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physicalturian · 3 years

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[G] Gentle summer - Rengoku Kyojuro x GN!Reader - Part 8

[Contains spoilers from the movie, and the manga] [No pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18]

Words : 8662

Archive of our own

Warning : mention of suicide (follows the manga, you might know which one) mention of fear of dying

— Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

On the morning following the moving night I had with Rengoku, we had to wake up early to train but managed to have breakfast together. Everything seemed different and yet, nothing had changed. Everyone around us was still training, diligently so, never stopping until they would fall exhausted on the ground. People would come and go from the place to get ready under different Pillars than those who had stayed at the Butterfly estate. Rengoku and I were the starting point of the training, we were the ones to get everyone slowly acclimated to the fighting, but it was only a matter of time before they were sent to coach under Uzui to better their stamina. Oh, and the look of pure horror on their faces when they would return from those days of training, face long and muscles sore.

Those who would train with Gyomei were too far away to return to this estate and would stay at a nearby place, along with recruits that would train with Mitsuri. More traumatized trainees would come back from Obanai’s training, their gaze devoid of any emotions as they’d shiver at the mere mention of the Pillar in question. I had heard his method was drastic to say the least, mortifying if I listened to those who would return to the mansion at the end of the day. On the first day I had returned, I realized that this was no simple training; something was at stake, they had to improve, they hadto get better by the end of this or they would not last a fight with Muzan and his remaining henchmen.

Coming back to reality, I looked at Rengoku and asked with a bit of worry laced in my voice, “Is there a reason why the training is so intense this year? I thought Pillars were only supposed to train those who would inherit their will?” I had asked, seated right next to a very awake man while I was still half-sleep, shivers running through my body from the cold of having left the futon only minutes ago. “Ah yes! Well, to start, if we defeat Muzan, there will be no need for Pillars anymore.” He said with a big smile, my heart clenched in my chest at the mention of the famous demon we had been training to defeat for too long already. “Why, yes… But it seems like some very intense training. Not that I mind, we could all use some, but it also seems a lot different.” I replied, observing the recruits outside. “At the swordsmith village, something unbelievable happened, we are trying to reproduce that.” He hummed, focusing on his food, still smiling.

Nudging Rengoku’s elbow, I gestured for him to explain. Realizing he had forgotten to continue, he nodded, took my hand and scooted closer, his knee touching mine as he proceeded to explain all about the mark they had discovered; how Tanjirou had been the first one among them on which it had appeared, followed by Muichiro and Mitsuri. He added that when they returned from the village they had a meeting, but he could not attend it due to the state he was in; he was told they had decided to reproduce the conditions in which the mark appeared. “Giyuu told me young Tokito was the only one who was able to properly explain what had happened.” He said happily while taking another bite of his food—as he did so, his hand slid to my thigh and he absent-mindedly caressed it. “Young Tanjirou and Mitsuri lacked a way with words, and I heard it angered Sanemi, but they still managed to agree unanimously on the course of action to take, which was to work hard to reproduce those conditions.” He finished, nodding to himself.

Kyojuro tried to recall what else was important to say, but I interrupted him by leaning over, my hands resting on his opposite thigh while I looked in the court in shock. “Kyo- Kyo-” I hit his knee a few times, “The demon girl is in the sun! She shouldn’t-“ Sprinting out of the room, I crossed the veranda and rushed to her side. My bare feet hit the pebbles and grass full force, making me wince at each step. Upon reaching her side quicker than I expected, I took off my haori in panic and threw it on her. Both girls that accompanied her looked in confusion and waited a moment, so did I as I tried to catch my breath. “Get her back inside! Why are you letting her-“ Smiling in the most adorable way, the demon girl said my name and lifted the haori from her head to grin, “Thank you!” She seemed to be stammering, clearly struggling to speak but she continued, “I can walk—in the sun.” She pointed at the sky, in case I hadn’t understood her.

I stood there in awe and hesitantly removed the haori from her form, still frowning in confusion. Not knowing what to say, I stood in front of her, unmoving; she did not seem bothered and waited for me to ask anything or to leave, she was patient. “How?” I let out under my breath, my gaze never leaving her. Never in my years as a slayer had I seen this happen, it could change so much.

A hand on my shoulder startled me, a gasp leaving my lips. I recognized the feeling of the hand before turning around to look at the person. Rengoku slid his hand to rest it on my waist and pulled me closer, smiling. “Nezuko can now walk in the sun, she sacrificed herself for the village and for some reason, well…” He explained confidently, gesturing at her smiling face that he mirrored gladly. The two girls accompanying Nezuko tried to usher her away, but before leaving, the miraculous demon girl grabbed my hand and bowed, thanking me again before leaving. I smiled, unsure and embarrassed at my actions then bid her goodbye. “It does not make sense…” I muttered.

It made Rengoku laugh fully while he guided us back inside, “Do not worry, I do not understand either. I am simply very happy that young Tanjirou’s sister is getting better. His will to find a remedy to her condition is doing miracles, is it not?” He asked, his eyes ever so wide and bright. Staring back at him, for a moment I forgot what we were talking about and simply got lost in his beautiful eyes; I couldn’t help myself from cradling his face and kissing his cheek lovingly. “I missed your laugh, and your smile.” He beamed, flustered and happy, and cradled my face back to kiss my lips with just as much love, if not more. “So did I, my love. That does not mean I will go easy on you when we are training the recruits.” He winked before kissing my forehead and sitting back down to finish eating.

Once we were done eating, we went to train the recruits. It was good to be distracted for most of the day, only doing what your body told you to, which was to fight back. Since none of the present recruits of Rengoku’s had been able to hit him, he told them that if they could land a hit on me, he'd give them a chance to strike him. They were fueled up for some reason, probably thinking it would be easy, but I did not have that teacher aura Kyojuro had. I felt no regrets in tackling them to the ground when they did not think and would act rashly. It made their determination falter each time, only Rengoku’s words could cheer them up, “Come on, get up and fight!” he would say, or even, “Don’t back down in front of an obstacle! They hinder your path to toughen you up, stand tall and try again!” He indeed had a way with words and was the only reason the trainees still had hope, he kept their morale up. I admired him for doing so much for all of us.

I made sure to talk about it to him on that evening when we had eaten and were now walking outside under the stars, just like our first evening. “Kyo?” He perked up at his name, his hand tightening around mine with a hum echoing from his throat inquisitively. “Thank you, for being…” cheerful? Hopeful? Determined? Optimistic to a fault? “You. For being you. You are probably the sole reason those recruits think there is hope.” I said confidently, making him huff a laugh. He brought me closer, his steps slowly coming to a stop as he pulled me against him, his back now resting against the wall. “We are all working hard, every Pillar has hope we will make it through. Give them some credit, my dearest.” He said with a beautiful smile. I felt my cheeks heat up and shook my head, “I suppose you are right, I have yet to see them train them,” I started, placing my hand on the fabric on his chest where he delicately slid it under his kimono and onto his chest, a stupid smile adorning his features.

Ignoring his playfulness, I added, “I was talking to myself. Hearing you be so determined is getting to me, in more ways than one but mostly…” I trailed off, my eyes meeting his again. I removed the patch from his left eye and looked at both of them, smiling. “It seems you have managed to give me hope, and I cannot say it does not scare me.” Blinking in surprise, his eyes widened before glimmering with pure happiness. His hands that were resting on my lower back brought me in a tight hug that I returned in no time, “Fear is inevitable, but we have to work with it not against it. If it paralyzes you, find someone that will push you to take that one step, if it makes you lose your determination, find someone that will lend you their strength. And if it makes you lose yourself, then I’ll find you without failing.” He whispered, only I was meant to hear this, it was not a secret of any sort but that intimacy we had was not to be shared with the world. It was him and I, at this very moment it was just us, no one else around, we were alone together.

Wrapping my arms tighter around him, I felt my heart soar in reassurance and pure fear, a mix I could not get rid of no matter how hard I tried. Each passing moment spent with him made this entire fight scarier, I dreaded losing him, but I could not doubt his skills, and hearing him talk like that made me believe. “That way with words never disappears, does it…” I mumbled jokingly against his chest, the rumble of his laugh sending warmth coursing through my body. “Well, I would not want to lose it if we were to pair up to be great entertainers once this is all over.” He beamed; the idea I had thrown at him the night prior seemed to have stuck in his head. All while caressing my back, Kyojuro continued, slowly lowering us to sit on the parquet outside. “Since we both agree I am good with words, here are a few suggestions of very affectionate names you can call me,” His tone was light and humorous, but I knew he wanted to be called something and not just Kyo like I had found myself in the habit of doing a lot recently.

“My love seems to be obvious enough, dear and dearest are definitely agreeable,” He nodded, pondering for more, I looked up from kneeling between his legs and felt my lips curl into a smile as he continued, “My heart, definitely love that one-“ Seeing my face, his expression was suddenly flustered, and he continued a bit more quickly, “I do not mind if you prefer to call me Kyo! I am simply throwing ideas-“ “Sunshine?” I cut him off, grinning. “Would that be alright? After all, you are like the sun, warm, bright and your smile does brighten my day. I would say it is suitable.”

He turned shy, for a moment I had rendered him mute. The first time I had a very silent Rengoku in front of me was on that beautiful gentle summer night with his gaze locked on mine. The smile on his face was growing silently as he looked at me with an emotion I could not quite decipher, but he got himself together fast and leaned over enthusiastically, making me lean back in surprise, his face was now almost touching mine, “I love it. I love you, I love your idea, say it again!” he breathed a small “please” without ever looking away. Knowing that I had all his attention, I could not help but feel my body heat up, there was no reason to feel embarrassed, but I still suddenly felt awkward. “Sunshine, would you please kiss me?” I said softly, not wanting to wake everyone up. We were outside and seeing where we had walked, I believe we were outside Uzui’s room.

Clasping his hands on my cheeks, he kissed me once, twice, three times, then kissed my forehead, my cheekbones, I had to stop him. “Enough, enough, sunshine-“ “Say it again, louder! It is such a sweet name, I do not believe I will ever get enough of it, say it again.” He pressed in such a cute way, his hands wandering to mine as he helped me stand up while doing it himself. Chuckling, I shook my head and whispered back, “No, we should head back and get some sleep. I would not want to wake everyone up.” I said with another huffed laugh when his expression fell and he pouted innocently, it left his face when Uzui slid his door open and gave us an angry look, “I’m not in the mood to hear you two be cute and shit, go the fuck to sleep.” His speech was slurred, his hair disheveled, he looked different, but he clearly sounded like his usual self, grumpy and scolding.

Laughing, Rengoku nodded and bowed him goodnight before pushing him back inside and closing the door, he did not miss the opportunity to say a bit louder and playfully, teasingly, “What a grumpy old man, no wonder he retired-“ “I will gut you, Ren!” Uzui’s grumble echoed when the door slid open brusquely before we rushed back to our room, stupid giggles muffled in our mouths as we tried to keep in it while running. We held back until we reached the bedroom where we burst out laughing, I had to shush Kyojuro seeing how his face was turning redder from laughter, he fell to his knees still laughing. I knelt in front of him and covered his mouth, still chuckling myself, albeit more discreetly. “Stop, you are impossible— breathe through your nose you foolish man.” I told him with a smile, shaking my head when he wasn’t stopping. I waited for him to calm down to free his mouth and see how out of breath he was from his fit of laughter.

“Feeling impish tonight, are we?” I asked when he had calmed down and was now sitting properly in front of me. With a beautiful, childish smile, he nodded, “He interrupted our moment, I do believe some payback was due.” He said jokingly before leading us to the futons we had placed next to one another to have enough space for the two of us. “Well, I could have done without running more after such a long day, you are lucky you have a pretty face. It must have saved you from a lot of trouble during your childhood.” I said lightly. Bringing my pillow next to Rengoku’s, I settled comfortably; for a moment I hesitated laying my hand on his stomach to cuddle up to him, he grabbed my hand and placed it on him wordlessly and replied, “If you like my pretty face, you should see Senjurou’s! He is the cutest little brother—he would like to become a swordsman!” “Like his big brother? It is understandable, you must be quite the role model.”

There was a short pause, “He likes to help people, and I suppose all he has known is my father and I being swordsmen… However, I believe he would make a great healer, I wish he could see things my way.” Humming pensively, I pondered his words, perhaps just as he was. Senjurou probably wanted to take down demons, that’s all he has heard his entire life so I said, “If we take down Muzan, there will be no need for him to learn swordsmanship.” The hand resting on my waist gripped it even tighter when Rengoku turned his face to look at me from an odd angle, I could see his smile even like that. “You are right!” he muttered it again, then added, “We will change things, no matter what.” He said, determined. I held back my darker thoughts, not liking the words he had spoken. I knew him, his will and his determination knew no bounds, I was aware he was ready to sacrifice his life if it meant winning, and that is the exact reason why I did not want to think about it.

If the opportunity to sacrifice himself does not show, he will not die… I will make sure of that.

We talked more about Senjurou afterwards, falling asleep quite fast.

After that first day, a routine had settled. In the morning we would wake up at ungodly hours and have a peaceful breakfast—or as peaceful as it can be with the older Shinazugawa brother yelling at his pupils. Once we were done, we would go to the open court and see some of our recruits going to train with a different Pillar once they had reached the goal set for them. It was nice to be busy the entire day, it cleared the mind somehow by filling it with tasks easy to manage. Breaks were given during training, it allowed me to spend some relaxing time with Kyojuro. It would not always be quiet, recruits would sometimes come in and ask questions, forcing us to be more discreet in our display of affection to not make them feel awkward. A few times I was the one called away from training, by the Pillars that were already here at the mansion to try to have me awaken the mark, each time was in vain.

The time I had been told that someone had come to visit and I had to bring her to Master Ubuyashiki was the first time I had seen her and got caught off guard when I understood she was a demon. I had to walk with her alone through the forest to reach the estate in which the Master was resting. He had decided to lay far away from us, to keep the worry away. My guard was back up quite quickly, but I greeted her nonetheless and brought her to the room of the young Master. I had never seen the state he was in until now, it broke my heart to see him so incapacitated; his condition had worsened, and I knew from my gut’s feeling that he would not last long. Both the demon woman—I later learned her name was Tamayo—and I were conveyed to come nearer. Following the Master’s orders, we shuffled closer and sat by his side. He had said my name first, taking my hand in his and smiling kindly. I could not see his eyes because they were bandaged, but I knew how kind his eyes were, how gentle the young man was, and I felt it in how warm his hands were.

“I can feel your uncertainty my child, your aura is disturbed. So is your heart?” It felt like a déjà-vu to hear someone mention my troubled aura. The man depended on more than his eyesight to read people, just like Gyomei did, but I was always amazed at how good he was at it. Glancing at Tamayo, I felt a bit shy having this conversation with Master Ubuyashiki with her there, but I hummed, “Do not trouble yourself, I am more than focused on training and fighting, I will not falter on the battlefield.” I stated, determined. His delicate laugh echoed, it slowly turned into a cough; Nichika, who had been by his side the entire time, helped him sit up and handed him a handkerchief. Drinking some water after his coughing fit seemed to have helped a bit, at least enough for him to smile kindly and say, “Reliable as always. Perhaps you should be focused on getting your mind off things? I am certain someone would be more than willing to help distract you…” He trailed off playfully.

Feeling my cheeks heat up, I gave him a look of surprise, knowing full well he was being mischievous on purpose. My delayed response made him smile. “Young Master, I am sure you have more important things to do than worry about my... romantic affairs." I replied diplomatically, still at loss as to why he would mention Rengoku. The blind man chuckled once more, “I have important matters to attend to, indeed, however I care about the wellbeing of all my children.” He explained, ever so caring. I took a moment to ponder, perhaps too long since he added on a humorous note that had an underlying serious tone, “Would you indulge in a dying man's curiosity?” Gasping silently, I felt a knot form in my throat and held back from saying “You are not dying” out of despair. He was, we had been told since the very beginning he would not live long, but being reminded of it truly stomped my mood for a short moment.

“Hopefully I’ll satisfy your curiosity enough to bring you back.” I said playfully, albeit sadly too. He would not want us to treat him differently, and he was very close to us in age after all; I was allowed to be slightly playful. With that, I proceeded to tell him about everything. Tamayo even partook in the conversation; I was surprised to see how kind she was and how knowledgeable too. Calling the both of us together was odd, but seeing how the Master and Tamayo got along I suppose he needed some company. At first that was what I thought, yes, until he dismissed me once we were done, and his expression turned more stern when he looked back at Tamayo. She was the important matter he had to attend to, she had an important part to play in this fight and he had to make sure she was ready.

After that meeting, I returned to my lover and tried to distract my darkening mind. I had a hard time getting rid of the negative thoughts that plagued it, but being with him helped; it was easier to forget about everything when he started gushing about Tanjirou’s prowess in training, he was passing all the tests at an incredible speed which amazed more than one.

That was added to the routine, I could never emphasize enough how much I needed those relaxing moments in the evening when we would talk absent-mindedly about everything and anything as if everything was normal. As if an inevitable death was not coming, as if we were sure we had a tomorrow after the final fight.

Days went by fast; the routine was only broken a few times. One time when one of the swordsmiths had made its way to the estate with a well-wrapped sword in hand, I rushed to their side and knew from the determined steps and the mask who it was. “Hotaru, to what do we owe the pleasure of-“ “What else but a sword? I can’t believe how easy it is for all of you to ruin the beautiful swords we make. Do you not realize the amount of time put into making those beauties!?” He grumbled, as usual. Ignoring his complaints, I offered to bring the sword to the one who needed it, but he pulled back and said he would do it himself, adding “There is no way your brute hands are touching this masterpiece, get me the Fire Pillar, he’s the birdbrain who broke his sword.” Tilting my head to the side, I tried to recollect when it could have happened and felt very defensive suddenly. “I do believe that birdbrain took the most damage when your village got attacked, did he not?” I stood tall in front of the strong man, knowing full well he could take me down too, but I did not budge.

“Are you a guard dog or something? Just get me the Fire Pillar—you know what, I’ll get him myself.” He pushed me aside to try and find Rengoku himself; instead, both of us bumped into the man in question when I tried to grab him to stop him from walking away. An annoyed sound escaped Hotaru, he was very close to throwing a fit when he saw the man in front of him, his posture straightening as he bowed and handed the sword with his arms extended in front of him. “Do not break it this time.” He simply said. Kyojuro met that remark with laughter, he was careful in removing the cloth and grabbing it before skillfully twirling it around once he had stepped back. “It is so much lighter! Thank you so much-“ “Don’t be sweet, look at the hilt, you better thank me for that.” Doing as he was told, Rengoku paid attention to the hilt that I now noticed had changed. It was still a vibrant color, but it was a different shape.

Hotaru handed the old hilt to Rengoku, “I kept it since you seem like the sentimental type-“ the grumpy man was interrupted by the lion-like man’s tight hug after he had sheathed his sword away. The entire interaction was painful to see, the swordsmith had to push away from Rengoku’s tight hug with brute force; even if I could not see his face, I felt like he did not mind, if he had he would have beaten the blond up. “Do you know how hard it was to make that hilt?”

I interrupted, “A poppy? It seems simple enough.” “Oh, it’s not hard, but when the wounded, half-asleep idiot,” He smacked Rengoku on the top of the head, making the younger man wince, “...who requested it only described it as the red one, the flower at the top of the hill, well, it makes the entire process harder.” Upon hearing his words, I met Kyojuro’s gaze and felt my cheeks heat up, but I held back from speaking. Hotaru did not. His eyes jumped from my lover to me, at least that is what I think they were doing since all I could see was his face going from the Fire Pillar to me, “I’ll be taking my leave,” he said awkwardly, all the anger having left his voice suddenly. He grabbed Ren by the collar and brought him close to whisper something I could not hear before bowing and bidding us farewell.

Once he was gone, I joined Rengoku’s side and asked, “Why did you choose a poppy?” I had a feeling I knew why, yet I could not bring myself to assume it was about me. “Why do you think, songbird?” a stupid smile made its way to my lips, I knew it, but I could not stop it. Nor could I stop myself from touching the hilt of the sword, taking a good look at it instead of looking at Kyojuro. “It is the flower you gave me at the fireworks-“ “The first flower, I plan on giving you many more! But you are very correct.” He said happily, tilting my head up to look at him before kissing me softly. I kissed him back longingly then broke the kiss, my hands having slipped to his shoulders without me realizing it. “It is a coincidence too, but the meaning of poppies is dreams, luxury, and other things too. But the most important thing is!” He grinned and leaned over, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, “That you are a dream come true and definitely all I can dream of.”

He pecked my cheek gently, looking at me with the proudest expression that had ever crossed his face. “Smugness is a fine look on you, I have yet to decide if it was smooth or corny.” I smirked, bumping his shoulder with mine to signal we should return to the recruits who had not stopped working. Looking at Rengoku who was now walking behind me, I thought all the sweet things he would do or say made me swoon without exception. It was all those small things that made me want to have all of him. I held back of course, as hard as it was, but it was good practice to act more… civilized, instead of displaying affection openly in front of everyone.

Time went on as usual afterwards, the trainees were improving greatly. Not all of them had the same pace, some were slower and others, like Tanjirou and Inosuke, surprised all of us with the speed at which they were improving. I found some resemblance between Genya’s and Tanjirou’s mindset, not exactly the same but something similar at least. I had not talked enough with Inosuke to understand what his motive was, but I knew both Genya and Tanjirou wanted to protect the one they loved. The birthmark boy was determined to find a cure for his sister, while Genya was dead set on proving Sanemi he was worthy. It always pained me to see how Sanemi treated his brother, even after the many attempts the latter did to show he was not useless.

As if I had manifested it, while walking back to the room I shared with Rengoku, I was thrown on the ground when a body hit mine. I let out a grunt, but did not have time to complain before the body moved from my form, and I was able to move the door that had been kicked from its position and had landed on the ground. The soft voice of Tanjirou then echoed, “Stop this!” What is going on? I thought as I observed without interrupting, stepping back to let them talk. Listening more, it seemed like Sanemi was using brute force once again to make Genya understand he should leave the corps. There was no need for me to interrupt, seeing how Tanjirou was defending Genya beautifully, but while his words were deep and meaningful, Sanemi did not do emotional.

He did violence. It’s all he knew. And it showed when the brunette’s words reached him enough to annoy him, his usual frown was deepened into a scowl. Only seconds after, he was grabbing him by the throat and lifting him from the ground. “I’ll incapacitate you first, if not him.” He gritted through his teeth; I saw Zenitsu grab Genya’s hand before running away with him while the recruits around stared in shock. I was the first one to stand up, they followed my motion and jumped on him to stop him from attacking Tanjirou; there was nothing much he could do against all the recruits, so he let go of the brunette. Once the latter was out of sight, I ordered all the trainees to leave and was left with a seething Sanemi. Without wasting much time, I dropped my haori and tied my sleeves out of the way. “You utter moron, when will you learn that it is not the proper way to express your affection to your brother?” I spat.

He scoffed, pulling out his sword—I did the same; it was different than the training in the dojo because this time he was filled with ire. “What affection? I don’t have a brother.” “Then why do you care if he is in the corps?” I asked, frowning. He ran at me with full speed and as usual, a dance ensued. Dodging, slashing, dodging, kicking, those were the steps, the tempo was set erratically by his thoughtless actions, completely letting the frustration lead. “You’re always so fucking nosy, let me deal with my shit.” He grunted; I had a hard time believing his constant nonchalance. If I took a good look at him, I could see the worry painted in his eyes, how he hated the choices his brother made, how he wished he could do something. But being unable to do anything made him react in the most idiotic ways.

“It stops being your shit the moment you start harming the people you’re supposed to train, understood?” I said sternly. His gaze turned into a mocking one as he slashed my way again, “I don’t see how that’s your problem, you’re not a Pillar, you’re not that great at fighting, you’re nothing, you have nothing to do-“ “Oh, I did not know we were going down the petty road.” I stated before blocking his hit, I tried to grip his hand and open it to make him drop his sword, but he held tight and scoffed. I continued, “You are being so reckless and immature. It is surprising, even coming from you.” His words echoed in the back of my head, but I fought them by wording more positive thoughts out loud, with a scoff, “I thought it above you to use your status as a show of power, do you not realize I am still standing even after all your attacks?” Those were the wrong words to speak. His stance changed drastically, I quickly understood he was serious now and not just letting the steam out.

There was no helping the nervous giggle that escaped my lips. He was not thinking at all, he was blinded by rage he had built up on his own, he was running at me like a fool, clearly not caring if he got hit by my sword. The best thing I could do was twirl my sword around so that the hilt would hit him instead of the blade. Only seconds after, upon impact I was thrown to the ground. The tip of his sword was grazing my throat, I did not dare breathe. “Shut your fucking mouth, fuck you’re annoying, can’t you keep your head down and-“ “Sanemi, my friend, it’s enough.” The grey-haired man did not glance at the voice that was heard, I did not dare look either in fear he would act during that split second and kill me or perhaps because I just wanted to keep an eye on him.

“Drop the sword, my friend.” Rengoku’s gentle yet stern voice reached my ears again, I knew he would not let me get hurt but I also wanted to yell at him for trying to talk sense into the fool that had a blade at my throat. Sanemi’s response was to grin wider, I did not have time to see that smile widen into a manic laugh that he was kicked off of me. I was fast to sit up and crawl backwards to the veranda to let them fight. The Wind Pillar stood up fast, his expression thrilled, “Rengoku, get the fuck out of my way. Your diplomatic fuck needs to learn when to-“ he was cut off by the Fire Pillar punching him in the face and bringing him down by hooking his foot around the angry man’s ankle. “Watch your mouth, the girls are watching!” His tone was light, but his expression, from what I could see on the side, was dead serious. I saw from the corner of my eyes Kiyo, Naho and Sumi peeking from behind the wall, ever so worried. Returning my eyes to the men in front of me, I scooted to stand in front of the girls in case they decided to continue fighting.

The ginger gripped the wild man’s collar and lifted him from the ground, his smile disappearing slowly as he leaned in, “You made two mistakes, the first one was attacking your brother, your blood, the boy who is trying so hard to be worthy for you. What kind of role model are you? Do you not realize the luck you have to have him by your side? Fix this, or you will regret it.” He spoke from experience, not that he had a bad relationship with his brother, but he missed him, and I knew he was working hard to be the best role model for Senjurou. Rengoku was a man keen on bonds, on keeping good relationships with people and never in his life would he let things get this bad with his brother. I could read it in his eyes how angry he was at Sanemi for acting like this. Sanemi kept his mouth shut, which was a step forward to calming him down since he was now listening, “The second was fighting dishonorably.” He spat before letting go of Sanemi's collar and gesturing for him to follow, “Let’s finish this somewhere else. Only then will you return to your recruits.” It was not a suggestion.

Watching them leave, I did not say anything. I started thinking of how to thank him for having my back, but as I thought so, Rengoku called my name, getting my attention, “Do not forget our recruits! Get up and go train them, I will join you shortly, my love.” He winked with his usual grin, my face suddenly felt hot at the name he had used in front of so many people, it made him laugh. While the girls patted my shoulders, telling me to get up, I saw Rengoku hit the back of Sanemi’s head while they walked towards the forest. How quick were they to get friendly again? I suppose Ren had that effect on people, he was calming to be around and forgiving too, it was hard to feel bad around him.

That fight was quickly forgotten, everyone had other things to think about. Most of the recruits thought it was usual for the Wind Pillar to be mad like that and were not even disturbed. Only the other Pillars and Tanjirou’s little clique knew what had truly happened and that Sanemi and Genya were in fact brothers. It was not an information everyone needed to know, hence it was kept for very few people to know.

The countdown until the fight with Muzan was going; in the blink of an eye, we had reached the day before the fight. It was not a day of festivities, we had all agreed on winning and only then would we be celebrating. We were fully aware that we would not all be there by the end of it, but none of us would mention it. It was an unspoken fact, one that wandered about, weighing the air we breathed, making everything more glum. No matter how hard we tried, we were aware of it, even if it was just in the back of our minds while we waited for the time to leave the estate and head to the territory before sundown.

It was hard not to think about it, people were playing games, others had gone to sleep the day away. I found myself walking about the estate in the late afternoon, not knowing what to do and overheard a discussion I knew I should not have heard. Perhaps getting caught off guard at the mention of Shinobu killing herself was what made me let my stealth down. My name was called by the delicate, strained voice of Kocho telling me to come in. I had to take a moment to calm down and slithered inside, my mouth shut tight when I felt a wave of sadness rush over my body. She proceeded to explain the strategy she had in mind to kill the demon that had killed Kanae, her sister. I paid attention, trying to find a fault in her strategy, trying to find anything to convince her to change her mind but it made sense. She knew what she was doing, she was determined, I hated it, I felt heavy in my chest. She taught me a lot, she was not my closest friend but we were close enough for me to feel this pain.

At the end of her explanation, she smiled at Kanao and dismissed her. I was about to follow when she told me to stay seated. We then waited for the younger girl to leave. Once we were sure she was away, I breathed out, “Is this a goodbye, Shinobu?”

She hummed. I looked up from my lap and saw her strained smile, her determination was unwavering, she knew what she had to do but I saw her hands clenched on her lap. “There is no way to change your mind, is there?” She shook her head, her smile still present, her eyes closed with wrinkles at the corners from how hard she was forcing that smile on her face. “There is no need to act tough with me, you have seen me cry many times. I believe it is fitting to cry on your last day alive, don’t you think?” Those were the words that made her crumble. In an instant, I was in front of her and was holding her tight as she mumbled it was the right thing to do but it is hard to let down Kanao, to leave her alone in this world. “Alone? There is no way I am dying out there, I will keep an eye on her. And you are not letting her down, you are doing what is most honorable, she will battle by your side resolutely.” Shinobu was not one to cry, she did not stay in my arms long. As she pulled away, she smiled to herself sadly, “I wish to be the only one who dies out there.”

I could not promise that, we were going to lose many people, I knew that, she knew that, we all knew that. “But it will not be that easy,” she continued, lifting her head to look at me with a sincere gaze, “I will welcome those who will fall during battle, no one will be alone. You must stay alive and keep living, no matter what.” It sounded like she was repeating herself, but I knew what she meant. Do not let the darkness take over, do not lose your mind over the losses this battle will bring. “That is quite a huge favor, I am not sure-“ “You will, you have to. You are the one who has the most to look forward to once this is over.” There was no need to remind me of that, if I had things to look forward to, it meant I had things to lose and that scared me. So, I tried to distract myself and chuckled, “Do you wish to hear a funeral speech? I am not very familiar with living funerals, but I can try if you wish.” That made her laugh; thus, I spent the following hour with her. Making jokes, bantering and remembering the good times. It did not make the goodbye any easier but it was nice.

At around 4 in the afternoon, the sun was still high in the sky, so we still had a few hours or so in front of us before the plan Master Ubuyashiki had set would take place. For those remaining hours, I had called Rengoku to our chambers and decided to spend as much time with him as possible.

Upon entering our chambers, Rengoku undid his kimono and started stripping without much care, “Do you believe we should dress for the occasion? A battle like this calls for-“ “It is a simple battle, a battle we will win. Nothing has to be different; it is but a bigger demon.” I stated, looking away from his naked form. Did I believe the words I had spoken? Barely, but I needed to hear them, even if it was last minute, I needed to convince myself it was going to be alright. “You are very right; I see you are already dressed in your slayer attire.” He noticed, his voice soft and carefree. It probably was an act, but I enjoyed it, I needed it. As I looked down at my black outfit, I felt a whiplash at the realization of how close we were getting to that fight we had been preparing for so long.

Ignoring my thoughts for the umpteenth time, I gestured for Rengoku to follow me as I moved to the cabinet and grabbed a comb and a ribbon. He understood and sat in front of me, ready for me to take care of him. I did so in silence rather quickly, his hair was a lot less tangled than usual, as if he had taken the habit to brush it. It made me smile for a short moment as I threaded my fingers through his hair. Once I was done, I threw his braid over his shoulder and as if on cue, “With that, I’m sure to win! Nothing will get in my way.” He said enthusiastically as he stood up before saying, “I am quite glad it is the last time we are wearing this attire.” He pinched his shirt to emphasize when we stood up, but I interrupted him and glared at him, not thinking twice before saying, “Do not say that! We will win!” A lie, I did not believe those words, why was I getting that desperate? Why only now?

Rengoku’s eyes widened as he finished buttoning up his shirt; he then walked up to me and cradled my face to smoosh my cheeks and stare at me for a long time. “I meant that once we have defeated Muzan, there will be no need for the corps. We will retire, in a beautiful house near a big field.” He said, never letting go of my face.

I stared back, feeling stupid for my outburst. He was right, but deep down I knew that no matter the outcome, it was the last time we would wear this uniform. Kyojuro must have read my mind, or read my expression, my gaze getting lost in his from overthinking the situation. “Please, stop overthinking.” “I can’t do that. My mind is riddled with anxiety, I am conflicted between blindly trusting our skills or getting used to the idea we are all going to die.” I said, tears pricking the corner of my eyes. Rengoku’s brows knitted together in sadness at seeing me like this. I moved his hands away from mine to wipe the tears to calm down, thinking he should not have to carry the weight of my gloominess out on the battlefield. But I could not help the words from flooding out of my mouth, “I am so afraid of losing you, there is so much more I wish we had done, I regret not-“ “Stop right there,” He pulled me close to him and held me so tight I thought I would break. His head was resting on my shoulder as he hugged me in a bone-crushing embrace. “There is no regret; all that has happened, happened the moment it should have.”

Still holding me tight, he said, “Perhaps fate has other plans for us, perhaps it will try to separate us, but I love challenges, and if I have to defy fate to be with you, I will do it.” I laughed at that, knowing it was impossible, but this man was known for doing the impossible. He was himself impossible, untamable in the best way, the freest mind I had ever encountered. If there was one person who could go against fate and win, it would be him. “I would like to say the same, but at best I will defy Muzan himself, fate seems a bit too hard to beat but-“ “Easy enough for me! I am very skilled,” He said happily, his hands moving to mine as he pulled me with him, our arms extended lazily in front of us as he dragged me around the room all while talking, “I once caught a fish with my bare hands—well it jumped right back in the river, but I caught it!” He said cutely, almost tripping onto the futon behind him, I quickly pulled him towards me and held him close as I looked at him fondly.

“Skilled? Your balance is lacking, perhaps you should have taken dancing lessons.” I said playfully, one of my hands moving to his shoulder while one of his slid to my waist, bringing my hips closer. “My mother taught me how to dance, she was the most delicate when dancing with beautiful flowery dresses,” He smiled genuinely before kissing me and whispering, “Sing me a song, I will show you.” Lost in his glimmering eyes, I simply looked at him in awe, enjoying the warmth of his hands on my body. After a few moments had passed, he reiterated with a chuckle, that’s when I asked, “A song—yes. Which one? I know so many, maybe-“ “The one you were singing when I woke up the first time.”

Taken aback, I gulped and nodded, taking a few seconds to compose myself before starting. It was not made to be a concert, no, it was loud enough for both of us to enjoy and bathe in the serenity it brought us. As I sang, he brought my head to his chest and hummed along, a few notes were off but it made my heart burst with love to know how much he remembered it. I could hear his heartbeat and I hated myself for thinking it could be the last time I did so. Must it be so hard to brandish a sword and defend the ones you love? Must the price of failure be their death? How did we end up here, risking our lives for something none of us had asked for? For a moment, I wished we had been in a reality where we were entertainers, something we were anything but.

Tears started rolling down my cheeks, my words had come to a stop for I was now simply humming and so was Kyojuro. His head was resting against mine and we were slowly waltzing across the tatami, enjoying the moment, perhaps our last together. His embrace was like home, a home I did not wish to leave, it was welcoming and reassuring, a place I wanted to protect and go back to when this was over. It made my heart twist in the most horrible way at the thought of not being able to, of being alone without him by my side, of not hiring a painter to follow us on our adventure, of not having a dog with a silly name. “I am in love with you, please do not die, sunshine.” I sobbed against his chest, his arms tightening around my shoulders as he reassured me.

His answer did not stop the tears and was carved in my mind even hours later, after the explosion of the mansion in which Muzan was, after the Pillars had run there to help, after we had split in teams to all go to our assigned area. The words flashed vividly in my mind as I set foot on the battlefield, shambles surrounding us,

“Let’s live on, let’s do our best to live on, no matter how lonely it gets.”

[Part 9]

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revengeisourlullaby · 3 years

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Hi I just read “everything happens for a reason” (loved it btw) I was wondering if you could make a sequel to it? Y/N is still try to get over her break up with Thor and Loki reassures her that she is more than enough for him. It would be more vanilla though. (Sorry that this is so long🥺)

it’s not long at all, don’t worry! i was actually contemplating about making a sequel to it. so i already have smth in the works! i’ll have it done probably by the end of the week :))

edit: I’m so sorry for this being so late!! I know I said a week and then my life went up in chaos. Forgive me for my untimely posting. Regardless, here is the sequel to the Loki fic, Everything Happens For a Reason. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: None. Just fluffy Loki

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 2.3K

You awoke to the pitter-patter of the New York rain falling against the window yet again. You thought the worst of it happened yesterday while you were running away from your problems. Speaking of problems, the last thing you wanted was to go back home. Even though it wouldn’t be until later this evening, you felt that your apartment was forever tainted with the betrayal you witnessed. Going back in there would be like playing a broken record. Forever stuck in the limbo of what was.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you rolled over to feel for Loki, but instead, you were met with room temperature sheets, another body vacant from the bed. Your stomach sank. Had Loki lied? It wouldn’t be beside him but with you, he was so transparent. It felt like cigarettes were being put out all over your skin, your nerves were fired up in all the wrong ways. You sat up in the bed and pulled the sheets up to your chest along with your knees. You felt your body become lethargic.

Am I worth anything to anybody? Am I really that disposable?

Hot, stinging tears began to fall from your eyes. Self-doubt and deprecating thoughts filling your brain. Perpetual questions of wondering your worth not only in romantic fashion but just in life came to be the spearhead of your worries. Everything felt intrusive and counterfeit. Maybe he saw you as easy and knew you would give up easily to him in your state of vulnerability. You just wanted somebody to be appreciative of you.

Maybe he and his brother weren’t cut from that different of a cloth. Sliding out of the bed you went to put on your clothes from the night before in hopes of getting out of the hotel without too much trouble. But when you bent over to pick your jeans up from the floor they were damp and cold and it made you feel even worse. Your hoodie was in a similar condition and to top it off, you couldn’t find your underwear to save your life. You groaned out loud and felt trapped in this opulent room and everywhere you looked was a painful reminder of everything bitter and vile.

You climbed back in bed and decided to just wait for your clothes to finish drying up. Unsure of when that would be because the rain outside was creating a thin layer of humidity in the room. Sighing you curled into the fetal position and held onto an extra pillow hoping that it would provide you with some semblance of comfort. Your tears started up again and there was a pain beginning to build in your stomach. You wanted to scream. You wanted to release yourself of all the negative energy that was boiling within you. Clutching the extra pillow to your face you let out a wail that you had been holding in for far too long. All the pent-up energy from yesterday of trying to hold your own against the perfidy Thor presented you with and now you were struggling with the concept of Loki using you and your vulnerability for a cheap fuck. You were curled up in a hotel room, naked and crying about everything. You felt pathetic. You just wanted to sleep forever.

With the last sniffle leaving your body you took a deep breath and shuddered into your body. Your breathing labored and shallow, you tried to calm yourself down in hopes of falling back asleep. But those hopes were dilapidated when you heard the hotel room door click open. You thought about faking sleep but the idea of faking anything took up too much space to even think about carrying out. So you opted to just lie still and wait for anything to be said to you. Maybe it was just one of the housekeeping people and they would leave upon seeing someone still in the room.

“Y/N, you up yet?”

Housekeeping would’ve been too easy wouldn’t it?

Sighing you meekly responded to Loki, tears and sorrow welling up in your eyes and throat once more.

“Yeah, been up for a little while.”

He caught on to it immediately. Your position in the bed, the lack of tone in your voice. He knew he should’ve waited but he thought a surprise of something would lift your spirits even more. Time was simply not on his side and you arose long before he anticipated. Making his best judgment at the situation he was debating which road of sentiment he should walk down. He didn’t want to make things worse for you.

Loki set down a bag, the crinkling catching your attention and you looked over your shoulder to see where he was.

He went to get food? He hadn’t skipped at all?

“Surprise.”

Instantly you were filled with regret, upset with yourself for jumping to conclusions about the situation at hand. You couldn’t help it though, your ability to have trust within someone else was smeared, and regardless of Loki’s reassuring words the night prior, the pain had yet to subside. Upon seeing your face, Loki saw the residual puffiness in your face and how the tip of your nose was heated and slightly swollen from your crying before he walked in.

“I’m sorry, Loki.”

Was all you could muster, wordwise. You sat yourself up in the bed and wiped the residue of tears from your face trying to make yourself appear as normal as possible. Wrapping the sheet tightly around you, you finally faced him. Loki stepping lightly to the edge of the bed.

“Did you think I left...for good?”

You rolled your heads towards him, cynicism clear on your face. A bit of sarcasm was thrown into the mix but it was all a guise to somewhat shield him from the pain and embarrassment you were feeling. Looking at the wall in front of you, a dry response left your lips.

“Yes. What else was I supposed to think? My mind was running through all the possible reasons as to why you left. And the one that kept nagging was the idea that my vulnerability yesterday was used to an advantage other than my own.”

Sadness no longer colored your emotions but rather numbness. You weren’t sure what to feel. You wanted to trust Loki and you believed that you could but time was definitely needed. With another sigh, you continued.

“And then you walk in here with bags of stuff and I look like a fool for being so dramatic in nature.”

“Well that’s nothing new for us now is it?”

Loki’s quip back at you had your eyes narrowing into thin slits but again was quickly washed away because something about him made the circumstances seem not so perilous. You bowed your head, feeling that you had said enough. In place, Loki’s voice filled the silence.

“My intention was for you to still be asleep by the time I returned. You seemed so peaceful. The last thing I wanted was to wake you from that state of rest. I figured I’d be back in time to properly surprise you with some gifts.”

You smiled a bit, feeling the angst start to fade away, but quickly to feel it fade into guilt. But you weren’t allowed to stew in it for too long, for Loki standing up from the bed caught your attention distracting you from your thoughts.

“Before it gets cold, I got us some breakfast. And..”

His sentence trailing off into a strain as he bent over to the side of the desk in the front of a room to pull out yet another bag.

“I picked you up some clothes to wear for today. Figured wearing the ones from this past evening was morally and aesthetically dull and trudging back to your apartment would be in poor judgment. It’s not much but enough for the day and for our date this evening.”

Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline completely forgetting about what you agreed to with Loki during your session of pillow talk while you were drifting in and out of sleep.

He really meant that? Wow, okay.”

“Oh come now, you hadn’t forgotten already had you?”

Loki was mocking you now. Fully aware that by your initial reaction you had forgotten.

“Look, in my defense, I was drifting off to sleep.”

“Mhmm, sure Y/N.”

Setting the bag in between the two of you on the bed, Loki looked at you, eyes urging you to dig in the bag.

“You happen to have another shirt I can throw on before I start eating? My hoodie is still damp and-”

Loki reached into the bag full of clothes and pulled out an oversized graphic tee cutting your sentence off and holding it out in front of your face.

“Thank you.”

You were genuinely surprised and grateful. It was such a simple act but the fact that Loki went out of his way to get you clothes and food following a night of such intensity made you feel warm and finally appreciated. Something you hadn’t felt with previous relationships, especially with your last. Taking the shirt from him, you looked for the tag and pulled it out with your teeth.

“Animal.”

Loki side-eyed you, his comment made obviously in somewhat of jest. You chuckled and wormed your way into the shirt. Once pulling it over your head you finally dug into the paper bag that was still surprisingly warm despite the time that had gone by. The smell of a breakfast sandwich filling your nose and your stomach growled in response, eager to be fed. Loki made a sarcastic remark but you couldn’t be bothered with responding the second you placed the sandwich to your lips.

The satisfaction of the food also gnawing away the ritual morning agitation you were always burdened with. Nothing but soft smacks and soft moans of enjoying your food filled the space. A sign that obviously, the food was worthwhile. Loki had looked at you eyebrow raised and chuckled to himself watching you be completely lost in the sandwich.

“If I would’ve known you’d be tearing the sandwich up like that I would’ve purchased three.”

Your eyes rolled and simultaneously you were thinking about how he got all this stuff in the first place. Mouth still full with food, your speech a little muffled.

“Speaking of purchase, how’d you buy all this anyway.”

“Mischief always finds its way, darling.”

“I think the word is pronounced thievery, Loki.”

“Same difference.”

It’s almost as if all the trauma that you suffered through yesterday had never happened. Being with Loki and the playful banter that was his character made everything feel at ease. You felt happy, actually and most importantly you didn’t feel guilty for it. Was the timing a little brisk? Perhaps, but in the end, what really mattered was your happiness and right now it felt that you had found it.

Finishing up with your sandwich you balled up the wrapping and threw it back into the bag. Standing up from the bed you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. Turning on the light you saw a plethora of toiletry products that you hadn’t brought. A toothbrush, toothpaste, body wash, lotion, a few makeup products that you knew were picked up in pure confusion, and some leave in for your hair. Your eyes widened and you let out a belly laugh.

“Jesus Loki, did you raid the fuckin Walgreens on the corner.”

“Hey if you don’t want it, with the flick of my wrist it will vanish. Choose your next words wisely.”

You knew he was playing and you decided one last epigram would satisfy your bratty nature. Peeking your head out from the bathroom, you bowed in a dramatic courtesy.

“Thank you my king for so valiantly stealing all the toiletries from our nearest corner store. My gratitude is eternal. Like that?”

“You’re impossible.”

Walking back to Loki, you stood between his legs and raked your fingers through his slicked-back hair. A softness took over your features, appearing small and doe-like to Loki as he looked up at you.

“Thank you, Loki, really. I know we bust each other’s balls but I really appreciate you. I can already foresee how tightly I’m going to be wrapped around your finger. You already have me falling for you at a speed that is impractical to calculate.”

“My Y/N.”

Hearing the adoration layered in his tone made your heart warm and the possession of your name falling from his mouth made your body shiver. Realizing how quickly you could get used to this.

“Now you’ll finally see what it’s like to be on the receiving end. Ever since we stumbled upon each other I was enamored with you. I couldn’t bear to see you with another and that another being none other than my brother was like a fiery blade that I had no power of removing. When I fell for you I knew I was irrevocably destined to be yours. Regardless of the circumstance. And now, if you are willing to take my hand in this journey I would like to make you mine.”

You pressed your lips together in a firm smile before showing your teeth, feeling overwhelmed with reverence for the man in front of you.

“I’d be more than happy to accompany you. Even more so for this evening.”

Loki lightly smiled and then leaned up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. The air light and emanating the tender yet sardonic romance that was beginning to brew between your long-lost lover.

#loki #loki imagine #loki fluff #Loki Laufeyson #loki x reader #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #loki laufeyson fluff #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #loki fanfic #marvel fanfic

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1000-directions · 3 years

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good stuff 6-21-21

hmmmmmmmmm

i drove out of state for the first time in like a year, and i drove through a major busy city for the first time in i can’t even remember how long, and i was nervous about the drive and city drivers and quick merges and one way streets, but it was all...fine. it was fine. i waited until after rush hour and sang taylor swift in my car and i didn’t get lost and i didn’t get in an accident and it was fine.

i am currently staying in a hotel room that is bigger than my entire apartment. i got here a day early, and my mom is coming in tomorrow for my dad’s surgery. when i got here, the air conditioning was broken and the room was stuck at 81 degrees, and the credit card she had given them was declined, and there were like a whole host of issues that i extremely did not feel like solving after having a very stressful day at work. but. i did them all, even though i didn’t want to, and now my mom won’t have to do anything but show up, and she won’t have to focus on any of this problem-solving.

i’m in a part of the city that has several places nearby within walking distance, so tomorrow morning i can get bagels, and there are vegetarian places i can pick up food for lunch and dinner, and it was nice to like take some time today to explore the area on google maps to get a sense of what is nearby and what the options are so i don’t feel so disoriented. i’m not good at being away from home, and i’m especially not good at not having my car to rely on, but i’m leaving it parked until i leave here because...it is the city.... but because it’s the city, it’s built for walking. it’s supposed to rain a bit tomorrow, but i am hopeful the worst is coming tonight and tomorrow won’t be as bad.

i took a nice shower (i have no water pressure in my terrible apartment, i never want to leave this hotel shower ever again), and then i watched the bachelorette while eating trail mix, and soon i’m gonna go to bed and, y’know. dream about bagels.

#good stuff 2k21 #little victories #food cw

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years

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Humans are Space Orcs, “Ice Skating.”

Here is something for the start of December, and an idea suggested to me by @helen-oftroy. Sorry guys if anything seems rushed. Finals week is fast approaching, so welcome to Stress land :)

“So you’re telling me that you want to go back to the giant planet covered in ice?” Krill wondered skeptically.

Commander Vir lounged a bit to the side in his chair. He was wearing his uniform, as he had taken to doing over the past few months, a good idea considering, his formal, and unexpected meetings with the GA were becoming more and more common.

Krill wasn’t entirely sure how it happened, or entirely sure how he felt about it, but he had, somehow, and in some way become the defacto military leader for the entire galaxy, this young, crazy, and sort of air-headed human, not that he doubted the man’s intelligence. He had gotten over that assumption months ago, but still there was something about him that just didn’t scream I am ready to command an army for the entire Galaxy cluster.

Perhaps it had something to do with the ridiculous hat he was wearing: red and white, with a white pom-pom at the very end sort of floppy and hanging towards one of his shoulders. When Krill had taken the time to ask why he was wearing the stupid thing, the Commander had pointed out, “Because it’s December.” like that was supposed to explain anything.

“And why do you want to go back to the icy death planet?”

The human leaned back in his seat leaning over to glance at their coordinates on screen, “One word Krill, morale.”

“Morale.” “Yes, the collective good will and team spirit of the crew.”

“I know what the word means.” Krill muttered in annoyance, “What I don’t understand is how near freezing conditions, snow, and the possibility of lie-ending blizzards has anything to do with it.”

The man stood for his seat adjusting his stupid hat and turning to walk towards the door, “Oh don’t be such a grinch.”

“A what?”

The human didn’t answer, but laughed at him and stepped down the stairs with a clatter, “Months on end in the blackness of space, surrounded by the void and the monotonous routine of military work, nothing that seems like home, only a few comforts to remember our planet and during that time of year where we would wish nothing more than to be home with our families.”

Krill scuttled after him, “Your point being?”

Commander Vir paused in the hallway to look down at krill, “My point being Krill, is if the crew feels anything like I do, they miss their families, and homesickness is bad for productivity, and it's bad for mental health, so I plan on giving them a small bit of home, and maybe some fun because I take the mental health and satisfaction of my crew very seriously.”

He turned back on his heels and began walking.

“What is so special about December?” Krill wondered vaguely aware that the phrase indicated a specific time of year, though for the life of him, he didn’t know what was so special about it.

“Christian appropriated pagan holidays hijacked by corporate powerhouses to make money by guilt tripping the already financially struggling capitalist populace into buying gifts for people they don't like.”

“What?”

The man just grinned at him, “Tradition, Krill. Glorious pointless tradition, and a reason to eat too much and spend time with people you like, unless you are forced to spend time with people you don't like, in which case, I argue, you are doing it wrong.”

“Does the rest of the crew know about your little stunt.”

“yes , of course they do. I put out a memmo last week, and I have something special planned for the people who have to keep working as well, so no one is left out.”

“Don't suppose I can opt out of this.”

He wasn't entirely sure if the human blinked or winked at him, “Not a chance.”

Krill sighed deeply but followed anyway walking into one of the forward cargo bays surprised to find the pace nearly empty accept for piles and piles of beanbags, blankets and strange looking chairs. Someone had set up a projector towards the front taking up one entire wall of the cargo area. The humans that lounged around were dressed as easily as physically possible in what krill had come to recognize as night-ware. Some of them even wore clothing that suggested at earth animals with big floppy ears on top of hoods.”

The deck quartermaster had appropriated the coffee maker from the mess hall and was using it to heat up water, which was then being mixed into another beverage and passed around to the lounging humans along with strange stricks of red and white.

“Didn’t we have a holiday like last week/”

He waved a hand, “Not really, that was jus an excuse to eat more food.”

“Everything with you is an excuse to eat more food.” Krill grumbled

Commander Vir paused by one of the beanbags where Sunny was lounging craning her head back to look at him, “Have fun, don’t die.” She said

He playfully kicked at her beanbag, “Don't Tempt me, anyway, you guys have access to every Christmas movie for the past two thousand years, well ok except for the last century due to copyright issues, but beyond that you should be able to find SOMETHING to watch.”

She waved him off with a dismissive hand as they walked to the edge of the cargo bay where another moderately large group of humans was suiting up in their winter gear. Krill grumbled in annoyance, but crawled into the containment tube. Commander Vir knocked on the glass offering Krill the ‘scarf’ the human’s mother had once made for Krill before closing the pod.

Commander Vir moved to dress up with the others walking over to hang out with the humans Krill would have said were his close group of friends including the marines like Ramirez, Maverick, and CJ, but also including Narobi and Dr. Katie.

Dr. Katie waved at him from insider her massive fur-lined coat looking like a puffed up marshmallow.

“Alright, you guys load those boxes onto the shuttles and we can get going. Remember to gear up inside the ship, it is pretty cold out there, but the ice field is perfect, so we should be good.”

The other humans nodded in agreement and did as told excitedly running into the shuttles. Commander Vir took the helm of his own, never willing to let someone else pilot if he could help, and they headed into the atmosphere of the massive ice planet. Krill grumpily sat in the back wondering just what kind of shenanigans he should be expecting today, with the humans you never knew.

Upon reaching the ground, Commander Vir powered down the shuttle, and ordered Ramirez to cut open one of the boxes. He did so with pleasure and, Krill was confused to watch as the humans began pulling strange pairs of shoes from the box.

Shoes with metal blades on the feet.

Katie squealed in delight.

Maverick grinned, “Good thing you brought a doctor,eh?’

“Watch me concuss myself.” Narobi sighed

Krill stiffened, statements like that didn’t bode well coming from humans. He glanced towards Commander Vir who grabbed a pair of the shoes from a box, and was just then lacing them up on his feet. How they expected to stand up was beyond him. Twisting and ankle was a horrible possibility.

At the end of the line Ramirez already had his skates done up, and now stood on the hard metal floor.

Krill waited for him to tip over, but somehow, and in some way, the human balanced himself on a surface area that was no more than a couple of millimeters wide.

“What are you doing.” Krill ventured warily.

“We have an entire planet covered in ice, so we are going to ice skate on it, duh.”

Krill’s panic was immediate. Ice, metal, and a sharp surface clearly DESIGNED to reduce friction.

After they subdued Krill’s conniption fit, the shuttle door was opened. Krill watched from his enclosure in barely contained panic as Maverick stepped out onto the blinding ice, one boot and then the other. She wobbled for a second gliding out onto the cie. She wobbled again, “YOu should have worn helmets at LEAST.”

But in the next moment Maverick slid one of her feet to the side, and then the other in a strange walking motion. Before Krill could complain further, the human was suddenly gliding across the ice in a wide arc laughing and increasing speed as the edges of the skates bit into the clear surface of blue tinted ice, leaving a trail of white behind her.

Dr. Katie followed after wobbling and giggling.

Narobi was not so brave stepping onto the ice as she clutched onto one of the shuttles struts wobbling and slipping, nearly falling over on two occasions muttering about how her ancestors didn’t lend her very well to the ice. Commander Vir laughed at her expense, and she glowered at him, but broke into a wide grin as soon as he stepped onto the ice with a confident swagger only to fall into a flailing wheeling mess tripping backwards to land with a sharp thud on the cie and go skidding outwards.

Krill winced in concern angry that he couldn’t go back on the human.

The others broke into laughter and pointing.

Maverick made it a point to skate a circle around him.

Krill didn’t see how the man planned on getting up, but watched as he placed his hands on the ground driving the picks of his skates into the ice before slowly wobbling to his feet, “I meant to do that.” he announced, only to be laughed at for a second time.

It was from then on that Krill watched in horror and anxiety as the humans slid slipped and wobbled about on the ice. More than once he watched the humans plow into each other, fall over, slip backwards or something else horrible.

Narobi had finally let go of the shuttle, but immediately regretted it sliding past krill with her arms flailing screaming for help.

She was laughed at, until she ended up on her but and began scooting back towards the shuttle.

When they DID manage to remain upright they sometimes managed to look graceful, like leaves caught in a gust of wind. Maverick and Katie were ok, and managed to remain upright normally, though they had created a game of racing each other, and then sliding to the ground to go skidding on their sides across the ice to see who could go further.

Commander Vir could remain on his feet, but it was nothing pretty.

Ramirez laughed and hooted from where he sat beside Krill on the open ramp his feet resting straight out on the ice.

Commander Vir skidded to an awkward flailing halt just before him after a while, “hey, aren’t you coming.”

Krill detected a subtle hint of embarrassment on the marine’s face, “I’m actually just having fun watching.”

“Do you not know how.” THe commander wondered.

The marine shuffled his feet, “it's not that I don’t know how.”

“Then come on.” He reached down grabbing ramirez by the hand and hauling him to his feet nearly toppling backwards, but Ramirez caught the two of them, and they slid out onto the ice. Commander Vir grinned, “Well that worked a bit better than I had intended.”

Ramirez let him go, “Ok, ok, you got me.”

He then skated a tight circle around the Commander, and there was…. Something different about the way he moved as if he was testing the ice.

He watched the marine effortlessly slid forward cutting between the figures and around his flailing counterparts slowly gaining speed. He crossed one foot over the other and turned around. Krill covered his eyes expecting the human to go plowing into the ice.

That was when the human began skating backwards hands behind his back.

It looked effortless.

He slid past Dr. Katie who whistled, “WHOO Ramirez, you go.”

The others had turned to look now, as the human cut backwards in a wide circle, his legs crossing back and forth and back and forth with ease. The backwards skate changed as he added a couple of quick spins while still maintaining his wide parabola. The other humans slid to a stop.

Ramirez came around another corner one leg fully off the ground.

Krill grimaced.

Someone had had music playing from a speaker by one of the other ships, and as the field grew quiet, the human picked up on the beat skating backwards, and in circles and little twists.Arms were thrown in and he rolled like a stalk of grass caught in high wind, never falling over.

One leg, two legs, little spins.

And that's when the idiot started jumping, tiny little hops at first, using the picks at the front of the skates to gain traction before leaping into the air. Then he’d jump into the air and turn landing on the other foot.

The humans were cheering.

There was no way this was real, it was so strange. The amount of coordination flexibility and trust in his own body was phenomenal and impossible. There was no way. Ramirez rolled past backwards bringing his arms into a tight spin that had him as a blur, then he'd open up his arms to slow his momentum skating out of it again.

Commander Vir whistled, “Ramirez, you sexy bastard, do a flip.” Ramirez rolled past again, “Are you flirting with me commander?” He teased

Commander Vir crossed his arms grinning not backing down, “Stop being so talented and you want have this problem.”

He slid back the other way on one leg.

“Buy me dinner first.”

“I'll buy you dinner if you do a flip.” The human slid backwards in the other direction again gaining speed.

“I haven’t warmed up.”

“Do it.”

The human spun in another circle now legs crossing and then leaped into the air. Krill squealed and went to hide his eyes but couldn’t look away.

One

Two

Three rotations.

He hit the ground on one leg arms out to the side and slid backwards in a tight circle with a grace almost inhuman. Together the humans erupted into cheers clapping and hollering.

“You owe me dinner.”

Commander Vir laughed, “That was a spin not a flip, but I guess I'll consider it.”

Ramirez frowned, “No no, you’ll get what you want.”

Even commander vir was beginning to look concerned now, “I you don’t have to, you win.”

“No, you insisted.”

The humans had gone to shaking their heads now giving warning calls. This was bad this as very very bad. Ramirez skated out and then turned around moving forward slowly at a middling speed and then jumped throwing his feet over his head. Light ran over blades as, for a moment his head was oriented towards the ground and his feet towards the sky, and then he landed, feet first.

It was the first time Krill had seen him off balance. He skidded failed and then fell backwards landing on his hands as he slid into the circle of humans.

But despite his fall the humans erupted with cheering.

“Holy shit.” The commander said looking surprised.

“You owe me dinner for a month.” Ramirez pointed out chin jutting in defiance.

Commander Vir hauld him to his feet, “Fine, you win, I wont even argue because that was fucking awesome. Where did you learn to do that?”

He shuffled his feet in embarrassment, “Er…. well. Because I was training for the Olympics.”

“WHAT. Well why didn’t you go, you’re so good.”

He shrugged, “Because ice skaters don’t go to space. I wanted to serve humanity, so I joined the UNSC instead. I still skate when I can, but I don’t regret what I did.”

The entire crew was alerted to their return, not because they really intended it, but because there was no point in trying to stop Krill’s tirade and no way to quiet him once he had gotten going, “OUTRAGEOUS STUPIDITY. Gallivanting around without the use of FRICTION strapping knives to your feet and then dancing on it. Twisted ankles, concussions, broken tailbones, all so that you can look cool. And you aren’t even happy with just being able to transport, but you have to be able to do tricks throwing ourselves off balance on purpose jumping into the air DOING FLIPS ON ICE WHERE THERE IS NO FRICTION.” Commander Vir walked past the staring crew carrying the angry Vrul under one arm.

“Don’t mind us.”

“And you call this morale! I should have known that when you said this it was going to involve ENDANGERING PEOPLE LIVES.”

He walked out of the room and Krill’s voice slowly faded down the hall.

“INCONCEIVABLE BARBARISM, IDIOCY, LUNACY. A QUICK PATH TO YOUR GRAVES DUG PAVED WITH lunacy and my own broken sanity you crazy ass bastard! Constantly putting the life of your crew...in.... .....danger.....

#humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #HUMANS ARE WEIRD #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia

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tros-for-dinner · 4 years

Text

[TROS re-write: in this version, the secret Finn has been keeping throughout the movie is that he doesn’t want to kill for the Resistance either, and he wants to save the stormtroopers. Poe remembers his failure in TLJ and his secret in this movie is he’s afraid he’s not a good leader and he’s going to mess up again. After freeing Rose (instead of Chewie) from the star destroyer, escaping by the skin of their teeth, and crash-landing the Falcon on Kef Bir (Endor’s moon, I had to look it up), the team meets the colony of escaped troopers and decide to spend the night recuperating.]

Poe finds Finn at a distance from the fire, staring at the flames without seeing them. Poe sits beside him on the bench, a strange apprehensiveness fluttering through him. He’s never seen Finn this withdrawn.

“What is it?” he asks quietly. His worry intensifies when Finn blinks back into the present, to Poe, then glances away. “We made it out okay,” Poe tries to reassure, making a stab in the dark. “We all made it out okay, Finn. You don’t have to keep worrying.”

Instead of replying, Finn sighs, heavily, and Poe is startled to see tears well up in his eyes. Automatically, he reaches out to grip Finn’s shoulder, try and provide some reassurance. Finn reaches up to grip Poe’s hand but still doesn’t look at him.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me,” Poe implores. It hurts more than he could have imagined when Finn still doesn’t look or move to speak.

“Can I, though?” Finn finally says, almost too quietly to hear.

When Poe realizes what Finn said, his jaw drops and it’s on the tip of his tongue to retort - What is that supposed to mean?! - when a mirage of General Organa appears in his mind’s eye, glaring at him for being so undiplomatic in such a sensitive situation. He swallows down his retort and fishes at length for what he needs to say.

“All I know,” he eventually says carefully, “is that you need to talk to someone, and if you would be more comfortable talking to Rey, I will get up right now and get her.”

Finn sighs again, but it’s different. “No,” he says, and squeezes Poe’s hand, “you’re the one I need to talk to.”

Finn sighs again, shaking his head. “What do you remember…from Crait?”

There’s a lot of things he remembers from Crait, but before he can reply, Finn sighs again. “Rose said to me, after our failed bombing run, ‘we have to fight to save what we love’, instead of, you know, killing what we hate and…I’ve been thinking about that nearly every day.” He sighs and shifts in his seat to throw his head back and look up at the stars. “Have you ever talked to Rey about the Force?”

“Not really,” Poe says, trying to keep any negative emotions out of his voice. Religion isn’t really something he puts stock into, as a general rule, and it’s really unnerving to see objects move under unseen power when they’re supposed to be stationary.

“I don’t have the Force. Not like Rey does. But…” Finn trails off, visibly thinking. “The Force is like standing in a river: I can feel it pressing on me, swirling around me, but I can’t see the currents in the water.”

Poe blinks. “I thought you didn’t have the Force.”

Finn shakes his head. “I can’t control it like Rey can, but I can feel it. I always have but I didn’t know how to understand it.” For a very long moment, he doesn’t speak, then: “Getting Rose out, being on that Star Destroyer…I’d forgotten how bad it was but it all came rushing back.” Poe can see tears glimmering in his eyes again.

“How bad what was?” Poe asks, as gently as he can.

Finn shakes his head again, pressing his eyes shut. Tears run down down his cheeks, glinting in the firelight. “The air on the ship is just…unbearable. The misery. The…you’re surrounded by so many people but you’re so alone, all the time. They took everything from us: our names, our selves - and then our lives. They erased us so that only the armor remained. No one can live like that, and I can’t believe I’d forgotten how bad it was. I thought I was the only trooper that ever got out.”

“But you weren’t,” Poe anticipates, and Finn nods, somehow looking even more miserable than before. Poe doesn’t understand. “Buddy, you just gotta celebrate whatever wins we get! It’s great that Jannah and her group got out!”

Finn nods even as his face crumples. “You’re right,” he manages to get out, but then starts to cry in earnest. Poe throws caution into the wind and pulls Finn into an embrace; thankfully, Finn goes willingly and sobs into his shoulder, squeezing Poe tightly in his arms. Poe feels terrible - he’d been so upset Finn was keeping a secret from him just a few days ago. He had no idea Finn was holding on to something so heavy.

“Please tell me what’s wrong,” he pleads, so quietly that he knows only Finn can hear him, as his sorrow winds down and his grip lessens.

“I left the First Order because I didn’t want to kill for them,” Finn says, voice hoarse and cracking around unshed tears. “I can’t kill for the Rebellion, Poe. I can’t do it. I can’t…” he dissolves back into tears, and Poe rocks him like his mother used to even though he feels like Finn punched him in the stomach. Suddenly so much makes sense, and Poe feels terrible that he caused Finn to feel like this.

“It’s okay,” Finn manages to say, and it takes Poe a beat to realize he’s replying to Poe’s unspoken sentiment. “It took me a while to figure and I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Finn, if you can’t tell your best bud something like this that’s eating you up, I’m doing a fairly crappy job,” he says, and that gets Finn to laugh a bit. “Okay, I’m taking you off gun duty, that’s no problem,” Poe says, even though that is a problem in the grand scheme of things. Maybe he can hook BB up to the gun on the Falcon - Rose and Finn said BB took over an AT-AT on the Star Destroyer to help them escape; bet that was a hell of a show…

Poe realizes that Finn has stopped crying but is now tense in his arms. Poe loosens his grip and Finn pulls away to arm’s length, not looking at Poe.

“That’s not everything,” Poe realizes, watching his reaction. When Finn doesn’t look at him, Poe takes hold of his shoulders and squeezes them gently, trying to hug him without pulling him close again. “Finn, whatever it is, I promise I’m not going to be angry. You are my best friend. I can’t help you until you tell me what you need.”

Finn doesn’t speak for a moment, then he exhales shakily. “I thought BB was your best friend,” he says, and it takes Poe a second to realize the non-sequitur is a joke.

He frowns at Finn even as a laugh is trying to bubble up. Jokes are a good sign. “BB may be adorable but best friend has been you for a while, buddy.”

Finn gives him a grateful - if watery - smile and reaches up to grip Poe’s hand on his shoulder. “I realized,” he says, looking down at his shoes, “when Rose briefed us on the condition of the fleet that taking down the control tower isolates the ships. While the number of ‘troopers has stayed the same, intelligence shows they’re going to skeleton crews as far as officers and command crew go. Isolating the ships from their neighbors would make sure that if something happened to the command crew, the ship would be dead in the water for as long as it took to get the command tower back online.”

Poe squints at him and has to search for a diplomatic response. “That’s the general plan, yes,” he manages to say without it being condescending, but Finn shakes his head.

“Poe,” he says, lifting his gaze to look at the man directly, “the full number of troopers is ten thousand on each star destroyer. Ten thousand troopers per ship, suffering cycle after cycle, and who knows how many looking for a way to escape. The Rebellion shoots them out of the sky without even offering surrender.”

Poe suddenly, viscerally understands what Finn is trying to say. “The command crew will never surrender,” his mouth says automatically even as his brain calculates the consequences of what Finn is implying, as if he was right back in the cockpit of his X-wing in the middle of a dogfight. It’s insane. It’s impossible. It’s something that has never been done before in the history of the Rebellion.

Finn looks him directly in the eyes and grips Poe’s shoulders in a mirroring gesture. “The command crew is outnumbered by troopers ten-to-one,” he says intently, not looking away even to blink. “Jannah told me today that the ‘troopers are still using the same private comm channels as before I got out. Poe,” he says, shaking the man in emphasis, “all we would have to do is cut the ship off, broadcast to the troopers, offer surrender, Poe…”

“How would we get the ‘troopers off the ship?” Poe asks, but he’s already calculated the answer. He closes his eyes. “If the troopers take over the ship, we won’t have to get them out. We just have to support them until we can get everything sorted out.”

Finn shakes him a little and Poe opens his eyes to look at him. “If only a few want to defect,” Finn says quietly, “there are drop-ships they can take out. But I was thinking something more ambitious.”

Poe raises his eyebrows incredulously, unable to verbalize the question. Finn looks right at him, a sort of steely determination mixed with palpable fear. “Me and Rey could break into the command center and force them to surrender.”

Poe’s hands, still on Finn’s shoulders, unconsciously tighten grip. His mind is blank. “That’s…” he manages to speak, but can’t go on. Suicide! his mind shouts but he can’t force himself to say.

Finn’s eyes are pleading, now. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you,” he whispers. “I know there’s so much risk. Poe, before you and I got out, I was a model trooper. I never even questioned the system, I just did what they told me. But the Force brought us together and you got me out, and now it’s time for me to pay it forward. If I could save just one of them, all of this would be worth it, but we have the opportunity to save all of them.” The firelight flickers against the tears in Finn’s eyes. “Poe, I am going to do this, whether you help me or not.”

Poe feels - like gravity has somehow been inverted, maybe. Or he mistook zeroes for ones, or confused some of the switches in his cockpit. The plan Finn is suggesting goes against everything he’s been taught since he joined the war but………

Gazing at Finn’s earnest face, while sitting in a village of rebel Stormtroopers, Finn’s plan feels overwhelmingly right. It feels right in a way that nothing has since the Resistance fled D’Qar, since his failure decimated the Resistance, since the remainder escaped Crait with nothing but the clothes on their backs and the fires in their souls. Poe can almost see the battle plan in his mind’s eye like he read it out of a book: the Resistance’s remaining pilots will do everything they can to distract the command crew while Finn and his team take down the tower and broadcast the revolution to the ‘troopers. If they can get just one star destroyer to surrender, it would turn the tide. If they can get just a few drop-ships of defected troopers, it’ll strike a blow. We are the spark of hope that will light the fire…

“Yeah,” Poe says, squeezing Finn’s shoulders to convey his seriousness, nodding slowly at first, then more emphatically as his mind grows used to it, “yeah, I’m in.”

Hope dawns across Finn’s face, growing into amazement.

“I’ll help you,” Poe says, and can’t stand it anymore - he pulls Finn in close and hugs him as hard as he can. Finn doesn’t hesitate to hug back, burying his face into Poe’s shoulder. Tears spring into Poe’s eyes and then he’s laughing and crying all at once. Finn starts to shake, then they’re laughing and crying together, holding on to each other as tightly as they possibly can.

“You promise to tell me next time you get an idea like this in your head?” Poe asks, buoyant with fear and hope and love, overflowing with it.

“I promise,” Finn answers, and hugs him even tighter.

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ladynestaarcheron · 4 years

Text

Like Pristine Glass - Chapter Thirteen

ao3 - ff.net - masterpost

(tagging these cuties: @humanexile @skychild29 @rhysandsdarlingfeyre @candid-confetti @rhysandsrightknee @missing-merlin @azriels-forgotten-shadow @books-and-cocos @sezkins79 @city-of-fae @someonemagical @dusty-lightbulb @messyhairday-me)

my eternal thanks to @thestarwhowishes for being my wonderful beta. and to you all for being my wonderful readers<3

chapter thirteen, without further ado!

---

November 7 - 4 years after

It’s early morning when he arrives in Velaris. He’s exhausted, having spent a long day in the Illyrian mountains after flying back from Gilameyva. It is miserable to be back in the mountains, and more miserable still to arrive in Velaris and learn that it’s not any better.

If anything, it’s worse. Because he had expected to be happier here than in Illyria—who wouldn’t? The two barely belong in the same court, with one so picturesque and overflowing with joy and the other a messy series of war camps, still bleeding out from the hasty stitches patched upon it after the rebellions—and he isn’t. He can’t be happy anywhere, now.

“You’re back.”

Cassian turns to see the surprised pleasure in Mor’s voice echoed on her face. He gives her an easy grin. “Miss me?”

She slugs his arm lightly as she grins back. “Not particularly.” Her tone changes, more gentle. “How were they?”

He stifles a sigh. He worries he might break down sobbing if he lets it out. “They’re… amazing.”

“Good,” she says, rubbing her hand on his shoulder. “That’s good.”

Cassian sits himself down in one of the large armchairs, draping his wings over the back. “Yeah,” he says. “It’s good.”

She curls up on one of the couches beside him. “You miss them.”

It’s not a question, so he doesn’t answer. Just nods his head a little.

He’s heard before, that people who don’t have children simply can’t understand. He has, privately, rolled his eyes. For he has loved before, has he not? Rhys and Az and then Mor and even Amren, and the whole Illyria and the Night Court and Feyre and then for those few months with her in the mountains, he had loved Nesta.

This is not the same.

He doesn’t miss them. That’s not nearly enough. But he’s never been one for words, so the slight nod is all he can give.

“Did you ask her to bring them for Solstice?”

He frowns slightly; he doesn’t like how she phrases it. It isn’t consciously done, he knows. Mor has no malicious intent. But he doesn’t like the implication that she is bringing them for them, the children, to be here, and not them, a family unit that is he and Nesta and the triplets, to be together.

But he supposes she is right. If Nesta comes, it won’t be for her sake. Not for a them.

“I did. She’ll think about it.”

Mor’s better at hiding her frown than he is, but he can still see it in her eyes.

“It’s her right to say no,” he defends. Which he doesn’t like. He doesn’t like it because it’s true and it might happen and also because he doesn’t want to have to defend Nesta to Mor or Rhys or Amren, or even Az sometimes. At least Feyre and Elain love her too, and they have some semblance of camaraderie with him in that.

He doesn’t like it rather selfishly: he wants to defend his right to have his family for Solstice, but because his other family doesn’t see Nesta as part of them, he has to defend her.

Cassian wonders, briefly, if this is how Feyre ever felt. Trapped between two realms, two families. Or maybe even Rhys.

“I didn’t mean it wasn’t,” she says carefully. “Just… you’re their father too.”

“It’s different.” He looks at his hands, callused and scarred. “Even if I had been with them since they were born… I still wouldn’t be with them all the time.”

“You’re keeping them safe,” she says. “You’re keeping the world safe for them. That’s important too.”

Sugar Valley is safe, he thinks, but he keeps it to himself. No one will mind, of course. They will be sympathetic. They’ll think he’s bitter, upset, think they can help him get past his guilt and move on.

But he doesn’t think it ever will. And the thought of staying anonymous in a sleepy town across the sea winks at him from the dying starlight as the sun rises over the Sidra.

---

November 21 - year after

The cheery pastels of the clinic were not helping to improve Nesta’s mood. Nor were the mother and child, hand in hand, waiting across from her.

The child blinked up at her from long lashes, blushing slightly when she made eye contact. She looked away in alarm as he gave her a pleased grin.

There should be a different room for children, she thought. When people were coming for… this.

It wasn’t that she felt guilty. She just didn’t want to think about it.

So she counted the sugarberries painted on the walls, and before long, Dadashov called her name.

“Good morning, Miss Archeron,” she said smoothly. “Can I offer you some tea?”

“No. Thank you.” How could she eat anything now? With every movement of her stomach feeling like something entirely different than butterflies.

“All right, then,” she said. “If you’d lie down, please...”

Nesta did, fidgeting with her skirts.

“How does the… procedure… how do you do it?”

“Well,” Dadashov said, hooking some wired contraption around her ears, “The procedure itself is only a tonic. A bit sour. You’ll stay here for a few hours, until the worst of the cramps have past, so I can keep an eye on you, and you’ll be home by afternoon. Rest for the next day or so. Until you feel yourself again. Before that,” Dadashov continued, either completely oblivious to or respectfully ignoring Nesta’s panic at feeling herself again, “I’ll need to do a quick check to make sure everything is in order.”

“Everything in order? With me, or…?”

“Certain conditions in the uterus rendering this particular tonic unusable or harmful to your body are rare but not unheard of. And we’ll need to make sure the fetus is in its correct position.”

“Where else would it be?” she wondered.

“Let’s not worry about that now,” she said gently. “I’m going to listen in, all right? I have this sheet… if you could raise your skirts, please… thank you. This won’t hurt a bit; it’s only rather cold.”

Nesta sucked in a breath as Dadashov placed the circle her wires are connected to on her lower stomach. Cold was an understatement.

Dadashov was silent for a few moments as she listened to… Nesta wasn’t sure.

“Hm,” she said quietly.

“Everything all right?” she asked, feeling stupid.

“Well,” she said, taking off her contraption and sitting up. “The heartbeat is irregular.”

“Irregular?”

“Erratic. Wild. No discernible rhythm at all, actually.”

Nesta’s own heartbeat sped up, though she wasn’t sure why. What did it matter if the heartbeat wasn’t normal? It wouldn’t be beating by sundown, anyway. “What does that mean?”

“A number of things. What I’m most concerned about right now is the natural state of your uterus. It could mean it’s shaped improperly or perhaps a growth pressing up against the fetus, preventing it from growing properly and affecting its heart rate. No cause for concern,” she said, giving Nesta a reassuring smile. “I’m calm because you are clearly healthy and if anything is amiss, I am here and we will take care of it. How is your cycle normally?”

“Um,” Nesta said. “Normal. It’s normal, I think.”

“Twice a year? About a week?”

“So far,” she said.

Dadashov smiled again, her light blue eyes twinkling. “Of course. My apologies. Until your transition, did you experience your cycle once a month?”

She said everything so calmly, so smoothly. Transition. Like some kind of choice. Or moving up in the world. “Yes. Well. Not every month. Sometimes… but that’s normal. Sometimes human girls miss a month.” A horrible thought struck Nesta. “Is it… could it be something I did? With… a contra—”

“Neither sex nor contraceptives could have a misshaping effect on your body, Miss Archeron,” she said firmly. “This is no one’s fault. I’m going to do a test. I’m going to be looking inside your body.”

“Inside my body?”

“Perhaps you’d like to close your eyes,” she said kindly. “It’s not horribly invasive, but it will feel odd. No, no, you don’t have to move. It’s a bit of magic. I put it on top of your lower abdomen.”

On top of her… to look inside her body… “Are you going to see...” Nesta trailed off.

“Perhaps you’d like to close your eyes,” she repeated.

Nesta did. Dadashov moved quickly, quietly, which made it rather eerie when something suddenly settled atop her. A bit of pressure, squeezing her—odd, not painful, just like she said.

“Ah,” Dadashov breathed out.

What was that Nesta could hear? Was it… awe?

“What is it?”

Dadashov was silent for a beat. “Miss Archeron, there is nothing wrong with your body. The heartbeat was irregular because I was hearing more than one.”

“You mean mine?”

“No,” she said, patient. “Not yours.”

Her heart gave a lurch. “You mean… twins?”

“No,” Dadashov said, softer still. “I mean triplets.”

Triplets.

Triplets. Inside of her. Right now.

Nesta could feel her mind shut down. “You mean three of them?” she blurted out, in the most idiotic way she possibly could, her eyes flying open.

“I do.”

Nesta closed her eyes again.

“Would you like to see?” she offered quietly.

Nesta put her hands right over where… where they were supposed to be. She sat up abruptly.

“No,” she said. “I need to… think.”

---

November 7 - 4 years after

He can’t concentrate during the briefing. After being with them for so long… and then coming back here… it’s too much. He’s angry at himself; what if he misspeaks? What if he misses something? This is dangerous.

But he can’t help it. His thoughts are elsewhere.

Nothing had taken away from his love and devotion to this court, to his people, his legions, before. Not even Nesta.

That’s why she had left. He never could find the balance.

Not like Rhys and Feyre, seated next to each other, the perfect mix of professional and adoring. Strategic discussions and little touches here and there: her hair, his thigh.

Is he even a good commander if he can’t concentrate?

They can sense it, all of them. It’s an odd display of cautionary tact that comes up now, whenever Nesta and the children are involved.

So Cassian’s not surprised when Rhys corners him after.

“I’m out of practice,” he says, jerking his head in the direction of the sparring ring. “Join me?”

So he does.

He’s better than Rhys at hand-to-hand, and it does force him to concentrate on something else, which is… nice.

When they’re done, half an hour later, Rhys says, “How did it go?”

Cassian looses a breath slowly as he swirls around the water in the cup Rhys hands him. “So well,” he says, all the gratitude in the world in his voice.

“That’s good,” he says, echoing Mor’s sentiments from earlier.

“I need them.” He’s never said it aloud before.

“I know.”

“All of them. Nesta too.”

“I know,” Rhys repeats. “That’s why I want them here.”

Cassian snorts. “You want Nesta here?”

“I want you here. Happy. And Feyre. Elain. She’s a part of that. And I’m certainly not suggesting we move the children back and forth.”

Cassian pauses. “I don’t know if… Nesta… could be happy here.”

Rhys is quiet for a minute, drinking his water. “I don’t know her very well,” he says finally, “but I think anyone could be happy here. Given the correct circumstances.” He hesitates. “Have you thought about… getting an apartment?”

Cassian clenches his jaw.

“You said you want her to come for Solstice. I doubt she’ll want to stay here. Or the townhouse. Or the House of Wind. Maybe you should have a place that’s just for you.”

He does like that—that Rhys says you as if there is a them. Perhaps he understands, in a way Mor does not.

“I wish they got along,” he says aloud.

“Who?”

“Nesta and Mor.”

��Rhys laughs. “Maybe Emerie can bond them.”

He doubts it. The idea of Nesta and Mor being friends is too ludicrous to even entertain. Neither of them are particularly keen on forgiveness, and they have plenty of reasons to loathe each other. Most of which he doesn’t understand.

“I think she’ll come,” he says.

“You do?” Rhys wouldn’t give him false hope. And he genuinely doesn’t know the answer.

“I do,” he says. “Mostly because Feyre thinks she will, too,” he admits. “But also… I don’t know her well, but I do know enough. I know she’s scared to fail her children.”

It’s a chilling line, miserable to hear. Cassian doesn’t want Nesta to come because she’s scared of what will happen if she doesn’t; he wants her to want to come.

“There’s a place I think you’ll like,” Rhys continues, either unaware of Cassian’s reaction or respectfully ignoring it. “Property just went up for sale. Four bedrooms. Nice yard. Good location.” Rhys gives him the address.

“I’ll look at it,” he says. Four bedrooms, he thinks.

---

December 19 - Year of

Despite what Nesta told Emerie before her dinner with Cassian, the past three weeks had not been fake cordial. They hadn’t even been real cordial.

They had been… friendly.

They had breakfast together, when he was there. And dinner, too. He always had dinner ready for her when she came home.

(That was something alarming: she began to think of coming back to Cassian’s house as coming home.)

He brought her more books to read. He didn’t speak of his brothers or her sisters. Neither did she. They talked about food. About the going-ons in the neighboring camps. About themselves.

He still teased her, but when she snapped at him for it, she wasn’t really angry.

She had almost forgotten they were supposed to be treading on eggshells until he reminded her.

He said, “I need to go back to Velaris. For Solstice.”

Her eyes flashed, but she was still staring at her book, so perhaps he didn’t see. “Oh, when is that?” she asked, in a would-be casual tone. She knew full well, and he knew she did, too.

“Two days.”

“Oh.”

Perhaps the both of them were thinking… no, they were both definitely thinking of their last Solstice together. If they could call it that.

Then it was Cassian’s turn to pretend. “Do you want to come along?”

Nesta put down her book and leaned back against the couch. “No,” she said, looking up at the ceiling and locking her fingers behind her head. “I think I’ll stay here.”

“All right,” he said evenly. He sat down beside her—a little closer than he had ever done before. “Well, I leave you then with this… to keep you company.”

Nesta looked down at his outstretched hand.

The chocolate bar. The one she still hadn’t touched.

A wry sort of chuckle escaped her as she rolled her eyes at him. “Thanks,” she said as she took it from him, her fingers jolting as they brushed his.

He grinned wickedly. “Anytime.”

She dropped her gaze quickly. “You’re bothering me.” She took her book back.

He laughed. “I’ll see you in a few days, Nes.”

“Don’t call me that,” she grumbled.

But again, it was only halfhearted.

---

November 21 - 1 year after

What Nesta wanted when she stumbled out of the clinic was somewhere quiet, alone, to gather her thoughts. Or scream.

Instead she got that deer-satyr from Sugar Books, holding up a cup of something steaming.

“Hey,” he said pleasantly. “I was just coming over to bring you this.”

“Oh, for the love of all that is holy,” she said under her breath. Louder, to him, she said, “I really can’t right now.”

“Just a drink,” he said, holding it out to her. “Do you like chocolate?”

She bit her lip. She did like chocolate. She did not like feeling like she owed males something.

“Just take it,” he encouraged. “And come on. I can show you some place nice to sit.”

It wasn’t that she wanted to go with him. It’s that she had nowhere else.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said, not realizing she had spoken aloud until he answered.

“About what?”

“I don’t...” she mumbled to herself. “I don’t think… I can’t...”

“Woah, Nesta. Here. Sit down. Here, drink some of this.”

It wasn’t the same. One was quiet, a bad memory, hazy. Something she could convince herself didn’t happen.

But three? Three was so… real. Three different beings. Three different people! How could there be three people inside of her, growing and feeding off of her? All together? How small must they be, for them all to fit?

And they all had heartbeats. Three tiny hearts, beating out of sync with each other deep inside her. Each of them with its own rhythm, its own strong pulse.

In another life, another world, another body, three sisters had once shared a bed. What would have happened if they had shared time in the womb? All three of them, together?

Sisters deserved beds of their own, that much she knew for sure.

Three was too much. Too much to think about, and yet too much to have.

Bad things come in threes. Didn’t they say that? People said that, she was sure of it.

Maybe, she thought wildly, she could keep one. Just one. And the others… somehow…

No. That was crazy. She couldn’t do that. Could she?

And how would she choose?

“I can’t do this,” she said again.

“Nesta, please, drink this.” Zayn wrapped her fingers around the cup. “Go on, drink.”

As the hot, berry-chocolate drink slipped down her throat, she realized three other people were going to have it, too.

“I—I,” Nesta stammered.

“What is it?” He sounded too eager. Was that concern?

“I… I have to… get a house.”

---

November 8 - 4 years after

Rhys was right. He does like the house.

It’s a great location. Comfortable walk from the bank of the Sidra he always sees families play. Close enough to the Rainbow that they can walk there, too. A bakery on the corner, a butcher’s just beyond, and a market a block down. And a nursery, too, just three streets away.

It’s spacious. Big windows and less doors than there are rooms. There’s a proper dining area—Nesta’s house doesn’t really have one, just the table in the kitchen.

Of the bedrooms, two are a bit smaller than the third, so that, he supposes, is where the children can stay while they all sleep in the same room. A nice tub in that bathroom, which is good, they’re still small enough that they bathe together…

And he’s just pushed open the door to the master when he hears Amren say from behind him, “In the market for a family home?”

He turns. “Are you? I thought Varian was looking romanced last I saw him. That explains it.”

She rolls her eyes where she once might have bared her teeth. “Close to a nursery,” she says, pushing past him to stand in the room. “And you can see all the way to the park from here,” she adds, peering through the window. “Good for if you’re staying in bed.”

Now Cassian rolls his eyes, if only to hide the clench in his jaw.

“Is she coming for Solstice, then?”

Amren says it the same way she says everything: cool, detached, unbothered. But Cassian knows. “She hasn’t given me an answer yet.”

Amren pretends to take interest in the sample decorative pillows. “What do you think she’ll say?”

“I don’t know. Yes, I hope.”

She puts down the pillow. “You’re too hopeful. It doesn’t help you think.”

“You’ve not asked about her at all,” he says, sitting down on the bed.

“I don’t think there’s anything I want to know.” She doesn’t say it with malice.

“You don’t care?”

“She’s alive. She’s fine.”

“We thought she was dead.”

“We were wrong.” She pauses. “If you had known… where she was… would you have gone?”

“Of course,” he says immediately.

“Why did you not go when you knew she was in Montesere?”

He flinches. Do you even care about her? is what she’s asking. Is it only for the children?

Every regret he has has something to do with her.

“Why didn’t you go?”

“I do not go now,” she says simply. “I was angry when she left. When we thought she was dead and we looked for her I was angry. And I’m angry now.”

“She’s not the only one to blame.”

Amren shrugs. “I can be angry at more than one person. Don’t sit on the bed like that.”

“Like what?”

“Longing. Yearning. Pathetic.”

“I’m not yearning.”

“You are. It doesn’t flatter you. Nesta will come.”

“How do you know that?” She sounds so certain, so matter-of-fact and cavalier.

She gestures to him. “It’s not one-sided.”

Cassian moves his eyes out towards the window, feeling very out his element. “She has a life of her own.”

“I know about her bookstore. That doesn’t matter.”

“It matters.”

She waves a hand. “Not in the grand scheme of things. Nesta Archeron is very much herself. She doesn’t change. She decides on things before she knows she wants them. And she doesn’t change her mind.”

Amren leaves him alone with his thoughts. She’s simplifying things, he knows, but he desperately hopes the core of it is right.

She had asked him why he didn’t go. He waits in masochistic anticipation for the day Nesta asks him that as well. Why he had not followed up on her letters, vague and frustrating as they were.

There’s nothing he can really do about it now. Except maybe make an offer on the house.

---

Chapter Fourteen

#nessian au #acotar au #acotar fanfiction #nesta archeron #cassian #allllll riiiight here we go!#by which i mean i'm going to go make focaccia #and so not going to blabber in the tags this time around #perhaps i will bless you with pictures of my focaccia later tonight #and blabber on about whatever #love y'all<3

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aliceslantern · 5 years

Text

Retribution, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 5

Newly a person again, Ienzo is weighed down by guilt and his humanity. He's prepared to do whatever it takes to atone... only to find unexpected solace in a familiar face. With more insight into the bonds between people than ever before, Ienzo reaches for a dangerous element from the past to help Kairi and Riku in their search for Sora. What is his life if it means saving another, brighter light?

Chapter summary: Ienzo tries to make humanity his new project, with limited success.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Ienzo tried to do as Even said. He took the pills--one in the morning, one at night. He set a timer and forced himself to eat every four hours, though he had little appetite. The weight he’d lost from his heavy magic use began to come back on. He no longer felt so dizzy or achy.

But the anti-anxiety medication made him feel a bit foggy, a bit dissociative. He passed the time reading about it. For the first time in months, Ienzo visited the library for the sake of fiction, and spent a pleasurable few days rereading an old childhood favorite.

He tried to write and reflect as to what this whole experience had taught him, but found himself staring at blank pages, blank screens. Was he not ready, to delve into this mess? Or did he have nothing of insight to say?

This abandoned, Ienzo went outside.

It was summer now, and very warm, the bright light a shock to his tender eyes. He suspected he was beginning to need glasses, no doubt an accumulation of years in front of pages and screens. He saw children playing in the streets, groups of friends, a young couple or two with their hands linked. Compared to the empty, massive castle, Radiant Garden felt full of life.

Nobody seemed to recognize him, and for this he was grateful. He kept walking, letting his mind wander, eavesdropping idly and taking in the colors and smells, all of it too much in a good way. He walked, he drifted. Without consciously realizing it, he’d brought himself to the cemetery.

It was well-kept, despite the obvious bits of destruction--broken memorial stones, the brick wall still a work in progress, grass growing over gouge marks from Heartless. For a second Ienzo struggled to remember where it was before sense memory kicked in.

There they were, side-by-side. The mortuary tablets were rather dirty. If he’d known, he would’ve brought supplies to clean. Disrespectful. He read his parents’ names, his own old surname before the adoption gave him Ansem’s. He whispered the name aloud, just to hear it. It was much softer sounding than Zexion. Light. Rhythmic.

The idea had originally been for his parents to be apprentices, not him. They were both scholars in their own right, his mother a botanist, his father a physicist. They’d hoped to be older before they had their first child, but these things happened, and they did so love Ienzo, as Ansem had told him. Noticing Ienzo’s brilliance… and hoping to grant his parents’ wishes… Ansem took him in and gave him an education. And the rest was history.

He knelt and bowed his head. He barely remembered either of these people, just flashes of joy and warmth and comfort; a pat on the head, hands tucking him in. He’d only been five when they passed, a freak accident, a fire. It hadn’t been the flames that killed them, but the smoke; only a well-placed wet cloth over his own nose and mouth had kept him alive until the fire brigade arrived.

Ienzo wished he didn’t remember this, but he did. The house had been built into a stone wall, and the internal structure collapsed, blocking the only real door. Father had tried his hardest to carve a way out, but he was a physically weak academic and the smoke got him, falling first to his knees. Mother had turned Ienzo’s face away, sang him a lullaby, curled him a bit more tightly in her arms--

What good was thinking about this?

What would they think of him now? If they knew what he’d do? Would Mother perhaps have held that cloth a little tighter, a little closer, until--

“Ienzo? What are you doing here?”

His head snapped up. He saw Dilan, in casual clothing, his eyes mottled and red. “I suppose… the same as you,” he said. He knew distantly that Dilan had lost a lover at some point; not through any conscious admittance by the man himself, but through drunken conversations Ienzo had eavesdropped on.

Dilan came closer and looked down at the memorials. “I… remember that day all too well,” he said, with a sigh. “Your parents weren’t the only ones who were lost in that fire. That part of town… the houses were too much on top of one another. You might consider yourself lucky.”

Ienzo laughed. “In a cosmic way, I suppose I am.”

Another pause. Then more cautiously, “she was a lovely woman, your mother. Very warm. I’ve hardly ever met a scientist who was so good-humored. I think in some lights you look like her.”

Ienzo cocked his head. “Really?”

“Well, the premature gray is unmistakable. And here…” He gestured to his jaw.

Ienzo looked at his palms. “Is it bad that I scarcely remember what they looked like?” All of their possessions had been lost in the fire, including photos.

“Oh, there may be a picture or two hanging around--there would’ve been official portraits when they took on the apprenticeship,” Dilan explained, at his baffled expression. “Would you like that, if I were to find them?”

“I would--very much so.” It took him a moment to realize why Dilan was being so saccharine to him. It was compensation. Ienzo stood slowly, flinching at the ache in his knees.

“You were so very young,” Dilan said. “So small. I remember thinking that.”

“I suppose you dissented then, when Ansem took me in?”

“Of course I did. What a place to raise a child, after all. But we didn’t do much parenting of you, did we?”

“...Quite.” Ienzo did not want to get into another screaming match. He turned to leave.

“Are you feeling better? I heard you were rather ill.”

The meditative mood that had come over him upon entering this place was quickly shattered. “Yes, I am,” he said.

“I’m aware we’ve… scarcely spoken in some years.”

Ienzo thought about it. Even in those “halcyon” days, he’d never been close to Dilan. And further pulled away to different teams in the Organization. “No, I don’t suppose we have.” Then again, what was there to say?

“Do you enjoy being human?” Dilan asked, the same way an adult might awkwardly ask a child something.

Ienzo shook his head; not in response, but the inanity of the question. “I’m afraid the jury’s still out. Not that I have a choice, here.”

“You have choices,” Dilan said. “So many.”

“Is your life written in stone, then?” he asked, sourly.

“The others wish to atone and I wish to keep them safe while they do so,” Dilan said. “So yes, I suppose.”

Ienzo cocked his head. “Safe from what? Heartless?”

“Those that may seek revenge,” Dilan said slowly.

Ienzo scoffed and turned away again.

“I am not being facetious.”

He shot him a look.

“We’ve wrought havoc on this town,” Dilan said. “The lives lost in our lab… people remember those loved ones, and miss them. Now it’s public knowledge we’re back… surely there may be more than some cruel words thrown at one on the street. People are armed to the teeth with all the Heartless.”

“Assassination would be too quick of a way to go,” Ienzo said simply. “More like they best let us fester in this guilt, if they wish for punishment.”

“Is that what you want? To be punished?”

Ienzo scowled. Twice was a coincidence; three times was a connection. Demyx, Even, now Dilan lecturing him about suffering. “Do I walk around with a boorish look on my face?”

Dilan raised an eyebrow. “I’ve noticed that as soon as your emotion reaches your face, you snap it back to neutral… put on a mask. Almost impressive, how quickly you can do it. Putting yourself aside… for whatever inane nonsense they subject you to. I’d hoped you would at least enjoy some pleasures of life, however small. Yet to not allow yourself to feel --”

“I feel ,” he spat. “entirely too much.” He was on the verge of adding, and you never allowed yourself to feel without a bottle in your hand , but didn’t.

“I suppose you must. The weight of emotion must be somewhat unbearable.”

“That,” he said, “is putting it mildly.”

Dilan considered. “Do you feel very bitter?”

This was very quickly becoming a confrontation, something Ienzo had no energy for. “Why is it you want to know?”

“Because if I were you, I would,” he said, with a shake of his head. “If I were you, after all you’d been put through, I’d leave that castle seething… and never come back. Why is it you stay?”

The last thing Ienzo expected him to say--he felt his eyebrows raise. “Well I’ve… work to do.”

“And the men you must work with?”

“Ansem has never wronged me. And Even and I are mending things. We’ve known one another for so long. I…” He trailed off uselessly, unable to identify the emotion now curdling within him. He squinted, trying to name it. It felt vaguely as though it were clamped to his thyroid. "I've no one else," he realized slowly, and it was a very, very cold revelation.

"...No," Dilan agreed. "Neither have I."

Ienzo swallowed. He was, again, teary. He'd never needed friends before, or people in general, content to squirrel himself away. But did he need people now? Really, truly?

If not for Demyx, for Even, it was very likely that his physical condition would have continued to deteriorate until he… what, died?

Quite possibly, yes.

Ienzo realized, so slowly, that he no longer desired death. Then what did he want?

What did he want?

A chance to set things right. But clearly so far what he'd been doing was… more or less an elegant form of slow-moving suicide. But what of his powers? Wasn't it worth it, to regain them? He felt more mixed up and confused than ever before. "Perhaps, then, we should try harder," he said slowly, and then left, lost in thought.

Ienzo didn't get far.

"Zo! You're up and about!"

He would be startled, but he wasn't. He seemed to perpetually run into Demyx lately. "Hello."

The other boy was flushed, grinning. There was a small harness over his shoulders, but devoid of packages. "How do you feel?"

"Quite a lot better," he admitted. "I must apologize to you. And thank you, for that matter."

He rubbed the back of his neck, but his expression was taut, tense. "I wouldn't just leave you there. I'm… good at delivering bodies. Right?"

Ienzo smiled a little. "That you are."

"So what happened?"

"In a word--overwork." He sighed. "Exhaustion, stress. It became too much for me. I've been… waylaid, until I recover, and find myself with far too much time on my hands."

He grinned. "Well. At least you're doing better. I'm done for a bit, so do you wanna get lunch?"

"...I could eat."

"Awesome. Let's go. You're going to love this place." His posture was different, and almost unconsciously now and again he would touch his back.

"Are you alright?" Ienzo asked, realizing the irony.

Demyx shrugged. "Real heavy stuff irritates my back. Old wound. You know?"

"...I guess business is going well?"

Demyx groaned. "Too well. I've barely had time to even… well, eat."

Ienzo wondered why Demyx didn't just shirk off. But he'd mentioned he'd like talking to people, and Kairi had said he was lonely. Perhaps delivering these packages gave him some much needed positive interaction--which he hardly ever received at the castle.

Demyx brought him over to a stand which seemed to be selling some kind of soup. The vendor greeted him by name. The smells were thick, delicious--scallions, spice, the salt of broth--and for the first time in months Ienzo felt hungry. "Who's your friend?" The woman asked.

Demyx clapped a hand on his shoulder. " This is my roomie Ienzo."

The touch was, again, disconcerting; he could almost feel the imprint of Demyx's hand, warm through the fabric. "Hello," he said.

The woman studied him. "That name is… familiar." She put out two servings of the meal, with chopsticks. "Wait. Aren't you--"

"...I was Ansem's ward," he admitted softly. "Ansem the Wise."

"...Yes," she said slowly. Then, to Demyx. "I thought you lived near the castle--not in it."

Demyx shrugged. "Same diff."

The woman studied Ienzo. There was something… careful, in her gaze. "It's a relief to know he's still alive. And you."

"Thank you. I appreciate it. It is good to be back in town."

She accepted Demyx's money without comment and they took their bowls to a nearby table.

"Guess you're a celebrity," Demyx said, clicking his chopsticks.

"Well, I was the king’s son. But it was a blood monarchy--I am no prince.” He sighed. “I suppose they… have no knowledge of my involvement." He stared down into his bowl of noodles. He had no idea if it was relieving or not to escape blame. He began eating, found it was all very good, the flavors subtle and well-mingled. "I suppose you must eat around town, then?"

"Yeah. There's so much to try, and it's all pretty cheap."

"I can repay you when we get back--"

Demyx clacked the chopsticks. "No, Ienzo. It's fine. I'm not exactly struggling. Scrooge is a cheapskate, but he pays his employees well."

Ienzo wondered what he did do with his money.

"I mean, I give Ansem some money for the room, and I feed myself, but…" A sigh. "You're going to think this is dumb."

"I doubt that."

"I want a house. A home. Eventually."

He blinked. "That's not stupid."

Demyx shrugged. "A place I can be me… where I can't be bothered."

"Like the greenhouse."

He locked eyes with him. "Yes. Exactly."

Ienzo considered. He sipped his broth, which was slightly too warm in the summer heat but soothing in another way. "I wonder if I want the same," he said softly.

"It's part of growing up. Living on your own. Though you got a sweet deal. Can't say I blame you for sticking around."

"It's hardly sweet."

"Well, Ansem provides for your every whim. That's kind of sweet."

He had a point. "Maybe someday we'll be neighbors, and not merely roommates," he said.

Demyx smiled a little. "Could you imagine?"

Ienzo thought. "Actually, I can." He can imagine Demyx's future so clearly. Personable, talented. He'd do well for himself, Ienzo was sure. But his own future? Without research, who was he? "Query."

He raised an eyebrow. "Shoot."

"Where do you see yourself going?"

"What, in general?"

"Yes. What do you want?"

Demyx wrinkled his nose. "I don't think I'd mind hacking it at performing. And--" He leaned back a little, wincing as his body hit the chair. "I don't know. I'm kind of glad to see what life has for me, you know what I mean? Doing good things where I can. And…" A wry laugh. "I don't know. I wouldn't mind looking for a boyfriend or girlfriend, if the right person came along. Someone to spend time with."

Ienzo felt the blood warm his face. He'd never considered… relationships, emotionally or physically. He wasn't sure he was capable. "I didn't realize you were a romantic."

"I think anyone can be," he said vaguely. "Yeah. It would be nice to mean something to someone… and get to love them in turn."

“Do you think we’re capable of love?”

Demyx flinched, his gaze becoming guarded. “Kind of rude of you to say that.”

Ienzo put a hand to his brow; it had been an honest question, not one meant to gut. “Forgive me--that was not what I meant. I meant it quite literally.”

Demyx considered. So strange, to see him actually think, and not just spit out the first thing his facade told him to. “I think so,” he said slowly. “I mean… people, right? One of the universal needs is to love and be loved--in any form. People need people. It’s pretty natural.”

“I’ve lived my life so isolated, hardly ever desiring company,” he admitted, shaking his head. “Perhaps that might be worth changing… seeing everything that we’ve seen.”

The guard relaxed just the slightest in his eyes. “Are you lonely?”

Ienzo blinked. There was hardly anything left of his soup, so no way to easily deflect. Had that been the deep emotion he’d felt earlier? “Quite possibly--though I’ve never consciously identified that feeling.” He didn’t know where to begin with people. How to engage, to talk to them, in a purely positive manner.

Demyx sighed. Then, “Well, why don’t we be friends, then?”

He raised an eyebrow. “So simply?”

He shrugged. “I mean it’s been fine the last few times we’ve talked, right? When you’re not… falling apart on me, I mean.”

Ienzo flushed. “I am a mess.”

“Well I am too.” He bit his lip. “So what do you say?”

Ienzo smiled; it felt odd. “Alright. Friends.”

Later that night he considered what Demyx had been talking about. Ienzo couldn’t help but be impressed with his ability to see beyond the current circumstances. Ienzo had once been a master tactician, but he’d always planned for the Organization’s longevity, not his own. Merely surviving had been good enough for Zexion. But his own life? Perhaps to plan for its longevity, treat it like a mission to be endured, a game to be won? But without concrete goals… he was floundering.

His new cause to care about needed to be his humanity. He did need friends, social outlets. He turned that conversation over and over in his mind. Was Ienzo capable of love? There were things he loved, certainly, books he’d read, food he’d eaten, the feel of sunlight. There were things he was passionate about--learning and research. But people ? Loving meant being vulnerable… and he was hardly even able to do that around himself , let alone someone else.

Not entirely true.

It was one thing to out and out cry around Even--the man had seen him far worse, especially as a child. But he’d broken down as well in front of Demyx, who he barely knew on a personal level despite their years of working together. To allow emotions into the forefront of his being… was daunting. Where to begin?

Maybe the library would have answers?

One of Ienzo’s specialties as a young apprentice had been psychology. Not necessarily a hard science, not like what the others subscribed to, but one could get an awful lot of insight to the heart through the mind. How could a heart’s desires be realized without thought? How else could a heart make a body feel ? He’d used this working of the inner mind to manipulate people, break them. He’d never used it to heal .

He pulled books on abnormal psychology, therapies. Very quickly he discovered that the ideal way to heal oneself using therapy would be to, well, go to a therapist. Doubtful there was one around here, and even if there were, how could Ienzo just go , given what he’d done to this town? He’d have to take matters into his own hands. Be his own sounding board. He wasn’t sure it was possible.

“Oh, Ienzo, I would’ve hoped you’d be out enjoying this lovely day.”

He started a little, almost dropping his volumes. “Master.”

Ansem cocked his head slightly. He’d shed the red stole and jacket--likely it was very warm in the computer room. Seeing him, too, without the frame of his coat was jarring. “Enough of this “Master” nonsense,” he said, with a wave of his hand. “I’m a king no longer, and I am your father. I insist you call me by my name.”

Ienzo blinked. “Are you quite sure?”

He gave him a look. “Why should you submit to me when we’re working together as equals? Besides… that choice was questionable enough when you were younger--though I’m sure hearing everyone else say it didn’t help.”

“Monkey see monkey do,” Ienzo muttered. “Alright. Ansem. ” The name felt weird in his mouth, halved.

Ansem chuckled. “Indeed. What is it you were reading about?”

Ienzo considered lying. But doubtless Even had told him everything, at least the physical side of it, used it as an excuse to yell at the man. “Abnormal psychology,” he admitted.

“Is that… relevant to current events?” Ansem asked, not without caution.

“Quite,” Ienzo said. He cleared his throat. “I am… very anxious, and struggling to learn to feel. Well, no. I do feel. It’s merely--”

“Unfamiliar and therefore difficult to internalize.”

“Yes.”

“I was told to… make my new devotion my humanity.” He sneered.

Ansem looked confused. “As though that’s a bad or shameful thing?”’

“Isn’t it? I can barely work anymore without completely falling apart.”

“Your body has changed radically--and the presence of a heart is doubtless a new variable to the experiment called “Ienzo.””

This made him laugh. “It does indeed feel like an experiment.”

“You’re being too harsh on yourself,” Ansem said. “You worked so hard to provide Roxas and Naminé with new bodies. You need time . Thankfully, we do not have the threat of Xehanort’s apocalypse looming over us. Radiant Garden is whole and you are well.”

“But Sora could be slipping away day by day--”

“He could be, but likely isn’t. You forget I in my own way spent time with that child.” He sighed. He’d told Ienzo the story about DiZ shortly after they’d been reunited. “He is nothing if not tenacious. Just as we are reaching for him--he is reaching for us.”

“I certainly hope so.”

Ansem squeezed his shoulder. “Have you a few moments? Perhaps we could get some ice cream?”

“Didn’t you come here for a reason?”

Ansem shrugged. “These things can wait,” he said. “Come along, then.”

#retribution #ienzo #demyx #ansem the wise #dilan #fanfiction

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weaselle · 5 years

Text

COMPLETE SHORT STORY

WRITING-PROMPT-S.TUMBLR.COM/POST/175961780920: PROMPT: YOU ARE A CREATURE WITH A FAERY MOM AND A VAMPIRE DAD. FROM YOUR MOM’S SIDE YOU’RE ALLERGIC TO IRON. FROM YOUR DAD’S SIDE YOU NEED BLOOD.

(special thanks again to desertskald for this drawing, which touched my heart)

A few days after your birth, your condition is diagnosed by an old gnome that makes house calls, who tells your parents that their daughter may not survive the week. Your vampire dad stays up all day in a sunless room researching. By evening he has a list of animals with blood that carries oxygen utilizing hemocyanin, similar to hemoglobin, but copper based. These creatures are all sea creatures, so your family moves to the shore.

The blood of various mollusks, crustaceans, and cephalopods is enough to keep you alive, but not healthy. Your father, obsessed with finding a way to de-ironize human blood, becomes a vampiric mad inventor, sort of a Dr. Frankenstein meets the Dad from Honey I Shrunk the Kids. He’s constantly coming to you with his latest experimental invention - homemade alchemical tablets that are supposed to dissolve in blood and turn iron molecules into gold (but half the time they change it to silver, which is equally problematic) fang tip filters that fit over your teeth and screen the blood (which actually works, they’re just so delicate they constantly break, often in the biting process, rendering them useless) heavily altered summoning rituals (if I can summon the whole demon, why can’t I summon just its blood?) various magic potion additives for mixing into blood (okay but you have to follow the recipe EXACTLY or you’ll leak all your minerals out of your eyes, and your bones will melt. You know what? never mind, give me that back) centrifugal devices featuring magnets (that one had a lot of promise, but none of the models ever quite did the whole job, and they weigh a ton)….

While your father is determined to discover a process that will allow you to feed on humans, your mother focuses on fairy magic hacks - she teaches you how to set circle traps, and syphon health from people, but, like all fairy magic, there is a trade off. The more health you syphon, the worse your health the next day when it wears off; it’s like a hangover. And, like with a lot of the darker magics, it becomes a little less effective each time you do it, requiring more and more health be syphoned to achieve the same gain. So she teaches you more things, how to use glamor to seem convincingly healthy, how to float instead of walk, how to ensnare the minds of mortals to use them as temporary servants if you need things. How to temporarily access various kinds of life force from forests, from the wind, from the creatures of the local biome, etc,. Standing next to you on the beach at night, she shows you how to pull power directly from the magic of the full moon, and use it to experience a brief respite from your sickliness… which grows slowly worse.

It’s all so tiring. You spend more and more time on the beach, sitting in tide-pools, staring out to sea, motionless. Time flows by without touching your immortal parents, and hardly anything changes. Your mother wanders off to follow her self interest, as fairies are wont to do, but she visits often. Your father is obsessed as only a vampire can be, and barely remembers to get enough to drink; many nights you have to ask him “Dad, when is the last time you exsanguinated anyone?”

Years pass.

One night as you are sitting on a rock amid the rising tide, idly draining crabs of their blood while lost in thought, you finally notice that every time you reach down into surf, another crab is put into your reaching hand. Looking down into the water, you see the laughing face of a playful young woman, and that’s how you meet Neera.

Neera, you learn, is half werewolf. Every full moon she must turn into a wolf, and so she can’t live in Finfolkheem, the crystal-halled deep sea home of her mother’s people, which is a three week journey from the nearest beach. And she can’t live with her father on land, of course. She doesn’t even know where he is, or if he’s alive. On her mother’s side, she’s finfolk, and part ceasg, part selkie, which somehow has something to do with her mother’s family and their ancient tradition of vacationing along the shores of Shetland. “I’m a total mutt,” she says, laughing, and you can’t help but smile. Her eyes are like black opal. She’s beautiful. Neera spends a lot of time alone. “Feral,” she grins, but, while loneliness has made you quite and shy, it seems to have had the opposite effect on Neera. She’s an amazing shape shifter. She can have a lower half that is plush-furred and flippered like a seal, or jewel-scaled and finned like a fish, and she can magically remove her fur or scales like a thick skirt, to reveal human legs. And while she is helpless to be anything but a wolf for three days out of the month, she can choose to be a wolf anytime she wants. “And I can be like, part wolf part human, like this” she shows you. “AND I can almost change into a whole seal, like great-gran, she’s a selkie, even though her daughter and grand daughter, that’s my mother, can’t do it” she tells you excitedly, “probably because of my were-blood; great-gran thinks selkies and werewolves may have been related way back when, that would kind of explain why I can take my scale-tail off the same way selkies change, so I think I’ll be able to go full seal. I haven’t quite got the trick of it yet, but soon I think. Mother hates me trying; when I first started I would turn into a wolf instead, and I almost drowned a couple times.” “My mother’s people don’t really like me” she confides one day, “most folk are frightened of me, because of my father; I even scare my siren cousins a little” she says, looking at you out of the corner of her eye in a rare moment of vulnerability. “Don’t worry, my dad’s a vampire,” you say, baring your fangs at her, “no werewolf is going to make me nervous” But she does make you nervous. But not, like, scared nervous. You still can’t believe she wants to keep hanging out with you. The two of you are soon spending almost all your time together, down on the beach. When your mother visits, she is glad her daughter has found “some fey creature” to be friends with, and you father is happy that you’re happy. “That’s great! My little fruitbat has a friend.” He looks up sharply “does she have red blood, or does she bleed blue?” “NO, Dad, I’m not going to eat Neera” you tell him, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees “seal and wolf, that’s a lot of mammal anyway, probably hemoglobin all the way…” he trails off as he resumes tinkering with a ferrous gel he’s trying to entice a half-tame poltergeist into possessing. Neera tells you about her ceasg family members “They’re basically Scottish mermaids closely related to the finfolk, they can live in lakes, rivers, seas and oceans; My grandmother was a full blooded freshwater ceasg, my mother is half ceasg, half finfolk and selkie. Have I told you about the time I met some oceanic ceasgs? The saltwater ceasgs can grow monstrous big, like if a whale was a mermaid!” Her stories are captivating, like everything about Neera. You grow more and more sickly, but you hardly care, spending your time on the beach watching Neera frolic in the waves and listening to the stories of her adventures. She discovers that your vampire heritage means that breathing is optional for you, and she guides you carefully to some nearby underwater caves. It’s the most beautiful adventurous thing you’ve ever experienced, until later that night, when you return to the beach and lay on your back in the surf, looking at the stars with Neera, and she reaches over and takes your hand in hers. ... “What would happen if you drank my blood for real?” She asks one evening as the two of you watch the waves. “Well, I’d have a terrible reaction to the iron in your blood, and I’d probably die.” “I thought faeries and vampires were immortal though.” “SOME faeries are immortal, others just live for thousands of years.” “Yeah, but, wouldn’t your vampire blood tip the scales there, make you true immortal?” “Probably,” you shrug “Actually yeah, Dad is pretty sure it would.“ “That’s cool,” she ruffles then smoothes the fur just below her hip; she’s been working on her selkie form. “Mermaids and werewolves and everything I am don’t really… I’ll probably only live about 200 years. I wish I had that vampire thing going on” Your compromised immortality is an uncomfortable subject for you, but the thought of Neera dying fills you with horror “It wouldn’t save me from death by iron though; faeries and vampires can be killed, they just don’t often die of old age. I might though. I keep getting worse” “Oh,” she leans against you for a moment, and kisses your shoulder. “But what if you weren’t allergic to iron?” She’s asking a moment later - nothing keeps Neera down for long - “What would happen if you drank my blood then?” “Well,” you say, playfully, “If I didn’t drain you empty, you’d be my thrall; You’d be under my spell, and you’d do anything I told you. For a while. It would wear off eventually.” Neera wiggles deeper into the sand “Your servant? Could be fun. But I thought I’d become a vampire too.” “No, for that after I drank almost all of your blood, you’d have to drink mine. If you could stomach it.” “Oh, come on,” she says, smiling with a mouthfull of teeth like piranha “you know I’d eat you right up” making you blush and change the subject. By the time you realize how deeply in love you are, it is obvious that you are dying. Vampires can’t live long on the blood of crustaceans; you’ve been dying this whole time, and the only reason you are still alive is because your fairy blood has made dying take so long. At least your own research in your fathers lab has turned up some information worth sharing with Neera. “Hey, I figured out what would probably happen if we did the blood exchange ritual” you tell her one morning, squinting in the glare. Neera looks up from her sunbathing, and flips seawater at you with her tail “Yeah?” “Yep. It doesn’t happen with finfolk or werewolves often, and, of course, I couldn’t find any literature on someone with your exact pedigree. But from all I could tell, you’d get the immortality at the price of blood dependence - the two are strongly linked. Your supernatural origins would probably cancel out most of the rest of it, so you wouldn’t even have to give up all this,” you say, waving your hand vaguely at the bright unpleasant sunlight. The sun didn’t do to you what it would to your father, but you don’t enjoy it the way Neera does. “You’d have to drink someone’s blood pretty often though, it’s a high price.” Neera laughs, a loud and shockingly happy sound that bounces around the cove “I’m finfolk and werewolf” she reminds you, still laughing “I lure men into the sea and drown them for fun, I snatch men off the side of the road and eat them for dinner at least once a month - I don’t think I’d be too broken up about a little change in diet like that.” For some reason it makes you love her all the more. One night the two of you are walking along the beach together, hand in hand, and you see a glint of a metal ring half buried in the sand. You both reach for it, then jump back exclaiming “Silver, YUCK!” in unison. You collapse on the sand together, laughing. “Oh what a shame,” Neera pouts, “I was looking forward to some new jewelry” You feel your breath catch, your sickly heart leaps and stutters. You reach into your pocket, for the ring you’ve been carrying around in cowardice for so long. You’ve only been waiting for the right moment, you’ve told yourself… but if this isn’t the right moment no moment ever will be. “Well,” you try to drawl casually, but your voice breaks “I’ve got this one made of gold. Has a diamond on it.” Neera looks at you with wide, wide eyes as you turn awkwardly in the sand and raise up on one knee. “Neera, you know I’m dying, and I have no right to ask you..” You can’t talk for a moment, and you see tears brimming in Neera’s eyes. That’s no good, if she starts crying you definitely will. You clear your throat “Neera, I… without you, my life wouldn’t…” all your carefully planned speeches are forgotten and useless “Neera, I love you with all my heart. Will you marry me?” She leaps onto you and kisses you deeper than you’ve ever been kissed. Somehow her tongue nicks a fang, hers, yours, impossible to tell - a single drop of her blood slides down your throat; you feel the small pang from the few molecules of iron in it, but you don’t care, you would suffer much worse for her to keep kissing you like this. The kiss comes to an end, but before you can remind her that she hasn’t actually answered yet, she says softly, lips still brushing yours “if” she kisses you again and then gets up, stepping back as you lay there on the beach, a strange look in her black eyes. “I love you so much,” she whispers “and yes,” her voice gets stronger “yes I’ll marry you IF” she takes another step back, swinging her scaled skirt/tail over one shoulder, “if you CATCH ME!” and with that she starts sprinting toward the water. Up to mid thigh in the ocean, she stops to put the skirt back on, where it transforms into her fish tail once more. “It won’t be easy!” she yells back at you as you climb to your feet “Show me how much you want to marry me!” and she disappears into the sea. Are you heart broken? The most excited you’ve ever been? Confused, that’s for sure. “Yes if??” What the hell is that?! And you’re still just standing on the beach! Concentrating, you summon your faery magic, casting a functional glamor that lets you move easily despite your sickly condition. Entering the water, you stop breathing - your vampire nature serves you well in this. You cast a spell similar to the one that lets you levitate, and you begin sliding through the water at a rapid pace. The blood, that single drop of her blood you swallowed, it gives you a faint sense of what direction she went. You follow quickly. After a few hours your glamour wears off. You are out deep in the ocean, and no closer to catching Neera. You are… angry. What the fuck. Who does that, just runs off and tells you to chase them? Is it a werewolf thing? Because the ocean makes that extra fucked up. You reach deep inside and connect to the old magic. Broadcasting it, you draw life-force from the local sea life. Of course you’ll pay for it later, and weak as you have become that will be especially hard on you, but you don’t care. Is she playing with your heart? No, your love is mutual, you trust her, something else is going on. You have to catch her. Burning up your borrowed energy, you surge through the water. After 24 hours, you are desperate. You’ve never used the fairy magic this heavily before. You’re in deep crushing blackness, but you utilize your vampire powers to counter it, seeing in the darkest dark, transmuting your flesh to mist to avoid being compressed like an empty can. Where IS she? After three days, you are more frightened than you’ve ever been. You’re not sure you’ll survive this. Your tenuous blood link to her indicates she still lives, but at this point you are scared for her too. You thought the blood link would wear off, but it seems to you that the intensity of your hunting is keeping it engaged. Engaged. Is that what you are now? Is this a selkie engagement ritual? You won’t get much further without at least a little blood of some sort. You latch onto a 6 foot humboldt squid like some kind of freakish remora. It fights you at first, tearing at you with all its arms but you drain it with such rapid savagery that it dies before it can do you much harm… A full week now, you’ve been zipping through the ocean. Periodically you cry. Sometimes you laugh. You’ve leaned on the old fey sorcery so hard that death seems the certain trade off at this point, and you are determined to look into Neera’s eyes one last time before it claims you. Fuck it. You were dying anyway. This has been the biggest adventure of your life, of most people’s lives. You’ve seen secrets no human has ever known, met demonic giants of the deep, passed by mysterious crystal cities on the lowest ocean floors, witnessed creatures thought extinct by even the long-lived and nature-sensitive fey. Only your love for Neera and your desire to see her one last time keeps you going, pulling a little life from every living creature within ten square miles of you with the darkest magics you know. The trail, blood link growing ever fainter, seems to indicate that Neera is heading for shallower waters. Suddenly it occurs to you: the full moon - she has to return to land, the ocean is no place for a wolf. It’s the third and final night of the full moon’s effects on her… how is she still in the water? Summoning your vampiric flavored fairy powers, you launch upward through the ocean and burst skyward, letting your emotion fuel a pull on the forces around you strong enough to put you up among the birds. You assess the blood link as you waver there, your outer body numb as it has been for days, the very blood in your veins vibrating painfully, your soul drained as a broken bottle. There, the beach of a small island, hardly more than a sandbar. You don’t think it’s on any map, but it has to be the place, the moon is out, Neera will be swimming as a wolf, as she has been for three days and nights, she has to be exhausted, she must be headed for that tiny strip of land. The magic falters, but you are so close, you grit your teeth and pull, and every seagull near falls dead from the sky as you use their stolen life to hurtle toward the beach. It isn’t going to be enough though. You aren’t going to make it. So close, but you start to fall. It’s too bad, because you can see a dark canine shape dragging itself painfully from the ocean. NEERA As you tumble through the air, you remember your mother, standing next to you on the beach at night, arms raised… …pulling power from the full moon. Crying, desperate, you try. The moon is sinking below the horizon as you make the tenuous connection. It’s just enough. You crash down onto the sand mere inches from a very wet and weary wolf, one hand closing around her hind leg. The magic is gone. Time to pay the price in full. To call it a hangover would be to laugh in the face of certain death, and you haven’t the strength. Your head bumps and shifts, and you open your eyes to see Neera, beautiful Neera, cradling your head in her scaled lap. You feel peaceful. You’ll die. It’s okay. “N…eera..” you manage, “dy… dying.” With great effort she pulls your torso upwards to embrace you. “No,” She whispers, clearly near the end of her own strength “you’re not going to. Remember I told you my gran was a ceasg?” Oh. It’s story time. That’s nice. Good way to go. Her voice is beautiful, even when strained from your shared ordeal. “Here’s something about ceasgs… sometimes they marry. Even mortals, if they are caught. And when you catch them… They can grant you wishes.” You thought you were paying attention before, but now every part of your brain that isn’t dead already is concentrating on her words “My gran, was full ceasg, when she was caught, she could grant three wishes,” Neera says, huskily, tears leaking from her inhumanly black eyes, “My mother was half ceasg,” she continues “and she was able to grant two wishes, but the chase had to be extra difficult, that quid pro quo all magic has… and it doesn’t work if you let yourself be caught” Neera starts to cry harder “Oh my love, I had to be sure, I had to be so certain, I had to try my very hardest. I pushed myself until I didn't know if I would make it” she sobs “I was so scared… but I knew you would catch me. I knew. And after a chase like that… I should be able to manage one single wish.” She leans down, resting her forehead on yours. “Don’t fuck it up,” she whispers, voice breaking “don’t wish to live… wish away your iron allergy” “…but…” It doesn’t make sense. The iron allergy doesn’t matter at this point “… die any… anyway.” “Sshhh. No you won’t. Because then, once you’ve made your wish, my sweet, my dearest… you’re going to drain me of blood” What? No. “… you… you die” Neera laughs through her tears “Me? Oh no my love, not me..” she brushes one thumb across your cheek and bares her fangs in a lewd and loving grin “Don’t you know? I’ve always wondered how the rest of you tastes…” Yes. YES. You close your eyes, and make your wish. Her blood is the sweetest most pure thing you’ve ever drunk. Life, stronger than any life you’ve lived before, floods your whole being. After, her fangs buried in the artery on the inside of your thigh, you feel an ecstasy your vampiric heart never knew it needed. Later, the two of you explore your new vampire selves together; never having drunk real blood, the experience is as new for you as it is to Neera. As the sun rises you dig a hole in the sand and cover yourselves in it, wrapped around each other to sleep. It just feels right. Laying in the cool dark underground, Neera snuggles against you. “SO," she asks mischievously, “what do you think of a deep-ocean marriage ceremony?” You laugh, “Wherever you want, my love; you already know… I’ll follow you anywhere” ________________________________________________________________

more fiction and other WIPS on my website Moulin Noir

#fiction #writing #story

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bytheangell · 5 years

Text

something to be proud of

(Read on AO3)

New York - 2016

‘I’m married,’ Alec reminds himself as he walks hand-in-hand with Magnus down the city street toward the sounds of a crowd not too far away. ‘I’m literally married. To a man. Why am I so nervous about this?’

He’s never been one for crowds or large public declarations. And this certainly is a crowd making a large, public declaration. Perhaps that’s why being present at Pride for the first time is such an intimidating idea for him. When Izzy first suggested they all go he’d been entirely against the idea. It’s just some ridiculous mundane event anyway - after spending his entire life feeling shame over his sexuality he isn’t sure he can just flip the switch from guilt to pride, no matter how confident he is in his own relationship with Magnus. He still feels a little self-conscious within the walls of the Institute from time to time, or in Alicante for meetings with the Clave… he hates that he is, but a few decades of concealing his true self and conditioned oppression don’t undo themselves overnight, not even with the love he now has working against them.

It isn’t that he’s embarrassed, because he isn’t. He’s just not sure he’s ready for rainbow flags and parades. At least, that’s what Alec thinks as his small group of friends (Izzy, Simon, Magnus, and Underhill) finally reach their destination.

He couldn’t have been more wrong. The moment they enter the area blocked off for the day’s events Alec can’t keep his eyes in one place. There’s so much to do, so much to look at. His gaze is drawn to booths selling clothing and jewelry, another with flyers for awareness of groups or events or causes, others set up with food and drinks, and even stages for performances. That’s on top of the entire miles of street which are sectioned off for a parade later in the day.

It isn’t until his eyes drift from the things around them to the people that it hits him. Everyone is smiling. Everyone is laughing. Even in the middle of the sweltering mid-day summer sun there isn’t a single person who looks like there’s anywhere else they’d rather be than decked out in colorful face paint or wearing flags around them as a badge of honor.

Magnus gives Alec’s hand a squeeze. There was no denying Alec’s previous apprehension over going to the event and Alec’s thankful that Magnus made it very clear he wouldn’t judge him in the slightest if he’d rather not go for any reason or leave early once they got there, no questions asked.

“You alright?” Magnus asks, catching Alec’s wide-eyed gaze.

“More than alright,” Alec confirms. He’s never been in a space so open to who he is, one that’s not only tolerant of his identity but entirely welcoming to the differences of the people surrounding him. It strikes him that, aside from his own wedding when he stood among the support of family and friends, this might be the first time he’s felt a sense of total acceptance of everything he’s ever thought or felt or wished for himself.

Alec lets go of Magnus’ hand to allow that arm to reach around his husband’s waist, easing into the movement with a smile on his face. “I’ve seen it on the news before, you know, but actually being here…” Alec trails off, not quite sure how to put what he’s feeling into words.

“It is nice, isn’t it? Even if it’s just for a day, to have a space where you don’t feel like you have to defend your existence… where you can just be yourself without having anything to prove.” Magnus fills in.

And that’s it, Alec realizes. He feels relaxed here. He isn’t putting on a show. He isn’t trying to be the perfect balance of Shadowhunter and Husband. He isn’t on guard to make sure he doesn’t slip up because every little mistake he makes will be used in sly comments against him by those who would rather see him fail for everything he currently represents in the Shadow World.

“Yeah, it is,” Alec agrees, feeling without a single doubt or reservation a sense of belonging he didn’t realize he was missing and embracing it the rest of the day.

---

Idris, 2021

It’s a long time coming, Alec thinks, but it’s an event that so many in his own generation of Shadowhunters never would’ve imagined seeing. The first Alicante Pride, organized by none other than Inquisitor Lightwood-Bane and High Warlock of Alicante Lightwood-Bane - which is far from a surprise once word starts to spread. .

At first he’s a little worried. After all, despite the fact that he’s done everything within his power to make the Nephilim’s world as open and tolerant as possible there’s only so much one person can do. He can change all of the official stances he wants, he can create and plan new events such as this festival, but he can’t change public opinion and he certainly can’t singlehandedly undo centuries of inherited biases. He’s seen more LGBTQ+ Nephilim making themselves known the past few years than he had his entire life prior to his own marriage to Magnus, and the same goes for relationships between Nephilim and Downworlders. The stigma is fading, yes, but far from eradicated. He hears the whispers that follow him even to this day, even with as far as he’s come and the work he put into getting here.

“What if nobody comes?” Alec asks the night before the festival, wringing his hands together anxiously. He petitioned for the opportunity to hold an event like this for years, and if it flops it’d be giving everyone who told him no total justification for their bigoted decisions time and time again.

Magnus crosses the living room with a glass in his hand, grabbing one of Alec’s from it’s nervous fidgeting to place the drink in it instead.

“Relax, darling. It’s going to be a wonderful event whether two people show up, or twenty, or two-hundred.” Magnus has every reason to be confident that the event itself is going to be fun: Alec did his research, hours upon hours of it, before even proposing the idea. He’s looked into (and talked with) the organizers of some of the best Pride festivals around the world, and pulled elements from all of them that would not only draw in guests but also provide a safe, comfortable environment.

He wants this to be a positive experience. He wants to show acceptance, and tolerance, and hopefully encourage more people who may still be hiding their true selves away that maybe they don’t have to keep hiding forever - that the world really is changing, or at least attempting to. But all of that hope will be wiped out in an instant if there’s any visible or vocal push-back. Security, as it stands, is a very select group of trusted Shadowhunters and Warlocks ready to remove any sign of trouble.

‘Raziel, please’ Alec thinks desperately as he forces himself to stop pacing and relax for a drink with Magnus before bed. ‘Don’t let there be any trouble.’

The next morning Alec is too excited to even think about eating breakfast, instead anxiously waiting for Magnus to finish his waffles and get ready so they can leave. When Magnus finally emerges from the bathroom with pink, purple, and blue streaks in his hair, Alec beams. This is it, they’re really doing this.

As they step through the portal Alec braces himself for the worst. However, he finds himself pleasantly surprised (on the verge of totally shocked) at the sight that ends up greeting them.

It’s packed.

Mostly with younger Shadowhunters and Downworlders- some people his own age but predominantly early twenties and below. There are some familiar faces and many he never saw before, a mixed group that Alec couldn’t be more pleased to see mingling together as one while they wander around some booths set up by volunteers. He even spots a couple of families walking the grounds with their children. Some are clearly part of the community while others look slightly more uncomfortable, a few clearly the parents of eager young adults who very obviously dragged them out here.

But they’re here and they’re trying, and Alec offers each and every one of them a reassuring smile and a few kind words of thanks for stopping out to make them feel more at ease.

“Excuse me,” a soft female voice from behind him speaks. “Mr. Lightwood-Bane?”

Alec and Magnus both stop to turn and then pause with an amused look between them, unsure which of them the woman is addressing. This isn’t the first time this has happened and Alec is certain it could happen a thousand more and he’d never get tired of it.

“Sorry,” the woman says with a quiet laugh. “Inquisitor Lightwood-Bane, I suppose I should specify.”

“Please, just Alec is fine,” Alec tells her. As he looks her over quickly, a woman only a handful of years older than himself if he had to guess, but while he looks at her he sees that her gaze isn’t on him - it’s on a young boy over by a table full of multicolored ribbons and flags.

“I just…” she starts again, her attention back on him. “I wanted to thank you.”

Alec steadies himself for whatever is going to come next. He’s had this sort of conversation before, the first time with Underhill and then dozens, maybe hundreds since then. He’s a little more used to them now but he still never knows exactly what to say (he still doesn't feel like he deserves any extra praise for simply being himself), so he waits for her to continue.

“My son is… well, he’s gay. Or at least he thinks he might be. And a few years ago I would’ve reacted a lot differently than I did when he told me yesterday because he wanted to come here today.” Alec remembers himself at that age, easily recalling how confusing those first inklings were that he wasn’t quiet like the other boys his age, the feelings that were more confusing than not at the start. What he can’t imagine is being able to talk to anyone about it at that age, what that might feel like to a child trying to understand themselves and how important that moment was for the mother .

The woman continues. “A few years ago I would’ve worried about his future and what kind of life he might have in our world... But I don’t have those fears as much anymore, and it’s in no small part to you. And your husband.” She adds, smiling over at Magnus.

Alec also chances a glance over at Magnus to see the warlock’s expression full of barely restrained pride.

“I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to hear that,” Alec says, meaning every word. “And how glad I am that he has you to support him.” The risks he took - and continues to take - are because they were the right thing to do. He never meant to blaze a trail - he’s just a guy who fell in love and followed his dreams. Sometimes he forgets that every time he speaks out for himself it makes it a little easier for the next voice to follow.

“I’m going to do my best,” she promises, and though she’s still talking to Alec her eyes are once more locked on her son and Alec knows it isn’t really him that she’s promising. “Anyway, I’m sure you have a busy day ahead of you. I just wanted to thank you, again, for doing things like this. I hope you know how much of a difference it’s making.”

Alec swallows thickly, only daring to nod at first until he can be certain he’d reply with a steady tone. “Thank you,” he finally manages just as she goes back over to join her family.

“Wow,” Magnus breaths out. “That sure was something.”

It was more than something, though - it was everything. All Alec ever wanted when he started putting these movements into motion, starting small with a talk at an Institute here or a small social event there, was to get to this point - to make the sort of grand gesture he would’ve ran the other way from half a decade ago because he understands the difference it can make. He knows nothing will ever be perfect in his lifetime but he’ll be damned if he isn’t going to make as much progress as he can while he’s here. He always said if he managed to make just one life better it would be worth it, and one look around tells him that the influence he holds now reaches far beyond just one life.

“This is the legacy you’re building, Alexander. And I want you to know how proud I am of it - and of you.” Magnus says at his side, turning to lean in for a quick kiss.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Alec says once they break away again. It’s almost too much for Alec to take in all at once so he allows himself a few minutes to simply stand with Magnus and process.

It isn’t often Alec allows himself to step back and admire his own handiwork. So often what he does is a matter of duty or expectation, nothing worth any special note. But this? This is different. A few years ago he couldn’t imagine a point in time where Nephilim like him might simply live a comfortable, honest existence... let alone one where they could openly thrive in a community of their own. And now, watching countless others experience that sense of belonging he strove to recreate today, embracing that initial moment of hope that maybe there’s a place for them in the life they were born into after all?

This is truly something to be proud of.

#alec lightwood #magnus bane #malec #shadowhunters #shfanficnexus #shadowhunters pride #i had the idea of Alicante having a pride and it wouldn't leave and I'm not sure how I feel about the way this turned out #but I hope y'all like it! <3 #happy pride 🌈#elle writes a few deadbeat lines

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jchb32273 · 5 years

Text

Fictober 2019 - Day 9

Fanfiction - Dragon Age AO3 Link

Two days behind now... oh well! Have fun today with...

There Is A Certain Taste To It.

~~~~~

Leliana bounced into our dorm room, her usual perky self. She saw me at my desk looking through a book and rolled her eyes.

“Studying again?” she tittered. “It’s a nice day out today and the roads are finally clear! We could go to the mall, or maybe…” she trailed off when she noticed the book I was flipping through. “A cookbook?”

“A cake cookbook,” I said with a smile.

“Why are you looking at cake recipes? What’s the upcoming occasion?”

“Who says it’s for anything special?” I blushed. “Maybe I just want to learn how to bake!”

“Riiight…” she giggled. “Your blush says it all. It’s for loverboy, isn’t it?!”

I sighed. “His birthday is tomorrow. Twenty-third of Wintersmarch.”

“Oh, I love birthdays! They are so much fun! Are you planning anything else?”

“His bandmates are taking him to a local pub. I just asked Dorian if I could bring a cake. He said yes, and gave me some money to buy one… but then I thought a homemade cake would be much tastier than a store-bought one.”

“What’s Alistair’s poison?” she asked. At my confused look, she clarified. “What flavor cake is his favorite?”

“He likes chocolate. I thought at first I’d make him a cheesecake, but then I thought that was too obvious.” I flipped through the cookbook, showing Leli all of the recipes I had bookmarked. “But there are so many types!”

She placed her finger down on a page that caught her eye. “Ooh, a chocolate whiskey cake… with a whiskey caramel drizzle! That sounds very drool-worthy!” She then plucked the book out of my hand and said, “Let’s head to the supermarket!”

An hour later we were in our dorm’s small kitchenette, located just off the lobby. I had everything spread out and ready.

“Okay, the first step,” I read. “Preheat the oven to 180C.”

Leliana pushed the buttons on the stove, but nothing happened. “Um, Kylara? I think our oven is broken.”

Wynne, our dorm mother walked by just then. “Ah, yes. Sorry girls. It is broken. The repairman can’t come by to fix it until the very end of the month.”

“Now what?”

“Call Cullen,” she suggested. Maybe their dorm’s oven is working.”

After packing everything back up and hoofing over to Cullen’s dorm building, he greeted us outside.

“Your oven is working, yes?” Leli asked again.

Cullen had an interesting look on his face. “Um, yeah… it works. Not sure if you are going to want to use it though.”

“Why not?” I asked as we headed through their lobby. However, he didn’t have to answer. It was made perfectly clear once we saw the condition it was in. Grime, oil, and all sorts of caked-on food and grease were all over.

Cullen looked embarrassed. “Well, we are a bunch of dudes living together!”

“Really?” I said, eyebrows raised. “That is your excuse to not clean?” I sighed as looked at the filth-ridden stove. “I’m surprised this hasn’t caught on fire yet…”

“Or been condemned,” Leliana shook her head.

“Please tell me you have some cleaning supplies?” I asked Cullen.

He opened the cupboard below the sink and to our surprise, it was filled with brand-new, unopened supplies. I even found a scouring brush and rubber work gloves. “Well, let’s get this done!” I exclaimed.

Two hours later, I had the stove, sink, counters, and even their refrigerator cleaned out. Oh, the mess I had to scour out of it… I never wanted to think about ever again! The work had gone fairly smoothly with both Cullen and Leli helping. We had gathered a bit of an audience of boys standing around and watching us clean. When we had finished, there were whistles and applause.

I turned to those standing about and lightly scolded, “Don’t let it get like that again!”

Sadly, no one seemed to care as they all wandered off. I sighed.

“Don’t worry, ‘Lara. I’ll get a few other guys to help me keep it clean from now on. You have my thanks and appreciation, at the very least.” He looked at the sparkling stove and clean countertops. “So, after all of this, what are you making? Looks like cake ingredients?” Then he slapped his forehead. “That’s right! Alistair’s birthday is tomorrow! That is really nice of you to make him a cake. You're going let me help too, I hope!”

The clean oven was now preheating and I was starting to measure out the ingredients. I muttered quietly to myself. “Let’s see… 450 grams of sugar, 450 grams of flour…” Then my phone buzzed. I wiped my hands on my apron and pulled my phone out. It was Alistair.

[15:40] Hey Kylara, love. What are you up to?

Not much. Just planning a little surprise for tomorrow… 😘 [15:40]

[15:41] Really? What is happening tomorrow?

As if you don’t know, Mr Smarty-Pants. [15:42]

[15:42] Does it involve you in some barely-there lingerie?

😲 [15:43]

[15:44] Well, I can dream, can’t I? ❤️❤️❤️

😨 You are so evil! [15:44]

[15:45] That’s me, Mr Charming 😈

[15:45] So you’ll be there, tomorrow? 7 pm?

Wouldn’t dream of missing it! [15:46]

Anyhoo… Let me get back to my task. Don’t want to mess it up for you! [15:47]

[15:47] Awww! You’re so good to me, sweetheart! 😍

Leliana saw Kylara grinning as she texted on her phone. It has to be Alistair. No one else makes her smile like that! I am so glad they are together… it has done wonders to help boost Kylara’s opinion of herself! Then she stared at the bowl. Wonder where she left off with the ingredients? Hmm, 450 grams of both sugar and flour? She eyed the bowl. That doesn’t look like enough. I better add a bit more… to be safe, of course. Then Leliana’s phone rang. She answered it.

Cullen, meanwhile, was in charge of making the whiskey caramel sauce for the cake. The first and second batches were both burnt and he scowled as he stared at the black goo in the pot. I am a science major! I can follow complex formulas down to the smallest detail! So how come I can’t seem to get this stupid caramel recipe to work?! He stated at his own phone. I suppose if my lab partner would stop texting me with his incessant questions and distracting me… He sighed. Well, guess I start over… again!

I closed the app on my phone and saw Leli was now on her phone. She was supposed to be in charge of the wet ingredients for the cake. In her mixing bowl, I could see the eggs and the buttermilk were there, but not mixed yet. So I quickly started the electric mixer and blended what she had so far. Then I set it down and went back to my bowl, which so far had only the flour and sugar. I added in the cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder, and the salt and used a fork to stir it all up.

With that done, I saw Leli was still on her phone. I shrugged and headed back to her bowl and added in the oil, vanilla, warm water, and the imitation whiskey flavoring that I had found at the market. As I blended those, I heard my phone chirp again.

Well, we are mostly done now… just need to mix the wet with the dry and then cook the cake. Looks like Cullen is almost done with the caramel… I’ll go ahead and see what he wants now.

[16:09] What are you wearing tomorrow night, sweetie?

Leli ended the call with her girlfriend and then glanced at the counter. Looks like Kylara mixed up my eggs and buttermilk. So where did I leave off? Oh, right. She added the next ingredients and then glanced at the last one. Imitation whiskey? Eww! We don’t want to ruin a cake with that crap. She knelt down and plucked out several sample size bottles of Elijah Craig Barrel Proof Bourbon Whiskey. Hmm, 136 Proof, which means 68% Alcohol. Aw, yes! That will definitely give the cake some kick! And look! Notes of oak, walnuts, caramel, and vanilla! Sounds perfect! After adding a good 120ml of the whiskey to her wet ingredients (more than twice what the recipe called for… because more booze = more fun, yes?), she thought, better give some of this good stuff to Cullen for his caramel sauce too.

Finally, I put my phone away again and approached the counter.

“All set to mix, Leli?”

“Yes! This cake will be so awesome! Your Alibear is going to love it!”

I prepped the greased and floured cake pans, then poured Leli’s wet ingredients over my dry. It was then I noticed the pungent smell of whiskey.

“Uh… Leli? Why do the wet ingredients reek of alcohol?”

“That imitation crud you bought from the supermarket won’t make a decent cake for your boyfriend! So I added the real stuff!” She grinned.

My eyes were watering. “Maker! How much, and what proof?!”

She showed me the small empty bottle. “136 proof! We won’t even have to eat this to get drunk! The fumes alone will- ”

“Tut-tut! The alcohol cooks off! It’ll be fine, Kylara!”

“Well… technically that is true… I suppose if this fails, we might have time to make another.”

I mixed the wet and dry together. At first, I thought there was too much liquid, but once I had finished, it looked to be the normal consistency of cake batter. However, pouring it into the two prepped pans I had soon revealed a problem. I had too much extra batter. “I thought this was to make two round cakes. Why do I have leftover batter?”

“Cullen?” Leli got his attention from his phone, where he’d been texting someone madly. “Any cake pans in your cupboards?”

“Hang on a sec…” He stashed his phone. “Cake pans? I think we have a rectangular one.” He opened and searched. “Here it is!” He handed me the pan.

“So now we have a rectangle and two circle cakes… my won’t this look professional,” I grumbled.

“But it isn’t. That’s the point! It is a homemade cake!” Leli said as she greased and floured the third pan. “It’ll be fine.” At the look on my face, she sighed. “If it bugs you that much, Kylara, we can cut circles from the rectangle. That’ll work, yes?”

I brightened. “You’re right, Leli! Why didn’t I think of that!”

“Because you’re too worried about impressing your loverboy?”

I punched her lightly on the arm. “I suppose so,” I replied jokingly.

After baking, we pulled all three cakes from the oven. As they cooled, the three of us sat around, talking about various things.

We ended up getting four rounds total – the two I had originally prepped, and two more cut from the large rectangle. The leftovers we passed out to the guys in the lobby of Cullen’s dorm. Since none of them spit it out, I took that as a good sign that the cake was fine.

Cullen drizzled his whiskey caramel sauce on top… and it looked fantastic!

After packing (and cleaning) everything up, there was nothing left to do until the party.

“Happy birthday, to our friend Alistaaiirr! Happy birthday, to yooooouuu!”

Alistair blew out the twenty-two candles on his cake and cheers erupted from the crowd of friends at the pub.

“Thank you, guys! This is fantastic!” He then pulled me into his embrace. “The cake looks great, love! You didn’t have to go to all this trouble for me… but thank you all the same.” He stole a quick kiss when the others weren’t looking, then out-loud said, “Well? Let’s eat!”

The cake was quickly sliced and then everyone waited while Alistair took the first bite. He chewed, then swallowed, then his eyes began to water. “Whew! That is strong!” he shouted. “There is a certain taste to it…” He paused to think, then exclaimed, “Whiskey! It’s chocolate caramel whiskey cake!”

I took the next bite and almost choked. Leli and Cullen both had poured enough alcohol in the cake and sauce to choke a mule! Even cooked, this is one pungent cake!

“Is it okay, Alistair?” I asked, worried. “Seems certain other people involved might have been a bit heavy-handed with the booze…” I said as I arched an eyebrow at Leliana. She just giggled and shrugged.

He leaned down and murmured in my ear, “It’s the thought that really counts, love. For that, you win some extra special bonus points from me tonight…”

Fenris, after watching the others take a bite or two of the cake and then set it down, finally took his own nibble.

“Hmm… not bad,” he grunted. “Could’ve used more whiskey though.”

Everyone stared at him, then burst out laughing!

#fictober19 #dragon age #alternate universe #modern thedas #college #friends cooking #birthday #alcohol

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ladyseaheart1668 · 5 years

Text

Endless Summer Book 4 : Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 40)

Description: Rourke’s shadow continues to loom over the Catalysts and the Northbridge Supers. But there is joy mixed in with their dread.

Tagging: @mysteli @whatmcsaid @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @endlesshero1122 @feartheendlesssummer @tigerbryn11

Chapter 40 : The Beauty of Winter

Diego

I admit to being nervous that something would go wrong in the process of obtaining our marriage license, but it seems Zahra did it again when she created Varyyn's legal identity, because nothing is questioned. We have our marriage license within an hour, with plenty of time to make it to the ceremony at the appointed time.

It's not a fancy ceremony, but I don't need it to be, and I'm pretty sure Varyyn feels the same. As far as I'm concerned, we've been married for six years, and this is really just a renewal of vows. Even the vows are of the traditional “to have and to hold” variety. Still, it's not nothing to exchange rings with the man I love and have us declared legally wed in front of witnesses. Obviously, there's no need for a reception, either. But I do manage to reserve the garden gazebo long enough for a few slow dances. I chose one song in particular, a Spanish-language love song that I heard a few years ago when it was performed by the choir at the college I was lecturing at for the semester. I bought their CD just for this song. As I sway gently in Varyyn's arms, my head resting on his shoulder, I let the lyrics wash over me.

Yo no naci sino para quereros;

Mi alma os ha cortado a su dedida;

Por hábito del alma misma os quiero.

Escrito está en mi alma vuestro gesto;

Yo lo leo tan solo que aun de vos

Me guardo enesto.

Quanto tengo confiesso yo deveros;

Por vos naci, por vos tengo la vida,

Y por vos é de morir y por vos muero.

“This was a wonderful surprise, my darling,” Varyyn murmurs. I sigh happily, nuzzling his neck.

“I'm glad you think so. I'm glad I was able to pull it off, too. Allie and Jake helped, of course. And Zahra.”

“Do you regret at all that the rest of the Catalysts weren't present?”

“Nah. They were all at our real wedding. Besides, it's only a couple months until Sean and Michelle's wedding, and I wouldn't want to steal their thunder.”

“A fair point. Should we not tell them about this?”

“There's no need to keep it a secret. Zahra knows. We'll just let it come out naturally.” I pull back slightly so I can look him in the eye, letting my arms drape around his neck. I smile as I gaze into his eyes. “...Amor de mi alma...”

“ 'Love of my soul'?”

“That's the name of this song.” I peck his mouth with mine. “And it's what you are to me.”

“...I love you, my Diego. I don't know how I could have been so lucky to have found you...”

“You brought an army to the resort where I was staying and lassoed me right up.” I meant it as a joke, but he winces visibly. I take his face in my hands. A blue halo hovers around my fingers, barely detectable as they displace the light creating the hologram disguise. “Baby, you know I don't hold that against you, right?”

“...I know. You and I have had a long time to get past that. I am still so sorry for it. I won't ever forget the lessons I was taught over those six months. ...And I do not only mean English.”

“Well...that's a good thing. Lessons should be remembered. As long as you don't let guilt drown you.”

“I promise, if ever I am tempted to let guilt drown me, I think of my darling.”

There is nothing that needs to be said to that. I lean back into my husband's embrace, resting my head on his chest. I steal a glance over at Allie and Jake, gazing into each other's eyes as they sway. Her arms are around his neck and his fingers lace together at the small of her back, but they can't press in very close thanks to Allie's ever-expanding baby bump. The sight makes me smile.

I know trouble is coming. I don't think we're safe from Rourke. Not yet. But at least for now, everything is right with the world.

Alodia

So I get to spend my Saturday in Vegas. I get to watch my best friend be legally married to the love of his life, and I get to fall asleep that night beside mine. No one dies in my dreams that night. But I wake in the gray hours of the morning with vague memories of a journey home. It should have been simple and straightforward, just a straight shot driving down a long road, but somewhere along the way, the road twisted and turned dusty. I lie in bed with River swimming languidly in my womb, listening to Jake's soft breathing and the hum of the air conditioning as I carefully collect the scattered images of my dreams, laying them out in my brain like puzzle pieces.

They don't add up to much, and they're more than a little ridiculous now that I am awake. When the smooth stretch of paved highway that I drove down turned to a dusty dirt road, the sudden appearance of train tracks lead to a locomotive that seemed to actively pursue me like a smoke-belching dragon. At some point I escaped, but ended up driving on a track of rollercoaster instead. Somehow I must have exited the car, because the next thing I knew, I was at Hartfeld. My friends were all there, busy with classes and activities. I think Rourke was there, too. He was playing with beakers, rambling about something to do with the island, with the Endless, with Project Janus. But I was striding purposefully through the main halls, laser-focused still on getting home, convinced that all I had to do was keep going straight. I must have gotten home at some point, because the next I knew, I was in bed with Jake. But not here and now, in a Vegas hotel. It couldn't have been, because I wasn't pregnant. Instead, there was a form between us. Small and fair-skinned, like me and like Jake. Blue-eyed, of course, but with chestnut hair; a blend of my blonde and his sandy brown. A perfect blend of the two of us. I roll carefully to face Jake's peacefully sleeping form, scooting closer to drape my arm over him.

I've never actually been religious, not even in this timeline. And it's a little hard now to think of God in the traditional sense with what the Endless put the Vaanti through on her quest to protect us. But sometimes I can't help praying to whoever or whatever power might be listening.

Please... I send a thought out into the universe as I hold the image of the chestnut-haired child in my mind. Please let this be what I'm heading toward...

Jake

We do actually end up spending most of Sunday at Santa Monica Pier, which I don't regret. Exciting as Vegas is, it's nice to have a quieter day to close out the weekend. We play air hockey and pinball at the arcade, visit the aquarium, ride the ferris wheel, eat fries and sandwiches for lunch, and end the afternoon with ice cream and a walk along the docks.

The newlyweds are predictably eating more ice cream off each other's faces than their own cones. They may have been married and living together for the last five years, but I guess there's no escaping the giddy afterglow of a wedding. I'm kinda feeling it myself. When Varyyn and Diego finally manage to finish their cones, there's nothing left between them and passionately kissing and groping. In a blink, Varyyn has Diego's back pressed against a lamppost. I chuckle, bending to press a kiss to the curve of Alodia's neck.

“Those two seem to have forgotten us,” I murmur. “Wanna go get some sand between our toes?”

“Absolutely.”

We toss our cups into the trashcan and make our way down to the beach, taking off our shoes and socks to carry in hand as we walk.

“That was a real nice little wedding,” I remark. “Not sure it tops the first one, though.”

“Well, the first one had everyone there,” Alodia points out. “Though admittedly, you and I didn't get much chance to witness it, being a bit distracted.” She playfully kisses my cheek. I lace the fingers of my free hand through hers, and bend to kiss the top of her head.

“You ever think you might wanna do that someday? Get a license for the two of us and legally get hitched.”

She hesitates for a moment. “...Do you?”

I shrug. “Maybe. I ain't thinking it's a necessity, though there are practical advantages. I wasn't thinking it would be any time soon, either. Think we got enough on our plates as is with the baby due.”

She nods. The relief in the smile she gives me doesn't escape me. “Yeah. As fast as everything has been happening since I got back...I'm not sure I could handle a second wedding right now. Besides...as much as I know it's been more than five years for you...it hasn't been nearly as long for me.”

“No, I guess it hasn't. ...Guess it's like when we went through the portal and wound up six months ahead. We came out still looking like hell after the battle, and we found Diego with a beard and long hair.”

“Yeah. Exactly.” She sighs. “I think I'd like to live as husband and wife the way we were supposed to before we make it official out here.”

“...I seem to recall us making plans to have a little cottage on the island way back when. ...A mansion in Laguna Beach is a bit of a leap.”

“Well, not too much when you really think about it. If everything had stayed the way it was, we probably would have lived at the Celestial until our cottage got built. We'd have our friends around us...all of us together on our own private island...” She trails off, and I get the sense we're venturing into painful territory. I put my arm over her shoulders and pull her close to my side, kissing the top of her head.

“I guess it's a little too early for me to be thinking about how I'm gonna top this come Valentine's Day.”

She lays her head on my shoulder. “Come Valentine's Day, we'll be in Northbridge. All the Catalysts together again.”

“You just saw everyone two weeks ago. Miss them that much already?”

“Is that weird?”

I smile. “Nah. I miss 'em, too. It'll be good to see 'em again. Help with the last-minute prep for the wedding.”

She snorts. “And what kind of prep are you going to be doing? From what I hear, while I'm getting fitted for my bridesmaid dress, you and the men are going to be having wild times at the bachelor party Craig's planning.”

“Mmm, yeah. And knowing him, it will be a properly debauched affair.”

“Knowing the groom, it won't be too debauched, or else Craig will never hear the end of it.”

“You're right. Sean's a decent, modest sort of man.” I smile at her and she smiles back. She sighs, and the sound is content. I put an arm over her shoulders and she nestles into me. “...I'm not, though. I'm a lowlife lecher.”

She snorts. “Yeah, right. After five years, it's a miracle I don't have jealous ex-lovers assaulting me every day for stealing you away.”

“Of course not. They all hate me so much, they're just secretly shaking their heads, thinking you're just my latest poor victim.”

“And none of them have come forward to warn me? That's not very...” She trails off and doesn't say anything long enough that I frown.

“Very what?” I prompt.

She lifts her head, turning to look at my face. “...Jake...I think...I've had a thought about how Rourke...how he disappeared.”

I reflexively glance around, making sure we're not in earshot of anyone who might give us funny looks. I take her shoulders gently and kiss her forehead. “Not here. Tell us all together in the car.”

* * *

The atmosphere is anxious as we buckle ourselves in and I start the car. She told Diego and Varyyn the same thing she told me. That she's had a thought about how Rourke faked his death.

“What's your thought, Alodia?” Varyyn asks.

“Do you remember that...demonstration Rourke gave us when we got to MASADA? When Sean and Zahra and Craig and I were disguised as Arachnid? You know, the thing he did with the beakers and the liquified crystal?”

“...Yeah...” Diego confirms. “...Kinda.”

“I have an image in my mind of him plucking a full beaker out of thin air. He talked about the Endless being able to do that herself. And...I know he was right. What if he found away to do that himself?”

“But...how? How would he do that?”

“The same way he did it with the beakers. ...And possibly the same way the Endless did it. With the crystals.”

Varyyn shakes his head. “No...no, the time crystals were not strong enough. Only the Island's Heart had enough power.”

“He has the Prism Crystal now. That's made from my life energy. And I'm the missing piece of the Island's Heart. Not to mention the Endless. ...I think the Prism Crystal has enough power.”

“To do what exactly?” I ask. “Pluck himself out of the air like a beaker?”

“Well, that's a phrase I never thought I'd hear,” she quips. “But...yeah. Basically. ...I think the Prism Crystal could have enough power to allow Rourke to pluck another version of himself out of time and space. And kill that one. Or...apparently, make that one kill himself.”

“...And Daddy Weirdbucks is fucking twisted enough that I bet he could convince an alternate version of himself to commit suicide if it would put him toward his purpose,” I growl. “One problem with that theory, Princess, is that he doesn't have the Prism Crystal. I'm pretty sure Tahira would have told you if he'd gotten ahold of it.”

“What about Liquid Prism?”

“...I guess...if he managed to get his grimy paws on that stuff, he could find a way to use it...”

“And it's definitely possible he found a way to get some,” Diego murmurs, a tremor in his voice. “I've never stopped believing he had other lackeys running around doing his bidding.”

Alodia nods. “I'll call Tahira first thing when we get home.”

“It's gonna be three hours later for her than for us.”

“I know she won't mind. Not for something this important.”

* * *

I think Tahira was in bed when we called, but Alodia's right. She doesn't mind being bothered. We sit in the kitchen with her on speaker and tell her about our theory.

“I don't know anything about how Rourke could have gotten his hands on Liquid Prism. But it is possible it wasn't all off the streets before he disappeared.” She's quiet for a moment. “It's kind of a coincidence that you called tonight. The thing is...there have been some developments here. Caleb warned us of two pretty formidable criminals who have their eyes on the Prism Crystal. The Crystal is safe at the moment. But...just a few hours ago, Grayson told me that an entire crate of Liquid Prism has gone missing from the lab.”

Zahra

“Well, fuck me sideways...” I sit back in the chair in Santiago Lupo's office, reviewing his security tapes. “There's...nothing. Nothing at all. It's like they're ghosts. And the security systems weren't tripped at all?”

“That's why Mr. Prescott insisted we make contact with you,” Santiago says. “He thinks the systems might have been hacked, and apparently, you're a genius with security systems and...figuring out if they have been hacked...”

“Well, he's not wrong. ...I have to wonder if this footage has been doctored at all. I can't see any sign of it right away.”

“Maybe they're using stealth suits,” Grayson suggests. “Dax was working on something like that.”

“Yeah,” I murmur. “I've encountered technology like that before myself.”

Of course, we both know he's referring to the same stealth suit that Eva claims to have 'borrowed indefinitely.' But I'm thinking of someone else. Someone who once put a katana to my back and demanded the Island's Heart. Still, I don't think stealth suits alone would be enough to pull off a heist like this. I'm looking at security footage that shows the liquid prism being locked away in a safe for the night, and then goes to the next morning when the lab tech returns to set everything up, only to discover the stuff missing. The door to the safe never even opens on the footage I'm looking at.

“There's gotta be something we're missing here,” I muse aloud. “Leave this footage with me. I'll go over it with a fine-toothed comb. I'll figure out what we're looking at.”

Caleb

It feels weird to be meeting Tahira in the underground Prescott facility where we were both prisoners, but as she pointed out, it's safe. It's not currently in use, and it's unlikely anyone who isn't in on our secrets is going to find us here.

I light up and take a drag, exhaling smoke as I lean against the smooth metal-enforced wall. Tahira looks at the cigarette between my fingers with faint distaste, but she doesn't say anything.

“...So, it was just the liquid that went missing?” I ask. “The crystal's safe?”

“It's safe. We've got it protected.” She pauses. “You don't suppose there's any chance your...associates are behind this, do you?”

“They came in and got out without leaving a trace. If Gigi or Stonewall has that ability, I don't know about it. Don't think it's their style, either. In their own separate ways, they both like to leave impressions. They want to be noticed.”

“I can see why they thought you'd fit in, then,” she quips. I make a face.

“Low blow, hero. Accurate, but low.” I take another drag. “In any case, I'll keep my eyes and ears open. If that liquid prism hits the streets, it won't be long before news starts filtering through the underground.”

“Honestly, having it on the streets isn't what worries me.”

“No?”

“That stealth tech they may have been using? ...Minuet has Dax's only working stealth suit at the moment. ...But...” She trails off into a loaded silence.

“...But...what?” When she still doesn't answer after awhile, I press further. “You think it might be an inside job? Someone who has access to his research?”

“...I guess that is a possibility...”

“But it's not the one you were thinking of?”

She sighs. “Talos and Minuet would say I shouldn't share this with you...but...Dax isn't the only one who was working on stealth tech. There was a branch of the military that had access to a stealth suit at least five years before Dax's version was perfected.”

“And...you know this how?”

“I have my sources. But that's all you're getting for now.” She frowns, her left hand drifting to cover the wristband secured just above the joint on her right forearm. “...Hang on a sec. Someone's calling.”

“Right. Secret hero stuff. Should I plug my ears?”

“I'll just take it in the next cell,” she replies with a smirk. She steps out of sight, and I hear her murmuring to whoever has contacted her. When she comes back, her expression has turned dark.

“Big trouble, I'm assuming?”

“Not sure. Minuet's found something that concerns her.”

“Something to do with the liquid prism?”

“Worse,” she says grimly. “Seems a young woman approached her outside the hospital and left some strong hints that she had been the victim of something organized and ugly, and that she wasn't the only one. Minuet's worried she's talking about human trafficking.”

“...That's not outside the realm of possibility,” I concede. “Plenty of fucks who'll take advantage of the desperate and vulnerable. Saw enough of that in my time.”

“And did nothing to stop it, I assume.”

“Hey! I never claimed to be a hero, but I've never been a bully, either. I've never gone after anyone who couldn't fight back.”

“But those people still end up getting hurt,” she retorts. “Remember the little girl who almost burned to death when you attacked the DMV?”

I scowl. Her assessment of me smarts in spite of everything. “Okay, fine. I'm scum. Guess I should leave you to go be a hero.”

“I certainly don't have any time to waste. I'll see you around, Caleb.”

“Right.”

She leaves. For awhile, I debate following her. I flip-flop long enough that my window of opportunity undoubtably closes. It's getting late by the time I leave. Late enough that I should start figuring out where to sleep. The January night air is bitterly cold, and I hunker down in my coat, pulling the collar up over my face. Definitely a night for the homeless shelter. Sleeping in my van will likely result either in me freezing to death or setting the damn thing on fire to keep warm.

There aren't many people out on the streets. At least, not in the neighborhoods I'm walking in. Not much nightlife around here. I do recognize one person that I pass on the sidewalk. Kenji Katsaros, son of the DA. What he's doing in this neighborhood, I don't know. It's pretty late for photo ops, and philanthropy isn't really his style, either. That's more Grayson Prescott's thing. Ahh, but what do I care. He's not bothering me, just blabbing on his phone. ...Whatever he's talking about, it's clearly troubling him. He steps aside for me as we pass, but barely looks at me.

“Yeah...I'll make sure Mom knows. ...Right. …Be careful, Tahira.”

The name stops me in my tracks. I turn back to look at him, but he's walking on, his back to me, totally unaware of my presence. My thoughts start to race too fast for me to follow, like there's a bomb going off in my head, or a power surge or a short circuit that leaves only intuition functioning. I can barely understand what I'm thinking. All I know is I should follow him. I'm good enough to do it without him realizing.

I really don't know why I'm doing it. I don't actually know what language the name Tahira comes from—Turkish, maybe?—but I'm sure she's not the only Tahira in the whole city of Northbridge. But I happen to know that Kenji Katsaros is closely associated with the Tahira I know. They work together at The Grand. Also, he's heading towards the DA's office. Which makes sense, if he's going to let his mother know something. But why doesn't he just call her?

Not far from city hall, Kenji abruptly ducks into an alley. A narrow path between the buildings that could be serving for a shortcut...except that he's supposed to be going to the DA's office. I press myself flush against a wall and ease myself into the alley a safe distance behind him, keeping to the shadows. He almost certainly never realizes I'm there, because in the next moment, his skin turns to bronze, and everything falls into place.

Well, shit. ...Kenji Katsaros is Talos.

I make it to the shelter, but I don't remember getting there. I get myself a bed, but I don't really sleep. I guess that explains why he hates me more than either Tahira or Minuet do. I tried to kill his mom. Fuck. That means winning his trust is going to be a lot harder than I realized.

I think it's going to be to my advantage to lie low for awhile. At least until I figure out what I'm going to do with this information.

Eva

The next couple weeks seem to pass very quickly. Tahira, Kenji, and I have our hands full for awhile with the trafficking ring, but let's face facts, its days were numbered once we got wind of it. By February, it's been shut down, and the three of us meet with Dax and Poppy at The Grand to celebrate. Tahira helps me get home afterward, but once I get there and climb into bed, I can't sleep. Of course, that doesn't entirely surprise me. Dad has a doctor's appointment in the morning. I never sleep well before his doctor's appointments.

He's actually been doing really well. Thanks to Tahira helping me expose Mayhew, we were able to afford experimental treatments. He went into remission not long after we got Tahira back from the crystal dimension, and since then, the doctors tell me that everything has continued to be encouraging. But I can't relax. No matter how encouraging his scans, I can't shake the feeling that my father is living on borrowed time. And for all that I can put people in slow motion...I can't actually slow time down.

We arrive at the hospital's outpatient clinic with plenty of time for Dad to playfully flirt with the receptionists. He charms them as usual, and when we're taken back, we leave the waiting room in a cloud of good humor.

“You have the entire staff of this place wrapped around your finger, Dad,” I remark as I help him into a hospital gown. “I guess it helps that you flirt like it's going out of style.”

“Life is short, mija,” he says with a grin. “I will live every moment with gusto.”

My hands pause on the strings of the gown. “...I wish you wouldn't say things like that at a time like this.”

“...I'm sorry, mija. That was insensitive of me. All this is so much harder on you than on me.”

“Is it really, though? You're the one who's gone through all the pain and sickness.”

“That is difficult, it is true. But I think it is easier for me to endure than for you to watch. ...And the thought that I might die almost certainly frightens you more than it frightens me.”

“How much does it frighten you?”

He shrugs. “I don't want to die. You're still young enough that I had hoped to see many more years with you. But I don't worry about it like I would if you were still a little girl and I were leaving you without parents. You're a strong, capable young woman. And if I die in the near future, I will die with confidence that you will be all right.”

I don't say anything to that. I finish tying his gown and put my arms around his shoulders to kiss his cheek.

Not long after, the medical shenanigans get underway, and conversation becomes functional. At the end of it, the doctors are smiling, and it seems my father is still doing well. As he gets dressed, my father smiles at me with a twinkle in his eye.

“When you were a little girl and I took you to the doctor, you always got ice cream afterwards if you were brave. I think we have both been very brave today. What do you say? Do we deserve ice cream?”

“Ice cream in February?”

“I won't tell if you don't.”

So of course, thirty minutes later, we're in the glass-ceilinged atrium of Northbridge Mall, sitting on a bench in front of the fountain and watching the bubble and flow from the jets while we methodically lick the sweet, creamy heads of our ice cream cones.

“Almost like having a summer moment indoors,” my father remarks.

“If you ignore the Valentine's Day decorations and the snow outside,” I reply, gesturing up at the skylights, where a steady swirl of snowflakes is clearly visible. “I wish it were summer. I'm getting sick of winter.”

“I am grateful for winter,” Dad murmurs. “Because at this moment, it is winter. And I am grateful for this moment.”

I look back down at my cone. I dig a chunk of cookie dough out of the small vanilla hill with the nail of my index finger.

“Is that the secret to happiness then? Just be grateful for the moment?”

“I don't think it's a secret, mija. Or a guarantee of happiness. But it is how I have chosen to live since I got sick. The fact is that everyone's time is limited. Mine might be more limited than I once expected. But right now, I am alive. I am alive, and I find that this moment is worth living. ...I look forward to summer. But right now it is winter. And winter is beautiful in its own way. I won't ignore the beauty that exists now because I am waiting for something that is yet to come.”

I sigh, slipping my arm through his and laying my head on his shoulder. I feel him kiss the top of my head lightly. He has an undeniable point. I can't actually slow down time. I won't try to rush it either. It's winter, my father is alive, and I have a sugar cone topped with cookie dough ice cream. Right now, that's all I need.

Michelle

Friday morning, I wake up an hour before my alarm. I should be irritated. I don't even have to be up with my alarm, considering that I have the day off. I only set the damn thing to keep some semblance of a routine in place. But I'm not actually annoyed at all. It's excitement that has me awake so early. Today, my friends arrive from California. They're here so that my maid of honor and Sean's last couple groomsmen can have their final fittings at the tailors. It needs to be done now so that if there are any adjustments that need to be made, we'll have time to make them. I roll towards Sean, still dead to the world and snoring a little, and drape my arm over him.

In only a little over a month, I am finally going to be his wife.

*****************************************************************************************

BTW, the song Diego and Varyyn dance to is a real song. It is called Amor de mi Alma, and it is beautiful.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R0xtyjJ8eYo

Also, here is a translation.

I was born to love only you; My soul has formed you to its measure; I want you as a garment for my soul. Your very image is written on my soul; Such indescribable intimacy I hide even from you. All that I have, I owe to you; For you I was born, for you I live, For you I must die, and for you I give my last breath.

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thegizka · 5 years

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Moving On (fic)

When Dick moves back to Gotham after the Teen Titans disband, he has difficulty adjusting to working under Batman’s direction. Luckily he has friends who are willing to listen and help him figure out a solution (at least temporarily).

(I imagined this happening in a timeline where Dick has become Nightwing (since the New Teen Titans have disbanded) but before Jason Todd has become the new Robin.)

Written for Writer’s Month 2019 Day 4: Road Trip.

Note: I do not own these characters.

Read it on Ao3.

“It’s just so frustrating!” Dick ranted, stomping across the roof of the Gotham City Concert Hall. “I think I had more freedom as an unstable twelve-year-old than I do now. It’s like he needs to keep an eye on me 24/7. It’s stifling!”

“Maybe he’s just trying to keep you safe,” Donna suggested, sticking a couple of fries in her mouth and pretending her friend’s crisis wasn’t her evening’s entertainment.

“But I don’t need a babysitter anymore. I’m not a kid! And I might not have as much experience at this night job, but I’m pretty sure my track record as Robin and with the Titans deserves a higher vote of confidence.”

“I’m sure he knows this.”

“Then why isn’t he letting me work independently anymore?”

“SorryI’mlate!” A red and yellow blur materialized into Wally West. He pulled off the mask portion of his suit and took a seat next to Donna. “I got distracted by a car chase in Detroit. What am I missing?”

“Batman’s smothering Dick and he’s not happy,” Donna explained, passing him his own extra large order of fries.

“Ah, a classic case of clingy parenting. Have you told him you need space?”

“I shouldn’t need to tell him,” Dick grumbled. “I thought all those years working with you guys in the Teen Titans was me telling him I needed space.”

“Maybe, but you moved back home now, which implies you’re going to live on his terms,” Donna mused. “I mean, Gotham is his territory. You know how much of a control freak he is. Of course he’s going to want to tell you exactly what to do.”

“And,” Wally added around a mouthful of fries, “he hasn’t necessarily seen how much you’ve grown and matured while you were away. Parents have this strange tendency to believe their kids are younger and feebler than they actually are. He probably still thinks you’re the wild adolescent he took in a few years ago.”

“But I’m not!”

“Well duh.” Wally rolled his eyes.

“So what am I supposed to do?” Dick growled frustratedly. He kicked at one of the scraps of trash that seemed obligated to be on every Gotham rooftop.

“Move,” Donna said pointedly. “Get out of Gotham. You’ll never get the independence you want here.”

“But this is my home too! I shouldn’t have to leave just because he’s been here longer. Gotham’s a big enough city to host several heroes.”

Wally and Donna exchanged skeptical looks.

“Dude, you haven’t been in Gotham more than three weeks straight for the past four years. Why are you so afraid of moving?”

“I’m not. I just don’t know that it’s the right time. I mean, at the very least this clinginginess has shown me how much Batman still needs a sidekick.”

“He’s hopeless,” Wally muttered, crushing his empty fries carton.

“For Zeus’s sake, Dick! Pick a side,” Donna growled. “Do you want to be the mature adult ready to strike out on his own or the self-sacrificing son sticking around to encourage his father’s dependency issues?”

“I just- I haven’t figured it out yet, okay? You guys might be used to doing things solo, but I prefer being around people who have my back.”

“Is that what this is about?” Donna asked incredulously. “You think we’ve abandoned you because our team disbanded?”

“That’s cold, dude. I mean, what do you call this then? Just a regular old courtesy chat on a dirty rooftop at an unholy hour of the night?”

“No,” Dick sighed. “That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry.”

“We know, dude. Relax. We’re just giving you a hard time.” Wally smiled sympathetically.

“Honestly, there are days when I miss the team or our sidekick eras,” Donna admitted, “but just like our civilian lives, there comes a point where we have to make our own decisions as heroes. We don’t get to stay kids forever.”

Dick turned his back to his friends and gazed out across the Gotham cityscape, a frown on his face. This place was always so dramatic. The shadows were darker than they were in other cities, and lights were either a dim and useless yellow or bright enough to blind. It made him miss the sun and clean air. He’d liked being at Titans Tower. There’d been a lot less lurking, and they’d made most of their plans and decisions together as a team. Could he find that respect and joy in Gotham?

“You know what?” Wally asked suddenly, breaking into his musings. (Dick refused to believe he’d inherited Bruce’s brooding tendency.) “Let’s go on a road trip!”

“And how is that supposed to help me sort things out?”

Wally shrugged.

“Maybe it will, maybe it won’t. But it’ll give you some temporary space from the Bat, and you’ll get to hang out with us for a few weeks.”

“A few weeks?” Donna looked concerned.

“”It’s a road trip. Those things aren’t fast,” he chuckled.

“I have a job, though.”

“As a freelance photographer. Your schedule’s flexible, right? Plus you can take you camera along and get some cool location shots to fill out your portfolio.”

“And what locations do you have in mind?”

“Anywhere!” He spread his arms wide. “The Grand Canyon, the St. Louis Arch, Broadway, whatever! This might be our last big hurrah together before adulthood and jobs and things. So? What do you say?”

The other two exchanged looks. Dick shrugged. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do.

“Alright,” Donna agreed, “on a few conditions.”

“Let’s hear them.”

“No night job stuff. That means no costumes, no cases, and keeping the powers to a minimum. If we’re going to make this an escape from the crazy, we minimize the crazy we bring with us.”

“Fine by me,” Wally agreed.

“My other condition is Roy comes too. It wouldn’t feel right to go without him.”

“Cool. Is that it? I’ll go ask him right now.”

Before either could stop him, Wally zoomed off the roof heading towards Star City.

“How long do you think it’ll take him to convince Roy?” Dick asked. His friend shrugged, gathering up their discarded food wrappers and crushing them into a paper bag.

“Not long. He’s been talking about taking a break for a while. Assuming he thinks he can survive being stuck with us in a car for a few weeks, he’ll be on board.”

They waited in silence for a while, the sounds of sirens and street traffic the backdrop for their thoughts. It had been a while since Dick hadn’t been surrounded by noise. Getting away from it might be nice, or it might be unsettling. He supposed he’d find out.

Wally returned, skidding to a halt and scattering bits of trash around him. He had a big grin on his face and was holding another bag of take-out.

“Roy said yes,” he announced. “Now who wants more fries?”

-----

When Roy opened his front door five days later, he was met with the flash of a camera.

“Donna come on,” he groaned, but there was amusement in his eyes.

“I have a fondness for candids,” she grinned, snapping another for good measure.

“Between your camera and Wally’s choice of music, I might be driven to murder by the end of this.” He threw a large duffle bag into the back of his truck where several other bags full of camping equipment and luggage were piling up.

“What do you have against Shakira?” Wally demanded, adding a tarp to the pile.

“Nothing, unless she’s on repeat for two and a half hours.”

“But you told me I needed to joke less and be more honest. Hips don’t lie, Roy. You can’t get more honest than that.”

Roy just rolled his eyes and turned to Donna.

“Is Dick back yet?”

“Nope, but we did give him a big shopping list. I’m not sure how he’s going to fit everything on his motorcycle.”

“Want me to run and check on him?” Wally offered.

“No need,” Donna announced, spotting their friend turning onto Roy’s street. She could see shopping bags filling his limited storage and balanced carefully on his bike. Glancing at the already full truck, she wondered where they were going to fit it all, though Wally would probably eat half of it before they pulled out of the driveway.

“They didn’t have any good trail mix,” Dick announced, slipping off his helmet, “but there will be plenty of truck stops and Trader Joe’s along the way so I can pick some up later.”

“Thanks man.” Wally grabbed a few of the bags, but instead of strategically packing them in the truck, he began rifling through them on the hunt for something to eat.

“No cheese puffs,” Roy warned. “I don’t want orange fingerprints all over my interior.”

“Bugles it is, then.”

An hour later, the truck was packed, Dick’s motorcycle was tucked safely into the garage, and they’d managed to claim their seats with minimal arguing.

“Who’s ready for some music?” Dick asked while Roy eased out onto the road. Having won the passenger’s seat, he was responsible for navigational support and road tunes. Hitting play on his phone, the bright horn intro for “Hips Don’t Lie” filtered through the speakers. Wally bit back a giggle. Roy just sighed resignedly.

“If the next song is another Shakira, I am pulling over and kicking both of you out.”

“Oh baby when you talk like that, you make a woman go mad,” Dick sang at him in falsetto. By the end of the song, even Roy was singing along.

#writersmonth2019 #gizka #my words #dc #dc comics #teen titans #titans #dick grayson #donna troy #wally west #roy harper

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negrek · 6 years

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How to Plan a Trip in Under Two Hours

And now for something completely different! A friend of mine recently asked me for some tips on travel planning, since she often feels overwhelmed when she tries to get started. I figured I might as well throw this up here as well, in case anyone else would find it interesting or useful.

Okay, travel tips! I'm going to assume for the purposes of this post that you already know where you're going, on a level of "what country," and what time you might want to go there, on a level of "starting and ending month." If you don't have that worked out yet, I can describe how I decide where/when to go if you like. Also, if you have in mind some specific activity you want to do in the place you're going ("I want to hike the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu!") the process will be different (and easier!) than this. So: target country, target month.

Just as a disclaimer, everybody has different needs and preferences when they travel. I tend to be more on the loosey-goosey end, with relatively minimal planning. Obviously this makes things a lot less overwhelming! But if you really like having a set schedule, would feel much more secure knowing where you're going to be at a given time on any given day, know where all your meals are coming from, etc., I highly recommend that you consider a packaged tour or travel agent rather than planning your own trip. It's totally possible to figure things out down to that level of detail on your own, but if you tend to get overwhelmed by options, it will be way easier to have somebody else work things out for you. You can also do some kind of packaged or pre-planned trip and then tack a couple of extra days on at the end to have to yourself and use that time as a kind of practice for planning a longer trip; that way you can feel secure in that the majority of the work is handled for you and you'll know what to expect for most of the trip, but can also get some

That said, I think the most important thing to understand when planning a trip is that it is NEVER going to be perfect. You are NEVER going to get to do all the things you were hoping to get to do. You are NEVER going to be able to get the absolute best deal on everything. You WILL screw up and get suckered by the expensive tourist-y option, you WILL accidentally schedule something such that you end up not having the time to visit $landmark that you were dying to see, you WILL end up having disappointing experiences as well as great ones.

I think the huge proliferation of travel information available has kind of created this illusion that if you're smart and determined enough you can plan the MOST ENJOYABLE vacation that is also the CHEAPEST and "MOST AUTHENTIC" while visiting the optimal locations, eating only at the tastiest restaurants, etc. etc. This is not true! Even ignoring that online reviews are lies and everyone's preferences differ so the "best" experiences may not actually be the best for you personally, there is literally nothing the internet can do to stop you from having a bad oyster at what should have been a perfectly safe restaurant and then spending the next day horking your guts up instead of visiting Extremely Photogenic Waterfall Paradise. You can't, from hundreds to thousands of miles away, figure out what the best things to do are in a place you've never set foot in. On the other hand, the best way to figure out a travel itinerary is to visit somewhere; after a few days there you will absolutely know whether you have any intention of ever returning and, if you do want to return, a whole big list of things you want to do/see next time.

So it's more important to pick SOMETHING and just get there than it is to pick THE BEST THING. You'll have plenty of opportunities to change your mind later if you decide you really don't like what you've landed on, too. What you really need is a set of reasonable defaults and rules of thumb to fall back on when you have an overwhelming number of choices. If you do a lot of traveling, you will learn what works for you and develop these pretty fast. If you're feeling a bit lost, I'm about to give you a whole big list of them, and hopefully that will help to get you travelling so you have the opportunity to learn what your own are and develop a routine that suits you.

Just remember that these are reasonable and defaults and specific to me. They're supposed to keep you from overoptimizing, from wandering around airline discount mailing lists fretting about whether you could save $300 on your ticket if you just looked at one more web site (spoiler no you can't, if you really love deal-hunting or are on a tight budget airline scrounging can really pay off but otherwise don't even worry about it). So if at any point you look at some advice I give and go "whaaaaat no that sounds terrible," that's great! It means you have a clear preference about something that happens to be different than mine, and you should go with what makes the most sense to YOU. These recommendations are intended as guidelines to follow if you're feeling a bit lost, not the be-all and end-all of travel advice.

Let's get started!

Know where you're going and when, but not sure how long you should stay? Congratulations, you're staying for a week. Your budget is $1200. If you're planning to go somewhere that will require you to fly more than six hours, your budget is instead $2000 to account for airfare. There's virtually nowhere on earth where those figures aren't going to cover you, for the vast majority of the globe they're downright extravagant, and if you happen to have chosen one of those places where they won't cover you, you'll KNOW.

Now, where to go in $country? You may have some vague ideas already. For example, if you haven't been to France before and you aren't going for some specific purpose, you're going to Paris. Just accept it. You're going to Paris. If the options aren't obvious to you, or you want a better sense of what's out there, go to Google Flights. It has the neat feature that you don't have to put in a specific destination to find flights. Put in your home airport and the country you'd like to go to and it will bring you to a page that displays the major air destinations in that country along with an approximate price for a round trip to each one. Take a look at the prices. If any of them make you go, "Mein GOTT!!" just at a glance, cross that destination off your list.

Even in a fairly large country, there probably aren't more than four or five cities with regular flights that look comfortable in your budget. That's great! Take your list of four or five, and if you aren't familiar with them, Google them. Look up their Wikipedia pages. Search "top 10 things to do in $city." Spend no more than twenty minutes on this. You're not trying to figure out an itinerary or get a fine-grained look at each place. You're trying to get a general impression: is this place your history-and-culture kind of city? Lazy beach getaway? Outdoor adventure paradise? I recommend looking up general climate/weather conditions for the month you expect to be there in as part of this exercise, because they can vary surprisingly widely within a country, and "miserable rain 24/7" is a great way to eliminate destinations from your list.

Now pick your top two cities based on what you feel like at the moment (e.g. low-key lying in the sun kind of vacation vs ALL THE NIGHTLIFE vs arts and culture, or a mix). You're flying into one and out of the other. (If there's one place that seems super interesting and you think you'd be amply entertained spending the whole week there, great! Two is just your maximum.)

Another of my rules is that I won't schedule fewer than three days in one place. Packing up and moving cities, even if it's just a quick half-hour hop, is a real hassle and eats up a surprising amount of time. Having to go through the whole rigamarole more frequently than once in three days is too exhausting for me to bother with. So, vacationing for a week, and you have to visit each place for at least three days, and there are two places. That means you're in one for four days and the other for three.

Based on the no more than five minutes of Googling you did on it, which of your two cities seems more interesting to you? Okay, you're going to that one for four days, and also first. Go back to Google flights and plug that in as your destination to get an actual flight list. Do the same, in another tab, for your return flight from city #2. Google Flights shows you a nice calendar with estimated prices on each day of the month. Pick a start/end date that seems reasonably on-budget and convenient to you and take a look at the actual flights.

I will not do flights with more than one connection. I will not do flights with less than an hour connecting time. I will not do flights that leave before 8 AM (it's often hard to find ways to get to the airport pre-6 AM), and I will not do flights that land after dark. Everywhere is just more difficult to navigate at night--consider if you have a picture of your hotel, which will inevitably have been taken in the day, and it will inevitably look nothing like that picture at night. So, no nighttime arrivals. Examine the flight list with these in mind. Go up or down a day if you can't find anything reasonable that fits those criteria, or whatever you may have for your own personal criteria. Pick a departure flight and a return flight that satisfy your constraints. Spend no more than another twenty minutes on this.

So you've got your destinations and your flights! The hardest part is now behind you. Next up is accommodation. As you can tell, Google Flights is my "reasonable default" for airline tickets. For lodging, my go-to is usually Hostelworld, although Googling "hostel $city" works perfectly fine. I'm guessing you might want to stay somewhere where you aren't going to have to worry about an unscrupulous roommate stealing your shoes, though, so I'd Google "hotel $city" instead. If you travel frequently enough you'll learn what booking sites you like or don't and come up with your own reasonable default; Google will do you well enough until then. Or, if you're comfortable with/excited by the idea of AirBNB, that makes a fine "reasonable default" hotel alternative.

Your budget should give you roughly $100 to spend a day, and you should expect lodging to represent roughly a third to 40% of that. This means you're going to be looking for something on the order of $30-$40 per night. In a lot of places, that's going to be a damn fine hotel! In a western European country, you're probably going to need to be tacking "budget" onto the front of that Google search. Nevertheless, don't panic if you can't find anywhere that seems like it doesn't contain axe murderers and giant rodents for under, say, $65 per night or so. All that means is you're probably going to have to spend a day availing yourself of your destination's lovely "free" or "under $10" attractions and eating food from the grocery store to make up the difference, which is about as "local" as it gets, so enjoy living like a citizen of $city for a day!

In any case, look at what's available in your price range. The primary deciding factor is going to be location. You need something easily accessible by public transportation. Even if you know for sure you want to rent a car and go out and do car-requiring things, you do not want to rent a car and then venture forth into a traffic system you've never experienced before in an unfamiliar city after being stuck in a cramped airplane seat for probably way too long. Be kind to yourself and pick the first reasonably-priced hotel option that is within 10 minutes' walk of a transit stop. You can figure out what hotels fall into this category by going to Google Maps, entering the name or address of the hotel, hitting "Directions," and then entering "subway stop" (or "bus stop," or whatever the primary mode of public transportation there is in the city--you can Google that if you need to).

Repeat this process for your second destination. That's your accommodation! You are now virtually done planning your trip! In fact, the only thing left is figuring out how to get from city A to city B. If you're going somewhere in Europe, I suggest the classic rail option. Anywhere else, because I'm a cheapskate, it's the bus. (And I'll even bus in Europe because, again, cheapskate.) In some countries you may need to take a flight, but I'd typically start with train or bus. This can get annoying if there are a lot of different bus/rail options, since unlike with planes there are few aggregator sites (and the ones that do exist suck), but it's at least a straightforward process: Google "bus city A city B" or "train city A city B" and have a look at that first page of search results. My rules for busing/training are generally the same as for flying, so take a look at your options and pick the first one that seems tolerable.

And you're done! If you haven't already, you can now make those flight and hotel reservations and perhaps even buy your $transit ticket to get you from one place to another.

You may have noticed, though, that you still have no idea what you're going to actually do in those places you settled on. Not a problem! This is the fun part, and you can enjoy picking stuff out at your leisure between now and whenever you're actually leaving on your trip. There is literally no place on earth that has a major airport and yet is so boring that you can't possibly keep yourself entertained for three days, so I guarantee you don't have to worry about finding things, provided you did your earlier mini-Google and therefore know that you didn't accidentally book yourself into jungle adventure city!!! when what you were really looking for was hang out at artsy cafes city.

Again, as you travel more, you'll figure out some reasonable default activities that will be available pretty much anywhere you'll go and that you can reliably fall back on if you're overwhelmed. Personally, I like to do a walking tour as close as possible to first thing, simply because they're a fantastic way to get oriented in a new place and to get an idea of places you'd like to come back to and explore more later, or additional places to check out beyond the tour's limits. As a bonus, they also tend to be pretty cheap. Knowing myself, I also know that there's probably going to be at least one museum and at least one hike/other outdoorsy kind of thing going on in those three days, so I know to direct my searches towards those specific areas. But if you don't have a strong sense of what you'd be into ahead of time, Googling "top things to do in $city" is a great place to start. There's no shame in doing the touristy things everyone else always does, especially on your first visit to a place where you're just trying to see what's out there--there's a reason they're super popular. All the same, don't feel like you have to do any of the big attractions because they're the big ones that you simply must do to properly experience a place or whatever--if you look at a description of something and can already tell you're going to hate it, or even if it inspires no more than a "meh" in you, I hereby give you full permission to skip it without feeling guilty.

My only major other tip is to limit yourself to only one thing per day. For people who can reliably spend less than four hours in a museum (...cough) this may be a bit stringent, so I will permit you to go up to two things per day if you think that only one sounds insane. But consider that the best way to figure out where you might want to go/what you want to see is to actually go to a place and get a sense for what's out there! If you come in with only one thing a day planned you will have the reassurance that you're not going to be sitting in your hotel twiddling your thumbs but will also have ample time to take advantage of cool opportunities that come your way. Also remember that you are not going to see all the things. Not even close. And at least for me there's a much greater chance of trying to do way too much and then having a crappier experience because I'm exhausted and don't actually have the time to enjoy all the different pieces of my itinerary than there is of going somewhere and being bored because I don't have enough to do. Things to do will be hurling themselves into your path all the time, for real. You don't have to worry about planning activities outside of making sure that if there's anything you're dying to see/do you make it a priority. Thus: one thing a day. Try it!

Also my final tip is that those "city passes" and whatever that give access to a huge long list of attractions for a "discount" are without exception a huge ripoff and invitation to huge burnout as you rush around trying to do six things in order to get your money's worth out of them. Finding the best deal on tickets to museums and whatever is another way to easily get sucked into an internet rabbit hole and it is just so not fucking worth it. Life is too short, pay the damn full price and don't worry about it, attraction costs are not what's going to break your budget, unless again you're doing one of a small number of very specific things, in which case you'll KNOW.

I hope you found that helpful! Let me know if you have any questions or want more specific advice about anything or any particular country. I can obviously ramble on about things for ages.

#travel #travel tips

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sml8180 · 6 years

Text

Shot at Redemption - 06

Recovery and Tension

Rose had no idea how long she was out. She only knew that she woke up somewhere she didn’t recognize, wearing something completely different from what she had been in prior, laying on a bed that wasn’t her own. She tried to sit up, but her body protested, to the point where she simply gave up, looking around the room from her position on the bed. The room was simple, with bare wooden walls, the door to a closet near the corner, a simple desk and chair against one wall, and a nightstand with a lamp beside the bed. Rose spotted her backpack on the chair, and she was piecing together what had happened as the door to the room opened.

Joseph stepped into the room, quietly humming as he did. He shut the door behind him, and turned to Rose. He held a small case in one hand, and a bowl with a spoon in the other. The Father gave a gentle smile when he saw that Rose was awake, and he approached her, setting the case and bowl on the nightstand, and moving her backpack to the floor so he could sit on the chair by her bedside.

“It’s good to see you awake,” he said, looking over her face. His tone was gentle, and his voice soft. He was wearing his shirt, but had abandoned his vest.

Rose didn’t say anything, though not for a lack of trying. Her throat was too dry for her to speak. Joseph carefully took hold of her arm, looking it over. She had been cleaned up, but she was still banged up, covered in cuts and bruises. Rose winced a bit as Joseph manipulated her arm, before he set it down onto the bed again, opening the case he had brought with him and taking out some bandages. He began to carefully wrap the worst of her wounds, mostly on her forearm and her wrist, and moved on to her other arm after he had finished. When both her arms were wrapped up, he returned to his chair, shutting the case and setting it on the floor.

“It would seem Jacob was a bit rougher with you than I anticipated,” he mused, stirring the contents of the bowl on the nightstand. “I’m going to help you sit up, now.” Joseph reached for her, taking a careful hold on her arm and a gentle hand on her back, helping her to sit up against the pillows. She turned her head to look over at Joseph, as he picked up the bowl from the nightstand, stirring it carefully, before getting a spoonful of broth from the chicken soup it contained, and bringing it to her mouth. Rose hesitated for a second, before she accepted the spoon, sipping the warm broth from it and letting it run down her throat. If this was what she had to deal with to get something into her, so be it, because she was too sore and weak to do much of anything, at the moment. A comfortable quiet fell between them. Joseph softly hummed as he fed Rose, and she simply accepted his help. When about half the bowl was finished, Joseph set it down, pulling a napkin from his shirt pocket and carefully wiping her chin clean of any broth that had dripped down.

“Where am I..?” Rose was finally able to speak, though her voice was hoarse and weaker than normal.

“In my bedroom in my home behind the chapel. I don’t often use it, so it isn’t any imposition,” Joseph answered. It explained why things were so simple, at least. Joseph didn’t seem like someone to have much aside from what he needed. “I felt it would be best, after you endured just over two weeks with Jacob. His methods normally only take about a week to get through to stubborn minds, but you withstood far more.”

“What can I say, I’m a tough bitch,” Rose gave a soft laugh, though had to stop short, coughing a bit from her dry throat.

“Save your voice, Rose.” His request was gentle, as if he were a parent taking care of a sick child. “Jacob did a number on you, physically. It will take a bit of time for you to even get your voice back. For now, we’ll worry about getting some food into you. I need to take care of a few things, and I want that soup finished by the time I get back.” The Father’s voice was stern, leaving no room for the woman to argue. She simply nodded as he stood up, putting the chair back by the desk and moving Rose’s backpack closer to the bed, in case she wanted to get anything out of it.

While Joseph was gone, Rose held up her end of their deal, finishing the soup that was in the bowl. After she finished, she reached into her backpack, finding her radio and turning it on, letting the Project’s music fill the room. When he returned, a subtle smile tugged at his lips when he heard the music, and when he saw the white leather book in her hands.

“John was hoping you had started reading it,” he said, his calm voice coming through over the music. Rose looked up, reaching for the radio and turning it off, before nodding a bit. “What do you think?” His question was genuine, as he set a glass of water down on the nightstand.

“It’s a lot to take in, for sure. I still don’t know what to think about it,” Rose admitted. “You know my opinion on God, already, so it shouldn’t be a surprise.”

“Not a surprise, no,” Joseph started, pulling the desk chair over and sitting down by the bed. “Especially considering our first encounter. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.”

“It says that you were arrested… No specifics, but, it’s a bit of a surprise…” Rose’s words were almost uncertain, her fingers running over the page she had been reading. She reached for the glass of water, taking a sip of the liquid.

“A surprise that you relate to, if John’s research is to be believed,” Joseph responded. His tone surprised Rose a bit; he didn’t sound judgemental over the fact that she’d had so many issues with the law. “Three arrests, numerous escorts home by police, and actively wanted in multiple states. It seems you’ve had a troubled past.”

“Understatement of the century, right there.”

“Could you elaborate? So long as you’re up for it.”

Rose sighed quietly, marking her page and closing the book in her lap. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“You could start with your family. What were they like?” Joseph’s question was spoken carefully, and he seemed to be genuinely curious about the background Rose had come from.

The woman ran her fingers over the leather cover of her book, finding herself unable to meet the Father’s eyes. “I wouldn’t say they were much of a family, to be perfectly honest,” she began. “My mother was a lawyer, and my father a preacher. They were both straight-laced and strict as hell. Weren’t exactly fans of anything, really, and especially of anything I did. Just about lost their heads when I got this done,” Rose motioned to the barbell she had going through her piercing on her right eyebrow.

“It would seem things were not easy for either of us,” Joseph supposed, his rosary wrapped hand resting on top of Rose’s as it traced the pattern on the cover of her book.

“The early chapters hit a bit close to home… Mother was a screamer, and Father ruled with fists…” her voice trailed off, as her mind wandered off to memories she’d locked away. The pair sat in silence for a time, before there was a knock at the bedroom door. Without anything being said, the person on the other side opened it, and stepped into the room.

“Let the water wash away your sins.” John added in. He came up behind his older brother, and leaned against the desk, arms crossed over his chest, and one leg crossing over the other.

“Don’t know about that just yet, Blue,” Rose denied. “Maybe at some point, but I’m not gonna say what you want.”

“You can’t blame me for trying,” the Baptist shrugged.

Joseph shook his head a bit, looking over his shoulder at John. “Is there something you wished to discuss, John?”

“I wanted to talk to Rose, actually,” the youngest Seed confirmed.

Joseph looked between Rose and John for a moment, before lightly patting Rose’s hand. He picked up the empty bowl from the nightstand and case from the floor, and stood up, making his way out. The older brother whispered something Rose couldn’t catch to John, before he left the room entirely. John stayed where he was, until the bedroom door shut, and he made his way over to the bedside, sitting on the chair his older brother had been occupying. A silence fell between them for a few moments, as they simply observed one another. Finally, Rose decided to break the silence, after taking a sip of water from her glass.

“What do you want, Blue?” She felt she’d let her walls down enough around Joseph, and they came right back up when John had come into the room.

“You look like you were hit by a truck,” was John’s response. He was smirking a bit, two could play at her game, if need be.

“No shit. Your big brother effectively fucked me up for two weeks.”

“Language,” John interjected, speaking the word in a sort of sing-song tone. “Looks like we still have work to do, especially with that mouth of yours. Jacob might not care, but Joseph certainly isn’t a fan, and aside from certain situations, neither am I.”

“What do you plan to do about it, then, Law Boy?”

“That’s a new one.”

“I try to mix it up, sometimes.”

John rolled his eyes, shaking his head a bit. “You’ll have to try to clean up for us, or we might as well just leave you with Jacob again. Going from your condition, he’d break you easy, turn you into one of his soldiers.”

“Don’t threaten me, you bastard,” Rose spat. “You can’t make me do anything.”

“So you think. But I know Jacob almost had you eating out of his hand. He can break you down, because he knows what it takes to get a person to do things they would never consider.”

“I know what your brother can do, Blue. But you can’t make me do anything. If you think you can, then I’d sure as hell love to see you try.”

Without a word, John got up, taking a couple of steps to close the gap between himself and the bed. He braced his left hand against the wall, the thud almost making Rose jump. His other hand was by her left shoulder, effectively trapping Rose in his tall frame. “I wouldn’t be so confident. Jacob might be rougher than I am, but you haven’t got a clue what I’m capable of.”

Rose didn’t respond, she simply stared up at John, their faces inches apart. She was lost in those damn blue eyes of his. The threatening tone didn’t help matters, either. She might not be one for fantasies, but having John Seed caging her in with his body, mere inches away from her, was sending her brain into overdrive. Several tense moments of silence passed, and the pair were still so focused on one another that neither one heard the door open.

“John, what in the world are you doing?” Joseph’s voice cut through the silence, and John straightened up quickly, looking towards his brother.

“I was just, you see-”

“We will discuss it later, John. In private. For now, Rose should be resting.” Joseph’s tone left no room for his brother to argue, and the younger man practically sulked out of the room. Once John was gone, Joseph checked on Rose, and left the room, shutting the door to allow her to rest and recover on her own.

Taglist: @deputyoneill @johnseedthot @deputyshitlordsantana @jacobsmusicbox @farcrying5 @johnseedsplane @rookieseed

#fc5 fanfic #far cry 5 #joseph seed #john seed #oc: rose carter #shot at redemption #SaR

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