ran
Was knocked unconscious by Fig and left in the vault (with some of his teeth knocked out) when Ka'lethriel Tower collapsed
Aelwyn
Kept awake for 5 months
Was rescued from the tower and fell unconscious/comatose immediately
Was carried out by Ayda
Even outside the orb, her body shook with the strain and effort
As she and Adaine tranced, a tiny piece of her abjurative magic (an innate cantrip, abjurer's ward) came back and she started building a shield around Adaine in her "sleep"
Was taken to a hot spring with elven healers by Adaine
Was unsure if they actually escaped or just died before trying to cast a feeble shield around Adaine again
Her mind was damaged and the torture had a profound and corrosive effect on her well being and memory
The inside of her mind looked like a city razed to the ground with crumbled walls, battlements, towers, and arcane defenses. Only a weird, vulnerable labyrinth of images remained
Has a deep self loathing (especially for not saying anything on Adaine's behalf against their parents) and a powerful fear of her parents. Her cowardice fed into her self loathing which fed into her cowardice in an endless loop.
Had an intense magical charm in the center of the labyrinth of her abjurations and a little faint enchantment with "Despite all of the torment and tribulation, let this be proof. I always knew there was only one person clever enough to find this." written on the outside. The charm was a custom modify memory spell (which The Court Of Stars had been searching for) and contained a saved unbroken version of her from before she was capture which overrode her current broken state once it was dispelled
Adaine
Found a sword in the vault while looking for a weapon to fight with
Later gave the sword Fan-dran-goorh to Fabian (was made by his grandpapa Tel'amine)
Held Aelwyn as they sleep
Detects magic on Aelwyn and find a faint whisper of enchant magic before using detect thoughts on her
Found and dispelled the magical charm within Aelwyn which returns her sister's mind to a version before she was captured by The Court of Stars
Gilear
Fluid in his feet, especially his right (due to rolling his ankle months ago) which now has a band of purple around it (possibly a bone issue) and causes him an ambiant throbbing pain and heat from all the extra blood (GO TO A DOCTOR!!!)
Tel'amine
Tried very hard to say "Gorgug" one last time, but just said "Chedge" and then cried and became really embarrassed when Gorgug responded "It sounds like literally no sound was correct in that."
Dances with Fabian at one point in the night to the sound of Fig's bass.
He and the other adults of Kylo Me'newra give teens grapes because they believe it will make them less horny (doesn't actually work)
Riz
Shot a fire elemental over Gorgug's thumbs up
"Stay positive."
Said "It's beautiful" about Fabian dancing with the fire elemental and shed a tear before saying "It's beautiful Gorgug" and lowering his gun, aiming at the last pitcher
Poked his head in when Adaine was about to go to sleep to ask if her sister was still trying to kill them (since she was just kind of there now), listens to her answer (doesn't think so, especially with her trauma), and then slowly (and awkwardly) backs out of the room as the sisters doze off together (after Ayda dropped her off)
Gorgug
Soot on his face and singed hair after being set on fire
Had his thumb knicked slightly when Riz shot over it
Fabian
Slashed the first fire elemental on his first two turns before hiding behind Gorgug
Had an elven sheet on hand which has the ability to put out fires, so he used to put out his friends
Danced and jumped with his sheet during the battle and did a bit of contact juggling with the fire
(On being kissed) "I take it. I take every point of that damage and I take it slowly. I can feel it. In my whole body."
Was left with red hot lips after kissing the fire elemental and (with a gulp) felt a glowing moat of fire travel down his throat and rest hot and warm in his chest
Had the sheet tied around him like a cape while traveling back to meet with the others
At Kylo Me'newra, danced (badly due to rolling a 1 and a 2) all night outside with his sheet (like nobody is watching) as the ground lit up behind him with a dull glow with each step. It helped him get in touch with his feelings and his body
Enjoys the taste of the flower his grandpapa gives him
Gorgug, Riz, and Fabian
Ran to and from their pylon with their arms back like anime characters
"I believe in you/us."
"Spring break!!!"
All three were burned from their fight
After getting back to Kylo Me'newra, Fabian danced all night while Riz and Gorgug watched (cradled in the boughs of treents that hummed a song as the trees rocked them)
Riz: You know? This place isn't so bad.
Gorgug: How did this part start happening?
Riz: I thought I was just gonna sit in a tree and it started singing to me.
Gorgug: Hey. Really not horrible.
Riz: Yeah.
Tel'amine: Yes. Really not horrible at all. *catches a blossom and shoves it into Gorgug's mouth* Eat it.
Gorgug: *chews*
Tel'amine: Yes.
Riz: Is it good or is it just a flower?
Gorgug: *shakes head*
Riz: It was beautiful.
Tel'amine: *glides off into the night*
Gorgug: *coughs and sticks his tongue out*
Riz: Did that dude just feed you a flower?
Gorgug: Yeah. *hacking sound*
Riz: That was insane.
Gorgug: It's a complex flavor, I don't like it.
Riz: That was insane.
Kristen
Unmade a oak warrior due to the annoyance of her spirit guardians
*appears behind Kear and puts her hand on her back* "You're on the wrong side, but you could join us if you want. Just something to think about." *casts banishment to give Kear time to think and kisses her on the side of the head before she goes*
Tried to ribbon dance fly down 10 stories in the middle of the tower and ended up just slamming into the floor at the bottom instead, breaking her ankle
Her spirit guardians attacked Anguin while he was invisible and trying to sneak into the vault, ending his invisibility
Used sending to get in contact with Jawbone (Jawbone. Hey. Having some trouble with Tracker. She's pretty upset at me. I keep saying the wrong thing. I kept something from her. Oops? -> Tough break kiddo. Happy to help if I can. Should I find a way to contact you other than this spell? -> Fuck yes. -> Hell yeah.)
Had a long distance talk with Jawbone (using Aguefort's video chat spell) where she got advice on not treating her partner as a means to an end and about transparency.
Fig
Gave Wicklaw's sword back to Leviathan
Disguised herself as a Arthur Aguefort (but with a bass guitar) and accidentally really upsets Ayda
Played a really sick guitar riff that would make all the gems dance (to persuade them somehow and find out more about gems) and ends up causing a large gem built into the base of the tower to crack and the tower to collapse (but not before grabbing a book on gems lore)
Tried to set Adaine's dad on fire with a pack of cloves as they left
Had a sleepover with Ayda (text link below)
Ayda
Brennan stated outside stream that an incarnation of Ayda has been living on Leviathan for a very long time, building the Compass Points. When she dies and is reborn, it is a true rebirth and her new incarnation has none of the memories of her previous forms, only knowing her previous selves from the written instructions they leave behind. Her current incarnation is the same age as Tracker (17).
Can fly with two other medium sized people (and later the two plus an underweight Aelwyn)
Immune to fire
Her dad is very triggering for her
Had a sleepover with Fig
(to Fig) "Have you said something so kind on purpose?"
When Fig attacked her as her dad (due to spell fail), she got very upset and said "Dad. Dad. I'm sorry. I'm done. I'm sorry. Dad. Dad." as Fig tried to calm her
When she counter spelled Angwin and Fig told her thank you, she answered "Whatever. I would help you, Fi-du-du-Dad. You're not my dad. You're Fig! Right? It's an illusion. Yes. You're Fig. I know. Why would I have carried my dad here? He never carried muh... me."
Told Fig that she might need to work through some of her stuff in battle as she "elected to have a disguise that was very upsetting."
After dispelling a spell on Fig that was gonna make her run away "Dad don't leave! I mean Fig! Fig don't leave."
Was very happy to see Adaine.
Said "My friend Kristen did this" before giving Kear a loudly pronounced "Mwah" kiss to the side of her head and banishing her again
Fig: How dare you do that the Arthur Augefort!
Ayda: PLEASE STOP THAT!
Fig: I know, but see, it's intimidating for them-
Ayda: It can't possibly be helping us more than it's hurting us!
***
Location Descriptions
Ka'lethriel Tower (new details)
The tower itself is 10 stories tall and sits near a wall (with a gate) that surrounds the tower and the garden
Each floor has one room (save the top which has at least two)
The first floor holds a vault (which is normally protected by permanent magical effects) with a big locked door
There's a large gem built into the side of the tower within the vault
The vault is filled with a lot of things, including Adaine and Aelwyn's property (spellbooks, arcane focuses, and The Jacket of Useful Things), Fan-dran-goorh (Fandrangor): Sword of The North Star (long, whip thin elven sword that shines a gleaming green golden light, can talk with the voices of elvan ancestors, and once belonged to elven kings long past), a massive religious tome, a quarenteened series of top secret elven scrolls that is the research of Adaine mom, a series of notes by mom looking for the location of a temple in Sylvar (Kristen knows due to a book at the Compass Points Library), and a book on gem lore
Fire Pit Pylon
Large elvan smithy (only in looks as it's an arcane power station and not an actual forge) and worst of the two pylons
Stone, mossy covered building with a floor covered in traps and an entire infrastructure filled with a high elven adoration for magic
In the center of the building, there is a hexagonal 6 pointed room with a fire pit in the center that's so hot that it's hard to look at. The fire is golden green helix at the start (changes to purple gold with the first pitcher of water spilled into it, ruby red with the second, and out with the third. It also flickers with other energy at ruby red from the other pylon being attacked).
Surrounding the fire pit in altering positions around the 6 sided room are 3 braziers and 3 statures (each statue directly across from a brazier)
The elven statues have ornimental stone weapons on them and are holding huge alabaster pitchers of clear water which bend towards the fire pit and require a cantrip (or enough damage to break them) to dump their water
The large firy silver elven braziers are piled high with burning coal (responsible for the smoke) and are traps that conjure a monsterous fire elemental when the water from its corresponding stature spills into the fire pit or when a floor trap is triggered
***
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artyrogue · 4 years
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Blind Date Gaming: Konami GB Collection Vol. 3
Boy, I am WIPED after my date last night. It all started out as it usually does -- a quick visit to PRANG for an introduction to my next potential video game suitor. Who could have guessed that I would served up 4 dates! They all came together at once under the guise of Konami GB Collection Vol. 3.
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I was greeted at first by an anime schoolgirl with a huge hand and quite possibly a contender for the weirdest hairstyles I've seen in a while. What is that, a grass-inspired mohawk laid over top a normal haircut?
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Is this what the cows that make cowlicks eat?
What happened next was an eventful set of speed dates. This onslaught left me with no down time, thus the exhaustion. However, I did end up meeting some nice games. I'll speed through them each quick-like to keep this from being overly long. Luckily each of the games are pretty short (as expected from Game Boy games)!
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First up is Gradius II! Now, I've never actually played a Gradius game, so I can't say if this is a port, some reconfigured version of Gradius II, or what. What I CAN say is that it has tight controls, beautiful graphics, interesting bosses, and some fun gameplay.
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Looks like a rocky magic 8 ball
You start off hangin' out with what I assume are your dad and mom starships. Aww, family time! Soon, however, someone decks your old man and blasts your momma fulla lasers. Obviously disturbed, you fly forward and get chased by the perpetrator through a buncha rocks until you escape.
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Good thing this guy doesn't feel like firing at me for whatever reason
...Except you kind of don't? You end up going through a bunch of planetary landscapes, shootin' dudes and grabbin' powerups that let you fire lasers and stuff. Pew pew! You eventually get captured, break out, and summarily fly through a ship, an asteroid belt, and I think some alien's guts? I'm not sure; I never went to med school for interplanetary digestive systems. Bosses fight you at every turn, and they are so sweet. Like, I don't always know what I'm attacking, but it just looks so cool that I really don't care!
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Ever want to fight a kneeling, fanged alien stuck in a wall with detachable mouthy-brains? Yeah, well now you do, obviously!
In the end you find the enemy ship that assassinated your nuclear family with nuclear weapons, commit your own brand of galactic revenge, and I assume go on with your day in a half-arsed way, never addressing the journey you just went through for fear of sparking up some majorly weird PTSD.
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Next up is some Castlevania game! It claims to be Castlevania II, but don't think it's Simon's Quest since it doesn't have slow-scrolling text boxes telling me that night is a poor time to explore the world when suffering from a magical adversary's angry sentiments. Instead, you just go about whippin' junk. Alright, I can be a lion tamer for the undead.
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Why do cultists always gotta wear hoods? Can't they wear like a polo and some comfy slacks?
So in this installment, you can apparently shoot fireballs from a fully-upgraded whip, so it's instantly MUCH easier than most Castelvania games. The list of enemies is kind of lacking, but it was enough to feel competent. The level design was pretty spot-on, which is par for the course, though for some reason this game has a love affair with ropes? They're EVERYWHERE, but there's enough variation in the levels to give them pass. For example, some areas have auto-directional-pulling ropes, some ropes are spider webs made by enemies, some require quick sliding to avoid obstacles, etc.
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You gotta wonder, does the guy living here have to go through all these traps every day just to get his mail? And how does he carry groceries back to his (probably rope-decorated) kitchen?
The boss fights were definitely memorable. Some of their designs were flat-out brilliant, and they were all pretty fun! Your sub-weapons weren't really that useful here, but that's fine. The bosses, too, were made a little easier with the projectile whip, but the designers struck a good balance between fun and hard.
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These guys shoot out vertebrae in an arc, transferring them from one head to the other. I don't have a quip here, it was just a stupidly awesome designed boss that I wanted to gush about for a bit!
Well, perhaps I spoke too soon. The bosses were all fun except for the last 3 in the game. Allow me to whine and complain about them for a bit, if you will! The first was a tunneling snake on a forced scrolling screen that made you take damage unless you memorized where he was going to surface next (I HATE memorization-by-death gameplay). The next was a fellow Belmont who would relentlessly whip the crap outta you, throw swords all over the screen, and would probably be nigh impossible if I didn't have Holy Water. The final was Dracula, who I suppose gets a pass for being hard since he was the final boss...but he, too, was pretty much a memorization-by-death fight, too. The dude has 6 orbs revolving around him that spread out, essentially making 85% of the screen unsafe. Unless you know the specific spot to crouch down for the given position he's in, you get hurt, and you get hurt pretty badly. Oh, and you can really only hit him once per attack, so you'd better learn the safe spots for all 8 of his attack spots and hope you can hurt him and get into your safe position before taking damage.
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ouch ouch ouch OUCH
In the end, it was overall a pretty fun time. Konami definitely knows how to make a good sidescrolling action game, which is probably why they're half of the name of the 'Metroidvania' genre. Go team Belmont!
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Next up: Yie Ar Kung~Fu! What is this? I've never heard of it. It's a simple fighting game where you face off against 5 fighters, each with their own weapons and special moves. You play as a normal weaponless guy who can only kick and punch, because that's fair? Regardless, you must persevere through 4 rounds of these 5 fights, each time with your foes getting slightly harder.
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Mmyep, this is fair.
My trademark fighting game strategy of sweeping seems to work for the most part, though as the difficulty ramps up, the other fighters move with ridiculous speed between attacks. Eventually, the game just becomes 100% about approaching a foe with more range than you, which obviously is the main focus of fighting games. What's that? Combos? Pffft, those are lame, just have the enemies fly across the ring like a sugar-high Jack Russel Terrier.
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So this guy's power is to propel himself like a missile and look like an absolute goon while doing so
There's also a mini-game where you hit things thrown at you, but like they show up so quickly and your animation speed is so slow that it's impossible to do very well. It was an okay game overall, though, but I can sort of see why it isn't as well-known as Gradius or Castlevania.
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Last game: Antarctic Adventure! It's a penguin-based racing game! I think? Does this count as a racing game? Well, you race against the clock, so sure. You gotta move at top speed through an icy wasteland, avoiding sea lions and holes in the ice.
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I like how this sea lion looks after getting plastered in the face by a penguin moving at ~120 km/hr. Is he in shock? Is he alive? Should I notify his next of kin?
The lore is actually pretty deep in this game. The world has fallen into ruin due to global warming, and the glacier sheets on Antarctica are slowly melting away. As a penguin trained in espionage and terrorism, you must travel to the different embassies that many countries have propped up in an attempt to stake a claim in possibly the only livable area in the near future.
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The french are planning to build replicas of their famous landmarks here, like the Ice-full Tower and Arctic de Triomphe.
You're not exactly racing as much as you are keeping ahead of the authorities pursuing you for planting bombs in the embassies. If you successfully plant your payloads in all of the embassies across all of Antarctica, you destroy their chances of bringing cultural imperialism to the local wildlife. Your customs are at stake! You must cast your empathy aside for the greater good of penguin-kind!
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Also, you can sometimes turn into a helicopter? Not sure what that was about.
Okay, okay, yeah, I may have embellished a bit there. No, it's not as cool as that. You just run from one place to the next and heck if I'll ever find out why miscellaneous countries happen to have little castles in a barren arctic wasteland. People's taxes at work, I guess!
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Oh right, there's also a fifth option on the main menu. It's Ms. O.C. Anime Girl explaining things about the games to you. I can't read anything she's saying, though, so I can only imagine the shady koala statue in the back has some relevance to her dialogue.
So that ends an exhausting series of dates. Whew! Glad you toughed it out with me. As I've completed all of the games this time, I didn't think another date was warranted. However, Gradius and Castlevania were fun enough to say that sure, I guess, it's worth going on another date in the future. Maybe it'd be better to find the original games, though, instead of this particular port. I can only assume the extra screen real estate, better sound effects, and greater ROM size would only enhance their experiences. And speaking of experiences, grab a Sprite of Passage from the jar over there on your way out! It's mint-flavored and can double as a water purification tab if you're ever stuck somewhere in the wilderness!
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Man, I would kill to watch a skeleton ballet
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curlythenord · 4 years
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How It Began
Hey, so this is new, and weird. But I have no one to talk to about this to without annoying them, and this is basically my new and only hobby. And I like it a lot. And most of us are stuck inside anyways so why not?
Skyrim is quite a few years old, so maybe some of you have wisdom to give. Or not, and you could just hear about my faliures/achievements and laugh. Either way, this feels therapeutic in nature, and puts two things I love together. Writing and... well, Skyrim.
So, three or four weeks into quarantine, and I was already pretty out of it. I didn’t have any solid hobbies to pick from and I was waiting on amazon book deliveries. Then, Jenna Marbles posted her video “A Tour of My House In Elder Scrolls Online” and I watched it and I really liked it. She mentioned how much she liked it many times before and something about the fantasy and quests just struck a cord in my bored little heart.
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It’s like the attraction of Animal Crossing that a lot of us are having, except it’s with dragons and magic and swords. Both are still very valid.
That afternoon I downloaded Blades on my phone and played for literal hours. Something about swinging a sword and killing trolls and monsters really got to me. I wasn’t a fan of building the town and upgrading the blacksmithy but otherwise I enjoyed it. Then on Easter I kinda browsed through amazon, wondering if I could buy the game right now because of quarantine and all that. We have a ps4 at home, it’s my little brothers. I found a copy of the 2016 beautified version on Amazon, and then he went and found it on the playstation store for way less.
Soon enough I caved to my desires and I bought it. And I was immediately obssessed. I spent like an hour JUST creating my character. I wanted her face paint to be just right and her eye color was so hard to pick because I kept getting getting stuck between this hella striking blue and this really cool dark golden/hazel color. (I decided on golden) I chose Nord after debating about it for awhile, and i’m still not regretting the decision. She has really dark black hair and dope ass war paint on her eyes. I know Breton was probsbly the better choice but the Nord character hasn’t been an issue at all. I do always forget to use her war cry thougj. I think it’s because I can only use it once a day (in-game) so it makes me scared to use it. Even though days are just around 20-30 minutes long without fast travel.
Her name is Toril, which means “thunder”, and I know shes my avatar and everything but like... she’s so cool.
I chose the Warrior stone, because I genuinely just wanted to fuck shit up with a Sword. I always thought I was naturally super bad at console gaming becuase I tried playing COD before and I was terrible. Like really bad. Like propably shot myself more in the foot than I shot anyone else bad. But with Skyrim? I keep getting better each time I play. And my attack strategies are getting so much better.
My usual way to fight is a shield and a one-handed weapon. Two-handed is just too bulky and I like swords and the protection of shields. Also it just drains stamina so fast and I don’t like that. At this point I just carry Two handed weapons incase an opponent is Really hard to kill without it. I also do magic-wielding on left hand (usually restoration spells) and a one handed weapon on right. It’s prefect for combat with slow but really damaging enemies, like dragons or trolls that you can back away from.
Recently, I began dual wielding and it’s honestly so fun. I just hate how much damage I take when I do it against a group of bandits though, so I keep moving away to heal or take potions, but it’s such a fun strategy to use with dragons when they land or just against one opponent.
Anyway, the game is amazing, the characters are fun and weird and yea they’re fake but the storylines are so interesting. I decided to go with the imperial gaurd in the beginning, so I went to Riverwood, and then eventually took main residence at Whiterun. I was a little slow on joining the companions, so I used to just stay at the inn before I lived with them, but a couple days ago I saved up enough to buy the Breezehome. Both a good and bad idea because I still go back to Whiterun a lot, but my quests are now taking me farther and farther away and now I can’t really pop back in whenever I need to store an unneccesary weapon or some dragon bones.
I also hardly let myself fast travel because I really like the game for the exploring aspect. Even though the foxes have given me jumpscares multiple times with their guttural panting.
So yea. After maybe two weeks of playing I’m at level 20, and I’m guessing I’ve spent over 30 hours on the game. I play a little bit each day, but my sessions are usually 2-4 hours long and happen in the afternoon, and if I get on after my brother at 12 am i’ll usually play until 2 before I get too tired. I’ve only got like 13% done though, or at least only 13% of the achievements. My highest acheivement right now is doing alchemy though so I’m not doing great.
I’ve been focusing on the quest with Delphine and Esbern recently, and I’m at the point where I just spoke to the dragon master/teacher of the Greybeards, then spoke to Arngeir about going to Windhelm/Winterhold. I figured I might as well finally visit the college there because I wanted to improve some magicka skills without using my perks. It’s weird though, because as soon as I got back to Whiterun and then headed out to go to Windhelm, I got absolutely raided by dragon attacks.
First, one appeared outside of Whiterun, and me being the pussy I am (after getting my head bit off Multiple times) just shot arrows at it from a distance as the soldiers dealt with it, and then ran over when it was dead to absorb the soul. Then when I was past the farms and the guards tower next to Whiterun, another dragon appeared. I used the Whirlwind sprint to stay next to it’s wing to keep it from biting my damn head off, then used some restoration spells when it was in the air, and dual wielded (when I could attack it) with the Dawnbreaker and this enchanted sword I found at the Sky Haven Temple that deals extra damage when attacking dragons. Absorbed that soul and headed on up to the snowy mountainous area that was on the way to Windhelm.
After dealing with a couple asshole white bears and some whisps, I hear a dragon and absolutely lose it. Why was I suddenly getting bombarded?? I decided to sneak on this one, and got my bow and arrow out. Eventually I got close enough to see not one, but TWO goddamn dragons, before realizing it was Alduin raising one to life (and realized he was salty because I was trying to destroy him by getting the Elder Scroll). Eventually I managed to kill it, still using Whirlwind sprint, healing spells, and dual-wielding. Plus some potions too.
I had to try a couple times for each of these by the way. Even with the second dragon I kept forgetting to save once I was a mildly-annoying-distance-to-repeatedly-walk away from Whiterun, which sucked but it’s whatever. I learned my lesson though and started remembering to save.
I got to Windhelm, which was weird territory because it’s run by Stormcloaks, and had to physically restrain myself from pummeling this drunk guy while he talked down to a Dark Elf and accused her of being a spy because she wasn’t a Nord. Also sometimes guards that aren’t from Whiterun will call me a thief (I unnsuccesfully tried to help out the guy who told me about Esbern’s hideout back in Riften) and it’s a lil annoying because I try really hard to make my character a decently good person. Sucks though because one of the achievements is joining the Thieves Guild and though I don’t necessarily want to do that, I’m gonna eventually unless I create a new character, which I don’t wanna do yet because I like mine too much.
Anyways this is already really long. I’m making another post to talk about my current opinion on choosing between Imperials and the Stormcloaks. If you have any tips, or questions, comment them! Or send me an anon, either is fine. I could literally rave about Skyrim for hours, as you have probably seen. Thanks for reading!
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author-morgan · 5 years
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Phobia ☤ Alexios
five - on the shores of fate
masterlist
“Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier; I have seen worse sights than this.”
Fate decrees two kindred souls from two different empires will find one another, and the spear shall be made whole again.
THE BEACHES OF Samos are among the most beautiful to Irene –especially when enjoyed with a skin of famed Samian wine. Dionysus surely blessed the vineyards and vintners of the island. Indeed, the merchant had exclaimed after offering Irene a taste of the previous year's vintage. She'd compared it to ambrosia. If the Olympian Gods drank nectar, it would be Samian wine!
A golden eagle lands on a piece of driftwood, clutching a large fish in its talons. The bird tears a hunk from the writhing bakallaros, swallows, then turns its piercing eyes to Irene. "Ikaros!" A voice calls on the wind. The eagle looks up, scans the cove then returns to its feast, though Irene is not so eager to forget the call.
"Ikaros!" The voice calls again, closer than before. A man steps from the trees onto the white sand, gaze flicking from Ikaros to a woman. She is standing with sword and spear in hand, face set in grim determination. "How did you come by that?" He asks, pointing at the broken spear in her hand. It bears an odd resemblance to the one he carries.
Her kopis is still splattered with blood from a mercenary who attempted to collect on a bounty prior in the day. She has no qualm about mixing it with the blood of another. "Don't come any closer," Irene tells him, raising the spear and sword.
"Who are you?" The man asks. Ignoring her warning, he takes another step. After the people he's fought today, she looks about as dangerous as a wolf cub.
"No one of importance," she answers –tone sharp. He shakes his head and sighs. Irene looks between the man and eagle that now perches on his shoulder. There are rumors among the islands of a misthios and a tamed golden eagle. Until now, they have always seemed like just that, rumors and legends though she is reluctant to believe he is more than just a man. "You're the Eagle Bearer," Irene notes, lowering her weapons but not her defenses.
The man crosses his arms, shrugs. "Perhaps, but most call me Alexios." He offers his name in hopes she will tell him hers, but Irene remains silent. "Who are you?" He asks again.
"Someone far from home," she quips, not willing to relinquish her identity so easily to a stranger –a misthios no less. It doesn't matter if he is the mythical Eagle Bearer, he still kills for drachmae.  
"Enough riddles!" His voice rumbles with anger. He is annoyed and tired and wants answers. "How do you have that fucking spear?!"
Irene lifts her chin, grip tightening on sword and spear. She does not wish for the day to end in bloodshed. "I don't know you, and I cannot trust you, thus I cannot tell you."
Alexios steps closer to the small fire and Ikaros takes to the sky –his features are sharpened with dark shadows cast by dancing flames. He wants answers but Herodotus' words echo in his head. Don't forget, brute force is useless when finesse is required. It seemed a common trait for women to require finesse. "What will it take for you to trust me?"
She ponders the question. There is something she could use the extra muscle for –the task doesn't necessarily warrant trust, though. "I'm hunting Eurymedon," Irene announces. Alexios is surprised by the mention of the Athenian strategos. "He's put a hefty bounty on my head," she explains. Two thousand drachmae for the person who brings her to him, alive and unharmed. The general meant to teach her a lesson in respect –she shudders at the thought.
He raises his brow –clearly questioning the reason why she is looking for such an esteemed general. Irene flushes as she remembers Eurymedon's actions in the Temple of Hera. "I turned down his drunken advances. Broke his nose and dignity." In retrospect, she should have broken a lot more than his nose for the things he said and did.
Alexios laughs –there is a spark in her. He finds it alluring. "If I help you find him, will you tell me your name?"
THE HERAION TREASURY is heavily fortified, though by night most of the guards are sleeping in barracks or at their posts. They move like shadows, working in the dark. Alexios has fought side-by-side with people before, but no one has ever moved like her. She is steps ahead of enemies, as quick as Hermes and deadly as Ares.
He kicks a corpse from his sword and looks over his shoulder to see Irene pushing her broken spear through the neck of a guard from behind. She steps in front of the man before he falls and pulls the spear out the other side of his neck. Grace and brutality have never mixed until now.
Eurymedon retracts the bounty, swears it was a mistake and vows it will never happen again, nor will he speak of what happened this night under pain of death. Irene isn't sure if her harsh words are what drove him to the decision or the knife Alexios holds at his neck. Either way, she tosses the scrolls promising payment for her return into a smoldering hearth.
For the time, Irene has made a small cave her residence. It sits half-hidden beneath a waterfall in the forest and is only accessible by a slim strip of stone bordering the pool and cliff-face. It is a shallow cave filled with trinkets from previous inhabitants. Embers burn red and orange in iron braziers.
Irene discards her sword, glances down at the dried blood on her hands and arms. "What do I owe you for your services?" She asks –there was always some caveat to receiving the help of a sellsword.
Alexios laughs. She was more than capable of carving her way through the treasury guards and convincing the general of his error. "Answers," he replies, crossing his arms. "Who are you?" He inquires for the third time. Something about her is familiar –like a waking dream.
She draws in a slow breath, having given her word to the Eagle Bearer. "The bastard daughter of Amytis and Apollonides of Kos," Irene tells him.
He looks uncertain, but her fear and apprehension are enough assurance she speaks the truth. "You are descended from Xerxes?" He asks, bewildered. People have claimed to be descendants of the Persian king before, but she is the first person he believes.
She nods –wondering if she had just made a mistake by speaking of her heritage, but she is tired of being nobody, of having to craft cleverly told lies. "My name is Irene."
A smile tugs at his lips as he leans back on his hands. "Goddess of Peace," Alexios muses –to him she looks like war and chaos. As if Athena, Aphrodite, and Eris all had a hand in crafting her. "Funny name for a Persian."
As a naïve girl, she didn't understand how one person could create peace. Truthfully, Irene still doesn't understand what she is meant to do. Vengeance drives her now. "Hydarnes told me my mother hoped I could bring some semblance of unity between our nations." The princess glances across the fire at Alexios –he looks like someone driven by vengeance too. She holds out the broken spear. "This is the spear of Leonidas."
He reaches behind him, frees the other half of the broken spear from his quiver and lays it across her folded legs. "I know," Alexios replies. The end he possesses is larger and more ornate, with a single fuller of bronze running down the center of the spearhead. The misthios picks up the other half, runs his finger along the blade's edge –it tries to bite into his skin.
Wordlessly they fit the broken ends together. A jolt of power shocks them both. Irene's eyes flick up to meet his. The boy on the mountain. Alexios sits back on his haunches in disbelief. The girl on the ship. They both want, no need to know more. After a heavy silence, he speaks. "I sail for Athens," he tells her, "and there's always room for another fighter aboard my ship."
Her business on Samos is now complete, and it has been far too long since she had last returned to Attika. Besides, sailing with the Eagle Bearer is likely more eventful than traveling via the Athenian fleet. "Very well," she replies. They will depart at dawn to return to the ship and then Athens.
Irene rises and sheds the outermost pieces of her armor, begins walking toward the cave's entrance and waterfall. Alexios clears his throat when she unfastens the closures of her chiton. "What are you doing?" He asks, caught off-guard by her libertine display.
The princess looks back over her shoulder, holding her robes in place. "First impressions are important to me. I may be a fighter, but I am still a woman." She does not enjoy being covered in filth or having dried blood beneath her nails. It would be a shame if Alexios' crew mistook her for just a cut-throat. "Look away, misthios," Irene instructs, stepping out of the puddle of linen at her feet and into the water.
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spyder-m · 5 years
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Cloti Fall Festival, Day Three: Liquid Confidence
Summary: College AU. Zack wants Cloud to loosen up and forget studying for just one night. He coerces him into a night of drinking, hoping it'll give him the courage to talk to his long-time crush, Tifa. Things go about as well as you might expect. 
A/N:  I struggled to finish this, even with the extra time I took. It isn't beta'd, so I'm sorry if there are any glaring errors. Still, I hope you enjoy it! I have a couple more stories in the works for the Cloti Fall Festival. Hopefully, I'll be able to get those done without as many issues.
Ao3 / FF.net
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The Avalanche bar at Midgar University wasn’t typically the place students went when they were planning to study.
Most tended to favour the library, or one of the many cafes on Campus; somewhere quiet, where they wouldn’t have trouble concentrating.
Cloud, however, liked the atmosphere of the bar on weeknights. It was a small, hole-in-the-wall place often overlooked for the fancier clubs in the city. The few patrons there were looking for nothing more than to unwind after a full day of classes.
Their murmured conversation, the steady, trickle of liquid into pint glasses, the low static of the television all built a comforting white noise, easy enough for him to drown out, but not all-consuming and uncomfortable like the deathly silence of the library.
Cloud wasn't fond of the silence. It made him feel alone, reminded him of the harsh isolation he had endured in his childhood.
The fact that the bar wasn't used by many others for studying, was also a plus. As it was free from the palpable stress radiating off of over students, frantically cramming over their notes as they prepped for exams, trying to savour the last-minute knowledge.
Cloud found a relaxed atmosphere much more conducive to learning.
At least, that was the reason Cloud would give anyone who asked.
In truth, there was something else that swayed heavily in the bar's favour.
Nursing a beer, Cloud scrolled through the Gallery on his laptop. Having recently travelled to Midgar’s coastline over the weekend, he was hoping to build up his portfolio some more with some of the photographs he'd taken of the sea, the Western Continent lingering over the horizon.
His gaze flickered from the screen momentarily at the sound of a light, familiar voice, waking pleasant tingles up his spine.
His childhood crush, Tifa Lockhart.
She was laughing behind the bar with her co-workers and friends, Jessie, Biggs and Wedge, the lull in customers affording her a moment's break. The bright smile crossing her features shone, carrying over the room's dim lighting like a beacon.
Cloud couldn't help but want to be a part of that conversation, to be the one drawing laughter from her, to have that intimate place in her life. Yet, much like the child who had admired from afar; he was frozen, rooted in place by hesitation.
It was strange how little things between them had changed, even after the years that had passed.
Cloud had joined Soldier at a young age, leaving school in order to pursue a dream, a better life as part of their elite First Class. Overlooking the town blanketed by starlight, his parting words to Tifa; at her insistence; had been a vow to rescue her should she ever find herself in a bind.
Much to his dismay, Cloud had fallen far from the mark of 1st Class, instead having to settle for grinding among their lower ranks, hoping that something would come of his hard work, not wanting to return home a failure. Yet, he found himself discharged shortly after the Wutai War had ended, worried about the direction his life would take now.
His entire plan had been hinged upon him making First Class, his young, optimistic mind had never devised a plan B, never considering the possibility that he might fail.
Cloud couldn’t return to Nibelheim, he knew that much. As much as he cherished his mother and Tifa, he had always been isolated in that village. It had never been a home.
Besides, he didn’t want to be a burden to his mother, who had struggled to raise him alone. He wanted to provide for her now. To work and eventually earn enough money to find a home for her outside of Nibelheim, somewhere she would be appreciated.
Yet, being thrust abruptly back into society, after having only after known life as a Soldier infantryman, made that difficult.
Cloud suddenly couldn’t help but feel underqualified compared to others his age. Those that had left for Midgar in pursuit of jobs or apprenticeships.
The prospect of finding stable work seemed dim to Cloud. The skills he had gained working for Shinra didn’t exactly translate to many other industries. What business would want to hire someone inexperienced like him, when they could likely pay less to someone younger and equally as qualified?
Cloud supposed he could always collect bounties fighting monsters, but it lacked the security of a regular job. Much of his earnings would likely end up going towards potions and weapon maintenance, anyway.
Fortunately, it was around this time, that Cloud discovered that, in recognition of their services, ex-Solider members could apply for a scholarship through Midgar U.
Cloud had leapt at the opportunity, an idea already in mind for what his major could be.
Throughout his time working under Shinra, Cloud had developed an interest in photography. As a young man travelling the world for the first time, Cloud had excitedly taken pictures of the different places he saw.
Knowing that they might not be stationed for long and weren't there as tourists; he wanted to at least commemorate the moment, taking photographs to send home to his mother.
Over time, Cloud came to develop a fondness for the hobby. He found tinkering with the camera kept him sane through the hours spent travelling or patrolling. After years of blind trial and error, the idea of taking classes and receiving the proper guidance from experts in the field excited him.
He had never considered the hobby something a career could branch from.
When he signed up for Midgar U, the last he expected was to find Tifa working at the University's bar, Avalanche.
Yet when he had stopped by one day, in the hope of getting directions around the Campus, he had been met by familiar, amber eyes of the bartender.
Tifa, the one who had been a significant motivation behind his joining Soldier.
The revelation had struck him in a mess of emotion. His heart warmed to see her again, yet dread churned in his stomach as he remembered his promise to her, and how, because of his shortcomings, it would remain unfulfilled.
He couldn't tell if their chance reunion had been the best, or worst, thing to happen.
The thought of avoiding the bar, and her, altogether flashed briefly through his mind, lingering long enough to elicit a stabbing sensation through his chest.
He knew he didn't have the strength to actively push away someone he cared about. His heart was drawn back to the building, a pleasant flutter coming over him each time he entered and she called his name.
There was no way he would be able to stomach lying to her. His resolve would shatter beneath those warm, ruby eyes.
Instead, he endeavoured to steer clear of the subject, keeping their conversations as brief as possible.
She would wave to him with a warm smile as he took out his laptop and camera. He sat in the corner booth, just out of her line of sight as she would busy herself with preparing drinks. That way, he could look up from his work every so often, and quickly steal a glance without her noticing.
For Cloud, it was a perfect arrangement.
He could be in her company, without having to stomach any of the awkward conversations he knew would inevitably come up. Where had he been all those years? Why hadn’t he ever come back to Nibelheim? Had he made Soldier?
She couldn’t know that he had failed to make 1st Class. That, in spite of his training and the lengths he went to, his only success had been as a lowly infantryman. She couldn’t know that everything her father had said about him had been right.
Even when he had been stationed in Nibelheim alongside Zack and Sephiroth, Cloud had kept his helmet on and spent most of his time hidden inside the Inn. It wouldn't have helped his ego to stand alongside two, for all their famed accomplishments.
In the rare instances that he and Tifa shared any kind of lasting conversation, Cloud was always careful to keep the discussion around her; reasoning that as a bartender, she spent enough time listening to others.
To his surprise, Tifa had seemed touched by the gesture.
He learned that outside of bartending, she was making extra cash babysitting her boss’ daughter and teaching self-defence classes at the nearby gym. Cloud had recalled her mentioning in passing wanting to study under Zangan, a martial arts master who had lived in their village.
From the way he’d seen her arms flex carrying trays laden with drinks, it shouldn’t have surprised him.
She was studying a combined degree of business and health science and expressed ambitions of one day opening a place of her own. Perhaps a bar, or maybe a dojo where she could pass Zangan’s teachings onto a new generation. She hadn’t decided yet.
The details Cloud revealed about himself were curt. He was a photography major. He picked up freelance mechanical and courier work to cover his expenses and was hoping to one day save enough money to buy himself a motorcycle.
No mention of Soldier.
No reference to the promise they had once made.
To his surprise, Tifa seemed to respect the distance he placed between them, only delving as deep as he would comfortably allow.
Things were probably for the best that way.
From what he could gather, Tifa didn't need a hero anymore. She was more than capable of handling herself.
Cloud stretched his arms over his head, sighing amidst the satisfying crack of his joints. Leaning back over his keyboard, Cloud suddenly felt his body slump forward under an unexpected pressure against his neck and shoulders. Reflexively, his hands rose to brace against the table, almost knocking over his drink.
“Figured I’d find you here.”
"Argh!" Cloud grunted. "Damnit, Zack! Get off me."
Having a good six inches of height over Cloud, he often served a makeshift armrest for his friend; much to his frustration. His considerably bulk didn't make fighting him off any easier. Eventually, Cloud managed to find purchase against the man's solid chest, pushing him aside. He levelled Zack with a cold glare as they separated.
"Aw, I'm happy to see you too, Cloud."
Cloud had been assigned to Zack’s battalion in Soldier, and Zack had taken him under his wing, seeing much of himself in the young, fresh-faced recruit.
On the surface, the comparison might have seemed puzzling. Zack was proud and confident, easy-going, and got along with most people he met, while Cloud kept to himself, tending to focus his efforts more on training and studying.
Still, having grown up as only children in backwater towns, they had long sought the companionship they found in one another; becoming something more akin to brothers than a mentor and protege.
"What are you doing here?"
“What?" Zack feigned innocence. "I was just in the neighbourhood, so I figured I’d see what my best bud was up to.”
“Aerith’s busy, huh?”
“Study night.” Zack groaned, collapsing in the booth besides Cloud. “Her mid-terms are coming up soon and she said I was too much of a distraction.”
“Really?” Cloud scoffed, hands gesturing over the pages of notes strewn about his table. “I can’t possibly imagine.”
“I know, right?”
Expression blank, Cloud held Zack's gaze in silence.
“You’re too serious, Cloud,” Zack whined. “Come on man, when’s the last time you hung out with someone?”
“I hang out with Vincent all the time.”
“Vincent doesn’t count! You guys barely say two words to each other.”
“Hmm, you’re right. No wonder I prefer his company.”
“Ouch, Cloud. That’s cold.” Zack held a hand over in chest in mock hurt. Yet, his lips quickly twisted into a smirk, one that sparked dread in Cloud.
Zack's voice lowered as he nudged his elbow against his friend's ribs.
“Though, speaking of company you prefer.”
Brow pinching together, Cloud glanced to his right at the sound of approaching footsteps. Heat flared in his cheeks as he noticed Tifa approaching their table.
“Here you are Cloud!” Tifa announced, setting a brightly coloured cocktail before him.
“Oh, I uh- I didn’t-”
“It’s on the house." She beamed. "Barrett’s letting me come up with new drinks for the menu. I wanted to get a second opinion I could trust.”
Her head dipped towards his beer, lukewarm and untouched.
“You’ve been sitting on that one for a while, so I get the feeling you aren’t a fan of bitter stuff.”
Cloud flushed. In all honesty, he hadn't intended on drinking anything, yet felt it would have been rude if used their space and didn’t order anything. So, he always opted to ask for the first thing he saw on the menu.
Tifa; in a gesture so selfless and innately her; mistook this for him lacking a taste for, or knowledge of alcohol, and had freely made him a drink she thought he would prefer.
It was no wonder he’d been in love with her since he was fourteen.
She pushed the glass toward him.
“Here. This has pomegranate juice in it. I hear that’s good for brain power.”
“O- oh, right." Cloud said, opening his hand to take the drink. "Thanks, Tifa.”
Their fingers touched briefly as she passed the drink over, the fleeting contact sparking through his body.
Zack smiled knowingly as the two held each other in silence.
“You know, Tifa,” Zack’s voice broke Cloud from his reverie. From the gleam in his eyes and distinct lilt in his voice, Cloud knew that he was turning up the charm. “I’m quite thirsty myself. Are there any other drinks that you would like to test out?”
Tifa folded the tray under her arms, hand stroking against her chin. Zack's suave wiles having seemingly little effect on her.
"Y'know, I probably shouldn't. I can't imagine Aerith would be happy to hear you were charming other women into getting free drinks, Zack."
Zack swallowed, the smile that crossed his features a little forced, nervous.
"Well, I should be heading back. Don't work too hard, okay Cloud?" Tifa said, voice and air morphing with genuine concern, as she lightly touched his shoulder.
Cloud nodded, fingers tracing the pattern of the coaster before him with sudden, avid interest.
Once Tifa had begun tending to another table, a safe distance away, Zack chuckled, watching his friend practically shrink back into the booth. The fleeting, affection gesture having left him tongue-tied and visibly flustered.
“You know, if it’s so hard for you to talk to her, a little liquid courage goes a long way,” Zack said, tapping the glass still resting between Cloud's fingers.
“I’m trying to keep a clear head,” Cloud answered, turning his attention back to the screen in front of him.
“Then why order anything? It’s a bar!”
“I can’t just… Not order anything.” Cloud flushed, his voice gradually trailing off. “That’d be weird.”
“But coming here under the flimsy pretence of studying just so you can look at the girl you like; yeah, totally normal.”
Cloud winced. “Don’t… phrase it like that.”
"Hey, Jessie!" Zack's voice abruptly rose, calling one of the other bartenders with a snap of his fingers. "Bring us something hard, yeah?"
"Z- Zack! What are you doing?!"
“Trust me Cloud, I’m just looking out for you.”
"I somehow doubt that."
"C'mon man, live a little!" Zack's exclaimed. "You were with Soldier for six years! You've already lost your teenage years to drills and missions. Now you gonna spend your twenties studying? You’re wasting your youth!”
“I'm on a scholarship, I need to keep my grades up. You know this Zack.”
“Aren’t you in the top percent for most of your classes? Come on, Cloud! Your grades aren’t going to suffer because you took one night off. Don't be such a Chocobo."
Cloud glared, his hand subconsciously running through messy, blond spikes; hoping they would for once rest in a way that didn't invite such comparisons.
“I’m not scared of anything, Zack. I just don’t want to, I-”
"Kweh."
Cloud trailed off, his mouth hanging open, indignant. Zack watched him, stare mischievous and challenging as he continued to wark. Like a Chocobo.
“Real mature, Zack.” Cloud sighed, reaching to clasp one of the shot glasses. “How old are you again?”
“23,” Zack winked, clinking his glass against Cloud’s own. “Now drink up.”
.
Closing time was soon approaching.
The night had been slow and Tifa had retreated momentarily to the break room, wanting a chance to catch up on some of the readings for her next class.
Though Jessie, Biggs and Wedge were still learning the ropes of the job, she was confident they could run the bar smoothly in her absence. Beyond their usual regulars, the only one there was Zack, and he had been ordering shots; easy enough to handle.
On nights like this, when it wasn't particularly busy, Barrett would sometimes let them do coursework; reasoning it was better than just standing around to nothing.
It was one of the perks of working here.
Though, admittedly, Tifa had been having difficulty concentrating; her focus drifting away from the pages before her book to thoughts of Cloud.
It made sense, she supposed. Seeing him working so hard each night had motivated her not to slack off on her own studies, in the first place. His determination was something she admired and had always driven her to improve herself.
It had helped give her the confidence to start training under Zangan, to travel to Midgar and go to University, to aspire to start her own business.
She’d found it odd, initially, that he chose a bar, of all places, to study, but... it did suit him in a way.
Even as a child, Cloud had always done things his own way. Much of his time had been spent alone, not playing with the other boys. Even when they all left for Midgar to take on jobs and apprenticeships, Cloud had aimed to join Soldier.
Tifa paused, the memory stirring something within her; the root of what was troubling her.
Soldier.
Whenever they spoke, Cloud seemed to avoid speaking about what he'd between now and his leaving for Midgar. Namely, of whether or not he'd managed to join Soldier.
It was strange that he would gloss over such an important detail. Cloud had never really bee one for gloating, but Soldier had been a goal he was determined to achieve, a dream he'd invested so much in. If he'd been accepted by Shinra, he surely would have been proud to share the news.
Yet, he'd never even written. Leading her to wonder if perhaps he hadn't made it, after all.
Still, Tifa wasn't quite so sure.
For one, Cloud was friends with Zack Fair, the 1st Class who had patrolled their hometown years ago. Good friends, it seemed. That was reason enough for her to think he must have some connection to Soldier.
Unless she was overthinking things? He'd mention working courier jobs before. Was it possible he just had a regular delivery route above the plate?
At times, Tifa couldn't help but succumb to that small, insidious part of herself, taunting that Cloud never cared to share the news with her, because he had moved on. No longer concerned with her or the promise they had made.
Tifa sighed, lounging back in her seat, silently conceding that her attempts to study weren't going anywhere.
She'd just have to be patient.
She didn’t want to pry, after all.
Stretching her arms above her head and closing up her textbook, Tifa fished through her pockets for the bar's keys, ready to start closing up.
She was interrupted by the door swinging wildly open as Biggs slipped through, not quite managing to mask the frantic look in his eyes.
His expression alone told Tifa all she needed, even before Biggs could settle on the right words with which to explain himself. There was a problem, and he had been the one to draw the short straw, to have to break the news to her.
Tifa folded her arms, weighing Biggs down with a sharp glance. Swallowing, Biggs' hand flicked through his hair.
“Yo, Tifa," he stumbled. "You, uh... you might want to check on your friends.”
“Huh?"
Dipping his head towards the bar, Tifa followed him out, curious. Immediately her eyes were drawn to the slumped heaps of Cloud and Zack, surrounded by empty shot glasses.
Cloud must have passed out; his eyes closed and steady breaths rising from his chest; while Zack struggled to his feet, grasping onto the table for support.
"I thought I told you guys to cut them off.”
“Yeah, that’s what we did. But... Well, apparently Jessie is quite fond of Blondie. His friend’s a real charmer too. He's been talking her into giving them extra drinks all night."
Tifa frowned. She had only been teasing, but apparently, Zack had taken exception to her words. She sighed, massaging the bridge of her nose.
"We're going to have to get them out of here. Barrett won't be happy if he finds out about this."
"Yeah, you're right." Tifa nodded, approaching the booth.
"Alright, buddy," Biggs said, grabbing Zack's arm and throwing it over his shoulder. "Time for you to get going."
"S'alright. I-" Zack hiccupped, holding up his PHS. "I knew you were closin' soon."
Aerith slipped through the entrance to the bar not long after, her head bowed apologetically as she met Tifa's gaze. Smirking, Tifa's head dipped towards Zack's crumpled form, and Aerith rolled her eyes, fondly.
Noticing her approach, Zack's face lit up, ecstatic finally managed to pry his girlfriend away from her study session.
"Aer!" He exclaimed. "You came!"
Aerith stumbled as Zack collapsed against her waist, dragging Biggs with him as his arms surrounded her. Straining beneath her boyfriend’s body weight, Aerith offered a sheepish smile.
"I hope these two weren't giving you too much trouble."
"I’ll help you get them home." Biggs said, standing back upright and helping to support Zack, leaving Tifa to deal with Cloud.
Compared to some of the other patrons Tifa had to help escort out, in his drunken state, Cloud actually looked rather endearing. The soft flush colouring his pale cheeks, his hair looking even more tousled than normal, falling into his eyes.
Shaking her head, Tifa slipped partway into the booth, her arms wrapping around Cloud’s waist as she slowly extracted him.
Years of training under Zangan and regularly lugging around crates filled with alcohol had helped Tifa build her strength, and she was able to support his weight with less difficulty than Aerith and Biggs were having with Zack.
Though, Cloud's slighter build and height made it easier, his chin resting comfortably against the top of her head.
“Alright, Cloud. Let’s get you home.”
“Teef. ‘M sorry,” Cloud slurred, her voice apparently stirring him.
“It’s alright, Cloud. I have a feeling this wasn’t your fault.”
"No, not that." Cloud's head lulled to the side. Intrigued, Tifa's eyes scanned to the side, wordlessly, pressing him to continue.
"I always end up on relying on you... Couldn't keep my promise."
Though his words were vague, Tifa couldn't suppress the flash of hope they sparked in her; the want to know that he still remembered, that he still cared about that pledge they had made together.
"W- what do you mean?" Tifa asked, trying to contain the urgency in her voice.
She flinched through the tense, passing seconds that followed, her question hanging unanswered.
The alcohol had loosened Cloud up, to the extent that he was revealing more than he would normally be comfortable with. Something she could only hope to uncover through gentle coaxing.
Tifa realised, with a pang of guilt, that she may have been pushing too far. It wasn't fair for her to take advantage of Cloud's inebriated state like that.
In a flash of clarity, Cloud must have realised his mistake, as he had fallen into embarrassed silence.
Glancing through her periphery, she tried to catch of glimpse of Cloud's face; trying to discern something, anything from his expression.
His head slumped against her shoulder, dead weight.
“Cloud? Cloud?!”
.
Cloud was relieved to find himself in his bedroom when he woke the following morning. Woozy, and head weighing down the rest of his body like an anchor, but otherwise fine.
Pushing the shirts aside, he realised he was still wearing his clothes from last night, though his boots were resting at the edge of the bed. He cringed noticing the dark, sticky patches staining his shirt. Hopefully, those were just beer.
Sitting up, Cloud rummaged through his jean pockets, relieved to find his keys, wallet and PHS. His laptop and notes were piled neatly on his desk.
Glancing at the clock on his bedside table, it was shortly before noon, though Cloud's schedule was, fortunately, empty for the day. He wasn't sure how eager he would have been to turn up to class today, looking like he'd fallen out of a tree.
Still, for as much as he had dreaded what may have come of him given in to Zack's pressure, Cloud supposed things could have turned out worse.
Nothing particularly egregious, from the night before, stuck out to him. He just hoped they hadn't made things difficult for Tifa.
Rolling from his bed and, unsteadily, onto his feet. Cloud shuffled out of his bedroom in search of Zack.
Despite begrudging him for putting them in the situation to begin with, he wanted to make sure his friend had returned home safely.
“Zack?” Cloud called as he padded blindly into the kitchen.
“Oh, good morning, Cloud!” An all too cheery, feminine voice answered.
The blinds were closed, only the thinnest stream of light breaking through the gaps in the shutters. Aerith stood over their kitchen table, a vision of immaculately tied hair and bright pastel colours, as she tended to a bleary-eyed, dishevelled Zack.
His hands were clasped firmly around a glass filled with a questionable looking green substance; a herbal concoction of Aerith's, perhaps?
“Aerith, please.” Zack moaned pitifully; voice muffled against the tabletop. “Not so loud.”
“Don’t mind him, Cloud.” Aerith said as she massaged her boyfriend's shoulders. “Someone’s just cranky because they have a headache.”
"Oh, I don't mind. At all." Cloud replied, making sure to scrap his chair legs as loudly as possible against the floor as he sat down. "It's not often Zack's the one asking for quiet. I like it."
Zack's gaze lifted, his face twisting angrily at Cloud.
It was rare for Zack to be in a sour mood, so much so that Cloud sometimes forgot he even was capable of it.
“How come you aren’t in as bad shape as I am?” Zack accused.
“Because I actually took precautions. Drinking water, eating. If I had to suffer through this, the least I could do was make sure you ended up worse than I did.”
“That’s it. None of Aerith’s Miracle Hangover Cure for you." Zack pouted, cradling the glass protectively against his chest. "Not until you show some sympathy."
"Why don't I get us started on some breakfast, hm? Fried food's good for a hangover, right?"
Aerith moved into the kitchen, rummaging through their cabinets for a pan; a racket of clatters that left Zack wincing. Her search was halted by a knock at the door, so light and tentative it was almost drowned out by the ensuing noise.
"Huh. I wonder who that could be?" Aerith asked, eyes meeting Cloud's.
With a shrug, Cloud rose to his feet. Despite not feeling in the slightest bit presentable for visitors, his hand clenched around the doorknob. The lash of cool air from the open door was refreshing, but the relief it brought was short-lived, as Cloud noticed who was standing on the other side.
"Tifa?"
"Cloud."
Cloud's hand brushed over his mess of hair, suddenly conscious of how haggard he, likely, looked.
It was startling how Tifa awoke these insecurities in him.
Still, he supposed anyone would have felt self-conscious, watching her standing radiantly before in the sunlight.
Behind them, Aerith clasped her hands together, watching on with apparent rapt fascination. Even Zack had found the strength to lift his head. Cloud turned with a glare.
"Oh, uh... Don't mind us."
Rolling his eyes, Cloud stepped out through the front door, closing it behind the prying eyes of his friends. With his head swimming and a swirl of nerves tickling in his belly, it was already difficult enough for him to form a coherent sentence; he didn't need an audience.
"Sorry about... them."
"It's fine," Tifa chuckled, the soft peals plucking delicately at Cloud's heart. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine, I guess. Zack got off way worse, but Aerith's taking of him."
"Really? That's a relief. You both looked like you were in a bad way last night. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."
Sheepish, Cloud hand wrung at his neck, his eyes tracing over the doorframe. Tifa dealt with drunk patrons on a regular basis. For her to be concerned, they must have been in especially rough shape.
Still, he couldn't help but relish in the hearing that she had worried about him. Perhaps it was that flash of familiar comfort that kept him speaking.
"I guess in the end you were the one to help me out a bind, huh?" Cloud answered, the words slipping easily from his tongue.
"W- what did you say?"
Tensing, Cloud realised he'd caught himself a moment too late. As Tifa looked to him, those same captivating eyes seemed younger; wide and hopeful.
"I thought you had forgotten."
Honestly, nothing could have been further from the truth. The memory was something that hung over Cloud, a constant reminder of how he had failed, how he would never be good enough for her.
Yet at the same time, it was something he cherished; a connection between them that had not been severed by even time or distance. A thread that had pulled them back together.
Unsure of exactly how to express those thoughts spiralling through his head; of what she meant to him; Cloud simply shook his head.
"You don't need anyone to rescue you, Tifa. You don’t need me anymore."
Frowning, Tifa folded her arms.
"That doesn’t mean I don't want you to be part of my life."
Cloud glanced up, disbelief flashing across his features.
"Really?"
Tifa’s expression softened, offering a silent, reassuring nod.
Cloud exhaled, his hand sliding over his face.
"I'm sorry, I'm an idiot."
"So, I'll see you at the bar then?"
Cloud grimaced, hands wiping unconsciously over the stains in his jeans.
“Tifa, don’t take this wrong way, but I’m not sure I can stomach going back to Avalanche for a while.”
“Oh,” Tifa answered, her voice faint as her gaze lowered. Cloud's eyes widened, conscious suddenly of his word choice.
“No!" His hands rose, waving back and forth desperately. "S- sorry. What I mean is, why don’t we meet somewhere else? Without Zack. Just you and I.”
"Oh." Tifa replied, her own cheeks tinging pink. "I- I think I'd like that."
"Really? I mean, that’s great!"
Tifa's head dipped slightly at the enthusiasm taking over his voice. The thick, dark locks of her hair, obscuring the flush that spread across her face. They watched one another, her smile bashful, apprehensive, as if weighing over something in her mind.
"W- well, I guess I'll see you around." She said, eventually, her arms opening as she stepped towards him.
Any worries Cloud may have still held dissipated at the soft pressure of Tifa’s body leaning into him, warm and solid and strong. The fragrant scent carrying from her was homely, clearing the haze that still clouded his consciousness. His hand cradled her head, tentatively, his fingers tracing through her hair. He exhaled, content.
Though Cloud wasn’t exactly pleased with how he’d gone about it, he couldn’t deny that Zack had really helped him out.
Somehow, he had managed to bridge the gap between him and Tifa. Something that Cloud, with his apprehension, would have likely never achieved on his own.
As much as he hated to admit it, Zack had been right. Perhaps he should go out more often.
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