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wannajointhecrabcult · 4 years

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Masks and Music

(Part 1)

Part 2

I didn't think that my last post would've gotten ANY notes at all, so imagine my surprise when I find out that people actually liked it. After that suprise I thought why not and make another one so here we go! This is a Miraculous/Batfam crossover.

Imagine that Damian gets sent to Paris because the fam doesn't want him to become an emotionally constipated sad boi like Bruce and think that a change in scenery would help.

They don't know about the whole Hawkmoth situation because SOMEONE from the justice league decided that the while thing was a prank DESPITE that it was an ENTIRE CITY calling instead of a single person.

Like, aren't you guys supposed to be the world's greatest heros or something?

Who hired you?

Damian being the grumpy lil kid that he is holds a grudge and decides to not accept any calls or video chats from his family or tell them about Hawkmoth because that's what you get when you send someone across the world against their will.

(and because of plot convenience shhh)

Anyways, Damian goes to school as instantly adds Lila onto his mental list of people he needs to get rid of.

I mean, seriously, he's only been is the room for what, 15 seconds and he's already getting a migraine?

Great. Juusssttt great.

He sits in the back of the class with what seems to be the only person with brain cells in this room.

The dark haired girl just looks over and sees the disgust at Lila written all over his face and gives him a silent empathetic nod.

'This is unfortunately normal here.' she tries to convey through the small action.

He just nods back to show his understanding before turning around to observe the others.

In a few minutes Ms. Bustier walks in the room and asks him to introduce himself to the class.

It looks like the teacher never told the class that they were getting a new student because they all have to do double takes when they realize that there's a new face in the room.

He gives them the bare basics, telling them that his name is Damian Grayson, he's from America, and that he doesn't want any of them to talk to him before sitting down.

Clearly the teacher wanted him to say more or scold him for being so rude but a glare shut her up.

Later during a break period Lila tries to flirt with him and brags all about how she's met so many different celebrities and her achievements.

He tells her off and tries to move away but her nails are digging into his arms as she tries to convince him that he should stay away from Marinette.

Before he can maim her, the dark haired girl comes out from behind him and starts spraying Lila down like an unruly cat with some sort of strong smelling liquid from a spray bottle.

Lila screeches and stomps away.

When he turns to his hero the girl explains.

"It's a mixture of shredded lemon, expired maple syrup, vinegar, and pomegranate juice. I call it People Repellant but Thot Begone works too. Oh, and I'm Marinette by the way."

He eyes her hand before shaking it.

"Damian, though I assume you already know that. Can I get some of that by the way? I know a couple insufferable annoyances that would benefit from a spray down.

Marinette just blinks for a second before she bursts out laughing and that was the start of a great friendship.

Together they:

Make fun of Lila in the back of class.

Help eachother with homework (they only cheat off eachother when they REALLY need help)

Prank Lila in odd ways (Hey, just because she found hundreds of furbies hidden around her house that turn on one by one in the middle of the night effectively scaring the crap out of her when she's trying to sleep doesn't mean that it's their fault. She had it coming.)

Break a couple laws (shhhhhhh. Those toy stores don't need those furbies anyways).

Dare eachother over stupid things (they still insist that the cereal incident was caused by the other).

And overall become closer as friends.

They bring out the overdramatic chaotic gremlin child in eachother.

One time when Damian goes over to Marinette's place to work on a project he finds her singing a Disney song to herself on her balcony.

This isn't the first time they've caught eachother singing.

One time Marinette caught Damian in the art room at school humming one of the many annoyingly cheesy and catchy songs that Dick likes to listen to.

Despite him explaining the embarrassing situation to her she still teased him for weeks after.

He'll never get to live it down.

Damian shakes his head to get rid of the flashback when a devious smirk spreads across his face as a revenge plan comes to mind.

After carefully placing his stuff on the floor he sneakily makes his way across the space until he's right behind her.

That's when he joins in.

Screaming at the top of his lungs at first, effectively giving her a mini heart attack before eventually quieting down to a normal singing volume.

She glares at him, annoyed by his loud and obnoxious entrance before she starts singing again.

They eventually end up full Disney movie dramatically performing around her balcony with dance moves and over dramatic acting.

Is it bad that actual birds and other animals are appearing and joining in?

Damian totally kept one of the pigeons.

He named it Dolores.

(He later trained Dolores to attack Rossi on sight.)

When they're finished they end up on the floor out of breath.

They stay like that for a few minutes before Damian sits up.

"That. That was fun. I don't think I've actually ever sang before."

Marinette jolts up in suprise and turns to face him.

"Really? I never would've guessed. You have a really nice singing voice."

He would deny till his dying breath that he blushed when she said that but he covers it up with a smirk.

"Well I guess that's just because yours is so terrible in comparison."

He squawks when she jabs a finger in his side.

"Pshh. As if. Besides, my singing skills can't be worse then your gaming skills." She challenges with a cheeky smile.

"ExCuSe mE?!"

And that's how they spend the rest of the day playing video games, leaving the unfinished project to be completed on a later day.

Good thing it isn't due until 2 weeks time.

After a couple of hours playing video games, creating many possible Lila murder plans, eating pastries, and joking around, it's time for him to leave.

As Damian left for his place he got a feeling that something big was gonna happen.

Marinette also got the feeling but they both ignored it.

Little did they know, someone just happened to walk by and starstruck by the amazing singing they recorded the performance before posting it on the internet.

Imagine the duo's suprise when they wake up the next day to find themselves trending on the internet.

Luckily the video quality was pretty trash so their faces weren't identifiable but the audio was loud and clear.

The world was talking about the cute couple singing to their hearts desire on a balcony. If that's not cliche and adorable then the world doesn't know what is.

The assumption about their relationship status left them looking like tomatos but that didn't stop them from wonder why they didn't notice a creep recording them.

Damn Disney songs and their unnatural ability to distract people.

Of course Lila took advantage of the rising popularity of the video and talked about how she taught the two people in the video how to sing and gave them tips.

The two just walked past the idiot squad and sat down in their seats, making a mental note to come up with a prank later, when the akuma alarms came on.

They fall into their normal routine of Marinette running out to find a place to transform as Damian covers for her.

Oops did I forget to mention that Damian found out her identity because she crashed through his window in the middle of the night still transformed and asked him what's the answer to question 24 in their science homework because she just defeated an akuma by herself and was running on 20 minutes of sleep?

My bad.

Anyways it turns out today was the day Marinette had officially had enough of Chat's bullcrap.

It was gonna be a normal akuma situation.

Ladybug trying to fight the poor butterfly victim while chat noir either doesn't show up, tries to do everything on his own to impress her and ruins the whole plan, or just watches and complains about how she needs to get over her denial and date him BUT

This time he decided to actively try to push her in the akuma's way therefore putting her in SO MUCH MORE DANGER than she was already in.

Now she had to dodge out of the akuma's way AND CHAT'S!

WhAt ThE fUdGe?!?!

You think possibly killing Ladybug and trying to force her to beg for you to save her is gonna make her like you?!?

Just how hard did you hit your head when Gabriel dropped you on the floor when you were 2?

After the akuma was eventually defeated Ladybug told Chat to meet her on an abandoned rooftop that night because they needed to talk.

Chat being the oblivious person that he is (I swear I don't actually hate chat noir, this is for the plot I'm sorry) thought that it was for a love confession and became overly smug before leaving.

Making sure that he isn't following her, Marinette meets up with Damian at his place (school's over because of the attack) and asks him to help.

Later that day when the two miraculous holders meet up Ladybug distracts the Catboy by flirting with him while Damian uses his ninja skills for something other than sneaking up on her and giving Marinette mini heart attacks.

From behind he quickly hits a pressure point causing the other boy to fall unconscious.

Using her ALMIGHTY GUARDIAN OF THE MIRACULOUS powers, Ladybug takes Adrien's ring away and places a spell on him that makes it so he will never be able to use another miraculous ever again.

After they take Adrien home Marinette gives Damian the ring and Night Prowler is born.

He promises to do everything in his power to make sure that Selina and his family doesn't find out for the sake of his pride.

We'll see how that goes.

Night Prowler first officially appeared during an akuma named 'Break Dancer'.

Ironically, she was a ballerina that had to drop out of the finals in a competition because she broke her right leg the day before the show.

She could turn civilians into back up dancers and forced them to perform against their will.

They also worked as minions who would attack the duo for her while she stayed a safe distance away.

It was pretty obvious that the akumatized item was the music box held inside the bag that Break Dancer had slung around her shoulders but the real question was how could they get to it without becoming attacked by the backup dancer or becoming one of them.

Luckily (eheheh), a car with an open window playing music just happened to pass by before driving off.

Before it drove off, the music coming from the car was loud enough to play over the music box which caused some of the minions to become free again and run off.

Ladybug called her lucky charm and a Bobby pin landed in her hand.

As she looked around she noticed a store a couple blocks away that had a couple radios.

Unfortunately, the store was locked and closed.

Fortunately, she knew how to pick locks and a Bobby pin did come from her lucky charm soooo......

Who is she to deny literal gods.

They break into the store and grab a radio, and a speaker and rush over to where the akuma was causing chaos.

They turn on the radio, connect the speaker and turn the volume on as loud as it can go before flipping through the stations for a good song.

If they're gonna fight with music in the background they're gonna be picky about it and wont settle for anything other than epic.

While fighting they eventually get swept up in the music and end up singing along.

It's nothing less than full on majestic.

When the fight is over and the akuma is purified they find out that someone recorded it and posted it on the internet as well.

Now everyone knows that the beloved hero of Paris and her new partner were the two people singing on that balcony.

Ummmmm.....

Good thing that the video quality was trash right?

If it weren't for that their identities would've been busted the moment they started singing in hero form.

Luckily there aren't many people other than Damian that know what Marinette's singing voice sounds like so they're okay.

Well.... They WERE okay,

Until a certain rockstar and his agent came across the two videos and put two and two together.

So now King Sting (bee!jagged) and Peridot (turtle!penny) have joined the team.

Poor Penny, now she has to deal with two gremlin children and a some sort of bizarre man-child.

The next akuma confused the group quite a bit.

He didn't really do anything but sit on a rooftop waiting for the miracle team to show up.

They were all suspicious of him at first but when they did reveal themselves to him he explained his situation.

He was akumatized because his favorite rock band broke up but he didn't really want to take their miraculouses away.

He just asked if they could perform another song for him and he would give his akumatized item to them.

They all sorta looked at eachother and collectively went 'screw it why not' and sang another song.

If they were great before, they are absolutely AMAZING now.

Well that's what happens when you add a famous rockstar to a team of singing superheros I guess.

The akuma was blown away and true to his word handed over the rolled up picture in his pocket and was purified despite of Hawkmoth's nagging.

Haha screw you Hawky.

This time the ordeal was recorded by a news station and the 'hand over the akuma in exchange for a song' thing became a trend.

There were still normal akuma's that didn't follow follow it but those were far flung between.

It seems like Hawkmoth was getting annoyed by this so there started being less akuma attacks over the months.

Because of this some people were actively trying to get upset to attract one of the purple butterflies.

They traded one good thing for another I guess.

To stop that from happening the group started performing in public as superheros during concerts and festivals.

Because of this they became quite well known outside of Paris as well.

Is it ironic that more people know them as a band rather than a superhero team now?

When Marinette learned that they could change what their superhero costumes looked like if they put enough will into it she squealed.

Marinette designs superhero performance costumes for them whenever they have a festival to play at.

Whenever asked about their outfits they always reply with MDC.

Marinette's business gets really popular after that.

And since no one knows who MDC really is, she doesn't have to worry about the whole "Oh no me and my family are gonna be in danger!" thing

It's a win win!

Overtime they basically become a second (or third for some people) family to eachother.

Damian becomes more 'kid like' and open to others,

Marinette becomes more confident and overall happier,

Jagged gets to hang out with his awesome niece and her 'maybe more than just a friend',

And Penny gets a new outlet for stress and has so many more crazy stories to tell people.

One day while she's in the living room on the sofa watching 'The AristoCats' Damian just barges into the room and dramatically flops over onto of her.

He just lays there with his head in her lap and the rest of his body sprawled on the couch.

After everything that has happened this is normal for them now.

Without asking any questions or talking at all they just watch the movie together with the occasional remark or quip between them.

Around half way through the movie Jagged kicks down the door, effectively scaring the crap out of the two teens, while Penny follows behind him with an apologetic look on her face.

At first Jagged was yelling about something having to do with'Fang' and 'Dragon' and 'Miraculous' but after taking in the domestic atmosphere of the room he just sits down on the floor and joins in on watching the movie.

Penny, shaking her head in both amusement and exasperation, sits down on another chair and does the same.

While combing through Damian's hair with her fingers Marinette looks around the room.

'My life can't get any more complicated, can it?'

Oh boy, she just jinxed it.

This is just an idea I've had bouncing around in my head for awhile and I couldn't resist the urge to write it out. I AM planning on making a part 2 so if you like this keep an eye out for that. I'm by no means a fast writer though so it will take a while. But then again not many people will probably read this soo.... Yeah.

#maribat #maridami #miraculous x dc #daminette #Miraculous crossover #damian x marinette #i still cant believe that people actually liked my last post omg #people are so supportive in this fandom #masks and music

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duskandstarlight · 3 years

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Embers & Light (Chapter 24)

Notes: Chapter 24 - can you guys believe it?! I have brought you a lot of angst in the last few chapters, but there is a lil fluffy moment in this chapter which I hope you enjoy. Plus protective Cassian (one of my personal favourites).

As ACOSF draws nearer, I wanted to ask you guys a question. I initially was hoping to finish this fic before it came out, but I just don't think it's going to happen. So if you would still read E&L after ACOSF comes out, could you let me know? It will help me to make a decision on whether I need to start wrapping this all up sharpish, or whether I can continue to move along at my current pace.

Enjoy :) And I hope you all are having a lovely festive period.

p.s I’ve been having issues with tagging blogs lately. Let me know if you get a notification?

Chapter 24 Nesta

Nesta was drowning.

Drowning in the dark; in the unfathomable cold that bit at her ankles and dragged her down by invisible, insistent hands and sharp, pointed claws. Down, down, down Nesta went, into the inky blackness that sung of ancient horror, fighting for a breath that she could not take.

Inside her head, Nesta was screaming; the sound an echo, as if she were detached from her body and she were listening to someone else. It was a scream of rage and unmeasurable pain as her body was torn apart and rearranged: her bones cracking and reforming into solid steel; her ears stretching into points; her limbs elongating. And with that fire a burning cold that was deeper than the gap between stars. Nesta screamed from the agony of it, but cold water rushed into her lungs and stifled the sound. Pain licked at her skin like the flames of a fire, until her blood was bubbling with rage and a thirst for revenge that ran so deep it became woven into the very fabric of who she was — of who she was being moulded into.

Nesta should have passed out from the pain but instead she fought to remain conscious; wholly awake and wholly a witness as she tore at the edges of the blasted Cauldron. The sides were made of nothing but canvas, Nesta’s nails ripping through it as the Cauldron bucked and shrieked, like an animal caught beneath her paw.

Bright light poured through the gaping holes, blinding her new born eyes that had not yet seen.

She felt the power of it, the piece she carved out for herself in fury and with revenge singing in her blood. She made it hers, let that power sink into her bones, her skin, as they snapped and cracked and reshaped themselves…

The Cauldron continued to thrash and struggle. The water took on a thicker quality like tar, but Nesta did not relent. She ravaged that power until it was a part of her; stolen and consumed. Impossible to take back.

And then Nesta was no longer drowning but falling.

The pocket of air hit her with such force that Nesta found herself with the irony that she could not breathe, even though it was what she needed more than anything in the world. But then her lungs were spluttering, her stomach lurching, and inky blackness — ancient death — was regurgitated onto crystalline rock. Nesta heaved until her stomach had no more and she was gasping for breath — cold, bracing fresh air that tasted like freedom — before she rolled onto her back, her hair plastered to her face.

She shivered from the cold and the unquenchable fury that would not see her yield.

Above her was midnight black, the stillness of what Nesta wanted to believe was sky but she knew was only an illusion. It brought her comfort even though she wanted to hate it; wanted to sob and scream until she was so exhausted that she couldn’t muster any more strength.

And she should have been terrified but she also felt deathly calm, even as a voice spoke out of the darkness. It was a voice that was ancient; old and superlunary with a strength that whispered of unimaginable power for better or worse. “I have been waiting for you, Nesta Archeron.”

Words like ice fire. Of steel and reserve. Of power beyond Nesta’s wildest reckoning.

It hurt to move but Nesta scrambled to her feet, slipping on loose rock and craggy stone. The sound that beat in her ears was an insistent, terrified rhythm, and it took Nesta a moment to piece together that it was her heart, throwing itself with a repetitive boom against strips of bone — a flimsy cage for something so fierce.

Whirling around, Nesta tried to source the voice but found only that endless stretch of deep velvet, and in the near distance, a towering shadow that rose up, up, up into the darkness until it blended into the canvas, like something disappearing into the clouds.

Nesta made herself take stock. Made herself stand still. To dampen the terror and focus on that spiky, deep-set anger that still consumed her. Her back stiffened, her chin rose, and when she spoke for the first time with her new lungs, Nesta did not let her voice shake.

She clenched her fists until her new nails bit into the meat of her palms. “Where am I?”

A sensual laugh as smooth as marble echoed around her — perfectly rendered. “Do you hear the wind? It moans your name, Nesta Archeron. Your twin can hear it. They’ve always been able to hear it. Your history written into the night sky where you only need join the dots. So easy to ignore until now.” A pause and Nesta felt that being move. Her head snapped around as the voice mused from behind her, “And your destiny: a sacrifice and a gift in the same moment.”

Nesta tightened her fists in an effort to ground herself and willed herself to lean back into that odd sense of being rather than the fear that was making her heart race. She felt her nails break through her skin with a pop. She scented blood; metallic and salt. She was so cold she wanted to shake until her teeth chattered, but Nesta would not show weakness. She would not break down.

So Nesta rose up tall and made her voice ice cold; strong rather than brittle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Another long, sensual laugh. A caress akin to a brush stroking the softest of bristles over her skin. “No, you don’t,” the voice agreed. “Not yet. But you will.”

A moment in time stretched out, the pause pregnant and awesome. Then a soft light in the darkness above, growing in size: a fleck, a star, a luminescent ball of light…

“What do you want, Nesta Archeron?”

“I want revenge,” Nesta replied, her voice full of a sudden vigour as vengeance lashed out on a forked tongue.

Again, more soft laughter that licked over Nesta’s body in a shiver. “You have already got that, have you not? Do you not feel that deathly power in your veins? That hum of primitive power that you have stolen, that has been woven into who you now are.”

“I will end him. I will end everyone who has caused my sister harm.”

“Of that, I have no doubt. But what will that take from you?”

Hysterical laughter wanted to burst forth from Nesta’s lungs, as if she could only feel the sharpest of emotion and everything else were muted.

“Everything has already been taken from me,” Nesta spat, balling her hands into harder fists, her nails digging into her crescent shaped wounds.

Pain flared, fresh and sharp but Nesta paid it no heed. She was no stranger to pain and she would rally. Every. Damn. Time.

The light above Nesta continued to grow until it became distinct; a fiery palm emerging out of the dark. Nesta did not flinch. Did not scream or back away. Did not bow or yield or grovel. She only let pearlescent fingers close around Nesta’s own, the touch like a near-scalding bath that settled only when your blood thrummed beneath raw, pink skin.

“So much sacrifice,” the voice pondered, turning Nesta’s hand. Nesta’s fingers unfurled from her palm without her willing it, until her palm lay open, the half-crescent moons bloody tears in her otherwise new skin. “But what about a gift?” the voice asked. “A gift for the girl who lives with such anger and guilt. The girl who sees the world in all its terrible glory and feels too much. What do you say to that?”

“I only want revenge,” Nesta repeated, her mind assaulting her with images of Elain as she was pushed under the inky water, as she emerged drowning and wholly new — wrong.

No laughter this time. Only that hand rising, fingers coming together until they were pointed and pinching something out of the dark.

A pearl of pure light hovered millimetres from those shining fingers, as if it were attached by an invisible string. It sung with such radiant brilliance that Nesta wanted to look away: it was the pure, unfathomable brightness of a midnight star. A melody that sung of promise and hope.

“What is revenge worth if it does not emerge from the desire to protect?” the voice asked, letting go of that drop of light. It did not fall like water; it floated down slowly, until it nestled in the crook of Nesta’s palm like a pearl that shimmered as it caught the light.

Nesta remained deathly still, staring at the drop of possibility in her palm.

“Revenge is choice, Nesta Archeron. It can be a wish for death and pain or to protect and defend.”

“Both,” Nesta said fiercely. “It can be both.”

“Multi-faceted and complex, as all decisions are,” the voice agreed. “And there are so many strands in you, aren’t there? Already you have felt one of them, although I do not think you have truly placed the puzzle pieces together. But here is another choice; something to cherish and use wisely on those who are worthy. Everything is cyclical. Day and night, birth and death, love and sacrifice…”

The luminescent hand closed Nesta’s palm, but rather than the drop of light bring dampened by shadow, it sank into Nesta’s skin, until it too became a part of her.

“I don’t want a gift.”

But even as Nesta spoke she knew she did not truly mean it.

She also knew it was too late. She felt her blood spike and thrum as that light channeled into her, twining around that deathly power that she had already stolen and forced into her remaking.

A low hum vibrated the ground beneath Nesta’s feet. “Don’t want it or do not deserve it?”

And then Nesta was drowning again with such startling speed that she hadn’t the time to take a deep breath. Terror gripped her, and with it power sung in her blood, the sensation like boiling water, as if her very skin were bubbling with it even though that dark water bit with a cold akin to the fiercest frostbite.

As if fear had summoned it, silver fire began to glow at Nesta’s palms. Water rushed into Nesta’s lungs and with it, that power surged.

Up, up, up Nesta went, like an arrow unsheathed from a bow until the inky black was no longer concrete and colour swam on the surface.

Everything tilted as the Cauldron tipped, jerking the water and Nesta out onto the cold flagstones of reality.

Nesta took a desperate, ragged breath through the gag that was suddenly back around her mouth, and cast a look around the room: to Cassian who was sprawled unconscious on the ground, his arm outstretched and his wings in tatters; to Feyre who was kneeling in her own vomit tucked into Rhysand’s side...

And on her sister’s face, Nesta could see what she was: ravaging, deadly, awesome. A face and figure to stop males and females in their tracks. A face and figure that would make humans and fae alike think twice.

But that was nothing of the forged steel in Nesta’s bones, in her blood, as she scrabbled across the floor to Elain on her long, unnatural limbs and tore the gag from her mouth.

It was a steel that no-one could see but that they could all sense as Nesta locked eyes with the King of Hybern, that promise of death still swimming in those mercury eyes that moved.

She would have her revenge. Of that, she was sure.

***

Nesta gasped.

Her hands flailed, her body screamed with agony, her lungs were hoarse and raw, her abdomen set with a pain that went so deep she knew something was gravely wrong.

And through her veins… no whisper of her magic. Not a drop.

It was that which made her thrash, her lungs suddenly unable to breathe from the agony that wrangled through her body.

She heard her name. Again and again; the high-pitched desperation of a female. Feyre. But then something much lower. A caress. A rumble that quelled her fear and kicked the breath back into her with a force that had her gasping.

Nesta’s hand found a rough, calloused palm across the mattress. Fingers curled unbelievably gently around hers. She heard the rustle of wings. Smelt pine and musk and the bracing fresh air of the Illyrian skies.

“Nesta. You need to take your medicine. The morphine has worn off.”

Cassian.

Even with her eyes submerged in the dark, Nesta knew that Cassian had turned his head to murmur something in low tones to her sister — her senses heightened in the wake of the fear that was still bitter on her tongue.

Then light retreating footsteps. The click of a closed door. A large hand on her temple. A wet rag against her lips. Nesta opened her mouth despite the foul tasting tincture which burned her throat and flooded her tastebuds; swallowing it down, begging it to soothe over the pain which she could not describe for its wrongness, even though she had been told that she would heal.

Frawley had come to visit her the last time Nesta had resurfaced. Had explained why she was there and what had happened. That Nesta had the gift of healing. That she had over-healed Mas's traumatic injuries and moved on to older ones. That she had sacrificed her wellness for someone else’s. That she would have died had Cassian not got her to stop.

Another power Nesta needed to train. As if she didn’t have enough to wrangle under control.

Nesta did not remember much after dropping to her knees at the widows camp. She remembered the click of a lock inside of her; the way her power had flipped from silver to startling, brilliant white. That she had known what to do as she lifted her hands over Mas and started to use her magic for something wholly good.

“What did you feel for your power came to the surface?” Frawley had asked before she took leave.

Nesta had bitten back a whimper of agony as she shifted uncomfortably on the mattress. She had been swamped in heavy blankets and consumed in Cassian’s scent. His bed not hers. But the scent of him… it comforted her. She was too tired to rally against it. Had woken knowing that she was immeasurably safe even though memory tried to persuade her that she was not.

Eventually, when she realised that Frawley’s second eye had come to rest on her along with ice blue, Nesta had supplied, “I felt grief.”

“And what else?” Frawley had urged, her ice blue eye glowing with intensity.

Nesta had been too tired to answer. Her eyelids heavy from the sedative she had been given, despite the energising tea Frawley had administered to attempt to speed up the act of replenishing her magic. To fight the fatigue one felt when they had been drained of power.

And now she was waking again and Frawley was gone.

Braving the light, Nesta cracked open an eye. Her head throbbed, as if her brain were growing in her skull and it was pressing against bone.

Cassian was hovering over her, a crumpled frown twisting his brow as he dripped the medicine past her lips. He caught her eyes opening a fraction too late and she catalogued worry slide into relief before it was pushed back and a light was forced into those dark irises. When he smiled at her, it was too tight and anguished to ring true. She must have been in a bad way — very bad — for him to lose sight of his tendency to arrange his expression into that casual playfulness. For her sister to still be here, hovering by her bedside unsure how to act or how to behave. For her mate to be in the room next door, his star-blessed magic permeating Cassian’s bedroom even through stone and plaster and wood. She could even sense Azriel’s shadows moving like an agitated fog.

No Amren. No Mor.

Something to be thankful for.

“Mas?” she asked. Her throat was dry despite the tincture and the word came out scratchy and raw.

Cassian pressed a glass of water to her lips.

She drank.

“Mas has left to help relocate the widows and orphans,” Cassian told her. “I had her checked over by Madja and Frawley. She is perfectly fine. Roksana too,” he added when Nesta frowned. “Mas hasn’t flown yet,” he continued. “She wanted you to witness it.”

Something tightened around Nesta’s throat. It was not panic but… deep twisting affection for the housekeeper. It must be agony for Mas not to launch straight into the skies. Yet… Nesta was touched beyond imagining that she would wait for Nesta to witness something so precious. A moment in history that was not tainted in blood and death but joy.

Cassian had paused as if he were checking himself. He had moved away from her, to the dark dresser to the left of the bed. There was a clink of glass which Nesta supposed was him stoppering the medicine. “I know you do not like it here and I understand that. You were given no choice and Illyria is…” he trailed off, as if he were searching for the right word. “It’s brutal, in both harsh reality and its beauty. But the widows and orphans… they will not forget what you have done for them — how you fought for them. Mas has been shackled in so many ways throughout her life, but her wings… You have given her freedom, Nesta. She will never forget that ,and neither will those females who witnessed you healing her.”

When Cassian turned back to look at Nesta, his eyes were glowing with such intensity she did not know what to say. He seemed to understand that, breaking their gaze to stare out of the window.

It was snowing again. The scent of it was in the air and on Cassian’s clothes, from where Nesta imagined he’d been in the throng of it all, establishing order where there was chaos. She imagined that was why his family was here.

“Azriel has some information about the kerits,” Cassian said. He remained staring out of the window, his gaze fixed on the snow falling from the thin sheets of grey cloud strung in the sky. “About where we think they came from. We would like you to be a part of the discussion.” A pause. “If you would like to be, that is.”

Nesta held back a snort partly because she knew it would hurt too much. “I don’t think your High Lord wants me to be a part of any discussion.”

“Rhys specifically asked me to fetch you before we began,” Cassian replied, not flinching at her ice-sharp words. Nesta supposed he had become immune. “You are integral to the conversation.”

Noise caught in the back of Nesta’s throat. “I thought I was just a stain you all wished you could rid yourself of.”

No, not immune. Cassian flinched as if he had been burned, his wings spreading instinctively before he could catch them. He retracted them back in with a slow huff of anger. It was not a disparaging or exasperated sigh, more… defeated, as if it were a remark that brought him pain.

Still he did not turn to her. If anything, his focus became more intent on the scenery outside. At the bustle of Illyrians as they fought against the flurry of snow that promised to kiss everything white at the worst possible time.

Cassian’s jaw feathered. “If I remember correctly, it was always you trying to rid yourself of me.”

Nesta blinked at the coarse words that held no lightness, no mockery, no teasing. That were honest and unhappy. Twisted with a rejection which hit her to the bone.

You rejected me first, Nesta wanted to say, as she watched the taut muscles in Cassian’s back. They were vibrating with an energy that usually told Nesta that he needed to fight with his fists until his body was sated.

“We believe the attacks might be orchestrated,” Cassian continued. “Azriel went to scout the perimeter to see if there was any evidence. He has only just arrived back.” Finally, those amber eyes rested back on her. They were burning with a rage that had been purposefully dialled back, but Nesta knew how much Cassian cared about his people. “Will you come?” he asked.

Shock wound through Nesta at the confession. At the brutality of what Cassian was suggesting. Anger spiked through the exhaustion with such ferocity her magic should have been roaring, but it only remained quiet. Yet… a determination solidified in her mind. She did want to be a part of the conversation. Not just to be useful, but because Nesta cared about the widows and orphans. She longed to hold Roksana close and see Mas fly. To lay the dead to rest, to check in on the injured. To see if she could use her healing magic to mend their wounds. To show that she was not an observer but a fighter - a protector. That she would lay her life on the line to protect the females who had nothing and were helpless against every threat, just as she had once been.

She did not say all that. Instead, she just said, “Fine.”

A short nod as if Cassian understood. “We can do it in here or out there.” Cassian jerked his chin to the living room. “Frawley said you are not to move if it can be helped, but something tells me you’d sooner have died than be crowded on your sick bed.”

There. A small lace of lightness that had not been there before. Forced, maybe, but there all the same.

Nesta scowled. “You thought rightly.”

“It will hurt,” Cassian warned her. “For me to lift you.”

“Then do it gently.”

A soft snicker as he moved off the many, many blankets, and then strong, corded arms slid beneath her body.

Cassian’s voice was rough in her ear. “You’re the most stubborn female I’ve ever met.”

Gritting her teeth, Nesta tried to overcome the sharp, deep-set pain that made her want to cry out.

The way Cassian gathered her to him was pain-achingly careful but it was still too much, her wounds too fresh and Nesta gasped a high-pitched cry, digging her fingers so hard into his tunic that she knew they must have bitten into the skin of his shoulders. Cassian did not indicate that she had hurt him, he only cradled her closer to the hard planes of his body, his huge wing curving around her as if he could partition off the pain and keep her safe.

The glow of the membrane was not unlike that of rusty, glowing embers. Beautiful.

Cassian remained stock still, waiting for the pain to ebb and then, slowly, as if he were hesitant to do it, his forehead came to rest on the top of her head; a bowing gesture that was almost like a confession, folding her into a protective cocoon that smelt of pine resin and warmth.

If Nesta could move without crying out, she would have traced a finger down his wing, following the spider webs of his capillaries. She had never had the opportunity to study them this close up. They were as mesmerising as fire flames as they danced their way up into the sky; as captivating as woodsmoke as it were tossed about on a breeze.

“I thought you were going to die.”

Cassian’s voice was a low, deep rumble that she felt in the pit of her stomach. In her bones. In her heart.

“Not yet,” she replied drily, but the hoarse words were muffled by the embrace.

She knew what he was trying to say. Had felt it before. The way in which history had tied the two of them together. Had made them terrified not just of dying, but without the other. An immeasurable panic that clawed at her throat and tore at her lungs.

To end up on death’s door without her lying over him was unimaginable. They had vowed to go together and even now, when they were separate rather than entwined, she would still lay her body over his broken one and refuse to live.

“Don’t say that,” Cassian clipped, his voice suddenly sharp. Broken.

Even though it hurt to move, Nesta rolled her head to press against his chest, shifting his forehead so it was lower, his lips almost brushing her skin. Nesta could not bring it in herself to care. Cassian smelt just as his sheets had — pine, musk and untamed air. Comforting.

Hesitantly, as if she had surprised him, Cassian’s large hand came to cup her head.

For a moment, they stayed like that, until the burning question that had hung in the back of her mind became too much. “Why am I in your room?” she asked.

“I had to put Mas in your bed,” Cassian confessed. She felt him smile small against her — a promise of mischief. “It’s not the way I imagined I’d first have you beneath my sheets, but I guess I should just be thankful you’re alive.”

A quiet snarl from Nesta had Cassian lifting his head to laugh. The sound was a low rasp which did not hold its usual vigour.

He was still worried. She could feel it. The sensation was relentless as a crashing tide.

“Reign in your worry,” Nesta snapped weakly. “I can feel it and it’s making me nauseous.”

Another laugh, stronger this time, and then Cassian’s emotion vanished, as if it had been carried away on a sea-kissed breeze.

“I’m going to move now,” he informed her. “Best brace yourself for the pain, sweetheart.”

It was agony. The pain so awfully deep that Nesta could hardly breathe, even as Cassian moved as smoothly as possible. She wanted to cry out, to whimper, but she would not show weakness in front of her sister’s mate.

By the time she was settled on the couch, Nesta had broken that vow; distressed sounds escaping through gritted teeth as she panted desperately for breath. With a click of Rhys's fingers, the nest of blankets that Nesta had been swaddled in appeared on the couch, just in time for Cassian to lower her onto the cushions.

Nesta did not have it in herself to be angered that Rhys had helped.

At the sound of her sister's stifled shouts, Feyre rushed out of the kitchen. She was holding a steaming mug in her hands, which Cassian plucked from his High Lady and planted straight into Nesta’s palms.

Feyre allowed him to do it without a word of protest, anxiously wringing her hands as she studied what Nesta imagined to be her too pale face, the sweat that had broken out on her forehead…

They had not spoken properly since the attack, but Feyre had been there, hovering on the periphery; anxious and sick with worry that she did not know assaulted Nesta until she too became nauseous with it. Nesta’s icy guard had been down since she had dropped to her knees beside Mas, and she hadn’t the power to stack it back up. Not when she was as exhausted as she was, her power utterly diminished and her body focussing on healing.

Finally casting a glance around the room, Nesta saw that the flames in the log burner were raging mute. She wondered who had magicked them to become silent. She hoped it was Frawley rather than Rhysand.

Rhys was positioned to the right of the fireplace, and when Nesta’s gaze purposefully passed over him as if he were little more than part of the furniture, she felt his violet eyes flick to her, his expression no doubt hard and unyielding. But Nesta was too tired to battle today.

Cassian was watching her too, glaring with such intensity at her hands that Nesta was surprised they hadn’t moved involuntarily to raise the mug to her lips. Wanting him to stop, Nesta took a slow sip of tea even though it hurt to swallow. It didn’t work; those hazel eyes remaining unwaveringly fixated. He was standing right by her head, scrutinising everything she did, his wings spread as if he were contemplating launching into flight.

Nesta wanted to hiss at him, but then Feyre sat close beside her, and that made her want to hiss more.

At his place to the left of the hearth, Azriel’s lips twitched. He had been standing as still as a statue, like marble carved out of the finest stone, his shadows stolid, but now he shifted to face her.

Nesta guessed the shadowsinger could sense her emotions with her guard down completely.

She supposed there had to be a first.

When Nesta took the last sip of her drink, Cassian’s hands were immediately there, taking it from her, his siphons winking in the firelight. Nesta barely noticed. She only felt an overwhelming sense of relief at the first whisper of silver and brilliant white that twisted through her veins like two coiled serpents; intertwined yet separate.

Easing backwards with the intention of settling into the cushions, Nesta tried to ignore the pain that suddenly stabbed through her as her stomach muscles tensed. A sharp gasp escaped her, her breath knocked out of her lungs, but then cool, shadowed hands gripped Nesta’s shoulders. They took the weight off of her abdomen, slowly lowering her backwards until she was resting comfortably.

Behind her, Nesta heard Cassian’s wings snap in and out, clearly agitated at her pain.

When Nesta turned her head to Azriel, he dipped his head to her in acknowledgement. Black tendrils of shadow whispered back to him, curling around his arms and face, waiting patiently to be bent again to their master's will.

Then the shadowsinger turned to Rhys, as if seeking the order to begin.

“Thank you for joining us, Nesta,” Rhys said tightly. “Especially given the circumstances.”

Nesta did not reply, could not find it in herself to do it, but she finally stared at their High Lord with unflinching determination.

As always, Rhys was irritatingly immaculate, leaning against the hearth as if he owned it. Already Nesta felt like he was tainting her space — her sanctuary — and although she wanted to spit at him to leave and not come back, she only gave a stiff nod.

It would appear both of them were going to be forced today. Circumstances that were greater than their feud were at work, and neither of them was going to be petty enough to undermine that.

“Feyre allowed me to view her memory of the kerits attack,” Rhys said. “Three males flew over the mountain minutes before it happened. They can’t have been a part of the usual patrol as they weren’t doing the scheduled circuit. Instead, they flew straight over the mountain pass. Do you remember that?”

Nesta frowned, reaching back into the far depths of her memory… The three dots that coursed across the sky, the winking flash of silver from steel.

Sharply, Nesta craned her head to look at Cassian, not thinking of her injuries. She gasped. The movement had twisted her abdomen in a way she was not ready for.

Cassian’s large hands fell briefly to her shoulders before he moved to perch on the left of the U-shaped couch, close to the corner where he had lain her down.

“Ragar—” she started.

But Cassian only shook his head, leaning forward so his elbows were resting on his broad thighs. His wings were held in high and tight to his spine. “Accounted for,” he told her. “And his friends. They were in the sparring rings with Devlon and countless other witnesses.”

His smile was grim. “It’s one of the first thing I checked,” he confessed. “But it made us start to wonder if perhaps the attacks have been orchestrated. One attack can be passed off as a freak accident, but three attacks across three different camps is suspicious, especially given that kerits do not venture into populated areas.”

Nesta’s expression sharpened. “You think somebody purposefully led those beasts to the widows camp?”

Rhys’s nodded. “We think it’s a possibility.” He pinned his brother with those violet eyes. “What did you find scouring the perimeter, Az?”

The shadowsinger’s expression did not physically change, but Nesta felt his shadows chill. “Carrion,” he said coldly. “A trail of it leading to the mountain pass. Morsels of it. Not enough to feed a starving pack, but deliberate enough to tempt them out of the depths of the mountains.”

“This winter has been especially punishing,” Cassian interjected. “I bet food supply has been scarce. They struggle to survive as it is. The sounds they made as they hunted probably alerted other packs who joined the hunt.”

Feyre sat forward so she was hovering on the edge of the couch. “That would be why they were so vicious. They knew they were competing with other packs for food.”

Nesta’s stomach turned as she thought of how the widows and orphans had been seen as as a meal. How they had huddled to the Eastern point of the camp with nowhere to go and no means of defending themselves.

“The carrion was well hidden,” Azriel continued with a nod, his voice as smooth as cold marble. “Frawley examined the remains. They weren’t killed with siphon magic and there were no visible wounds to the bodies. We also found boot prints in the mud; different prints ranging in size in two separate locations within a miles range of the camp. They were fresh.”

Everyone’s expression tightened.

Nesta didn’t ask if the carrion was human or animal. She didn’t want to know.

“Frawley has taken samples to analyse them,” Azriel added. “She said she will show her sisters, as well. To see if they can sense an insignia.”

“So that means the attack was orchestrated,” Feyre said. “Someone deliberately led those beasts to the camp?”

Rhys nodded. “The attack was certainly pre-meditated,” he replied, pinning Cassian with a look. “The real question is who would arrange an attack on three separate camps.”

Cassian snorted. “You know what the lords are going to say. What all of the Illyrian’s at Windhaven are going to say.”

“That it’s an attack from another war camp,” Azriel supplied, his voice chilled midnight.

“War lords usually have no issue in taking responsibility if they played a part in an attack,” Rhys countered.

“I know that,” Cassian interjected, impatience lining his voice. “So will the lords when they stop to see sense, but the moment we tell them that we suspect wrong doing, all hell will break loose. We can’t afford to lose any more lives to petty feuds. We’re still reeling from the loss of males since the war and the Rite is already looming over the camp.”

Rhys nodded to show he had heard. Nesta wondered if he mourned the loss of lives like Cassian did. The High Lord looked tired, as if he had been torn away from his mate for too long. Yet nobody looked as ravaged as Cassian did. Nesta did not know if his brothers knew of his recurring nightmares, but she hoped they learnt of them. Sometimes Cassian looked so exhausted that Nesta vibrated with a concern she could not shake. In the past, she had bitten her lip one too many times to prevent herself from ordering him to go to bed.

Nesta knew how awful it was to force someone to do something they desperately wanted but were too fearful to surrender themselves to.

“We will manage the lords,” Rhys assured Cassian. “We can decide how we are going to play that consul, but for now, we need to get to the bottom of how the kerits managed to get past Windhaven’s patrols. You and I both know how meticulous Devlon is when it comes to security around the camp. Those males shouldn't have been able to pass over the camp without being stopped by the warriors on patrol.”

“Whoever they were, they must have known that Cassian wasn't going to be in the camp today,” Azriel offered, the spymaster in him coming to the forefront. “The only good news is that they clearly had no idea that both Feyre and Nesta would be at the top of the mountain and able to fight. And," he added after a beat of consideration, "they certainly underestimated Nesta’s ability to slay the pack if she had been alone today.”

If Nesta hadn’t been white from pain, she would have had to freeze the blush that dared to grace her cheeks at the shadowsinger’s compliment.

An abrupt snort came from Cassian. When he spoke, his voice was brimming with anger, “Of course they underestimated Nesta. Even though they have witnessed her fire daily and sensed the enormity of her magic, they still can't fathom that a female could be more powerful than them. It has to be Illyrian’s at the root of it. Only they would be chauvinistic enough to fail to see what is right in front of them.”

“Which,” Rhys interjected, “has worked unwittingly in our favour. Rather than fuel hatred towards the Night Court and cement the growing opinion that we do not protect the Illyrian community, we had two High Fae slaughtering the pack well before any warriors arrived on the scene. And then Nesta brought Masak back to life — someone who the Illyrian males in this camp do not see as worthy to live amongst them.”

Through the exhaustion, anger heated Nesta’s blood. She felt her magic whisper. If Nesta looked inward, she could see the two strands. Could now sense the promise of healing magic in her veins amongst her silver fire. As if she had been granted the key in the face of Mas’s death and she had turned it over in the lock, setting that power free.

Yet, even as Nesta grazed that healing power, it was her silver fire that promised to roar.

“I didn’t do it to stop a Civil War. I did it to protect the females who cannot protect themselves,” Nesta snapped weakly. She was too tired to muster enough vigour into her words, but she was annoyed at the false implication behind her actions. That she had not done it out of love for the housekeeper, but because of politics.

“That may be,” Rhys said, his voice forcibly light, “and what you did was honourable, but we cannot ignore how the Illyrian’s might interpret the action.”

“What Rhys is trying to say,” Azriel interjected smoothly as Nesta’s nostrils flared, “is that the females already respect you. The way you defended them today will not strengthen the dissent, only highlight that there are fae outside of the Illyrian communities who have their best interests at heart. You, for example.”

“You know they like you,” Cassian said quietly. He did not look at Nesta. Instead, he remained fixated at the hands that were clasped tightly in front of him, his elbows resting on his broad knees. “You know they have accepted you since you defended them against the males.”

“I protect them because nobody else seems to bother,” Nesta said coldly. “How many innocent females died because of the cruel intentions of males today? How many were injured?”

“Thirteen dead, thirty plus injured,” Cassian told Nesta quietly. “It would have been many more if you and Feyre not been there. You moved so quickly you managed to slay the majority of the packs before they reached the females.”

Nesta’s expression hardened as she thought of the trailing guts that had glistened in the grey light of day; the way Roksana’s hands had slipped in Mas’s wet, sticky blood, and how she had croaked for help. Her first word aloud since Nesta had met her.

“That is still too many,” Nesta insisted, her voice betraying her — shaking with the anger and horror of it all. “Why would they target the widows first? Why not lead the kerits down the other side of the mountain pass where they would could reach the main camp and weaken Windhaven’s forces?”

“Perhaps the kerits were never intended to weaken Windhaven’s ranks at all,” Rhys mused. “Perhaps they were intended to prove a point.”

A shocked, prolonged pause.

“Are you saying,” Nesta said, her voice shaking, “that you think the rebellion could have orchestrated the attacks. That they might have specifically targeted the defenceless females because widows are seen as disposable, but their deaths would be enough to fuel dissent amongst the camps?”

Rhys stared at Nesta for a moment. His head tilted slightly to the side, in the same way that Cassian’s did when he was trying to puzzle her out. But Nesta barely saw it. All she saw was the twisted body of the kind cook who had fed Nesta every morning… Of lovely Durkhanai, with her beautiful curly hair and bright green eyes. A female who had been dealt the harshest of fates. She had not deserved her end. None of the females had.

Feyre’s hand crept over the blankets to Nesta’s. Her sister’s slim fingers wrapped around her own. “Surely they wouldn’t kill their own race?” Feyre said, her voice shaking. Nesta wondered if she, too, was thinking of the discarded limbs and pools of blood. “There were children in that camp. The females didn’t even have weapons…”

But her sister did not understand just how harsh the camps were. Unlike Nesta, Feyre had not lived amongst the widows for months. She did not know just how willing the Illyrian’s might be to offer the widows camp as a sacrifice for the sake of politics.

“I would not put it past Illyrian’s to see widows as a necessary sacrifice,” Rhys admitted eventually after a long, pregnant pause. His violet eyes had softened with grief. “If this is orchestrated by the rebellion, I suspect that by targeting the widows camps Kallon was hoping to fuel the anger amongst the Illyrian’s that they are not protected. That the Night Court does not care for Illyrian’s and offers them no protection. The widows would have been seen as a necessary sacrifice. They are outcasts in Illyrian society with no families to mourn their deaths.”

A ringing sounded in Nesta’s ears. The noise tuned out the room around her. It took her a while to realise that it was fury. It burned. It was not hot, but cold - enough to give her frostbite - as if her magic was not replenished enough to fly but was trying its best to rally itself. Inside of her chest, something cracked. It sounded like bone. With it, came creeping fingers of light, reaching towards her...

With all her strength, Nesta clamped down... until shadows ate away the approaching light and the room righted itself.

When she came to, Cassian was growling low in warning, his wings stretching as far as they could without hitting her square in the face. At who, Nesta did not know. Did not care for his territorial display when there were bigger matters to discuss.

“And why isn’t there protection?” she asked.

Nesta’s words were as cold as the chill in her veins. Rhys stilled, and with it, his magic trembled. The growl was still rumbling from low in Cassian’s chest — deeper even — and he sat forward, bracing his weight onto his thighs as if he were getting ready to launch himself at… someone. Nesta wasn’t sure who.

Feyre was still gripping Nesta’s hand tight, her grip firm enough to hurt. If Nesta had cast a look to her sister’s face, she would have seen that tell-tale glaze over Feyre’s eyes. It was the kind of far off look which told Nesta that her sister was speaking to her mate mind-to-mind. Or trying to, at least.

“Why was there no protection around each of the Illyrian camps given that there had already been two kerit attacks?” Nesta continued, ignoring the rumbling sound that had her heart wanting to beat that little bit faster. “I have seen the protective shields the fae used in war — around your City of Starlight. Why is that courtesy not extended to the Illyrian communities?”

A long, drawn out silence of star-kissed eternal and a whisper of ancient silver.

“I have offered protection numerous times to each of the war lords,” Rhys replied eventually, his voice too measured to be casual. “Each of them have turned it down. They see it as a criticism on their duty as warriors to protect and defend.”

Nesta’s snort was harsh but the hard quality to her eyes did not change. “They are stubborn Illyrian bats. Get them to change their minds. Or are you not their High Lord?”

A flicker of amusement passed across Azriel’s face, his shadows lightening the sharp, beautiful angles of his face. “Nesta is right,” he said, causing everyone to turn. “The war lords don’t have the luxury of turning down our help when it looks as if there will be more kerit attacks. There shouldn’t have been a gap in today’s patrol. Windhaven has always prided itself on its security — all the camps do. Have we found the soldiers who should have been patrolling the perimeter? I think it wise to consider that they may have been compromised by whoever tempted the kerits to the camps. Recruited, even. They could well be the males that flew over the mountain pass.”

“Nobody can find them,” Cassian growled. “We have males out looking for them as we speak. As soon as they are found we will interrogate them.”

“Cassian and I will interrogate,” Rhys told Azriel as a rare flicker of surprise fell across the shadowsinger's expression. “I need you to visit your most trusted contacts in the camps and tell them that we believe the attacks might not be random. We need all eyes and ears to the ground to find out as much as we can, not least to anticipate where the next attack might be.”

A tense nod, but Azriel folded into shadow and disappeared.

Cassian’s fists curled into fists on the tops of his thighs. “We need evidence. We cannot assume this is the rebellion without it.”

“Of course not,” Rhys admitted smoothly. “Which is why we need you to try and snuff out as much information as you can when you and Nesta go to the Solstice luncheon next week. Accept the offer to stay overnight.”

Nesta hadn’t thought Cassian’s expression could turn any stonier, but it did. “No.”

“The more time you spend at Ironcrest, the longer Nesta has to pick up any untoward emotion, especially surrounding conversation about the camps. It gives Frawley time to look and identify the origin of the sword, and it gives you and Lorrian time to pry out any information. Insist on you and Lorrian overseeing the aerial and ground units that next morning, it will ease away any suspicion. A trip there is long overdue but it is time to act on this rather than gathering information, which we have been doing up until now.”

Cassian blew out a long, steadying breath. Then he conceded, “With the Rite meeting been moved forward to that afternoon, it shouldn’t be hard to extend our stay."

Rhys nodded. “Good.” Then his violet eyes rested on Nesta. “You are willing to go with Cassian?”

A raised chin. Defiant. Strong. Despite the pain and exhaustion that wanted to pull her down, down, down. “Yes.”

“Then we have a plan,” Rhys said with another nod. “Azriel will continue to train you. If he is not available, I will travel to the camps and train you myself .”

At the edge of her periphery, Nesta saw Feyre’s eyes widen. In her stomach, Nesta felt Cassian’s surprise, a sensation which grew as Rhys said, “Welcome to the Court of Dreams, Nesta Archeron.”

***

By the time the meeting was over, Nesta was drained; her eyelids unbelievably heavy, her limbs aching. She desperately wanted to sleep, so she took the tincture Feyre brought her without comment and didn’t protest when Cassian carried her back to his bed rather than hers; agony fogged the rational part of her brain.

She was practically asleep as Cassian lay her onto his mattress. She felt his fingers coax hers away from where they were clutching his leathers. Blankets were pulled over her, the weight a comfort. A sedative was dripped into her mouth.

And then she slipped under.

When Nesta next woke, the taste was still bitter in her mouth but the room was dark; the light having receded even from the gap between the curtains.

In the armchair beside her bed was Feyre, her feet curled up beneath her and her freckled nose buried in Love in Velaris. A bobbing faelight hung overhead, willed by her sister’s magic. It illuminated the pages.

From the dent Feyre had made in the book, Nesta guessed she had been asleep for hours. Beyond the room, the bungalow sat still — the way it did when Cassian was not home — as if it too were sleeping, waiting for its owner to come back and breathe life into the rooms with his presence.

A few seconds passed until Feyre noticed that Nesta was awake. It gave Nesta enough time to catalogue the concern etched on her sister’s pale face; the tight expression which made Feyre’s sharp cheekbones even more prominent.

Nesta did not usually see the similarities between them, but now, as Feyre’s serious steel-blue eyes snapped up at the rustle of blankets, Nesta knew why others had said they looked alike.

“You’re awake.” Feyre spoke slowly — unsure — as she unfurled her long, lithe legs. When Nesta winced as she tried to get into a more comfortable position, Feyre jumped up and moved to the dresser. “Here,” she said, pouring some tincture onto a silver spoon.

Nesta hated the way she needed assistance to lift her head, but she allowed Feyre to do it in a rush of pear and lilac. Nesta was not proud enough to deny that she needed the tincture to smooth away the pain. And whilst the pain wasn’t as agonising as hours prior, it was deep-set enough for Nesta to consider whether she could persuade Feyre to allow her to swallow down the whole damn bottle.

After some water to chase down the foul taste, Feyre stepped back. “How are you feeling? Frawley seemed to think she could speed up the healing Madja did, but you were so sick…” Her sister trailed off, setting back to examine Nesta’s face. “You look a little less pale...”

“I’m fine,” Nesta said hoarsely.

Feyre opened her mouth and then closed it again, as if she were contemplating what best to say. The action annoyed Nesta. She wanted to be alone and quiet. To fall back asleep and wake when the pain was gone and she no longer felt helpless.

“Don’t you have duties to attend to?” Nesta asked tiredly, turning her face to bury it into one of the pillows. It was a few seconds reprieve to calm the irritation that had started to hum through her.

Slowly, Nesta breathed in the scent of pine, musk and air that was so fierce Nesta felt as if she were almost a part of it. She had no doubt this was the pillow Cassian rested his head on. The scent soothed her, smoothing over that spiky, dangerous anger of hers to leave bone-lead weariness in its place.

“I wanted to be here,” Feyre told her. There was a subtle stubborn lift to her chin that Nesta knew Feyre had copied from her at a young age so many times that it had now become a part of who she was. “I wanted to look after you. To make sure that you were healing.”

“Well, I don’t need you to take care of me. You heard it yourself, I should be out of bed tomorrow. I just need to sleep.”

Nesta had intended to say it icily, but she was not well enough to muster the strength.

Feyre’s expression tightened, and for a moment, Nesta thought she might snap. But then she just straightened with determination; her tall, lean body rising to a height that called for attention. “Then let me say what I want to say and I will leave you alone.”

A long, stony silence and a blank, impenetrable mask that Nesta hoped with desperation conveyed the message she wanted to snap: Go away.

Instead, Feyre seated herself on the armchair and reached for Nesta’s ice-cold hand. “Nesta,” she started, the word practically a plea. “I know you and I - I know that our relationship has always been rocky. And you are right, there are many things that I hadn’t considered, not least when I sent you here. But… you almost died today and it’s made me realise what is important: I love you. I don’t think I’ve told you that before, but I always have. Even when we were younger and we were both so angry and bitter at our lot in life and we spent our days fighting. And I know you love me, too. Hiring someone to take you to the wall to find me told me that…”

Feyre let out a long, shaky breath and when she next spoke, her voice turned softer, dropping into a confession, “I forgave you and Elain a long time ago for when we were starving, Nesta. I want you to know that. I don’t — we were children. It was father that failed us, not you. I never saw it as your job to care for me and… I’m sorry that you were there when mother asked me to take care of you…. That must have been a horrible thing to overhear and… well, I would have felt resentment towards me, too, if I were you.”

More silence. Nesta would not allow herself to speak for the barbed words she knew would spill forth. About her sister’s mate and how whilst Nesta had tried to make amends, Rhysand’s obvious dislike of her had not disappeared with Feyre’s supposed forgiveness.

“I also want you to know that what you did in the war — you saved hundreds of lives. I know you witnessed unimaginable death and horror, but fae and humans are walking on Prythian because you struck down the male that promised to wreak havoc on our world. You did all of that and I never thought to thank you. And then I was so swept away by my duties as High Lady and recovering from Rhys’s near death that I did not give you the time I should have-”

Such careful tiptoeing around their father’s death. How Nesta had watched the life bleed out of his eyes, until they were nothing but glassy and wholly unconscious.

It was that which made Nesta cut her sister off. Even now, she had no desire to discuss his death. “I am not a burden you need to add to your list of priorities. I didn’t want your help. I explicitly told you to go away and instead you continued to force me to socialise when all I wanted was to be alone.”

Feyre let go of Nesta’s hand. Something akin to loss flashed through Nesta, piercing through the exhaustion and the pain in her abdomen.

“I think communication has always been an issue for us,” Feyre admitted, not backing down from the conversation. “I have spent time thinking over what you have said and you are right, I have not truly listened to you. But I was so scared for your safety I adopted drastic measures—”

“It is not your place to decide what is best for me,” Nesta said coldly. “I am not yours to command. And,” she continued with as much iciness as she could muster, “I do not think that an Illyrian camp is a place of safety.”

A deliberate pause to highlight how she were in bed suffering from major injuries.

“I thought if you were with Cassian that you would be protected,” Feyre said, her expression anguished. “I thought if anyone were to hold their own in an Illyrian camp it would be you. You are so strong, Nesta—”

“You thought a fae male could protect me when the protection I was promised by males has failed over and over again?” Nesta countered. “He is not even here all of the time. Sometimes he is away for days on end and I am left alone. You banished me to this awful place in front of an audience with no care for my feelings.”

But as Nesta spoke, something scrabbled in the back of her mind. Because it wasn’t fair to criticise Cassian for both leaving her and crowding her. Because Cassian had given her space and yet he had also been there, on the periphery if not right in front of her. Taunting her and encouraging her, but with so much space to grow. He had not made her train with him, dragging her spitting and screaming into the sparring ring. He had not thrown her out into the camp each morning and forced her to work or make friends. He had given her choices that she had more often than not denied over and over. And when she had done that, he had bought her more books or figured out the foods she liked to make the days a little less boring.

Cassian had not just protected her but allowed her to grow stronger. Had given her the space to decide for once in her life what she wanted to do and what she wanted to be. True, she might have been stuck in Windhaven, but she had never felt truly trapped. The skies made her feel unencumbered. The mud beneath her feet rendered her a part of nature rather than apart from it. The craggy mountains were a physical depiction of how Nesta was starting to see herself; sharp and angry but resilient and strong.

Outside the bungalow, Nesta heard the unmistakable crunch of boots in the snow. The low murmur of male voices floated through the bedroom window, which had been cracked open to circulate the stale air.

Feyre’s face crumpled in sudden irritation, and Nesta guessed that her mate had tried to speak mind-to-mind with her mid-conversation. From the way Feyre’s expression quickly cleared, Nesta got the impression she had banished Rhys completely or told him to go away.

The click of the magical lock from the front door rang through the bungalow, but Feyre’s attention was only on her. “Adjusting to the role of High Lady has been… a struggle,” her sister admitted. “Cassian, Rhys, Amren and Mor are my friends as well as my trusted advisors. But you are right, I spoke to you as a High Lady not as a sister when I told you to come here. I thought that using my new status would make you listen because my role as a sister had failed. It was a last resort and I knew… I knew that Cassian would look after you.”

Feyre stared up at the ceiling, as if the memory caused her pain. “As soon as you left I knew the way I had summoned you was wrong.” Feyre looked back to Nesta and sincerity swam in her eyes. “I did not consider that I had imprisoned you. I was selfishly only thinking of forcing you to be well.”

More silence.

Feyre got to her feet, her expression pained.

She waved a hand to the window, gesturing to the scenery outside. To the craggy mountains that stretched for miles and the sea beyond it. To the world that existed beyond Illyria. Beyond Prythian. “When you are healed, if you wish to leave Illyria you can. I don’t want you to feel imprisoned any longer.”

There was a finality to the words that rang true. Her sister meant them, even if it was obvious they caused her pain. Yet… Nesta did not want to leave. Not now, not when she had promised to attend the Solstice luncheon to see what they could discover about the sword and the kerit attacks. Not when the females here were so vulnerable. Now when they needed help rebuilding their community — to mourn for the losses that Nesta had vowed would not go unnoticed.

“I said I’d help, didn’t I?”

Feyre halted at the door.

“And your help is invaluable,” Feyre said slowly, “but you are not obligated to do it. So if you wish to leave, you can. Just… please tell someone before you do and let us know where you are going.”

Feyre looked weary and Nesta wondered if she had even bathed since everything that had happened. Her body was clean like Nesta’s… but her leathers were crumpled and her hair dishevelled. Nesta’s own body felt like it was covered in a film of oil and invisible dirt. Her skin itched at the thought and she longed for a bath, even though she knew she would not be able to manage it without more rest.

When Nesta closed her eyes, Feyre’s blood-streaked face swam into view. She remembered how Feyre had gripped her hand in the midst of battle and told Nesta to lead the way to the Eastern side of the camp, even though they were in the thick of danger. Her sister had not hesitated or balked. She had only been fierce and unwaveringly brave, ready to put her life on the line for those who needed protection.

For all of their problems, when the two of them had been fighting side by side, it was the first time that Nesta felt as if she truly belonged with her sister. For a brief moment in time, their issues and past mistakes had bled away, as if they were inconsequential.

“I’d love for us to start afresh,” Feyre continued quietly from her place at the door. “We have both made errors, but I do not care about yours. I hope that with time you might be able to forgive me, and if you do, I’d like to start over, you and I, with a blank slate.”

Tags:

@arin1030 @superspiritfestival @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @mylittlebigplanet @biggestwingspan-az @bellsqueen @ekaterinakostrova @bookstantrash @prophecyerised @rainbowcheetah512 @awesomelena555 @wannawriteyouabook @iammissstark @hatemecozuaintme @lovelynesta @melphss @nestalytical @nestable @darkshadowqueensrule @laylaameer01 @a-trifling-matter @grouchycritic7794 @thalia-2-rose @champanheandluxxury @swankii-art-teacher @princessconsuela02 @lavendergoomsltd @little-diyosa @princessofmerchants-reads @sjm-things

#nessian #nessian angst #nessianfic #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #nestafic #cassianfic #cassian #acosf #acofas #acowar #acomaf #acotar #embersandlightfic

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toukenramblings · 3 years

Text

Nightmares: Yagen Toushirou, Fudou Yukimitsu, Taikogane Sadamune

This is actually very interesting, digging into Sada-chan’s mind like this.

Warnings: Suicide, burns, blood, bodily harm, trauma because Yagen and Fudou have so much. Sada-chan being a sad baby pls hug all of the tantous.

Yagen Toushirou

Yagen’s dreams are full of fire. They’re not of him burning like Honebami’s, but more so of the burning of people he cares for, the people he tries to protect the most. Ichigo, brothers, friends, you his master. Watching them waste away in a fire and there is nothing he can do to save them.

Oh but the ones that hurt Yagen the most are when he can feel himself cutting open the stomach of someone he is meant to protect, organs and blood spilling out on to the ground below. Nobunaga had done so with him once. Gods forbid himself from hurting another like that.

Honnouji haunts him yes, of course it would. The fires, the screams, the pain, the sorrow, the lives he had to end. He awakens with a silent scream whenever that happens, tears budding at the corner of his eyes. He would like to wake up his brother but he is asleep, he won’t want to disturb him.

Then there are the nightmares that center around you, his master. If you and Yagen are particularly close during this time, he imagines himself driving his own blade into your form. His hands against yours, almost leading you into doing the dastardly deed. It is when he is waking up from that nightmare does he come to visit you, making sure that you are alive and breathing. He doesn’t mean to wake you if it happens, but when you do, Yagen will hesitate for a moment.

“Can...I come in?” he would question, and when you do, you two sit in silence for a moment. Yagen doesn’t know what to say, his lips tightened into a straight line, fangs chewing on his lower lip. You can see the bags under his eyes and when you ask what is wrong, it takes a moment for him to answer. “Nightmare.” his words are soft and simple. He won’t ask for much comfort, but your presence is good enough. Maybe he’ll hold your hand and feel your pulse, to confirm that you’re alive. Maybe he doesn’t need words to tell you what is going on through is mind, perhaps a touch is enough.

Maybe in the morning and in the following days, he’ll hesitate to touch you. Maybe he’ll keep an eye out for you, almost terrified whenever something sharp was in your line or vision. Yagen will watch you like a hawk but he wouldn’t want to overstep his boundaries. You know that he is doing this because of his nightmare and when you two talk it out, it’ll be fine in the end. He’ll worry but he knows you can take care of yourself.

Alternatively, Yagen will take a walk to clear his mind. Sometimes he will talk with Ichi-nii, telling him of his worries and his fears. Of his hands against the hilt of his own blade, dragging it oh so slow across the skin of his family, as they scream in horror and terror.

His shoulders will shake, tears held back, Ichi-nii or one of his other brothers will hold him close, running a hand through is hair and telling him it’s okay to cry.

His sobs are soft as he is, quiet as the morning dew. Shoulders shaking, his heart stopping for a moment. He lets out his cries, his shudders, his fears, hoping that they will be lighter.

Yagen will be fine in the end, sure the nightmares are just that. Nightmares. They won’t hurt him, they are not physical beings that could rend him apart. But it does not change the fact even he fears them.

Fudou Yukimitsu

Fudou doesn’t know if the alcohol he drinks helps bring on the damn things or makes them go away or whatever the hell. He just knows that whenever those damn nightmares come, he wakes up with the most horrendous of screams in his solo room, the scent of alcohol replacing the scent of burning flesh and wood. He’ll immediately reach for the bottle again, hoping to drown out his worries and sorrows.

It’s a cycle. Drinking to forget the nightmares and day-mares that haunt him, of the failure that he is. Those screams and the patronizing chide of Hasebe or other swords, it eats away at him.

If you and Fudou are close, he will wander his way into your room or office, reeking of alcohol but for once not at all super drunk? His head is pounding as you look him in the eyes, red and puffy from crying. Fudou doesn’t know why the hell he’s here, but he just wanted someone to...talk to?

He collapses in front of you, tears fully falling down his face now. It’s heart wrenching to say the least. It’s ugly sobbing, loud and snot everywhere. He clings on to you, to the point fabric may rip. THe only thing you can do right now is to hug his shaking body, rub circles into his back and shush him, comfort him as best as you can. He doesn’t know where to go, who to turn to. Sure Odagumi are an idea but if you two are close, the first person he thinks of is you.

Fudou would begin to apologize once he had calmed down, apologizing for being so weak, so useless of a sword to you. He would say those through his tears, laughing at himself and his shortcomings. You have to gently wipe them away, assuring him that those are not true. Fudou is Fudou, he is not and will never be useless.

If Fudou does not go to you, the first thing that comes to his mind is the rest of the Odagumi. He’ll stumble into one of their rooms (most likely Hasebe as he has a solo room and he doesn’t wanna disturb the rest of the Toushirous and Samonjis) and will wake him up, sobbing all the while. Hasebe will freeze for a moment, before bringing Fudou into a strange sideways hug.

Fudou doesn’t know how long he can keep this up. These nightmares of a fire, or of failing the people around him. He wants to be stronger because of this, it hurts him so much that he wants to shrivel up and die like Nobunaga had. A part of him wants to join them, to throw himself into a fire and be with the master he loves - unable to ever return the favor.

The next morning, Fudou is a lot more quiet than normal. If you two are close, Fudou will be almost rivaling Hasebe in staying by your side. Yes Fudou will still be drinking to chase away the nightmares but it’s not as much as he normally drinks. HAsebe will find it odd that Fudou is hovering around you, silently yes, and somewhat still at a distance but Fudou is watching out for you more and he cannot complain.

Fudou will talk about his nightmares to you, or Hasebe, or whomever, but they’re jumbled through is sobs and cries. Give him a minute to compose himself, he’ll be alright in the end but patience is key.

When Fudou has had enough of these damn nightmares, the first thing he will do is barge into your office, a confident yet terrified sort of look on his face, courage in his eyes. “Uh.... Well... You'see, there's something....” pls cherish him im so proud of my baby boi

Taikogane Sadamune

Sada-chan’s nightmares don’t come as often as like Yagen or Fudou. While those two will have them much more frequently, and they are beyond violent, Sada-chan’s creep up on him. They start off fine and then creep into unsettling and terrifying. Yes Sada-chan does wake up with a start and sometimes a scream, with tears streaming down his eyes, but he won’t hesitate to seek someone out.

Like Yagen, he will try not to disturb the rest of the Dategumi sleeping in his room. If you and Taikogane are close during this time, he won’t hesitate to see you out, running into your room or office where you are, knocking on the door - quiet and reserved, different from the norm. When he does enter the room, there is a forced smile to his lips, big and proud - yet not reaching his eyes.

He will plop himself down beside you, silent for a moment, unable to look you in the eye before leaning against you. He will begin shaking lightly during this time, trying to keep his tears in, it won’t look cool if he starts to cry! “Master...am I annoying?”

One of Taikogane’s biggest fears (other than to be forgotten like Micchan) is more or less being a burden to everyone. He is hyper-active, a showstopper, proud of himself, but sometimes he wonder if that’s too much for the people around him. Yes he fears the rest of the Dategumi dying or hurt but Gods forbid the dreams where he thinks everyone hates him. Perhaps it’s a childish fear, but he cannot help but worry about it.

Hug him during this time, gently assure him that you love him dearly (platonic or familial) soothe his worries as much as you can dear Saniwa.

If Sada-chan does end up waking the Dategumi from his screams, they jolt awake immediately. It is Micchan is is awake first then Tsurumaru with Ookurikara very close behind. They will ask what is wrong and though Taikogane will try to play it off, smiling all the while - it is Tsurumaru who brings Sada-chan into his arms first. In a way, they all take turns hugging the boy, calming him down. Kara-chan will give him soft sideways hugs, no teasing for Kuri today, Taikogane more importante.

Those dreams where everyone leaves him, tells him to his face that he should not be here, or snide comments, they hurt Sada-chan’s pride. He can only bounce back so much after all. His energy is finite despite how boundlessly adorably bouncing he is. He worries that he may be forgotten like Micchan one day, but he worries the most about if he’s annoying or not.

Those are the nights when each of the Dategumi will also take turns cuddling him, rocking him to sleep. Most of the time the duty falls on to Micchan and Tsurumaru, sometimes Ookurikara will do so in his own way - taking Sada-chan out for a walk to clear his eyes and give him some choice words about his worries.

In the morning after and maybe a couple of days after that, Taikogane will be much more subdued. He will be a lil bit more quiet than normal, preferring to stay near you or the Dategumi instead of interacting with everyone else.

But slowly does Sada-chan come outta his shell, the boundless energy he’s known for coming back. He’s doing his best because of the people he loves and the people that love him back!

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loyally-unfaithful · 4 years

Text

desolation!au (lunatic!kaede au)

summary: in canon, kotetsu manages to restore barnaby's memory at the last second, but what if it didn't work? what if kaede ex machina never got the chance to save her father at the top of the apollon media tower and restore the other heroes' memories? in fact, what if she never knew they were being brainwashed in the first place?what if kotetsu died that day?

basically me developing my idea of an au where, consumed by anger and grief, kaede seeks lunatic to help her in carrying her revenge and murdering her father's killer.

illustration of lunatic!kaede is attached at the very end of the fic :3

a/n: tbh, i was watching tiger & bunny w/ my friends and at some point i thought about kaede being lunatic's student because i just want to see her start shit and it wasn't anything much at first, just small headcanons here and little doodles there. but then idk , i made a little sketch and it all snowballed from there.

i ended up developing this au and have become quite invested in it.

i’m aware the format looks like cat shit on mobile, im sorry. if it’s super disruptive to the reading experience, feel free to refer to the ao3 version (links are in my desc).

alternate names lmao

lunatic!kaede! au

cats-on-the-moon!au

revenge girl!au

revenge-girl-out-for-revenge!au

vendetta! au

synopsis

follows the same storyline up until the memory loss arc, where the au experiences a massive canon divergence.

kotetsu receives a chance to escape after being aided by lunatic, and, not letting his unsuccessful attempt at making his friends remember his true identity deter him, he gathered them at the top of the apollon media tower. he tries again to make them remember that he is wild tiger, and not a murderer, but much like in canon the rest of the group do not believe him—though some falter briefly. unlike canon, however, is that kaede ex machina does not appear in time to unleash maverick’s next power that she copied to restore everyone’s memories.

she does make an attempt to reach the tower where her father is taking a stand, but she does not encounter maverick and on her way up the roof the elevator stops—as it should during emergencies... without her interference, the rest of the hero team overpower kotetsu who is smashed through the roof and lands into saito’s lab. realising that the latter doesn’t remember who he was either, kotetsu quickly grabs his suit and motorbike to try to escape and regroup with ben. the rest of the heroes rush to go after him, though some (blue rose, etc) are more hesitant than others (rock bison, etc). on the way down they [the heroes] find kaede and become preoccupied with her. they’re experiencing an emergency but the child refuses to leave, so some of the heroes have their hands full handling her.

during this, the cameras continue to follow kotetsu. in the end, barnaby pursues kotetsu on his own vehicle and they fight at the bridge where they first teamed up. kaede can follow what is currently happening as the event is broadcasted and grows increasingly hysterical, screaming that she needs to be there and that they’re [blue rose, sky high, etc] supposed to be helping her dad, not pursue him. at some point before the final blow, the feed cuts—the camera probably got hit by chunks of armour or other sort of debris.

the fight follows canon up until barnaby intends on delivering the final kick

« so this is it, eh? take care lil’ bunny…»

this time, the kick connects.

at this point kaede is inconsolable, not being able to handle the fact that the broadcast cut and she can’t check her father’s condition in real time anymore. the heroes’ attempt at getting her to speak or to tell them who her guardian is is met with choked sobs and no response.

there’s two way i see her finding out about her father’s defeat, and subsequent death:

the least traumatic, but still traumatic option: the feed was the last time she ever saw her father. the heroes only hear that « the criminal has been captured/dealt with by barnaby » on their private channel so they slowly excuse themselves and disperse, leaving kaede alone. some of the security guards approach her, trying to get a number to contact but eventually learn that she wasn’t speaking and let her sit there for a bit before calling the authorities.

the intensely traumatic “whoa you ruined a perfectly good 10-11 year old” option: as kaede grows increasingly distressed and the heroes try to keep her under control, she sees members of staff trying to cart something off discreetly. she gets a quick glance on what is being carried and recognises the hand poking out under the large tarp covering the rest of the body. it had her father’s wedding band, which he continued to wear, and upon realising what had happened, she immediately goes catatonic and wouldn’t react to the heroes anymore.

she either sits in the empty building until very late at night, sits outside on the bus stop with no intention of getting on simply watching the last of the buses disappear in the horizon, or waits at the police station with no intention of telling them who to call.

she eventually reaches the conclusion that her father will probably never come back as he died on her own and breaks down.

much like option 1) she sits in the empty building, waiting for someone who will never return.

in both options, ben ex machina (yes kaede got demoted in this au im sorry) finds her and explains to her that he was her father’s boss. this gained her attention somewhat, and she let him drive her back home after he told her that her grandmother has been frantically contacting ben after realising that kaede wouldn’t pick up.

during all this, she remains silent and out of it, still not fully accepting that her father wasn’t coming back home: kaede knows it’s no use to wait for her father anymore, but doesn’t outwardly admit the fact just in case he really is alive. she knows she’s just lying to herself.

on their way back to the kaburagi home, ben explains to her that he tried to get on that bridge as fast as possible to intercept the two, but only arrived after barnaby had left the scene. he doesn’t go into much detail, but does give her the few things he had found and recognised was kotetsu’s:

the tiger emblem that he kept this whole time

the two matching christmas pins that (unknowingly to both ben and kaede) he shared with his former partner

the first sound kaede makes in a long time is more wracking sobs as she clutches the small objects.

she passes out sometimes during transit, and wakes up the next afternoon in her room, the memorabilia safe in her pocket.

the next day, hero tv, and the organisations that funds it, refuses to make an official statement on kotetsu’s whereabouts after being intercepted by barnaby—they know that the latter murdered kotetsu, but they avoid the question in order to save his and the company’s reputation. they would answer something like:

kotetsu running away

being imprisoned for 250 years, with no visitors.

accidentally got himself killed

for the most part, the general populace accepted this outcome and thanked the diligent work of the heroes, but kaede and her family know better. kotetsu wasn’t the type to just leave, and he wouldn’t have committed murder in the first place. this official statement further cemented the fact that kotetsu had died—been killed. within sternbild, another powerful figure also doubted the credibility of the statement. yuri would literally see the red flags, but the situation really isn’t in his favour and he doesn’t know where to even tackle this. he’d need to do more digging up before planning out his attack.

kaede concludes (correctly) that barnaby was behind her father’s death, and possessed with anger and hatred, decided that she will get revenge one way or another and prove her father’s innocence.

basic plot

headcanon form now, because it’s more convenient.

the lead-up:

during the few days/weeks that followed, she barely went out of her room unless necessary.

she barely ate, even ignoring the flan pudding she adored so much.

in her self-imposed isolation, she marinates in her own grief, which turns into anger and hatred.

at first she regrets not having spent more time with her father and reaching out to him, instead of expecting kotetsu to do that for her.

but the focus slowly shifts to wanting to make kotetsu’s murderer suffer as he has made her dad suffer.

you know what, throw in the rest of the heroes.

they should’ve been kotetsu’s friend and believed him instead of pursuing him relentlessly: they’re complicit too and should be punished accordingly.

it’s important to note that, since kaede didn’t interact with maverick and inherit his next power, she doesn’t know that the heroes have been brainwashed.

she just thinks that they’re secretly an evil group posing to be heroes.

she loses faith in them, and their flawed justice that got her father killed

she wants to avenge her father and prove his innocence so badly, but doesn’t know how or where to begin. the odds are stacked against her, since only her family and a few people here and there believe in kotetsu’s innocence.

while she’s holed up in her room, she mindlessly replays the video clips that featured her dad over and over again until she memorised every single word and committed her father’s movements to memory.

one day, as she flips through the different collectibles and magazines that featured him, she came across one such issue which showcased a different type of “hero”: the sanctioner with blue flames.

the vigilante who’s idea of justice was becoming more and more appealing to kaede the more she thought about it.

she’s seen the clips, how his next power allowed him to continually keep up with the 100 power duo. how it always allowed him to have the upper hand and to deliver his justice.

kaede wants that kind of strength, that kind of power, to avenge her father.

she resolves herself to find or contact the vigilante no matter how, though that seemed to be a complicated enough task in and of itself.

kaede figures that when she does find him, she’ll either get him to work with her to get her revenge or copy his power if he refuses.

her searches prove more or less fruitless tho since lunatic can't be found when he doesn't want to be found lmao

after a few weeks/months, she grows disheartened and becomes rather depressed again.

the actual encounter:

i don’t have an actually have a concrete idea on how they met and how kaede convinced yuri to work with her, just a bunch of possibilities going from plausible to straight up crack

one way she could meet him is by bumping into judge petrov when she’s tagging along with her fam to try and claim kotetsu’s body.

the intent was to go to sternbild to recover kotetsu so that they can bury him in the family grave (and rejoin tomoe), but since the city refuses to acknowledge that kotetsu is dead and admit that a hero killed a person, the kaburagi fam can’t get his body back.

very sad times, maybe after the unsuccessful hearing kaede cries and rlly begs to be able to get her father back, and grabs hold of yuri to make her point come across or something.

do you even see a judge when you try to claim a criminal’s body? idk it’s probably illegal to make physical contact w a judge but kaede is only bby so maybe she won't go to jail? i don’t know i’m dum

anyway, he’d probably carefully peel the child off of him and say something vaguely sympathetic before going wherever the hell judges go after trial? court? i know nothing about the legal system and it shows

uh oh skin to skin contact

kaede unwittingly copies his power and moves on with her day. it wasn’t until she came home and felt a burst of anger that she noticed that??? she can summon blue flames??? like lunatic does??? except she doesn’t recall meeting him at all???

she puts two and two together and susses yuri out

or instead of literally harassing him in court

maybe she just stumbles on lunatic because his favourite hobbies are standing ominously on roofs and killing murderers, in that order.

kaede: why is there a funny looking scarecrow on the roof…???

kaede: hoLY HECK

how she manages to get lunatic on her side is more convoluted

one way would be her going back to the city and confronting yuri about it. of course, he’d deny her claim until she gets angry enough and her eyes light up.

yuri’s like “oh sHIT”.

she could threaten him by saying that if he won’t help her then she will just seek her revenge by herself.

yuri doesn’t want her to do anything rash and cause him to get in hot water because he rlly doesn't want to deal w/ the aftermath. also he doesn’t want to like, see a whole child get hurt :(

so i guess he’s like, “this is my lot in life now”, and accepts to take her as his apprentice so long as she doesn’t cause any trouble

that was the peaceful route

kaede could also fight fire with fire

just hound down lunatic instead of yuri and when she finds him it’s on sight. chuck a whole fireball to catch his attention and demand that he takes her as his apprentice. idk maybe threaten to fight him mono e mono unless he complies.

lunatic would probably just ghost her lmao

but she’d continue to show up whenever he’s raring to kill a murderer so maybe he’ll accept because it’s getting more disruptive if he doesn’t

if anything, her persistence would impress him somewhat: she’s determined, and even when she’s only had the flames for like, what? 3 days? she can already control it well enough to shoot projectiles. she has potential and would be a helpful ally instead of burdening him.

the chaotic crackhead route is for kaede to somehow get her hands on yuri’s address and bully him until he listens to her

just show up outside his room at 3 am, eyes glowing, floating 3 feet from the ground. hell, t-pose outside his window.

terrorise him.

she’d play loud music or shout at him day in day out

she may even follow him to work and just pester him

constantly asking him to mentor her so she can have her revenge, poking and prodding about his secret night job as lunatic

kaede will leave mama petrov alone this doesn’t concern her

her beef isn’t w mama petrov

ever since that encounter, yuri has not known peace

yuri has 2 ghosts to deal with

that’s 2 too many

he’s gonna take one out

the minimum age of criminal responsibility in japan is 14, while in new york it’s 18 (thanks google)

take your pick

kaede is 10-11

so either way yuri can’t take her to jail for harassment

she’s coming out of this scott free

he snaps and literally begs her to stfu if he follows her wish :b:lease

he hasn’t slept for 34 days

regardless, kaede will come out victorious and yuri is now stuck with a child

on a more serious note, yuri’s and kaede’s agenda are the same and it just so happens that their goals align. he has been suss since day one ever since the kotetsu debacle.

in hindsight maverick really should’ve brainwashed the only judge, the person in charge of the justice bureau, the curator who has access to the hero’s files

maybe i’m jumping to conclusion

for all i know maybe maverick also attempted to invite yuri to that announcement “party” thing

but yuri was like

« no ? fuck off »

and went on his way

yuri wants to look oddly menacing in his basement dungeon thing

and maverick brushed it off because he didn’t think yuri was lunatic, or a next one the first place

we know that yuri learns that maverick is behind all of this and is probably a next on his own, but decides against taking action. i suppose in canon because he knows it’s not his battle to see through, but in the au maybe because he knows he’s fighting a losing battle. also he kinda injured his arm after being shot by H-01, so he doesn’t want to fight with a handicap.

he doesn’t want to take any rash action and cause more problems for himself.

potentially putting his whole secret identity scheme in jeopardy.

he chooses to take a moment to regroup and plan his actual attack. he couldn’t take on 7 heroes and 1 android at once, and risk getting brainwashed too.

at first, even if working together seem to only benefit kaede, the situation also gives yuri some strategic advantages.

like once he finds out that kaede’s power is a mimic ability, not the flame ability. i feel like he’d find that hella useful

also kaede is a child who’s also basically a nobody in sternbild. she can infiltrate spaces he can’t, and not raise any suspicion.

possible denouements:

i see 3 major endings possible, with secondary endings which is just a one of the 3 major endings with some slight changes:

1. all sinners must die ending

pretty self explanatory. kaede gets her revenge: with the help of lunatic she kills barnaby and maverick, potentially killing or maiming the rest of the heroes. her father has been avenged, but the city is more or less in a panic because there are no more heroes to protect them. “faith” in the vigilante, or at least in kaede, plummets because they attacked “innocent” people. it’s possible that she brings her father’s framing to light (but not that the heroes were brainwashed), though it’s doubtful that she gets the chance after causing such an uproar.

kaede probably never learns the truth: that the heroes were brainwashed.

this may or may not leave kaede incredibly bitter and nihilistic, as even though she got her revenge she doesn’t feel any satisfaction or sense of closure. she doesn’t get any form of catharsis and probably still has a difficult time moving on and coping with her grief. the city of sternbild adopts a very cold atmosphere and regains a strong distrust towards nexts, kaede may or may not continue to be a vigilante as she’s still trapped in grief limbo, yuri has to deal with the messy aftermath.

overall, it’s probably the worst possible ending.

of schemes and double agents ending

a kinda slow burn route, i suppose? in this ending, kaede realises that the heroes are being manipulated unlike in the previous one. she decides to restore the hero’s memories one by one and getting them to secretly help her. i don’t think she could recruit everyone, but i’m thinking about those like blue rose, who seemed to remember somewhat after kotetsu’s speech thing. kaede could slowly remind them, and despite initial mistrust and animosity they would come round and realise there was a huge discrepancy in their memory.

outright rebelling against maverick would be rash and the heroes risk being brainwashed once more, so they figure they would pull the strings somewhat and provide kaede/lunatic with internal knowledge to help them.

in the epic showdownTM, when the heroes and kaede finally have a face off, barnaby (and those who weren’t approached by kaede) would experience quite a curveball: those who regained their memories would side with kaede.

safety in solitude ending

in this ending, kaede works alone (with lunatic) without having recruited the other heroes even after realising they’ve been brainwashed. perhaps because it’d be too risky just in case they get brainwashed again or that they don’t agree with the vigilante’s idea and rat them out, whatever the reason may be the duo works alone.

this will lead into an even more epic showdownTM where it’s 2 v. 8: even though the stakes are not in the duo’s favour they somehow manage to come triumphant? or maybe the heroes regain their memories one by one and decide to stop fighting, even though they don’t exactly join the duo’s side.

constants:

maverick dies. lunatic kills him. i doubt many are against the idea though.

barnaby’s memories would be the last one she “restores”: (courtesy of my friend) it would probably go something like, in a burst of anger she jumps him and gets his hundred power. as she punches at him, she tearfully confronts him about how her father must’ve felt in his last moments and how much kotetsu seemed to adore him back when he was alive.

if bunny dies (ending 2/ending 3) kaede would not feel as angry and cynical, but more regretful or grievous. she’d probably stop using her next powers to do much anything (instead of continuing to be a vigilante like in ending 1). she’ll move on eventually, with more than less difficulty. the city of sternbild is on edge, but continue to place their faith on heroes.

if bunny lives (ending 2/ending 3), kaede would get a stronger sense of closure as she would be able to dialogue with bunny. barnaby would however, feel unending grief once he realises what he has done.

regardless if bunny is dead or not, the truth is revealed to the general public along with maverick’s scheme and true intent in ending 2 and 3. so basically canon episode 25 ending except more angst and kotetsu is dead a while ago

not a constant… but it’s possible that because of lunatic’s whole code being “kill murderers and those who protect them” he’d be displeased with kaede choosing to spare bunny. maybe he’s the last boss… kaede and bunny defeat lunatic with 100 power, much like barnaby used to do with kotetsu?... nah that’s too messy and honestly i prefer lunatic and kaede to remain on peaceful terms lmao

lunatic’s satisfied with killing maverick, he’ll back off of this one—barnaby was manipulated anyway. so technically... it wasn’t his conscious decision nor his fault???

basically i don’t want kaede to fight her mentor figure, but i’m merely acknowledging the possibility.

actually…

maybe he walks up towards barnaby, the other heroes too beat up to do anything but watch while kaede remains by barnaby’s side

and lunatic just stands ominously in front of bunny, looking like he’s about to shoot him

but then he turns away

« hmph, how ridiculous. repent for the rest of your life, barnaby brooks jr. »

and then lunatic disappears in a flash, leaving a singed mark—the only proof that he had stood there.

heck, remember how she recovered the christmas pins? she could chuck those angrily at barnaby’s general direction to put emphasis.

kaede knows she’ll never be able to bring her father back, but she’d manage her grief easier. if barnaby lives, kaede would probably become a hero to honor her father and to use her power for good as her father would’ve wanted her to do.

miscellaneous

headcanons in no particular order, certainly not chronological. crack, fluff, angst, just whatever comes to mind. for ease of reading, i will try to organise them thematically.

relationships

tiger x bunny

rest in peace king, you will be missed.

kotetsu ded so the gay cannot be, rip in species.

but i’m putting this here because prior to the brainwashing they do be kinda gay tho, and even if kaede doesn’t know the exact nature of the relationship between the two she knows that her father was very fond of barnaby and cared for him deeply.

lunatic | yuri petrov & kaede

this au is pretty lunatic & kaede centric, because well,,, kotetsu kicked the bucket, and barnaby and the heroes are considered the villains here

i see lunatic and kaede having a mentor-student kind of relationship, that can be fluffy sometimes a found family trope could eventually be established, but that’s super delicate

on another note, if you really want to fuck up your 11 year old because you absolutely want to give kaede the worst possible outcomes for some reason, she could—as a young child who has lost both her parents at a very young age—develop an unhealthy dependence on this [lunatic] new authority figure. she might incorrectly interpret his concern for familial care, etc… but i’m not even going there, that’s too messy.

tbh the real tragedy would be kaede imprinting on yuri’s garbage sense of fashion… the secret to dressing well died with kotetsu.

idk if i should explicit this, but just in case: this is not a romantic ship please don’t come for my throat. literally this au was created because i wanted to see kaede start shit—just go absolutely feral and start chaos lmao

i would like snapshots of him teaching her how to control the flames better but also look out for her general well being because this kid has issues. basically give me a montage of yuri mentoring kaede and slowly becoming fond of her or give me death:

lunatic probably made his own costume so? i’d like to imagine yuri takes the time to make one for kaede too?? also he makes sure it wooshes cool in the wind and idk, flammable enough to allow her to burn the cape off before she attacks???

just yuri hand sewing some apparels for kaede uwu

also give me vaguely domestic yuri or give me death

also mayhaps, gives kaede affirming headpats?

like if she performs well and her mastery over her powers improves in leaps and bounds? or when she finally unlocks a skill she’s been struggling with for a bit?? just a proud head pat and a well-intentioned-but-cold-sounding « well done »???

maybe when kaede first actually learns how to use her powers, her emotions might get the best of her or maybe she’s plain nervous because fire = danger and scary.

and it shows because the flames grow more erratic and out of her control, and yuri grows very concerned for her well being because he doesn’t want her to get burnt like he did when he first awakened his power.

before it all degenerates, he helps calm her down and prevent his house from burning down. or wherever he goes to when he’s doing lunatic stuff…

a dungeon ?

his basement ?

my basement don’t look like that

we know where all the judge money is going: renovating the basement

much like her mentor, when she gets rlly angry her eyes burst into flames. to prevent her from getting into trouble by accidentally activating her power and injuring someone or simply revealing her identity, yuri would teach her grounding exercises or anchoring phrases that he himself uses.

idk just teach her breathing techniques to ease her anxiety or a mantra to recite if she feels like she’s gonna set someone on fire

also idk if i should give kaede a different weapon from lunatic (i know i will because the crossbow is lunatic’s aesthetic, and his only), but i like to imagine yuri teaching her how to shoot crossbows and her becoming oddly proficient at it

grandma kaburagi wondering why kaede has wicked aim all of the sudden

tbh kaede would just shoot w her hands. just pew pew finger.

or she does the kamehameha thing she did w blue rose’s power lmao

at first he kinda sees being responsible for her as a bit of a chore and annoying, but maybe he slowly grows fond of her and idk, dotes on her.

protecc the bby

help her do her homework

« i’ve only had kaede for a day and a half. but if anything happened to her, i would kill everyone in this room and then myself. »

on the flipside, at first kaede thought that yuri is hecking weird, man. just creepy suspicious prosecutor dude who she allies with because revenge girl rlly wants revenge

but he grows on her and kaede thinks he’s not so bad after all. an good authority figure whom she respects and cares for

she still probably thinks he’s hella weird tho

kinda weird but also sometimes kinda cool

eccentric but like in a good way

like your weird neighbour henry who means well despite what he says sometimes

kaede would learn his corny cool catchphrases and repeat them when she’s out and about as a vigilante.

just adopt/mimic his speech pattern of saying things slowly for more oomph

gotta do the whole code of justice and thanatos speech before she bombards barnaby with flaming arrows

yuri feels oddly proud

they’re both probably hella protective over each other tho. because that’s just kaede’s personality and yuri feels responsible for the safety of this child that he has been entrusted with.

children love sweets right? yuri secretly likes sweets. they can share sweets after setting murderers on fire uwu

idk man i just want some good mentor-apprentice relationship

it doesn’t have to always be angst

we can have fluff

maybe they can learn from each other and be semi-functional human beings

that thing where the apprentice’s outfit is like directly taken from their mentor’s but also vaguely different. i want that.

sometimes the real revenge is the friends you make along the way uwu

school + domestic life

ok so like

kaede gets big depressed because duh your dad just got murdered by his partner

and she rlly misses him and wished she was more understanding back then. she wished she spent more time w him back when he was alive

but it’s too late now and that makes her big depressed

so i feel like for the first few weeks/months after her father’s death, kaede wouldn’t go to school?? and i feel like her grandmother would understand and just like

not pester her about it and let her sort out her emotions first before talking to kaede about the elephant in the room

but also like, the school board also agrees to wait it out because the parents are kinda iffy about what has transpired

to be fair, oriental town is probably one of those small towns where everyone knows each other? so the parents/adults who know kotetsu are like??? kotetsu wouldn’t kill a person??

but the children who are more connected to the media and don’t know him personally believe that kotetsu murdered someone and deserved to be “arrested”? because why would you doubt hero tv and the heroes, they’re the good guys after all.

so when kaede found it within herself to finally go back to school, she has a rude awakening and learns that words travel fast in a small community

the other kids, not knowing any better, believed that kotetsu is a criminal w their whole chest and started all kinds of rumours on kaede

when she went to class she was greeted w her desk being pushed far away from the rest of the class, the other students steering clear from her

all sorts of nasty things were carved/marked with a sharpie on her locker and table—some others stuck paper with w the word “murderer” on it

kaede lost most of her friends and the rest of the classmates avoided her like the plague as they say vile things about her and her father

« look she’s back »

they don’t even try to hide the fact or bother to mask their voice and speak in a hushed whisper.

« they said her father killed someone, who knows what she could do »

so kaede hears everything.

« don’t get close to her, or we might end up finding your body in a ditch »

kaede doesn’t follow through, but sometimes she thinks about running away from school to escape the bullying.

« come to think of it, she was always weird wasn’t she? she’s so creepy! »

maybe at some point it gets so disruptive that kaede can’t have a functional or healthy school life due to the constant harassment and alienation, so the school board agreed to let kaede do the rest of the year through online classes or homeschooling

in a way this works out very well for kaede, because it allows her more freetime to do vigilante stuff and she gets to avoid people’s gaze.

she’s grown to dislike them, the scornful gaze of her peers and the pity from the adults.

the student’s parents always come to apologise to her, but for some reason their pity infuriates her to no end.

sadly this means that kaede isn’t as cheerful as before and becomes more closed off and reserved :(

kaede would continue to do ice skating tho

because it’s her passion

but also because she’s obstinate like that

« oh the others don’t want me here? they hate me?? they think i don’t belong on the ice??? they can go stick it, i’m gonna be amazing out of spite! »

at home kaede becomes even more protective over her grandmother, as seeing as she’s being homeschooled means she gets to spend more time w her and help her out with the housework

idk the blue flames could be handy for doing housework

oh the stove won’t light up? oh you’re gonna go get a different lighter? nice this is a convenient time to use my next power to spark the stove! when grandma is back kaede is just like « look i got it to light up, guess u didn’t have to go through all that trouble huh? » :D

since the fire doesn’t burn indiscriminately, could she, theoretically, control the heat/where it burns to make laundry dry faster???

kaede nearly gets a heart attack seeing the new scarecrow for grandma’s cabbage patch, but turns out she just found kaede’s vigilante costume laying around and didn’t think twice about it

bonus points of grandma uses lunatic himself as a scarecrow

lunatic would make an incredible scarecrow fight me

despite not being able to retrieve kotetsu’s body to bury him with tomoe, kaede often visits their family grave and the shrine in kotetsu’s room and bring them flowers.

she knows she’s just talking to air, but she likes to recount her day to her parents. about whatever she’s up to, and keeping them updated on everyone’s condition: grandma and uncle are doing well. grandma is still healthy thank god, while uncle sometimes like to joke about how his store is terribly quiet now without kotetsu around.

she tells them the whole truth, how she found lunatic and was going to avenge her father. that she was going to prove his innocence to everyone, if it was the last thing she’ll ever do.

in a bittersweet way, it comforts her somewhat that her father is finally with his wife again and that they’re both watching over her.

of next powers and secret identities

to this day, kaede is the only one who knows about yuri’s secret identity

they’re both complicit in this secret matter

schemes

this continues even after the endings

even if she became a hero she’d refuse to reveal lunatic’s real identity

it’s a matter of principle

she will always hold a great deal of respect for her mentor

schemes

on another note, i’m fixing kaede’s next power because it’s too broken and is kinda inconvenient lmao: in this au she needs actual skin-to-skin contact to assimilate someone else’s next power, so if the individual is wearing gloves or touching clothes it won’t work.

adding on to this, kaede starts wearing gloves when she’s up and about so that she can limit the amount of nexts she may unknowingly make contact with and keep her current ability [blue fire].

the power would be super useful tho. like you can make yourself disappear into a puff of flames,,, so theoretically if kaede finds herself in a situation she’d rather not be in she can just ghost you irl

« y’all ugly. boom. »

remember how kaede’s room is filled to the brim w barnaby merch???

great for target practice and for letting out your anger

also to dramatically scribble out the eyes in black sharpie to get the revenge girl aesthetic

oh man she’ll probably be sad that she snipped her father off from that one picture with barnaby

in that regard her attitude towards bunny will take a complete 180

she used to think the world of him, but now all she thinks about is crushing him under her heel

also, i know she’d imitate lunatic’s whole speech thing, but what if she repeated her father’s catchphrase to provoke barnaby?

also in homage of her dad ofc

« it’s time to let out a wild roar! »

*strikes pose*

*angery barnaby noises*

what if as time goes on it gets increasingly harder and harder to hide the fact that kaede is a vigilante.

like at first, her family is like “oh she’s grieving in her own way, let’s give her some space” and they’re surprised by how well kaede is taking it because she’s so calm, even if she’s more distant

while kaede sneaks out at night to start shit

and her grandmother starts to notice how she seems more alert and jumpy, or sleep deprived. how kaede seemed to be hiding bruises and injuries, and tries to clean her wounds herself late at night.

when asked kaede would deny everything and say she doesn’t use her next powers anymore because it freaks her out

but grandma is suss

she concerned for her granddaughter

maybe she doesn’t know about kaede’s secret identity but maybe she finds out she’s been meeting with yuri

a grandma beats up a man in his late 20s-mid 30s on live television

maybe at some point the heroes learn kaede’s real age, or assume correctly that she’s barely a teen and they’re like

is lunatic forcing you to do this ?

you don’t have to do something you don’t want to

it’s not too late for you if you give up

when rlly this was all kaede’s choice in the first place, not even lunatic’s

and that assumption rlly makes kaede angry, because their inactivity led to her father’s death and forced her hands

so it’s not their place to act like they’re concerned for her and her safety

just rlly distrust and dislike the heroes

has a strong disdain for them

real talk, but kaede doesn’t know that the heroes were brainwashed. that’s why she’s able to be so ruthless against them, because she thinks they’re evil and working for some big conspiracy while playing a helpful and friendly front.

but when/if she does learn the truth? the kotetsu factor jumps out.

they aren’t acting as if they were the good guys, they rlly think that they are because to them they just took out another criminal and not their longtime friend.

she’ll have an inner conflict. because on one hand, the heroes don’t know any better and are being manipulated so it would be cruel to punish them so harshly. on the other hand, they got her dad killed and for that she wants to inflict them as much pain and grief as they have caused her.

the kotetsu factor would keep her going tho. now she’s determined to not only clear her father’s name, but also restore everyone’s memory, because it’s the right thing to do.

but now everytime she has to face them and fight, she feels a slight hesitancy and feels sorry for them.

mayhaps blue rose as double agent ???

origami got big double agent potential, but he wasn’t having any of kotetsu’s shit so alas

another important character we gotta talk about: h-01

hear me out

so the android isn’t built with a voice box so it can’t speak. it don’t got any acoustics. but because of maverick’s brainwashing, when the heroes talk to the empty air they hear “tiger’s” response, which is purely borne from their own psychosis.

h-01: …

barnaby: perfect idea tiger, you can cover me

rock bison: who is that guy?

h-01: …

rock bison: yeah they look very suspicious to me too…

h-01: …

barnaby: i know!

anyway, it’s very weird and surreal to watch

just the heroes having a very one sided conversation

lunatic and kaede don’t know what to make of it and finds it really bizarre, because they know the android isn’t saying anything at all

yet the heroes are convinced he’s communicating with them

so maybe if kaede manages to restore someone’s memory, they start to notice that “tiger” doesn’t actually talk. he never did this whole time.

and it gets hard to come up with a response and pretend he answered them.

the restored heroes also find it super creepy how it’s just silent and watching, how the others seem to think that the robot can speak.

maybe this will cause some suspicion amongst the heroes (who will brush it off) and maverick, and the restored hero will have to pretend to still be brainwashed to not get manipulated a second time

basically h-01 is creepy and just generally not fun to be around

illustration

edit: thank you @kyarymell for cleaning the sketch up on photoshop ;w;

LIKE MY WORK? CONSIDER BUYING ME A COFFEE // CHECKING OUT MY MASTERLIST | LINKS CAN BE FOUND ON MY DESC

#tiger & bunny #kaede kaburagi #yuri petrov #kotetsu t. kaburagi #barnaby brooks jr #taibani #wild tiger #au #falselywrites #im oddly invested inthis silly au #i just #want to see kaede start chaos #and yuri being a mentor figure #i am easily pleased #pls #i'll probably make a reference of kaede sooner or later...#desolation!au

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cranetreegang · 4 years

Text

Fallout 4: Grand Zealot Brian Richter x FemSol: Undercover

A little something about Grand Zealot Richter. This guy... his voice!!! UGH!! Why can’t he be a companion... or a husband. Anyways, FemSol is going ‘undercover’ in the AntiRadaway gang to find DiMA’s memories. And she will do *anything* ;) to prove her loyalty.

If you’re here for just smut, go to the section for Loyalty Questioned and Morning After.

Any feedback is great! Thanks for reading! :)

Going Undercover

“So, I’ll need to get into this submarine. Figure out where your memory is being stored. All while, not killing them.” I hummed out loud my thoughts. “If I end up a ghoul, or worse, bald, I’m gonna be a lil’ upset.”

“It would be best if you didn’t interact with us once you leave. We can’t have you raise any suspicions.” DiMA brought up.

“You’ll have to stay here then, Nick.” I looked over to my partner who didn’t seem to like the idea. “We can talk more about it later.” Nick nodded and didn’t press the issue in front of the synths. “I’ll let you know once I’ve recovered the memories. Or if something else comes up.”

“Good luck, traveler.” DiMA at least seemed sincere with his farewell wishes. Nick walked me outside where we could converse alone.

“I don’t like this.” Nick immediately stated.

“We don’t have much of a choice. It’s not like you blend in.”

“And you’re not rad proof.” He countered back. I rolled my eyes with a sigh.

“Yeah. I know. Again, we don’t have a choice. If I’m gonna get his memory, without bloodshed, I’m gonna need to go alone.”

There was a tense silence as he came to terms with this venture. He reluctantly nodded. “Alright. I think you should still report back to us once you’ve made progress. I don’t wanna worry about you anymore than I already am.”

“Deal. I’ll meet up with you after I’ve gotten in.” I shook his outstretched hand before going in for a brief hug. “Try not to fry your circuits worrying about me. I’ll be back to bug ya soon enough.”

He choked out a laugh with a matching eye roll. “I’ll keep digging around here while you’re gone. See what turns up. I’m not too convinced about this whole ‘brother’ thing.” Nick’s features faltered for a moment. I worried about him, and these new ‘relations’. With another set of goodbyes, I headed towards the Nucleus.

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Meeting the Grand Zealot

Their camp wasn’t hard to miss. Even in the thick fog, warm lights led me towards their entrance. What I stumbled into was not the greatest first impression. I watched an intimidating, but soft-spoken man order for two cultists’ loyalty. Grand Zealot, they called him. She shot her ‘brother’ without hesitation. I pushed down my already mounting hesitation at joining them. At least I knew what would happen if they suspected me. The Grand Zealot’s attention turned to me.

“You. What are you doing here? Did Far Harbor send you?” He had a presence that could make people submit to him. If I was a lesser being, I would have without question. He was the one that I would need to convince. A bubbling anxiety formed in my chest at the challenge.

“Whoa! It’s okay. I’m not from Far Harbor. One of your… people spoke to me. Near Arcadia.” I needed to be as honest as possible. That seemed to work best when lying. ‘Half-truths’, as Deacon called them.

His eyes stripped me a part where I stood. “Quite the journey. So, explain to me what you’re doing here. You come seeking a place among Atom’s children?”

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He seemed convinced after I explained my interest in joining their cult. Just enough to let me participate in their trail. As I stood over the spring, I started to question what exactly I was doing. Drinking this seemed unwise. I gave a silent pray to whoever was listening at this point, before taking a mouthful. I wanted to puke. It tasted like watery acid. My insides twisted and felt like they were being ripped a part. My vision grew blurry. My ears began to ring.

A voice called out to me that brought a relief to my anguish. A motherly figure appeared in front of me. I followed her without question. The feelings were strange. The visions even more so. She was warm and comforting. Like an answer to a long forgotten question. She led me to a small clay statue. I presented it to the Grand Zealot. His eyes grew wide at the sight of the figure.

“A woman led me to this. Mean something to you?” I wondered.

“A woman? Led you to that icon? What woman? What did you see?” Grand Zealot questioned.

“I don’t know how to describe her. Motherly? She showed me… things. I’m not quite sure what to make of it. I followed her to this thing.”

He looked at me in awe. Whatever happened was the right thing as he led me inside without further question. He almost seemed eager at my joining. He even urged me to speak to the High Confessor about my vision. I watched him climb up the submarine to a decent vantage point that overlooked the base.

This couldn’t have gone better, and I even had ‘Mother’s’ blessing. If only Deacon could see me now.

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Her (3rd POV: Mainly Richter’s thoughts)

Brazen. That’s what she was. She spoke to him without fear, or hesitance. She tried to seem submissive, but the fire in her eyes gave her away. Others looked away from him with respect, or fear. Maybe both. But her, she matched his gaze with one of her own. Richter pondered on this for sometime. She was obviously a leader, yet she was here as a follower. When she returns from her latest exploits, he watches.

She’s not what she seems. She’s friendly to their siblings. Her eyes wander around. Looking… no searching. Analyzing. He’s seen her poke around the base. She’s sneaky though. She’s always had a reason for being there. He’s even had her followed a handful of times; only for them to lose her quickly in the fog. Like she goes invisible, they told him.

No matter. She hasn’t done anything to provoke him. Instead, she’s been helpful. Sister Mia and Zealot Wares spoke highly of her. Sister Mia said that the woman fixed the arches. He went through them the other day, and didn’t feel the warm glow of Atom. He looked over the pump himself, and was unable to find any tampering. As he watches the woman approach, he wonders if he is trying to find something wrong with her.

“Grand Zealot.” She greeted with a hint of a smile. Her teeth. Far too white for a regular wastelander. Her skin was nearly flawless. He hadn’t seen this level of pristine since the Enclave. Even then, she was even more so. Like she was preserved through the harshness of life in the Wasteland. Many have come to the conclusion that she must’ve been a vault dweller at some point.

“Sister.” He greeted back.

“I’ve taken care of Sister Gwyneth.” Her head was held up a bit higher.

“I see.” He caught himself frowning at the news. “She brought it on herself. Won’t ask you for the details. Doesn’t really matter to me.” He stated. Her eyes flickered for a brief moment. Something caught her interest, and he was curious as to what. “You’ve done well. Proved your devotion and more important, your loyalty. Atom smiles on you, Sister.”

She gave a pleased smile and gave a low bow of her head. “Glory to Atom.” He shifted as he handed her something fitting for her.

“Take this. It’s not just a weapon, it’s one of our sacred artifacts.” He handed her the large hammer. Her brows rose with shock before she resumed an impassive, but pleased, mask. “Go forth, and show no mercy to the enemies of Atom.”

She held over the hammer in thought. She met his gaze once more. “Was there something between you and Sister Gwyneth? I heard that you two were close.”

He laughed a bit. He didn’t take her as one to listen to rumors. “Ha. No. She was just a good woman. A touch odd, but someone you could rely on. Always managed to turn up a cache of Mirelurk eggs on beaches you thought were clear. We were better with her.” His smile shifted into something more somber. “Shame to watch her slip away. Can’t be helped now.”

She gave a soft smile. “You’re not like the others here. You’re different. Why is that?”

The statement rocked him from his usual composure. “Brazen thing, aren’t you? What makes you say that?”

“I can just tell. You have this… aura about you.”

He found himself entranced by her. He told her about his time as an Enclave soldier. He spoke of how he was found clinging to life by the High Confessor. He hadn’t told many of his siblings about this. He found himself enjoying telling his story to her as she listened intently.

He noticed she had a certain sadness that gleamed in her eyes. Something the Archemist spoke of.

“How did you know that you would be rescued? I hope this doesn’t come off as brash, but you were trapped. Seemed hopeless.” She wondered.

“I didn’t.” He admitted. “Thinking back now, I believe that Atom is what kept me from… joining my comrades.”

She hummed in deep thought before speaking again. “Thank you. Talking about… about the past, can be difficult at times.” Her brows furrowed and she looked away from him. “I had another question.”

“Go ahead, Sister.”

“I also heard another rumor. I’d heard you were the last one to see Brother Edgar. What happened?”

He bristled at her question. She was striking nerves he didn’t realize he had exposed. How could she possibly know about Brother Edgar. “Edgar?” He asked confused. She nodded and waited for him to continue. “Crawler got him. Happens sometimes. Nothing more to it,” he had to compose himself for a moment, “,was there something else?”

Her features hardened. He would even describe her as being disappointed. “No. Nothing else, Grand Zealot.” She gave a short nod, and left without another word. He watched her head towards her bed. Leaving him with much to think about.

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Breaking In

I laid in bed listening to the soft chanting slowly subside. The bustle of noise was waning. The only sounds that could be heard was the creaking of the sub and the footsteps of roaming zealots. This would have to do. I looked around and was satisfied that mostly everyone was asleep.

I padded my way through the sleeping cultists towards the blocked off section of the base. The usual guard was missing. Must be guard rotation. I gave one final look around before going inside.

I was greeted by several laser trip wires. I grimaced at the fallen cultists littering the place. What a pity. I knelt down by the entrance trying to find any signs of movement, and gather my thoughts on how best to approach this.

“What are you doing here?” The soft voice of Richter echoed down the tunnel. I cursed my luck at the one person I didn’t want to know I was here. A million thoughts went through my head on how this would play out. None of them were promising. I looked back to Richter. He didn’t have his rifle drawn on me, so that was a good sign.

“I could ask you the same thing.” I countered back. He gave me a stern glare. He came towards me and knelt down like I was.

“I saw you come in here.” He was more observant than I gave him credit for.

“I thought everyone was asleep.”

“What are you doing here, Sister?” He had a hint of concern laced in his voice. I frowned at the forming attachments I was starting to have with these people. I looked back down the trapped hallway.

“Curious. That’s all.” I deflected. I could see his displeased grimace from the corner of my eye.

“Your curiosity will get you killed.”

“Hasn’t so far.” I smirked at him. He didn’t seem amused. “I’m checking this out. I don’t care if you join me. But, don’t try to stop me.” I stated while trying to stand up. He grasped my arm and kept me knelt.

“Wait.” He paused. “You don’t know what dangers lie ahead. Or what they’re trying to protect.” He gave a worried look towards the tunnel then back to me. He cared. I wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“You don’t think me capable?”

He shook his head while squeezing my arm. His hold on me was tight, but not enough to hurt me. “That’s not the issue.”

I knew the issue right then. I could see it in his eyes. The only way he would leave me to the task, was by reassurance. He gripped his forearm. I leaned over and placed a light kiss on his cheek. I hovered near him enough to whisper, “Don’t worry. I’m pretty hard to kill.”

His hazel green eyes were ablaze. His cool demeanor broken. He wanted to say so much. “Sister… you’re setting down a dangerous path.” He whispered so quietly back to me.

“A path that I won’t be going down alone. I have Atom with me.” I hoped that would be enough to convince him. His brows furrowed. “This is like a pilgrimage. Something that I must complete.”

He opened his mouth to object, but quickly closed it. “Very well.” He released his hold on me. “Go with Atom, Sister.”

“See ya soon, Richter.” I smiled at him. He had a hint of a bitter smile playing on the corners of his lips. With him leaving, I went through with my mission.

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Loyalty Questioned (Mild Smut/Sex Scene)

“You are under question, Sister. Even if you are a messenger of the Mother.” Tektus stated. I tried not to tense up at his accusation. I would only have so much time to react.

“That’s unfortunate to hear. Especially since I’ve given so much to Atom.” I looked around the room. Two guards, Tektus, and, the most concerning, Richter. I’d need to deal with him first.

“There is more you can give. I was granted a vision, as well as the Grand Zealot. Atom requires that you spread His word through generations.” Tektus began. “Atom requires you to bear a true Child of Atom.”

My blood froze in my veins. I almost wanted to laugh at what he was suggesting. I kept a straight face, thankfully.

“I see.” I kept any vile feelings out of my voice. I focused on my breathing. In and out. I’ll make it through this.

“The Grand Zealot has offered himself for this task.” Tektus motioned over to Richter. I shouldn’t have been surprised. He’s shown interest in me for some time. His execution in the matter was less than desirable though.

“Atom has chosen well.” I bowed my head at Tektus, who was more than pleased at my compliance. This was going better than expected. Let Richter fuck me, then I’ll leave with my life. Not a bad trade considering all the things I’ve been doing under their noses.

“Then go. Go and deliver Atom’s will.” Tektus pointed towards Richter’s room. I frowned at the rush of this. I didn’t spare anyone else another look. I walked into Richter’s room. I’ve been here before. Though the circumstances were far different. I heard his footsteps behind me. He shut the door, but I kept my back to him.

“I won��t touch you.” He whispered behind me. He was close. Close enough that his breath hit the back of my neck. “Even if Atom commands us, I won’t take you.”

I faced him. He was tense. I suppose I was too. I let my mind wander on how best to approach this. I needed them to believe I was loyal. If they’re questioning me, then I won’t have the leverage needed to bring peace.

“Did you dream of taking me, Grand Zealot?” I asked.

“Your brazenness has no bounds.” He frowned a bit. “But, no. I didn’t.” He whispered the last part. I tilted my head in a bit of shock.

“You lied. Why?”

“The High Confessor had a vision of a child. Your child. I felt… he would have given you to someone who would not respect what you are.”

“And what exactly am I?”

“Not something that can be conquered, like the High Confessor believes. I see the fire in you. You burn brighter than any Glow. I’m not sure if it’s Atom’s will or not. But, I know I don’t want you tamed. Or your fire extinguished.” Richter confessed. “That’s why I volunteered myself.”

I realized I lost full composure. I looked away from him and took a step back. “Take off your armor.” I commanded.

If he was surprised at the authority in my tone, he didn’t show it. He started to strip away the pieces of heavy armor. I watched him. Once the armor was off, I circled around him. He didn’t move, nor look at me. He had his gaze focused directly in front of him. I smirked a bit at the good little soldier in front of me.

He was well built. The wetsuit did little to hide that. I stopped in front of him. My hands trailed up his chest to the zipper on the front of his suit. I felt his body was rigid under my touch.

“Do I make you uncomfortable, Grand Zealot?”

“No.” He whispered. His hazel eyes met mine. I could see them starting to darken with want. I held his gaze while I undid his wetsuit. His breath hitched as the cool air hit his hot skin. I could feel the heat against my fingers. He slipped out of his suit without hesitation. He was bare to me. He showed no shame in this.

I felt a fever creep up my neck to my cheeks. I knew my facade was starting to break. I walked around him again. He had numerous scars. Knives, bullets, burns, and scratches. I traced one long claw mark on his back. His skin raised into goosebumps. He was so warm. The Glow of Atom’s embrace, I’ve been told.

I felt along his shoulder towards his arm. I came around to his chest. I saw a tattoo of what I assumed to be his Enclave assignment. I frowned a bit at how that reminded me of Nate. I traced over his designation of Lieutenant before letting my other hand go up to his neck. His beard was coarse. My fingers briefly tangled against the hair. I settled on his cheek.

He wanted to touch me, but held himself back. I couldn’t deny how much I admired that in him. His restraint. His respect. His nobility. All things that reminded me so much of the past. I realized that I did want him. Not out of obligation to my cover, but for my own selfish need.

“Richter?” I whispered. We were so close to one another. My body pressed against his. My lips a mere breath away from his own. My other hand felt his heart beat just as fast as mine. “Do you want me?”

He took a deep breath. “If you’ll have me.”

I pressed my lips against his to answer him. It was gentle and almost too sweet. His lips were so hot and rough. With my silent permission, his arms were quick to pull me closer against him. He kissed me back with a ferocity that was nearly feral. One of his hands tangled into my hair. Even if I wanted to pull away, I couldn’t.

It was like my breath was taken from me. He must have felt the same, because he pulled away with a gasp. He looked at me with a hint of shock. His hand moved from my hair to my cheek. His thumb brushed over the skin. He had an intense stare as he looked over my flushed face. Like he was trying his hardest to memorize every detail of me.

I stepped away from him which caused him to frown for a moment. His eyes lit up as I disrobed myself. He looked over me with awe. He pulled me back against him. The heat of his skin against mine was overwhelming. I shuddered at the contact. His hands moved up my back while his lips claimed mine once again. They didn’t stay for long before he nipped at my neck. He sucked a bit harshly in some spots. I let out a shocked gasp that melted into a moan as he continued his marking.

“Richter.” I let out in a breathy moan. He met my gaze.

“Brian.”

I smiled a bit. “Lyra.” I told him my real name. I wanted to curse my foolishness, but knew it was already too late. His eyes were glazed over with a grin forming.

“Lyra. What a beautiful name, for a beautiful soul.” He kissed me once more. His touches were everywhere on my body. He lingered over some areas longer than others. He seemed enraptured at times. He laid me on the bed as he started to claim me.

His movements in me were powerful and deep. Hitting a place in me that I had long forgotten. I tried to keep my pleasure from reaching others’ ears. He seemed to have the opposite thought in mind. His growls and rough groans echoed in his room. It sent shivers up my spine at the low noises he made. The way his chest vibrated against my own.

We clutched onto each other as we reached our limit. As if we were trying to become one with the other. I held his gaze while coming down from our blissful high. He placed several kisses over my lips, cheeks, and neck. He shifted us in bed until I was firmly placed on his chest. I laid my forehead against his cheek.

“Your skin.” He murmured while tracing down my sides. “It’s practically untouched.” He moved up my arm and held my hand.

“I’m not from here.” I dumbly blurted out.

A slight laugh escaped him. It sounded unusual coming from him. Like he hadn’t done it in a long time. “No. That’s plain to see. I suspect that you grew up in a vault.”

“That’s a good guess.” A silence hung in the air for a moment. His hand left mine, and instead went to my cheek. He moved my loose hair behind my ears. He was so tender and gentle. I hadn’t felt something like this in a long time. I closed my eyes and enjoyed his care.

“The vault I was in…,” I paused. Finding the right words was hard.

“You don’t have to tell me.” He whispered with a comforting kiss on my forehead.

“I want to. Even if you won’t believe me. It’s a bit outlandish when I think about it.” I tried to lighten the mood. He frowned a bit.

“I trust you, Lyra.”

My gut twisted for a moment. He trusted me. Even though I would be an agent of his demise. That was a moral dilemma I would need to face another time.

“I didn’t grow up in the vault. I used to live in Colorado actually. It was beautiful. The air was so clean. Never thought I would miss that.” I thought back to my time in the mountains. The snow. The crisp fall air. “I met my husband there. He was stationed at an army base. We moved to Boston once he finished his tour in Alaska. We just had a baby. A beautiful son.” Brian’s fingers kept tracing over my cheek and jaw. “We were rushed into a vault. I saw it. It was like the sun, it was so bright. Then we were frozen. For over 200 years. Someone came and killed my husband. They took my baby. I’ve been looking for him since.” He wiped away the freshly formed tears. He gave me a soft look before kissing my forehead gently.

“The Archemist spoke of a sadness in you. A great loss. I’m sorry.” He didn’t pity me. No… he understood far too well. I suppose that’s how life was now. Horribly tragic.

“Thank you for listening. I haven’t talked about them since I first woke up.” My brows furrowed. How long ago was that?

“You remind me of him.” I admitted.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. I shook my head while stroking his bearded cheek.

“Don’t be. I don’t mean it in a bad way. It’s… you’re kind. Loyal. Strong. Nate was like that.” I smiled. He softly smiled back.

“I’m glad you see such qualities in me.”

I kissed him to bring the talks of the past to a close. He was content with this as he placed me tight against him once again. I nuzzled into his neck. He was so warm and comforting. I relished in him. I fell asleep faster than I had in a long time.

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The Morning After (another mild sex scene)

I awoke in confusion at first. Seeing myself wrapped around Brian, reminded me of last night’s events, and confessions. I watched him sleep for a moment. The most relaxed I’ve ever seen him. Like a kitten, I mused with myself. I brushed through his unruly beard. My fingers gently worked out the knots that had formed.

“Morning.” He greeted with his eyes still closed. His voice laced with sleep.

“I could help you tame this, if you’d like.” I teased a bit. He squinted one eye open.

“Do you not like it?”

“That’s not what I said.” I countered. “I think it’s a little… overgrown. That’s all.” I bit my lip to hold back my amusement at his disgruntled expression. I got on top of him which got his attention. “I’ll be leaving today.” I shifted my hips a bit, and felt his already hard member press back. His nostrils flared at my, not so subtle, intentions.

“Where are you going?” His hands gripped my hips. His fingers digging into my soft flesh. I smirked a bit while leaning over him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” I kissed him then bit his lip. “I heard some rumors that I’m gonna check out.”

“Rumors?” He questioned, displeased. He tried to still my moving body. “I’m not sure-,” he was trying his best to focus, but I was doing my best to not let him.

“I’ve worked with less.” I managed to steal another kiss from him. He groaned at his crumbling will to stop me. I rolled my hips again which sent him over the edge. He put himself inside me. Although I was eager, I still needed some time to adjust to his girth.

“I don’t like… the idea of you wandering around the island aim… aimlessly.” He panted.

“I’ll be fine. I’ve gotten the hang of this place.” I kissed him with the confidence I felt. I pushed myself up and down on him. He hissed while shutting his eyes. I heard him curse me under his breath. I sat back to take full control. I leaned back to brace myself against his hairy muscular legs. My head falling back in a luxurious bliss. He felt so good in me.

I heard him moan in pleasure at the sight. His hands crawled up my belly then settled back on my hips. Finding my pace too slow, he started to help me. He held and moved my body to a penetrating pace. I fell back on top of him. He wrapped around my body. His arms moved me like I weighed nothing.

“I’ll miss you. While I’m gone.” I moaned. He grunted in response while finishing inside me. His mind had to catch up while he let out shaky breaths.

“Do you have to go today?” He asked winded. His eyes begged me while he kept himself from vocally doing so.

“Yes. Or else I fear I’ll never leave this bed.” I smiled which he in turn gave a lopsided grin to.

“When will you be back?” He nipped at my neck and ear.

“Soon. I don’t know how long this will take.”

“Alright.” He huffed.

I stood up to start getting dressed. I felt his eyes on me as I covered myself in my gear. I was about to turn around to bid him farewell, when his arms wrapped tight around my waist. His nose buried itself into the crook of my neck.

“Be safe, Lyra. I look forward to your return.” He kissed my neck before releasing me. The gut retching guilt I felt last night returned. I let out a shuddered breath. Do I have to leave? Couldn’t I stay here forever? I faced him. He was handsome in his disheveled form. Something out of a dream or movie. I placed a long lingering kiss on him.

“I’ll be back soon.” I promised him. He gave a short nod.

“Atom guide you.” He whispered as I left. I laid against his door for a moment. The cool metal helped center me. I’ve compromised myself. Deacon warned me about this. Getting involved with someone while you’re undercover. I just wanted to feel human again. To feel alive. Now… I wonder what that will cost me.

#brianrichter #richter #fallout4 #fallout #fanfic #smut #grandzealot #zealot #children of atom #far harbour dlc #far harbor #grand zealot richter

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second-chance-stray · 3 years

Photo

RP Log: Cravs and Rising go on a disastrous hike.

Cravendy Hound has invited Rising to “relaxing hike through Sorrel Haven,” despite the area being infested by countless malboros and ziz. She leaves off that part - it’s not lying if you just don’t mention it. For now, she waits by the exit of the White Wolf gate for her companion.

Rising Lotus wasn't too far behind Cravendy, strolling through the gate a few minutes later and catching up to her. "Hey there!" as she was hurrying over her eyes gazed upwards toward the giant fallen tree. "Gods, it's crazy how huge they get out here, I guess by the company home too, but like," she outstretched her hands around her.

Rising Lotus: "Out in the forest forest the trees get so big here! "

Cravendy Hound: “Ye know, I’ve ‘eard that they’re just as tall below ground. What poor sod ‘ad to be the one to dig one up and find that out though, eh?” Cravs shrugs.

Rising Lotus rubbed her chin. "Maybe they dug out a littler one and jus' figured it was the same? Or not the same, but figured, bigger the tree bigger the roots." she returned the shrug, she was no botanist after all.

Cravendy Hound rubs her chin. “Mmh, that makes sense. But ‘ell if I know ‘ow trees work, specially out ‘ere in the Shroud.” She then absentmindedly fiddles with her gun as she turns to face the forest. “Anyway, let’s ‘ead out and ‘ope nothin’ interrupts our walk...though with my luck, we should expect the worst.”

Rising Lotus nodded, putting her hands behind her head afterwards. "I'm sure there ain't nothin' we can't handle. I /am/ back to full strength after all." she flashed a cocky grin. "Lead on!"

Cravendy Hound leads on, past stalking brood ziz and to the oddly named ‘Hopeseed Pond.’ She wrinkles her nose upon seeing the weird, planty...meaty? Plant-meat creatures wading around. “Ye know what, I don’t know what I was thinkin’ bringin’ us ‘ere. If one of those boros breath on ye, ye’ll be sick once again.”

Rising Lotus is calm despite the wildlife all around them. "Ugh..can smell their maws from here.." her eyes dropped to the bridge, then back to the pond full of ravenous giant plants. "Gonna go out on a limb an' say not many folk use this bridge no more." she pauses for a moment. "Hey! Why you so sure it's gonna get me sick!" she huffed a bit.

Rising Lotus: "I mean one ain't breathed on me yet and I wanna keep it that way, but it could jus' as easily hit you. Plus! Me being sick last week was jus'...a fluke."

Cravendy Hound playfully bumps Rising’s shoulder with her fist. “Aye, right right, a fluke. As for me, I never get sick. So if one of these boros come our way, ye can just stand behind me, heh.” She then takes a step on the rickety bridges and observes how...well. Gross it is? The whole area is pretty gross? Rotten wood and stagnant waters and looming monsters - but a little danger never hurt anyone.

Rising Lotus cracked a smirk. "Well to be honest I'm more worried about the smell then gettin' sick, but if you wanna take the brunt of it for me.." she was sure to follow behind Cravs as she started across the bridge, testing each plank with her foot before putting her weight on it.

Cravendy Hound is not nearly as careful as Rising, and strides forward with all the confidence in the world. She inadvertently steps onto a weakened plank of wood, which snaps under her weight. She falls, one leg stuck in the gap. “Goddamned shite piece of wood!”

Cravendy Hound: “I think ye were right about people not comin’ ‘ere often...” She grumbles under her breath.

Rising Lotus was caught off guard by Crav sinking down, more by her reaction than the actual board breaking. She carefully hurried behind her. "You didn't get cut up at all did ya?" She was right behind Cravs, looking over her shoulder and trying to peer down the hole. "Here lets get ya out of there.." kneeling down, she hooked her hands under Crav's shoulders.

Rising Lotus: "I'll pull ya slowly, you jus' make sure you don't get torn up or a nasty splinter on the way up."

Cravendy Hound: “I don’t need ye fussin’ over me like some freshfaced whelp, I got it,” Cravs stammers as she wiggles left and right in attempt to wiggle herself free from Rising’s help. “Don’t ye worry yer pretty lil’ face, it’ll take more than a splinter to down ol’ Cravs.”

Cravendy Hound - However, as she tries to pull herself up, she feels something keeping her ankle held down. That’s odd. And, more embarrassingly, she’s still stuck after being so confident earlier. The more she struggles, the deeper her leg sinks. By now, Cravs is sweating bullets.

Rising Lotus was still concerned, but she did get it, being incredibly stubborn herself at times. She released Cravs and stood back up. "Alright alright, I shouldn't of doubted ya." snickering a bit, she took a step back, giving her friend the space she might need to escape. "I'll make sure nothin' comes by to maybe take a bite of a delicious leg wigglin' under the bridge..an' I'll give ya a heads up if any travelers are comin' too."

Cravendy Hound - To this, Cravs only grunts in response. Coherent thoughts escape her under the immense embarrassment she’s currently dealing with. If Rising were to look under the bridge, she’d find a juvenile stroper idly tugging on Crav’s leg. Every time the Sea wolf tries to lunge out, it pulls her back down by the foot with greater force.

Rising Lotus was still waiting for her friend to free herself, keeping an eye on the bigger stroper's minding their own business thankfully. "Alright no need to make a big show out of it all, stop stallin' before you fall all the way through." she was biting her lower lip gently to stifle a bit of laughter. "You stuck on somethin'? Want me to peek under the bridge?" she started toward the edge, more so to try and catch a glimpse of Crav's leg comically wiggling under it.

Cravendy Hound: “‘Suppose the Navigator saw fit to destroy what little remains of me pride, right ‘ere and now.” Cravs crumples against the bridge and sighs against the wood. “Aye, yeah, it feels like somethin’s got my foot. Can ye see what it is?”

Rising Lotus quickly got to her knees and stuck her head over the side of the bridge, eager to see what manner of thing had snagged the Seawolf. "Oh! It's a baby one of these things!" she waved an arm out to the pond. "Luckily his teeths don't look too sharp yet, still has a good grip on ya though." Cravs would hear a bit of snorting and giggling coming from under the bridge. Rising grabbed her spear off her back, not bothering to start up aetherial blade, and started jabbing at the small stroper, not aiming to hurt it really, but just shoo it off. "Go on get ya lil bastard!"

(Cravendy Hound) you know what I'm feeling spicy )) (Cravendy Hound) Random! 19 (Cravendy Hound) aaahahha )) (Rising Lotus) Well then, bye leg!))

Cravendy Hound - The young Stroper turns to Rising and squirms in an attempt to dodge the jabs. It succeeds...that is, it succeeds in annoying it. It puffs up a bit and then charges at Rising in an attempt to knock her down. But as it does so, it fails to loosen its grip on Cravs, and the sudden motion tugs the Seawolf completely through the half-rotten boardwalk.

Cravendy Hound: “WHAT THE FU-” Cravs gets out before she falls face first into the slimy malboro.

(Cravendy Hound) I love a good bad roll )) (Rising Lotus) How big is it, like minion malboro sized or bigger?)) (Cravendy Hound) hmm I'm taking that Stroper nearby as adult, and the giant one as grandpa )) (Cravendy Hound) so teen = half of the adult size? )) (Rising Lotus) Okays! Also grandpa malboro x3))

Rising Lotus's eyes went wide as she saw Cravs fall through the bridge, all upside down from her perspective. "Ah shit!" pulling herself back up, she swung her legs over the side of the walkway and hopped down, shuddering as the mud she landed in seeped into her sandal boots. With Cravs so close to the beast, she didn't dare turn the blade to her lance on. Instead she reeled back then attempted to give it a good thwap across to the side of it's toothy mug

Random! Rising Lotus rolls a 224.

Cravendy Hound - Thwap! The beast is taken aback by Rising’s attack and, being young and inexperienced, decides to hightail it outta there. Cravs is taken along for the ride.

Cravendy Hound: “Overgrown, squid-looking plant bastard - argh!” As she’s dragged along the ground, she fumbles for her pistol and attempts to send a couple of rounds towards her captor.

Random! You roll a 55.

Cravendy Hound misses. Even worse, she drops her gun. Cravs goes limp, just...unable to take much more embarrassment.

(Cravendy Hound) lmao the RNG gods have something against me today xD ))

Rising Lotus grinned at the direct hit, quickly grimacing after it took off with Cravs in tow. "Oh gods damnit!" with a huff and a twist of her wrist the aetherial blade sparked alive. "Alright, uh, Cravs! Try to keep yourself high!" she was able to easily keep up with the stropper's wiggling legs, and when she got in range she aimed a mighty swipe across it's lower half, hoping to separate its top half from its bottom half.

(Rising Lotus) Random! 957 (Rising Lotus) That's causee the all the luck is mine \o/ )) (Cravendy Hound) all the luck!!! ))

Cravendy Hound - The swing separates the stroper into two. On both ends, its limbs continue to wiggle around like landlocked eels, but despite its continued movement, the monster is clearly dead. Or at least downed - who knows how malboros work.

Cravendy Hound gets up, completely covered in mud and malboro slime. She wipes her face clean with the side of her arm, revealing a very pissed off expression. For a moment, she simply stands there, dazed. She had said so herself earlier, that something bad was going to happen...but there was no preparing for something like this. Eventually, she glances over at Rising.

Cravendy Hound: “.............That happened.”

Rising Lotus quite pleased with her slice, she started to the the lifeless maw to help Cravs up, though didn't make much distance before she got up on her own. As she stowed her spear, she was doing her absolute best to not laugh as she saw the woman wearing a nice coat of ooze. It was when Cravs cleaned her face she lost her composure, snickering softly at first but quickly bursting into full out bellowing laughter.

Rising Lotus: " I-I-I'm sorry! I-I Am!" she started to snort a bit as she laughed, quickly cupping a hand to her mouth as her cheeks blushed a bit. "R-Really...aha... I'm glad you're alright!" she snorted once more before her laughter started to ease down.

Cravendy Hound is as still as a statue, save for the mud that slorgs down her body at a painfully slow speed. Cravs then lets her head go limp as a sort of mischievous intent grows within her. Once Rising is done laughing, she lifts her head back up with an evil grin on her face. “OH, oho...no need to apologize! After all, ye saved my ‘ide. Now let me give ye a proper thank ye.”

Cravendy Hound spreads her slime and mud covered arms, and then tries to hug (though it’s more of a tackle) Rising to the ground.

Rising Lotus "N-Now wai-" she had just put up her hands to try and halt Cravendy's assault when her muddy form smacked against Rising, both of them falling onto the ground with a splat. Rising laid there motionless for a few moments as Cravs pinned her down before. "You ass!" she finally blurted out, scrambling to push the sea wolf off of her now mud covered self.

Cravendy Hound is already one with the mud - she cannot be muddied any further. She cackles gleefully as she’s pushed over. “Thank ye kindly, oh noble adventurer!” It takes a good while for her to calm down enough to do anything but laugh from the ground. When she’s finally able to get up, she plods over to pick up her gun and flicks the mud off of it. “Ahh...haha. Hah.”

Rising Lotus quickly sat up after Cravs was pushed off, the entire back of her form coated in the sludge. The front was covered quite a bit too, front the tackle hug and the stuff the the ground that seeped over. As she tried to get up she shuddered, the openness of her outfit probably to blame. "Ugh...it's.. it's.." she shuddered once more. Needless to say she'd need a deep cleaning.

Cravendy Hound: “If we ‘ike to the end of the trail, all of this shits gonna ‘arden on us like a second skin. I’m ‘eadin’ back afore that ‘appens,” Cravs states as she gives her gun a good lookover. Poor thing had mud clogging up its every opening, and water was never good for metal. Better hurry. She turns to Rising. “A dip in the pools round the Lavender Beds should be enough.”

Rising Lotus nodded. "Aye.. probably don't want us trackin' this through the house either..." she started scraping off as much as she could. "Gods, it was bad enough the first time this happened.." she stomped through the muck to the shore, boots full of mud by now. "Though last time this happened it wasn't friendly fire." she shot a sneer toward Cravs, chuckling softly soon after.

Cravendy Hound - With every step, the two became less Roegadyn and more akin to mudmen. And on their way back to the FC, many civilians, just going on their day to day lives, would stop to stare. Thankfully, the walk wasn’t especially long, and the lake surrounding the Lavender Beds would do a fine job of washing them clean, though the stench lingered. A proper bath was certainly necessary after the fact.

#ff14 rp logs #Cravendy Hound #Rising Lotus #lets go on a relaxing hike! spoiler: it was not relaxing

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dahniwitchoflight · 4 years

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Homesquared Chapter 3

So i have seen smidgens of this on tumblr but just havent had time to do anything about it

and jesus christ Callie Jade is so horrifyingly creepy, and you know the things she’s narrating the characters can also hear which is also hilarious, it just reminds me of that comic about how “yeah sure there’s a giant ominous red floating eyeball in your kitchen, constantly staring, constantly judging, but can you be sure that’s a bad thing?”

and then someone tries to talk to it, but it doesn’t answer and the person goes “fine be an asshole i dont give a fuck”

thats exactly the dynamic happening with Callie Jade right now

Grumpy DaveKat is hilarious

and Hey! we finally get to see how people look, I really dig Roxy’s look

“ROXY: dude doesnt "believe" in "substances"”

This line from Roxy makes sense, as a person wholly ensconced in the idea of their own self and always being in control of themselves and their own mind and faculties they would hate anything at all that causes that iron mental grip to slip

That’s probably why Dirk avoided sleep even when his dreamself was awake, even sleeping and dreaming was considered a form of himself losing control over himself that he couldn’t integrate the idea himself and his dreamself were the same person rather than two identical people and also I remember that the Jujupop didn’t affect him either

Later on Dirk in the narrative will say something about his own trauma, but not really go into what it is, but if I had to hazard a guess (and really it’s not much of a guess at this point)

Dirk probably has memories of a version of himself being under the mental influence of another, Lil Cal, LE, Doc Scratch etc what have you, So Narrative Dirk may actually be a version of Dirk who’s not quite yet poisoned into being a version of those 3, but his words also hinted that just because he’s aware of a certain way that he’s acting doesn’t make him more likely to stop it

Like he’s equating that you can be aware of the influence something else is having on you and in the exact ways it is influencing you without being able to stop, the exact thing he is traumatized and afraid of being most likely

So his one driving fear, is he does not want to lose control of his own soul, his own being, his own way of life and existing, to something else, something other. Even though he most likely is fully aware of the things and mannerisms of the other that have slipped into himself? Like he’s probably fully aware of the similarities between himself and those mentioned above, but maybe the thing that he’s hinging on is that instead of those guys poisoning him into being like them, instead perhaps he can convince himself that it’s his own self influencing others to act like himself instead. His influence reaching out and expanding instead of shrinking as he fears it

Anyway, Dave and Kanaya have a cute moment, I really like that

We get a nice shot of them in shadows against a backdrop of stars and Kanaya starts talking about a story Rose would once tell so that’s story is already gonna be dripping in metaphorical potential

“ A Wriggler Story About A Young Prince And The Beloved Flower He Loved And Lost”

Though that’s a story I’m actually familiar with

KANAYA: A Singular Wild Rose He Failed To Cherish When He Had Her

KANAYA: And His Journey Of Discovering What She Meant To Him All Along

KANAYA: Culminating In A New Quest To Find Her And Win Her Back

KANAYA: The Story Comments On The Nature Of Friendship

KANAYA: And Of Course In Turn Love

KANAYA: How Once They Connect There Is No Distance Or Circumstance That Can Seperate Them

KANAYA: How The Worlds In Each Ones Mind Take On Contours Shaped By Their Memories Of The Other

KANAYA: Places And Moments And Orbiting Passersby Becoming More and More Entangled In The Context Of Their Mutual Affections

KANAYA: Such As With A Garden Calling To Mind An Engagement Once Declared There

KANAYA: Or Something To That Fucking Effect

So obviously Dirk and Rose

Dirk has Rose with him, discovers an actual genuine connection with her, likely because he already viewed her as an equal, despite his manipulations of her, and chapter 4 spoilers but he genuinely wants to play a game with her when there really isn’t any reason for it, so he is actually curious to see who comes out on top of it, Him or Her, so Dirk is probably in some way desperate to have an actual equal partner in some way instead of drowning in himself all the time, not surprising. But Rose, obviously, will leave and reject him, likely when the manipulation comes around and is revealed/Kanaya and all them reach her/that part of the story

But then the story tinges onto a romantic nature and is framing Dirk trying to get her back as a romantic quest to save his partner/friend something something love and friendship, “no distance can separate them” yeah that doesn’t sound like obsession with the first person you’ve ever truly seen as an equal/a real person,

yeah “A Garden calling to Mind an engagement once declared there” definitely sounds like the garden of eden/adam and eve paradise fantasy that Dirk has been trying for some reason, to setup on the new planet

Really begs the question for why Dirk cares at all to do all of this? Except we now the answer is already its not the thing itself he cares about, its the value hes putting into the story as something that generates interest in the audience

He doesn’t care about actually making a society or being gods or whatever, he just knows thats what the audience wants to see and cares about so therefore he does it

and the reason he does all of THAT is because is ties into his trauma of his sense of self eroding away becoming a person he’s unfamiliar with

I wonder how he’s going to handle how much he’s going to change in order to fit the role of the story he’s writing when all is said and done

the Dirk at the end of this is going to be very different than the Dirk that started in Homestuck, despite all of his fears and intentions, and that he could not say all of it wasnt his own doing because of the iron control he made sure to have from the very beginning, I honestly think that will be kind of a shock for him if a meeting like that ever one day happened

Specifically for the fact that he seems to be aware of the romantic in nature tropes hes writing himself and Rose into and for now still seems to be avoiding them, not having gone that far, but, well

Maybe this is where we’ll start to see where Doc Scratch’s odd tendencies starting coming from

You know he was always really weird with Rose and Vriska (Maybe because he sees Light players all as extensions of Rose herself?)

Anyway yeah this is def the story metaphor I think we’re going to see in this, but Kanaya doesn’t fully get it, she thinks the story refers to herself and Rose

DAVE: that seems kind of wack for a kids story

KANAYA: Its Possible I Am Projecting Slightly In This Specific Circumstances

KANAYA: It Was Just A Metaphor

KANAYA: But In A Way I Feel As If It Is the Greater Universe Trying To Tell Me Something

KANAYA: It May Simply Stem From My Longing To See Her Again And How Much Is Indicative Of Something More Sinister

Which is cool because it makes this opposing connection between Dirk and Kanaya as opposites, which I like because it solidifies a tiny bit more the idea of Sylph being Passive Create to A Prince’s Active destroy.

Oh yeah, there was a tiny hint of Mind metaphor as well, can’t forget Terezi is with them

KANAYA: How The Worlds In Each Ones Mind Take On Contours Shaped By Their Memories Of The Other

KANAYA: Places And Moments And Orbiting Passersby Becoming More and More Entangled In The Context Of Their Mutual Affections

KANAYA: Such As With A Garden Calling To Mind An Engagement Once Declared There

Basically the idea that your experiences of a person and your memories of them shape who they become as well, the boundary between you and I is controlled by both of us, so each has an effect of the personality Heart of the other through our own decisions and Mind

like the way people tend to mimic those they like and want to be close to, or the way they actively try to distance themselves and what they are like from those they hate

But that at all seems to be more about Mind in general than referring to anything specifically Terezi

though it is exactly that understanding of Mind versus Heart and how one affects the other that could make Dirk realize that in the question of the self he’s only had half the picture the whole time, he’s only had the understanding of Heart and has thus far not been able to understand how Mind plays a role in the sustaining of the self, how what other people do to help you to be you, which is his entire philosophical conundrum

“DAVE: the dude youve spent the last 7 years convincing yourself isnt an egomaniacal anime villain

DAVE: and who isnt actually lying in wait to completely decimate your life and your emotions and shit“

oh, that makes me sad, this is def bringing up some bad trains of thought for Dave ):

“ KARKAT: KANAYA BARELY EVEN TALKS, CALLIOPE WON’T LEAVE THEIR CABIN, JADE JUST FLOATS AROUND LIKE A CREEPY BALLOON THAT’S MOSTLY MADE OF HAIR.

OH RIGHT, I forgot Calliope is actually WITH them on their journey, despite seeming to want absolutely fuck all with Jade Callie, I totally thought she was gonna stay back on Earth C but I guess not!

It’s so odd to see them so terrified of their alternate self like this when they’ve interacted mildly before. I still don’t know what to think of that much, other than they seem to be doing that weird thing that the other kids went through, like how John scribbled clowns on the walls unknown to himself for the longest time due to Gamzee’s unseen mental influence

that’s exactly the type of shit Dirk would be afraid of, so I wonder if that’s what Callie was afraid of as well? Maybe its Jade Callie that’s influencing them this way not Gamzee, to scribble strange things on the walls and not come out, but it’s the same fear of the other regardless manifesting and changing the self.

It is a very oddly non social thing for Our Calliope to do, when the point of different between the two Callie’s was how social Calliope was versus how antisocial Jade Callie is. Worries me ): but at least they’re here I guess

KARKAT: SOMETIMES IT ALMOST FEELS LIKE WHATEVER SLATHERING MONSTROSITY OF A COSMIC HELLBEAST THAT PUT ALL THIS SHIT INTO MOTION...ACTUALLY LIKES ME?

ROXY: fucked up if tru

Karkat is really popular as a character in the fandom lol

and that’s that one, time to get to Chapter 4, which has a lot more juicy exposition

With all the Garden of Eden metaphors though I can’t help but think of the Apple of the Garden of Eden when I think of “story exposition” now

The juicy tantalizing forbidden red fruit that when you bit into it you suddenly understand and know things you did not before and you’re eyes are opened, I wonder if that’s enough to just make Apples a solid Symbol of Light in Homestuck’s context? Most of it’s association with knowledge is external to Homestuck, just referenced symbolically, it’s not actually used in any cirumstances pertaining to knowledge, but more as the metaphor of it being the gate to leave the garden of eden, more like a teleporter, Rapture and Revelation in general rather than just Knowledge itself

aka my new headcanon is that one thing needed to Alchemize a Transportalizer is inexplicably going to be an Apple, if that ever comes up at all

#Homesquared #Homestuck^2 #Dirk Strider #Rose Lalonde #Terezi Pyrope #Apples are the essence of Portal Technology #long post

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onlycags · 4 years

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Beer Challenge | Çağlar Söyüncü

Confession: this is mostly a love letter to my girls @words-for-marcus @sweetlikesugar9 @comfortablechaox and @vandijksthighs so be warned. There is also a video that accompanies this but I can’t link it so if you’d like me to send it to you please DM (or go through my likes - you should know it when you see it lol). Shoutout to @vandijksthighs for encouraging this and to @spursondele @chocolate-frogs @idiotsfc @lionspridetingz and @eastxfeden for reading this and giving me your thoughts! <3 As for Si, Loz and Liv: please don’t hate me for this aha

Word Count: 3,058 >_<

- - -

It was a beautiful sunny day in Barcelona and the guys had decided to rent a yacht for the day. You and their girlfriends had insisted that just spending time on the beach was fine but they didn’t listen. Initially, you had rolled your eyes at the lavish yacht, but you were quickly warming up to it.

You and the girls were laying out on the bow, enjoying the warm rays of the sun while the yacht went a little far into the water to get away from the crowds of people. The timer on your phone went off and you rolled to your stomach to get an even tan, lost in your own little world.

Çağlar watched you from his place on the yacht, his mind racing. You and he were the only two single people on this trip and he was hoping to come out of it with at least a date with you. So far, all that had happened between the two of you was a couple stilted conversations that had thankfully been interrupted by Harvey, Ben, James or one of their girlfriends.

Your laugh brought Çağlar out of his thoughts and he watched as you said something to the girls and got up. “Margaritas, anyone?” You asked, looking over at Ben and James who nodded. You bounded down the bow, your fingers brushing over Çağlar’s arm as you made eye contact with him. “What about you, Çağlar?” You asked, your voice low.

“Evet,” he murmured, nodding. You gave him a bright smile and Çağlar swore he could see a blush on your cheeks that hadn’t been there before.

A few minutes later you returned, pitcher of margaritas in hand. Everyone gathered round while you poured the drinks, handing each frozen glass to someone. Your breath hitched when your hands brushed Çağlar’s as you handed him his glass and you hoped he hadn’t heard.

You watched with a hint of jealousy as James looped his tattooed arm around his girl Si’s shoulders. She giggled when he pressed a kiss to her temple and you had to suppress a noise of disgusted jealousy. Ben grabbed Loz by the wrist and pulled her into his lap, earning himself a playful annoyed slap at the potential possibility of spilled margarita that had him laughing. Harvey tried to get a reaction out of Liv by trying to dip his finger in her drink but all he got was a glare harsher than the sun that had you smiling at their odd dynamic that seemed to fit them perfectly.

“Do you mind?” You asked Çağlar as you sat down next to him, comfortably putting your feet across his thighs. All he could do was shake his head, silently praying you stayed where you were.

All eight of you sat around, talking and laughing while sipping your drinks. James had pulled up funny Tik Toks and was going through them. “Now, this is something I’d like to see,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at Si as he clicked on the video.

The video started out with three girls in bikinis, a man’s hand holding a can of beer off-camera. Beer poured out down the first girl’s tits and into the second girl’s mouth while another can of beer did the same thing off the second girl into the third girl’s mouth.

“You’re insane if you think we’re doing that,” Liv scoffed, draining her margarita. Harvey ruffled her hair and she stuck her tongue out at him, a bit of a smile peeking through, though.

Both Ben and James were looking at Loz and Si expectantly, both girls with varying reactions. Loz was silent, a shocked expression on her face as she sipped her marg, not meeting her boyfriend’s gaze. Si seemed to be contemplating the pros and cons of getting beer on her new swimsuit she’d been gushing about since you all got on the yacht.

“This is crazy,” you spoke up, setting your margarita on the table as you stood up and walked over to the cooler full of beer. “Çağlar, you in?” You asked as you pulled out two cans of beer and sauntered back.

Çağlar’s eyes went wide in surprise and you could practically feel everyone’s eyes on you. “Sure,” he replied, trying to remain nonchalant.

“Perfect,” you said, shooting him a devilish grin. “I only have one condition: you do me and I do you.”

“Oh, hell yes!” James shouted, clapping his hands like an excited child. “I’m here for this!”

You bent over, giving Çağlar the perfect view of your ass as you pulled your long hair back into a ponytail. When you stood back up, you shot him a grin over your shoulder. “What are you waiting for? Stand up - I’m on my knees first.”

It took all of Çağlar’s willpower and concentration in order to not get hard at the sight of you on your knees for him.

You focused on the man in front of you, trying to slow your breathing so he couldn’t see just how badly it was affecting you to be on your knees like this looking up at him through your lashes. The sound of James popping open a can brought you back to reality and you shot Çağlar one last cheeky grin before bracing yourself on him. His ‘4’ chain gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight and in any other circumstance you probably would have laughed at his ridiculously-short swim trunks. One hand landed on the script inked on his side, the other on the ‘V’ of his hips and you swore you saw his abs tighten as he sucked in a breath.

Çağlar gasped as the cold beer hit his chest and trailed down. All the shouts of your friends seemed to fade as you slurped the beer from his chest, your tongue swirling over his belly button at the beer that pooled there. Çağlar couldn’t help the fact that his hands fisted in your hair as the sensations raced over him and he hoped that nobody heard him groan.

“My turn,” you croaked, popping up from your knees as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Fuck,” James cut in, shaking his head. “That was so hot.” He turned his attention to Si for a brief moment. “Babe, you sure you don’t wanna try this?”

“In a minute,” Si mused, her gaze trained on you and Çağlar. “Gotta see how this ends.”

“Don’t know how you’re not fucking tenting in your shorts right now, mate,” James commented crudely, his hands briefly brushing over his dick. “Lil Madders might end up making an appearance here soon.”

You were vaguely aware of Si making some comment about her boyfriend’s ‘junk’ and Liv covering her eyes in mock-disgust, but with Çağlar’s hands on your body you could barely think. His mouth was obscenely close to your tits and your brain was keenly aware of the fact that with one well-placed tug your bikini top would be off and you could have Çağlar’s mouth on your bare tits instead.

“Hold on,” Çağlar interrupted right before James was about to open and pour the beer. He shifted so he was kneeling on one knee, pulling you down to sit down on his powerful thigh so he had even better access to your tits. “Much better,” he murmured, his gaze flicking briefly from your eyes back downward.

“Oh, shit,” you heard Ben hoot out as he and Harvey high-fived at Çağlar’s bold move.

You turned into Çağlar, bracing your hands on his broad shoulders, vaguely aware that your nails were probably going to be digging into bits of the lion’s mane inked on his back. You couldn’t help the breathy squeal that left your lips when the cold beer hit your tits and you involuntarily pressed your chest closer to Çağlar’s lips. He held onto you on either side of your tits, his thumbs dangerously close to sliding up underneath your bikini top. You felt his grip on you tighten and you bit down on your bottom lip to stop the moan that desperately wanted to escape.

All too soon the beer was gone and you were barely able to breathe, especially when Çağlar looked up at you with his face still buried in your tits. Time moved slowly as your eyes searched his, both of you holding your true feelings back for a myriad of reasons.

You were dragged out of your bubble with Çağlar when motion caught your gaze. Si and Loz were both rooting through the cooler, excited chatter flying between them as they planned their own versions. “Are you ever going to let me go?” You asked playfully, your voice still a bit thick with lust.

Çağlar released you quickly and you didn’t miss the blush that coloured his cheeks as he helped you up. “Sorry,” he muttered, his eyes not meeting yours.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, one hand resting on his chest. You didn’t want to move it just yet, loving the feeling of Çağlar’s rapid heartbeat under your palm but you did anyway, not wanting to torture yourself much longer. “Liv, you gonna get in on the action?” You asked, turning your attention to Harvey’s girlfriend and shooting her a cheeky grin.

“Maybe,” she replied cryptically, giving Harvey a look. In a flash, he was bounding over to the cooler and grabbing a beer, arguing with Liv about who was going to get doused in beer for the other’s arousal.

You sat back down and watched the chaos ensue. James was man-spreading as he lounged back in his seat, Si kneeling between his legs as Ben poured the beer down James’s chest. “Are you sure you won’t let me return the favour?” James asked again when the beer can was empty. Si shook her head but leaned in to whisper something in his ear that had him nodding while grinning eagerly as he pulled her into his lap and kissed her deeply.

Çağlar surprised you by sitting back down next to you, silently slipping his arm around your shoulders. Your stomach fluttered at his touch and you tried to hide the goofy grin on your face as you watched Liv pour beer over Loz so Ben could slurp the cold liquid as he buried his face in his girlfriend’s tits. Both of them were breathing heavily when Ben came up for air and it wasn’t even a second later before Loz was leaning down to kiss him.

“Need a hand?” You asked, your gaze shifting between Liv and Harvey, intrigued to see how this would go down. You watched as Liv and Harvey had a low, heated discussion that ended with her smiling and pulling Harvey away from everyone else, the two of them so wrapped up in each other that the rest of the world didn’t seem to exist.

You took a moment to study Çağlar from underneath the safety of your sunglasses. The Turk had always intrigued you and now that you’d gotten the opportunity to put your mouth on him, you desperately wanted more. He always seemed so serious and there was a part of you that wanted to break through that rough exterior and find out what was underneath. You went to drink the rest of your margarita to find it already gone and made a disappointed noise in the back of your throat that caught Çağlar’s attention. “Are you okay?” He asked, his voice low.

You nodded, shivers racing down your spine at the timbre of his voice. “I’ll be back,” you said as you got up and went to the galley to make more margaritas. With shaking hands you measured out the ingredients and put them in the blender. “Fuck,” you murmured when you pressed the button to start the blender but nothing happened.

“Do you need some help?” Came Çağlar’s voice, making you jump and turn around.

“Maybe,” you replied, trying to keep your voice even. “I think there’s something wrong with the blender.”

You gasped as you felt Çağlar reach around you and try something. His bare chest was flush against your back and you could feel his chain pressing into your mid-back, the warm metal sending goosebumps racing across your body. “Do you need me to move?” You asked, trying to keep your breathing even.

“No, I should have it.” Çağlar was easily a head taller than you and it was hard not to feel both safe and sexy in his arms simultaneously.

“I think it’s just broken, Çağlar,” you said, sighing. Blended margaritas were better than iced ones in your opinion but you could make do. He stepped back to let you turn around and when you did you found yourself face-to-face with him in the galley. “Hi,” you whispered, a small smile on your face as you looked up at him.

“Hi,” he replied, the look in his eyes from earlier returning as he finally had the chance to be alone with you.

You took a step toward him, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “Sorry if I made things awkward ear-”

“You didn’t,” he rumbled, pinning you between himself and the counter. “Siktir, seni çok istiyorum,” Çağlar cursed before threading his fingers through your hair and kissing you deeply. Fuck, I want you so badly.

You kissed him back with just as much fervor, swallowing his moans of approval that ended up in your mouth. By the time the kiss ended, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against one another as your breaths mixed together. Before you could stop yourself, your hand was reaching for his chain, mesmerised by the feel of it underneath your fingertips. Çağlar let out a low growl, his hand coming up to grab your wrist.

“Been thinking about how I wanna fuck you while you wear my chain around your neck,” he said, using his other hand to take it off his neck and place it on yours. The 4 fit perfectly in-between the valley of your breasts and Çağlar’s eyes darkened with arousal when he noticed. “Çok güzelsin,” he mused, his calloused hands sliding up your torso to cup your tits. So beautiful. You whimpered and arched your back, making him chuckle. He leaned down to kiss your neck, smiling as he heard your breath hitch at the feeling of his lips on your skin. “Normally, I would have patience and I would take my time,” he started, nibbling on your earlobe. “But not today.” He untied your bikini top, finally baring your breasts to him. In a flash, he had you seated on the counter, your legs spread so he could stand between them.

“Çağlar, please!” You begged as he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth while his thumb brushed over the other to send the sensation straight to your clit.

“Love seeing you with my number on you,” he growled, tugging on the chain to make you gasp. Your skin felt like it was on fire and you couldn’t get enough of the man in front of you.

“Just fuck me already,” you pleaded, tangling your fingers in his hair.

Çağlar smirked at you, one hand sliding between your legs so he could push your bikini bottoms to the side. You let out a low whine as you felt his knuckle brush across your sensitive clit. He freed his cock from his swim trunks and your eyes went wide. His veiny cock was already rock-hard and pulsing, the tip leaking precum as he stroked it. You spread your legs wider, placing your feet on the edge of the counter to give Çağlar access to your dripping cunt.

Both of you let out a moan when he finally slid into you, going slow so you could feel every inch of him. Your walls clenched around his length and you saw Çağlar’s expression tighten at the pleasure your pussy was bringing him. He got impatient, grabbing you by the hips and thrusting into you hard and fast, burying himself balls-deep inside you. The chain bounced between the two of you as Çağlar pounded into you, the only sounds in the galley your moans and the skin-to-skin contact as he fucked you mercilessly.

Your nails raked down the lion inked on his back, your face buried in the crook of his neck. Çağlar had a hand fisted in your hair and you loved the feeling it evoked every time he tugged on it. You moaned his name, begging him to kiss you and he eagerly obliged, his tongue tangling with yours as he did so.

It didn’t take long after that for Çağlar to get close to his orgasm, your pussy spasming around his cock in ways that had him almost incoherent. He found your clit and circled it, smirking with pride as you mewled and pressed closer to him. “Cum for me,” he murmured, the gravel in his voice scraping deliciously over your skin to send you right over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm that triggered his own.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, panting. “That was…”

Çağlar gave you a knowing grin, pressing another quick kiss to your lips. “I wanna taste your pussy next,” he promised and your cunt clenched around his dick at his dirty words. “Don’t do that,” he warned, his grip on your hips tightening.

“Or what?” You challenged, repeating the action and Çağlar groaned. “You’ll spank me?”

“I just might have to,” he rasped, the edge in his voice telling you he was serious, but he pulled out of you before he could make good on his word right this moment. “We better get back - I’m sure everyone’s looking for us.”

You couldn’t stop the blush that stained your cheeks as you and Çağlar returned from the galley. Both James and Ben shot you knowing looks, but you also knew that they’d had some much-needed alone time with their girls. Liv and Harvey were still nowhere to be found, but when the two finally returned they were in much the same state as you and Çağlar.

“Anyone up for another round?” James asked, popping open another beer with a grin on his face. Everyone laughed and shook their heads, content to just lounge around and enjoy the rest of the day on the yacht.

#cags writing #cags originals

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fruit-teeth · 5 years

Note

For the hurt/comfort prompts, number 5 with Scout as person B. Person A is anyone you like. I dont care just ... dad Scout is needed.

(UghkssiahiaolhGjgsv I got carried away with this because dad Scout fuels my soul...also I hope you don’t mind but I made the other person Sniper because that was the only other person I could think of!!! Anyway please enjoy!!)

5. In the middle of some kind of tense situation, B has to help A give birth to their baby.

Scout finished filling up the van with gasoline after some trial and error, since the act of filing the camper’s tank was usually Sniper’s job. But Sniper was already getting their breakfast in the cafe just nearby, so Scout had to fill the tank instead.

He sighed, looking towards the cafe and squinting. Sniper was taking an awful long time...they had to be back at the base within half an hour. What could possibly be keeping him?

Scout walked into the cafe, but he didn’t see Sniper around anywhere. Panic began to set in, so he got the attention of the cashier at the counter.

“Hey, lady,” Scout flagged her down, and she approached. “You see a tall, kinda skinny guy come in? He had on some shades and a hat— he was gonna order breakfast to go,”

The woman thought for a moment, before nodding. “Oh, yes! He went into the bathroom, I think. I have the meal in the bag already for when he comes out,”

Scout’s brow furrowed at that, and he glanced towards the bathroom. “Well, okay— thanks for holdin’ it, I’ll go see what his deal is,”

The bathroom was unisex, with only one room, so Scout just knocked on the door. “Snipes?” He called. “You in? We gotta get goin’ pretty soon...”

There was a long silence, and then Sniper replied from the other side of the door. “I-I’ll only be a minute longer...promise,”

His voice sounded unsteady and almost pained, and right away Scout sensed something was off. He pressed to the door, and he asked, “Is everything okay in there?” He lowered his voice a notch. “You need me to come in?”

Even though Medic had told them that Sniper wasn’t due for another three weeks, roughly, Scout still had a nagging fear that the contractions would start at an impromptu point. Sniper had assured him that everything would be fine, that the baby wasn’t going to come early, but it didn’t stop Scout from imagining otherwise.

Sniper went quiet again, and then the next sound Scout heard was the door unlocking. Scout entered, peeking inside, before he shut the door behind him and locked it. “What’s up?”

Sniper wasn’t on the toilet, rather he was standing and holding the sides of his stomach, rocking his heels uneasily. “Something isn’t right...” he blew out a breath, pressing his hand to his left side. “Something just...feels off,”

Scout went to his side immediately, placing a hand on Sniper’s rounded belly while his free hand caressed his shoulder. “Does it hurt?” he wanted to know, smoothing his hand the area carefully. Sniper’s muscles felt very tense, he noticed.

“Well...” Sniper pursed his lips together, unsure of how to articulate what he was feeling. “It does— but it doesn’t hurt that bad...” he swallowed. “I hope I’m not having contractions,”

“Yeah...” Scout pulled him close, kissing his cheek. “Let’s just get back to the van, okay? We got a breakfast waiting, and we gotta be back at the base real soon, y’know?”

Sniper nodded, wearily straightening up and stretching. He looked so odd whenever he stretched: the action always elongated his body even further, and now with the pregnancy his stomach looked hilariously out of place on his frame. “All right...lets head back out, then,”

They grabbed the breakfast bag and got back into the van, and Scout decided to drive since Sniper wasn’t feeling up to it. As they headed off down the road, though, Sniper’s condition woresened.

At first, it didn’t seem like anything was wrong, as Sniper was just his quiet self while Scout turned on the radio to find some good tunes to listen to. However, it was only a few minutes later when Sniper grimaced visibly and grunted, grabbing the arm rests of the seat.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped, trying to control his breathing. He pursed his lips together, his hand grasping the lower part of his belly. “Fuckin’ hell...”

“Legs?” Scout’s heart started to drop, and he glanced over, eyes full of concern. “Babe, are you okay? Do I need to pull over?”

Sniper shook his head quickly. “N-no - focus on the road, please,”

“Oh,” Scout jolted, suddenly aware that the van had begun to drift out of his control. He settled his hands back on the steering wheel, but he kept an eye on Sniper. “Seriously, I can pull over any time,”

“I’ll be fine...” Sniper blew a long breath out of his nostrils, his nails still digging into the arm rests. “Just...keeping driving,”

They drove along for about another fifteen minutes, with Sniper occasionally groaning in pain and Scout trying to offer words of comfort and encouragement whenever he could.

It was then, though, when Sniper let out a sharp cry, nearly doubling over. “Oh, fuck!”

Scout whirled around to check on Sniper, and he reached over to grab his shoulder. “Hey, what happened?!”

Sniper opened his legs slightly, and he pressed his eyes shut. “No...ugh! Shit— the water broke! I’m—!” He suddenly looked up and shrieked, diving for the steering wheel. “Scout, the road!”

Scout yelped, barely having time to react as the van veered off the side of the road, skidding down the hill and into a patch of shrubbery, coming to rest within the thick vegetation. The force of the whole ordeal had the airbags going off, knocking the wind out of Scout and forcing a choked shout from Sniper.

After a moment of gathering their thoughts, the two men clambered out from beneath the oppressive airbags, grabbing each other tightly without saying anything for a while.

Finally, Sniper managed to grit out, “Jeremy— please, please call Engie and ask him to come out here and tow the van back to the base, because—!” He paused, inhaling sharply and grabbing his belly again. “Oh, god...”

Scout touched Sniper’s stomach with concern, before reaching up and placing a hand on his face. “Babe, do you need to lie down? God, I-I’m so fuckin’ sorry about all this, that was my bad, I screwed up majorly, I...”

Sniper cried out, his voice shrill and sharp, and he turned to hurriedly open the door to the living area of the camper, stumbling inside. “Shut up! It’s coming!”

The words snapped Scout back into reality, and he shook himself, trailing after Sniper and into the back of the camper. “What!? Right now!? Snipes—!”

Sniper came to rest by the counters, gripping the tile and groaning. After a moment, he shoved his pants and briefs down, breathing laboriously as he reached between his legs to feel. Scout hovered anxiously over him, unsure of what to do except rub his back and gingerly kiss the back of his neck.

“Jeremy,” Sniper gasped out after a moment, lifting his head. “C-check down there, can you see how close the head is?”

“Uh— okay!” Scout knelt on the floor, squinting up between Sniper’s legs. “Um...there’s...oh, my god!” he exclaimed, finally fully understanding what he was seeing. “That’s a freakin’ baby! The head is like— there!”

“What!?” Sniper shrieked again, trying to feel for himself before realizing Scout was right. “Oh, oh, god!” He felt another contraction spread through his abdomen, and he knew then what he needed to do. “You’re gonna need to catch it!”

Scout retracted his hands, anxiety spreading throughout his whole chest and seizing him, yet he muscled through it all and took a deep breath. “Okay!” He took a deep breath, placing his hands beneath the top of the baby’s head that he could see, trying to stop his hands from shaking so much. “I...I got it!”

With the next contraction, Sniper gripped the counter again and pushed hard, and he tried his best not to cry out again but a whimper still escaped his mouth.

Scout heard him, and he tried his best to comfort him. “H-hey, it’s okay! It’s gonna come out any second, keep goin’!”

Sniper just nodded, a bit dazed, and he pushed again, groaning in agony. “F-fuck!”

There was another gush of fluid, and Scout had to keep himself from shouting in surprise when the baby’s head was finally in his hands. When Sniper pushed a third time, the shoulders slipped free, and then Scout just pulled the baby completely out, trying to be as gentle as possible with the tiny body.

“It’s out!” He informed Sniper, who sagged boneless on the countertop in a panting heap.

Sniper caught his breath, and he lifted his head after a moment. “H-how is it? I don’t hear any crying...”

Scout didn’t answer, laying the baby on his lap, and he stuck his fingers into the nose and mouth to clear the airways. “C’mon, lil’ buddy,” Scout coaxed the baby softly, waiting anxiously for some kind of response. “C’mon— you gotta breathe, okay? C’mon...”

Finally, after a few excruciating moments, the baby started to whine pitifully before breaking into a full cry, color filling the little face. Scout’s lip trembled at the sight, and he began to tear up. “Thank god! Oh, listen to you...” he cradled the little one in his arms, kissing their forehead. “Hey, hey, it’s okay! I got you, daddy’s right here, okay?”

Sniper finally turned away from the counter, easing onto the floor with a loud, relieved sigh. He smiled, watching Scout bond with the baby for a moment before he shifted closer, peering in to look at the baby he’d just brought into the world. “Lemme see...”

Scout sniffled, tears still rolling down his cheeks as he handed the infant over to Sniper. “Oh my god...she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life! She’s so little and cute— did we really make something so tiny and cute!?”

Sniper took the baby into his arms, letting out a little laugh as he stroked her head, watching as her little cries dissipated into small whimpers. “Hi,” he greeted her in a soft voice. “Hi...thank you for coming out of me,” he sniffed, pressing a kiss to her head. “Even if you’re a little early...”

Scout wiped his eyes, his breath shaky. “She’s ours...oh, my god, she’s ours!”

“She is,” Sniper put an arm around Scout’s shoulders, pulling him close for a kiss. “I...I love you so much,”

Scout eagerly kissed back, holding Sniper and their daughter as close to his chest as he could. “I love you too! You’re so strong— I knew you could do it!”

Sniper rolled his eyes, but he chuckled, turning to nuzzle Scout’s cheek. “Thank you...” he paused, before adding, “We should really call Engie, now,”

“Oh...” Scout pulled away, and he cleared his throat. “Uh, y-yeah, but shouldn’t we clean you guys up first?”

“Eh, I guess you’re right,” Sniper shrugged, and he pinched the umbilical cord to twist it off. “I can do that, though, you go make the call,”

“Okay,” Scout leaned in to kiss Sniper’s forehead, before leaning in to kiss their new daughter. “We’re gonna get you out of here, lil’ pumpkin!” He cooed at her, smiling fondly as he rubbed her little cheek. “We got nice toys and blankies waiting all for you, I promise!”

Sniper smiled back, and he took a moment to brush his tears away. “You’re gonna spoil her, aren’t you?”

“Only the best for this lil’ ball of cute!” Scout crooned, poking her nose, and she grunted at him. “Aww, baby...” he sat up, before reaching for the phone. “Can’t wait to brag about her to everyone!”

“Me neither,” Sniper pulled down a towel from the counter, bundling the baby in it and shushing her when she started to fuss again. “C’mon, Joey, you’re okay...you’re okay, both your daddies are here, and we’re gonna get you home soon,”

#tf2 #my writing #writing #GOD this one makes my heart soft #just #ugh #i love #tf2 sniper #tf2 scout #tf2 sniperscout #speeding bullet #mpreg #pregnancy tw #childbirth tw #dysphoria tw #i tag everything just in case

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deepestgooppeachnickel · 4 years

Text

One Small Island

Spinel x reader part 1

Ok so, this is my first proper fanfic so sorry if it’s bad. Enjoy! (Also feel free to ask me things to happen and give constructive criticism)

It wasn’t the best place to be in summer, but it payed the bills. You’ve been working at the big donut for a few months now. It’s not the worst, I mean at least it has air conditioning, pays alright and there’s free donuts and coffee.

“Hey! Y/n!” You hear a familiar voice call from out the front of the counter. It was Mr Smiley. “I’m sorry if I interrupted your little nap but you have a job to do!” Nothing you do will change how he’s right, anyways if you argue you might be in a fair bit of trouble.

After work you decide it’s time to visit an old friend. When you arrive at Stevens house you realise the cars not there, but instead a gaping hole. ‘What the hell happened here’ the thought rattles in your brain as you look up at the temple.

On closer inspection you start to see a short silhouette, ‘that must be Steven!’. As you ran up the hill everything is clearer, there’s an injector? ‘Ew, it’s got that pink stuff I saw in the hole before’. Before you know it a small bouncy gem hops off of the odd machine.

She pounces at Steven and the gems. You’re unsure of what to do but before you could think you yelled something you didn’t believe “Hey!”. You immediately regret catching the magenta gems attention but you may as well go all out. “Yeah you! Ya can’t just jump at my friends like that! Its common sense!”. There’s pure rage in the gems eyes. She’s now standing upon the lighthouse.

“Stop it! I don’t need you getting hurt y/n, I already have enough to deal with!” Steven growled at you with a mixture of fear and annoyance in his tone.

After a couple of seconds you notice that the peculiar gem was no longer on the lighthouse but rather straddling you. You didn’t realise that she was cornering you, stopping you from protecting Steven.

“Huh, so your name is y/n. Listen here toots ima make a deal with ya, you keep your life by coming with me and forgetting these powerless losers or you can stay and hmm, well, how should I saw this? Die!” The nerve of this slinky of a gem was unbelievable. “Toots!?” You yell clearly startled. You once again earn the attention of the gem, “You have bigger things to worry about than just pet names doll”.

You start to fluster a deep red as the gem still layes on top of you, her elbows digging into your chest. You have to admit it hurt, a lot but you can’t stop a little pain from helping your friends.

The tall but stretchy figure who was laying on you stood up. One her gem started to glow, she pulled out a weapon. It’s sort of like a scythe but it was pink and made out of a glowing electric material home world weapons are made out of.

Before you knew it, the mysterious gem had the gems of pearl, garnet and amethyst. She also took a few swings at Steven who keep in mind was still sitting on the ground with a shocked look on his face. “W-why isn’t it working!?” Steven had a slight tremble in his voice. “My powers are gone? What did you do to me?!”.

“Aww, it seems like lil’ ol’ Steven misses his friends” hissed the pink gem. She throws the gems in Stevens face. ‘To bad he doesn’t poof’ the gem in question looked like she had calmed down enough to talk to her. But before you can speak Steven takes the chance instead. “What do you want from us?” “Well, before I came here I wanted to kill you” Steven was shaking but not as much as you. “Well, what know?” He blurts out.

“I want y/n” you felt your heart sink at the statement.

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ronyxfic · 5 years

Text

Educating the Victim - Act VI, Chapter XXII

Pairing: -

Rating: Mature

Warnings/Tags: alcohol, discussion of mental illness.

CHAPTER 22: Impulse

It was getting late. Pearl caught the clock in the corner of her eye just as her belly let out a loud rumble.

She entertained the idea of skipping dinner for far longer than she should have. The idea of potentially running into Greg was daunting.

But she’d barely eaten all day, and she needed to be better than that. So with a sigh, she resolved, at around 10pm, to go down to the kitchen. Surely it was late enough that she wouldn’t encounter anyone.

Greg was in the living room, assembling what appeared to be a box of records. He glanced up as he saw her descend the stairs, and offered a smile. "Oh, hey, Pearl! You still up?"

Pearl resisted the urge to grimace. “Hi, Greg,” she said. “Uh, just getting some food. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

"You can stay in my hair. I've had to accept things getting tangled up in it." He looked a little taken aback, frowning despite a kind tone. "I was figuring that maybe we could get to know one another since you're gonna be here for a while."

“Uh...”

Pearl hesitated and turned to face him instead of darting into the kitchen, out of sight. “I mean, sure, I guess. It’s late now, though, so not today. I should probably head to bed anyway.” The temptation to turn tail and go back to her room was hard to resist. “I’m just gonna make some food first.”

"Oh, alright!" Greg didn't seem to catch the discomfort in her voice. "You free tomorrow evening? I could dig out some board games from storage. Hey, we could do halfsies on a pizza!"

“Oh. Uh. I think I’m over at my friend’s place tomorrow.” No plans had been made, but Amethyst was probably down, and Pearl didn’t want to make concrete plans with Greg.

"Oh, okay! My week after that is a lil sketchy. I got some gigs that haven't been given a time yet. How's about you text me when you're free?"

“Oh! Yeah, that would work. I have exams now, though, so I don’t know when I’m free.” The answer was probably never. “Anyway, gonna make food now. You, uh, want anything?”

"Oh! Sure, fetch me a root beer." He gave her a big smile. "Can't wait! I'll try to dig up something interesting for it. What games do you like?"

Pearl stuck her head out of the kitchen. “Anything, really,” she said, “I guess stuff you can play with two people.”

Bless him, he was really trying.

Pearl was not in the mood to socialise with Rose’s partner, though.

"I can accommodate that. What are ya making?"

“Oh. Just some toast.”

"Okay! Lemme know how we're doing for bread. Rose said she'd send some money for shopping next week." He resumed flipping through the records, and rearranging their order in the stack.

“Okay,” Pearl said, feeling like this particular interaction was over. Well, that was something, at least.

There was a curt knock on Rose's door. Marigold's voice seemed rather quiet "Rose? I was wondering if you wanted to go and eat. I'm not sure when the restaurant closes, but I think it's best to go sooner rather than later."

Rose, who just got done freshening up, opened the door. “Oh, hey! I was just about to go out and look for food. Have you found your appetite?”

"Yes. It might help with the mood and... it would be foolish to go looking for Roxy without sustenance."

Rose checked her phone. “It’s eight now,” she said. “Where should we go?”

"Hmm." Marigold looked to the door. "Downstairs?"

“Might as well,” Rose said. She grabbed her purse. “You ready now?”

"Yeah." Marigold walked to the door. "You have a key?"

“Yup. Let’s go.”

A few moments later, they found themselves by the restaurant, where a very sheepish waitress told them in heavily accented English that they stopped serving food at eight.

"Okay. Change of plans." Marigold clapped her hands together. "Why don't we go to some place outside? I'm sure it could be lovely."

“... yeah, okay,” Rose said. “Do you know if there’s any places nearby?”

Marigold awkwardly rubbed her arm. "I don't know if I even want to leave. I'm nervous about bumping into her."

“We’re just going out for food. What are the odds of us running into a wanted criminal at a quiet restaurant while we’re just having dinner? It’ll be fine.”

Marigold was silent for a moment before nodding. "I suppose you're right. Want me to Google what's nearby?"

“Yeah, sure,” Rose said. “Or maybe the staff here have recommendations?”

"You could ask," Marigold said, tapping on her phone.

“I’d feel awkward, after earlier,” Rose said. She then spied some leaflets in a familiar language. “Oh, hey! This has a map of the town, with restaurants and recommendations!”

Her eyes flickered over the symbol indicating a casino. Only one in the entire town.

"Anything good? My internet is being a bit spotty."

Rose skimmed the reviews. “This one sounds nice!”

On the map, it was dangerously close to the casino. “Though, maybe not. Uh. There’s another one that looks like it’s really close to the hotel. Here?” She showed Marigold the map, pointing to the restaurant she’d scouted out.

Marigold tilted her head. "Hm. I like the look of the other one. Maybe a walk might help my nerves."

Rose bit her lip. Nothing’s going to happen. You’re going to the restaurant, not the casino.

“Alright then,” she said.

"I take it that I won't have to spend the night babysitting your drunk behind." Marigold nudged her playfully as she walked out of the door.

“Oh, absolutely not. I’m not having any alcohol. ...maybe some wine with dinner, but that’s all, really.”

Marigold cocked a brow. "Alright. If you say so."

The restaurant was about fifteen minutes away. It was loosely populated, and they managed to get a table near the window.

“Now here comes the real challenge,” Rose said as the menus were being brought. “These aren’t in English.”

"Oh, no!" Marigold laughed. "I do suppose we'll have to hope we see something familiar."

Rose had a look at the menu. “Well, I know what ‘pizza margherita’ means,” she said, “maybe it’s not that bad after all. Oh, they have lots of wine.”

"Pollo is chicken, yes?" Marigold glanced at her own. "I wouldn't mind some pasta."

They ordered their food, and Rose couldn’t resist ordering one of the red wines. It was just one glass.

“So, do you think we should go out to look for her tomorrow?” she asked after the waiter was gone.

"Yes. Absolutely." Marigold swallowed, her face displayed signs of distress at the thought. "We only have a few days. Any hour we don't use is an hour closer for interpol."

“Very true,” Rose said. Their drinks came, and Rose had a sip of the red wine. “Oh, that is delicious. ...I’d offer you some, but you’re teetotal, aren’t you?”

Marigold sipped at a flute of fizzy water. "I'm alright, thanks. It's nearly been six months since I stopped."

“Impressive. I should probably stop as well. But wine is so good.” Rose had another sip.

"That it is." Marigold put her glass down. "A couple of glasses tended to get me just the right kind of adventurously tipsy. It's the spirits that cause trouble."

“Well, they’re good if all you want is to forget everything,” Rose said. “Like last night. I knew it was a bad idea, and I did it anyway.”

"Tell me about it. Funnily enough, all I ever drank with Roxy was shot upon shot and barely remembered anything in the mornings."

Rose grimaced. “I know we had this discussion earlier, but she must’ve done it on purpose. She did it with me.”

Marigold glanced away, touching her neck in an awkward way. "Yes, it's been on my mind a lot."

“Are you worried that something... bad might’ve happened that you don’t remember?”

"Yeah. I suppose I am." Her voice was dry.

“Hmm.” Rose frowned, had more wine. “Really, we can’t go from here without Roxy. She’s the one who’s got the answers, and without her, you’ll never know what happened.”

"Oh yes, that'll really help us to get her to give herself up peacefully." Marigold rolled her eyes. "'Oh, hello, Roxy! Long time, no see! Could you come with us? Also, did you do things to me without consent while I was blackout drunk that night ten or so years ago? You know?' That'll go really well."

“Well, finding her would be a place to start,” Rose said. “Everything else will have to wait. And... honestly, I have no idea how to talk to her. I mean, there’s kind of an entire unfinished court case between us.”

"I guess that's why I'm here!" There was fake jubilation in Marigold’s voice. "To talk to her..."

“Well, what would you say?” Rose said. “Say, you run into her tomorrow morning while out to get lunch or something. What do you say?”

Marigold laughed. "What would I even? Hm... 'Hello, Roxy. There's an interpol search on you. Come with me if you want to live.'"

“Huh, sounds a bit like blackmail to me. You sure that’ll go down well?”

"It's the truth, isn't it?"

“I suppose.” Rose sighed.

The waiter brought over their food, and Rose hesitated, looking at her pizza.

"What's wrong? It looks good." Marigold grabbed a fork and poked at a large plate of spaghetti.

“It does. I’m just not that hungry.” It wasn’t technically a lie. Rose sighed, then decided to elaborate. “I... she always made me feel guilty about eating. And it’s been five years and I’ve gotten so much better, but all of this shit has just brought everything back up. In some ways, I still feel like she’s watching me, criticising every bite I eat.” She swallowed. “It’s pizza. High calorie. I... I should just eat it. I can’t believe I’m still letting her control me like this.”

Marigold frowned, and then gently put her hand on Rose's. "It's all alright. You should still eat. If anything, you need the calories after vomiting up everything yesterday and barely eating today. Besides, if you really want to spite her for making you feel this way, surely eating should be the best way forward."

Rose sighed once again. “Intellectually, I agree with you. It’s just... hard.” She reluctantly took a bite.

“Actually, never mind, this tastes fantastic,” she said after a few minutes. “God. Italy, right? I’m never touching Domino’s again.”

Marigold chuckled tenderly as she withdrew. "I do understand the difficulty, though. The media and all that doesn't help us ladies with our self image, either. I've seen a lot of girls go through eating problems in my school."

Rose nodded. “Yeah, absolutely. Pearl being one of them, of course. I’m sure you know about that, with her being Aurora’s sister, and all.”

Marigold looked away. "Yes. But I only heard about the whole ordeal after she'd been taken to hospital."

Rose grimaced. “Poor girl. You know, it was the reason I got close to her in the first place. I noticed she had problems... and having gone through it myself, I just wanted to help.”

Marigold couldn't quite meet Rose's eyes. "Yes, I remember you saying so. I would have gotten involved sooner if I hadn't been such a drunk scumbag."

“Well. You’re better now. And so is Pearl. That’s what matters.”

"True. She does look a lot better these days." Marigold gave a nod. "Goodness. I was so cross with her when she returned to retract her statement about you."

“Yeah, I remember her saying you weren’t happy. But I’m still glad she did it.” Rose finished her glass of wine. The waiter appeared by her side, and Rose let him refill her glass.

Marigold watched her. "I thought you weren't going to get as drunk. Not trying to control you or anything, we just can't afford to waste more time hungover."

“Two glasses won’t get me that drunk,” Rose assured her. “And I’m stopping after this one.”

"Alright." Marigold resumed eating her pasta. "My god, these portions are huge."

“Do you think we can take the food away if we don’t finish it? It would be a shame to waste it.” Rose, who had eaten about half of her pizza, picked at the rest, looking worried.

"That depends if you want to ask. I have... a thing with embarrassing myself in front of foreign waiters."

Rose sighed. “Maybe not, then. I don’t speak Italian.”

She hesitated, then picked up another slice.

“Do you think we’re wasting time here?” she said spontaneously.

"I suppose. But we do need to eat and rest."

“I spent half the day asleep. If I hadn’t been hungover, we could probably be on the hunt for Roxy right now.” Rose grimaced. “Maybe we should go after her tonight.”

"Um. I mean... We don't exactly have our equipment and I'm not exactly... emotionally prepared for this." Marigold swallowed.

“You’re never gonna be emotionally prepared. I just... look, we’ve got Interpol on our asses, right? And Azure wants us to get this done as soon as possible. We really don’t have any time to lose, don’t you think?”

Marigold glanced around the room anxiously, her eyes widening. “Are... are we really going to do this now? Oh God. Okay. Where do we even start? That casino?”

“It’s only two streets away. I noticed it on the map before. Here.” Rose pulled out the map and showed Marigold. “This is where we are. And the casino is here.”

“Oh, goodness. And so it is.” Marigold wiped at her brow and let out a nervous laugh. “Alright. Sure. If you’re so motivated, then we could certainly give it a shot. Should we go back home and fetch our equipment? Oh... I don’t even know how my tazer works...”

“Well, we probably won’t even run into her. But we can just scout out the casino. It’s good to familiarise ourselves with the battlefield before the battle starts.” Rose had a spark of fire in her eyes. “I – I don’t know, it’s probably a bad idea. But I just can’t wait any longer. We’ve been here for more than a day already. I just want to get something done, you know?”

Marigold put her cutlery down. “Okay. When you put it that way, I guess it won’t be so bad. I’ve not been inside of casino for a long time, I guess I’m somewhat nervous.”

“You got a history with casinos?”

“I had a...” Marigold coughed awkwardly. “Gambling problem.”

"Oh. I see." Rose shot her a look. "Will I need to keep an eye on you or something? Are you gonna be okay?"

"Oh, no. I doubt I'll start spending any money in there if we're just taking a peek." Marigold tried to wave the anxiety off, but her face remained tense. "I might just get a little bit overwhelmed with the noise."

"Well, we're just having a look around. I doubt we'll be staying long." Rose gave her a smile that was meant to be encouraging; she wasn't quite sure how it turned out. "Alright. Do we need a plan for this, or are we just going in?"

"We're just looking around, Rose." Marigold sighed, curling her fists. " We need to stop overthinking this."

"Okay then. Are you done with your food?"

It no longer looked as appetizing. Marigold frowned. "Yeah. It was delicious."

"Okay. Let's pay and go, then. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get out."

Marigold opened her purse and pulled out her wallet. "Alright, then. Goodness. I can't shake off this odd dread." She pointed to her stomach. "Right here. A big knot."

"Yeah," Rose said, "me too. I mean... this is real. We might see her. We probably won't but... we might."

"We could make a pact to just stay in our hotel room for the next week and say we just didn't bump into her?" Marigold offered. It was impossible to tell her level of sarcasm.

Rose raised an eyebrow.

"Are you chickening out on me?"

"It was just a suggestion."

"A bad one. I need justice. Azure needs justice. And the girl that got shot. We can't just bail on this." Rose stood up, a grim expression on her face. "Have you got everything?"

"I do. Oh, here's a waiter!"

A few minutes later, the two were outside. Marigold found her hands trembling despite the sweet, warm air that hung atop them. She suddenly found it claustrophobic to be outside.

"Which way?"

"This way, I think." Rose pointed. As they turned the corner, the bright colours of the casino became visible.

"There." Rose's voice was soft.

"There." Marigold's voice shook, just barely. "We can't be scared now."

"Who's scared?"

Rose took a bold step forwards. The casino got closer as they walked, and her heart fluttered.

Marigold looked around. The casino stood out in the quaint village, with large pillars decorating the front. The doors, large, were open enough to reveal the interior, from which music emanated.

Even the colours were taking her back. She sighed, finding it hard to properly finish her exhale. "Not me."

"Let's go, then," Rose said. She took a deep breath and stepped inside the casino.

She was immediately a little overwhelmed by the sounds, the bustle. It was busier than Rose would have expected; her eyes darted around frantically, looking for a flash of pink hair.

"Remember what we're in here for. We're just scouting. Tonight isn't for confrontation." Marigold pressed at her.

"I know. I'm just... looking." Rose couldn't tear her gaze away from the crowds. "What if she's here?"

"Then we avoid her and contact Azure immidiately."

Rose breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. "She's probably not even here. Shall we have a look around?"

"Yes." Marigold stepped forward, trying hard to avoid the set of loud, colourful slot machines. "I'll go check out the card tables."

"Okay. I assume you know how to play all of these." Rose hovered close by, trying not to get too distracted.

"I'm not here to play." Marigold shot her a scowl.

"Oh, no, I wasn't suggesting..." Rose immediately backed off. "Sorry."

Marigold didn't respond, and instead shuffled further inside the casino. She stopped to view a water feature in front of high panels of glass that seperated the section from the rest. "This is so unnecessary."

Rose barely spared it a glance. “It’s what you do when you’ve got too much money, I guess,” she said. “So... what do we do now? Scout out the place?”

"Sounds good." Marigold nodded. "I'll handle the... slots, I guess."

Rose nodded. "I might head over to the bar. ... damn, it would be useful to have Azure's equipment to communicate. Have you got your phone on you?"

"Should do. Ah, yes. But the reception is down."

"Ah, damn." Rose looked around nervously. "There's no sign of her. Maybe we should go back."

"Oh no, you brought us here. Now I'm determined." Marigold sniffed. "We're just looking around."

Rose clenched her teeth. "Fine," she said. "I'll go to the bar. Meet at the exit in... twenty minutes?"

"Sounds good." Marigold nodded, looking around. "This place gives me the willies."

"Yeah, me too. Might get something to drink just to take the edge off." Rose sighed. "I'll see you later."

"Just don't make it a repeat of last night." Marigold swore under her breath as she began to walk to a row of slots, observing the area past the entryway. She pressed through a small crowd past a table.

She realised she was having trouble breathing as she recognised the intricate game of bridge before her.

But no sign of Roxy. It was a table of men, somewhat well dressed, quieter than the more intoxicated gaggles of people.

The air felt too heavy. She envied the sparkling glasses in the room.

Rose made it to the bar and settled on one of the stools with a heavy sigh.

The bartender spoke to her in Italian, a smile on his lips.

"Uh... I'm sorry, I don't speak Italian," Rose said, suddenly feeling kind of stupid.

What are we doing here?

"Oh, okay," the bartender said in accented English. "Can I get you a drink?"

Rose definitely needed one. "Rum and coke?" she asked.

"No problemo." The bartender winked at her. "I can help you with your Italian too, if you want."

Rose blushed. "Uh, thanks, but I'm not staying long," she said. Hopefully.

The bartender clicked his tongue as he poured a cola. "Oh? Why not stay around for a while? Have you had enough of the casino noise?"

Rose’s shoulders slumped slightly.

“I’m only passing through,” she said. “I’m... here with my...” She hesitated. What was Marigold to her, now? Her boss? Colleague?

“Friend,” she decided. “And we’re looking for someone, and we’ll probably leave once we find her.”

"Oh? Anyone I could help find?" He blinked, sliding the glass over.

“Maybe,” Rose said. “We heard she comes here sometimes. About this tall, very pretty...” She blushed. “Middle aged. Possibly pink hair, though she might’ve changed it since I knew her.”

He ground to a still before picking up a glass to wipe. An anxious look appeared over his face. "Hm, yes. I may have seen someone like that around. Your friend, you said?"

"... yeah, something like that." Rose straightened up. "So you've seen her?"

"Not tonight, but yes." He looked around and leaned close. "Look, bella. I like you. Don't get mixed in with this. It's dark business."

Rose held his gaze, her heart fluttering. "What do you mean?" she said softly.

"Avoid this mafia stuff, yes?" He gave a little nod, perhaps to encourage her. "I only see one or two of her close women stick around for longer than a month. Tourist types always seem to be... excited until they learn how far it all goes."

Rose's heart sped up, and even though the bartender was cute, it wasn't because of his closeness.

Of course Roxy would get involved in the mafia. Fuck. I need to tell Marigold.

She looked around, anxiety in her belly.

"When did you last see her?"

"Last week." He looked to the casino. "She does card games usually. That's all I can let you know, I'm afraid."

Rose breathed. She could hear the blood rushing through her ears.

"Thanks," she said, "you've been very helpful. If I stick around for longer, maybe you can help me learn Italian."

Her flirtatious smile was forced. She knocked back her drink. "Could I have another one of those?"

He returned the smile, a little more relaxed. "This one is on the house."

Marigold found herself frozen in front of a selection of slot machines. They were more colourful and loud than she remembered. Some even had electronic screens and flashy gimmicks.

The coins in her pocket felt surprsingly heavy all of the sudden.

"This truly is a recovered gambler's worst nightmare," she murmured. The noise in the hall was so loud she barely heard her own sound.

One game. One game wouldn't hurt. She only had about twenty euros as cash on hand.

"One game."

Before she knew it, her fingers were placing a coin into the slot at the top of a machine slightly taller than her.

Rose had finished her drink and found herself waiting at the arranged time, itching to go. Her conversation with the bartender had left her with a deep pit of dread in her stomach, and she didn't want to stay.

After a few minutes, she made her way to the slot machines, where she saw Marigold and quickly made her way over to her.

"Marigold," she said, "we need to go."

Marigold nearly jumped. She didn't, however, turn around. "Alright. Sure. Just a couple of minutes. Did you check the whole perimiter?"

"No, but we need to go. I talked to the bartender, and he says she's in the mafia, Marigold." Rose took a moment to breathe. "God, you got stuck at the slots, didn't you?"

Marigold turned to look at her, eyes wide. The purse in her hand was nearly empty. "Oh, good Lord! Is she here tonight?"

“No. But I don’t feel safe here. We need to go back and let Azure know. And get our stuff. I don’t want to encounter her without any of our gear.”

Marigold huffed. "Get a grip, Rose. If she's not here, she's not here. But fine, you make a good point. I've only got a coin left, anyway. One last game and we can head back."

“Okay. Fine. I need to pee anyway. Serves me right for drinking, I guess. Do you know where the toilets are?”

"Oh! I think I saw a sign just past that odd fountain, past the front."

“Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”

As Rose walked through the casino, she had to force herself to walk slowly. She deliberately didn’t look at the faces in the crowd.

She’s not here. She isn’t here, so stop stressing. This is bad for your heart.

She found the bathroom after a few minutes of searching, and once the stall door shut behind her, she let out a deep breath that she hadn’t realised she was holding.

It’s okay. I’ll be out of here soon. We’ll leave and regroup and tell Azure and then, when we actually see Roxy, we’ll be prepared.

And then, almost as an afterthought: I hope Marigold is okay.

The door to the bathroom opened, and several other women came in, chatting in fast, hushed Italian.

Rose ignored them. They were probably just here to enjoy their evening. There was no need to get suspicious. She's not here.

She took a deep breath, and then another. She'd finished her business on the toilet. It was time to go find Marigold and return to their hotel.

A faucet was rushing. A figure in a suit before Rose was washing her hands, her hair silvery from the back. The suit was well fitted, pinstripe.

Rose stepped towards the sinks and washed her hands, not looking at the other woman, lost in her thoughts.

The woman turned to face her.

A little yelp of surprise echoed in the bathroom.

And then silence.

And Rose finally turned, acknowledging the woman next to her.

Her mind went completely blank in shock, and for a moment that felt like eternity, she only stared.

She’s here.

#steven universe #su fanfic #su yellow diamond #su rose quartz #su pearl #greg universe #su pink diamond #su human au #educating the victim #etv act 6 #illustrated #animated #sfw

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hurt-care · 5 years

Text

HP Universe Drabble Challenge Pt.4

And the next set for the snzfic/sickfic drabble challenge.

16. Dinner for Three (Sirius Black) 17. Doctor (Harry Potter) 18. Dust (Ron Weasley) 19. Feather (Hermione Granger) 20. Anticipation (Tonks) 21. Bed (Remus Lupin)

16. Dinner for Three

��Lils?”

James Potter emerged from the front hallway of their cottage, brushing snow out of his hair.

“In the kitchen,” she called. “Dinner's almost ready.”

Hurhh-TSCXHHH!

“Bless you!” Lily said as she moved towards the sound. “James are you --”

She stopped short at the sight of a second figure in the entryway. Sirius Black was standing behind James with his hands steepled over his nose.

“Sorry,” James said, leaning in to kiss his wife on the cheek. “I didn't say. I dragged this miserable sod with me. Will we have enough dinner to feed three?”

“I don't need dinner,” Sirius chimed in. “Just the couch, thanks.”

“And some Pepper-Up, by the sounds of it,” Lily said. “Are you alright?”

“He's been sniffling all day,” James said. “I said he better come here instead of back to that dark little flat of his.”

“Of course. We can make up the spare bed, Sirius,” she offered. “Now, get those cloaks off and come warm up. I made stew and there's plenty.”

Hehh-nghGHXT!

Sirius doubled over, sneezing loudly.

“Oh, Sirius,” Lily said sympathetically. “Come on. We'll find you some Pepper-Up and a hot drink too.”

17. Doctor

On the second night in a row of listening to her husband coughing all night, Ginny Potter laid down the law.

“If you're not going to take a potion, at least agree to see a Healer,” she urged as Harry lay listlessly on the sofa with the wireless playing the day's Quidditch match.

“Hmm?” Harry murmured. “What do you mean? I'm not going to St. Mungo's for a cold.”

Ginny gave him an odd look.

“I didn't say go to St. Mungo's. I said go to a Healer.”

Harry looked confused for a second but was quickly distracted by the brutal cough. He turned his face to his shoulder, chest straining as he hacked. Ginny grabbed his water glass and passed it over.

“Thanks,” he choked, taking a gulp of water. He got the coughs under control and he cleared his throat of the remaining congestion. “I can't just owl for Pomfrey.”

Ginny had the sudden realization that Harry had no idea that Healers existed outside of Hogwarts and the hospital.

“Do you know how Muggles go to see a doctor?” she asked.

“Well, yeah, of course,” Harry replied. “Had to get my shots from one when I was a kid.”

“Well, there are Healers who sort of like doctors,” Ginny explained. “You can go to their house or they can come to you.”

Harry stared at her, brows furrowing. At first she thought he was upset, but his mouth dropped open and he took a small gasping breath before pressing his hands over his nose.

Eh-tsCHHH!

He sneezed forcefully and cleared his throat again.

“How soon do you think we can get to one?” he asked wearily.

18. Dust

“Anything yet?” Hermione shouted up the attic steps.

“Just a second,” Ron's voice replied. “I think they're in this box.”

At the base of the ladder, Hermione tapped her foot as she waited. They were making plans for George and Angelina's upcoming wedding and Ron was looking for his dress robes, which he'd inexplicably shoved in some box at the Burrow after wearing them for both Bill and Fleur's and Harry and Ginny's ceremonies. After he and Hermione had married, the box didn't end up making it over to their house and Mrs. Weasley surmised it must've ended up in the attic.

So Ron was digging through box after box, trying to ignore the family's horrifying old ghoul that lingered in the far corner.

“Ah ha!” he shouted triumphantly. “I knew they were here somewhere.”

He appeared at the top of the ladder holding his robes. They almost appeared grey instead of black thanks to several years in the attic. Ron gave them a shake, releasing a cloud of dust, and held them up.

“I think they'll still fit,” he said. “They don't look so—hehh...”

His breath hitched and his eyes narrowed in a squint.

Hehh—ehh-CXHT!

He snapped forward with the forceful sneeze and immediately bent forward again with a second and third.

Eshh-SCHHT! Nhh'GSCHHHT!

“Bless you!” Hermione said from the bottom of the ladder. “Steady. Don't fall down here.”

“Shaking them was a bad idea,” Ron said with a sniffle. “Too much dust.”

19. Feather

The Office of the Minister of Magic was always abuzz with activity, but sometimes Hermione needed her own space to think. Today, it was more than just that. She'd been feeling off all morning and she needed time alone to recharge. So, with an authoritative demand, she sent away her under-secretaries and advisors before shutting her office door and putting a 'do not disturb' spell on it.

She sank down into her desk chair, relishing the sudden silence. There were about a dozen stacks of parchment in front of her to be reviewed but all she really wanted today was to be home on the sofa with Ron. No such luck. These papers were not going to review themselves.

Picking up the stack, she took up her quill and began to edit the proposed new legislation. Not ten minutes in to her work, she began to feel a troublesome itch in her nose. She wriggled it irritably and sniffled, briefly wondering if her allergies were flaring up. But there was nothing she'd been exposed to that would have caused them. Perhaps her 'off' feeling was the beginnings of a cold. Either way, the tickle in her nose was growing in urgency. She closed her eyes and took another deep sniffle, trying to coax the sneezes out or to make the tickle stop. Neither happened.

Frustrated, she pressed her palm to her nose and wriggled it. The itch rose in urgency and she felt her breath hitch, but then...nothing. She pinched her nose and tried rubbing the nostrils together. Again, her breath caught in her throat but no sneezes came. The itch was peaking to a maddening level, buzzing inside her nose like a trapped insect. She squeezed her quill tightly, caught in the tormented state.

And then in came to her. Of course! Her quill!

She raised the feather end and gave her nose a light brush. The tickle surged in intensity. She stroked the long plume across the sensitive tip of her nose and around her quivering nostrils. Her breath hitched, this time going wild with anticipation.

“C'mon....” she groaned, swirling the tip of the feather into her runny nose.

And then, it happened. She took a gasping breath and pitched forward, catching her nose in a cupped hand.

Eh-tshCHII! Heh-TCHII! Ehhh—hehh-CSCHIII!

The sneezes burst forth, scraping her throat and quelling the plaguing itch. At least for the time being.

20. Anticipation

He'd been desperate to get back to her all week. Despite their rocky start and some angst in the middle, Remus truly did adore his wife Tonks. And now they'd been apart nearly two weeks while Remus was up North recruiting the werewolves and he was very eager to get back home to her. In spite of his own weariness and aches and robes that needed a good wash, he bounded up the stairs to the flat and performed the charms to unlock the door.

“I'm back!” he said, stepping into the foyer and shedding his mud-soaked boots on the mat.

“In the den,” Tonks voice replied quietly.

He shrugged off his robes in favour of the jumper and trousers he had on underneath and practically sprinted into the den.

Dora was sitting on their worn sofa, a cup of tea clutched between her hands and a blanket over her shoulders. From her ears drifted a slow trickle of smoke.

“Oh no,” Remus said, taking in the sight. “Are you sick?”

“Maybe. But get over here,” she said hoarsely, opening her arms. He sat on the sofa and pulled her into a tight hug.

“God, I missed you,” he confessed. “I've been dreaming about this all week. I pictured it a little differently but it doesn't matter.”

She sighed and gave him a tight squeeze.

“If the dreams involved snogging me senseless, then yes, I'd maybe hold off on that,” she said. “I'm sorry.”

“Oh, love, it's okay,” he assured her, leaning back and pulling her to rest comfortably against his chest. He carded his long fingers through her pale pink hair. She turned her head and coughed lightly into his jumper.

“Sorry,” she croaked. “The Pepper-Up is only doing so much. I- errr..hold on...”

She sat up, leaning away from him with an odd expression on her face. Her button nose wrinkled irritably and she snapped forward into her bent arm, sneezing damply.

Hurh-tshCHOO!

With a groan, she sniffled thickly and slumped back into his arms.

“You weren't joking,” he said sympathetically, resuming stroking her hair. “I think waiting a bit for snogging is definitely a good idea.”

21. Bed

Being back at Hogwarts was already incredibly emotional and then there was the fact that one of his former best friends had escaped prison and was on the run. And then there was the son of one of his other best friends who kept showing up at his office door telling him stories of hearing James and Lily's murder when the Dementors got too close. And of course, there was also the transformations and dealing with Snape's daily delivery of Wolfsbane. And teaching all of his classes to a student body that, frankly, was extremely lacking in quality Defence education.

It was all a little overwhelming.

So it wasn't really a surprise when Remus woke up one morning feeling the ache of a fever and the heavy congestion of a cold that had settled its way into his head and chest. He sat up in bed only to immediately flop back down onto the pillows with a heavy sigh. Thank Merlin it was Saturday.

He turned his head and squinted towards the clock on the wall. The hands read half-past eleven and he groaned. Snape would be around soon with his potion and the last thing he wanted was to be caught in his pyjamas. Untangling himself from the sheets, he rose and got dressed, sniffling and snorting as he went about the business of getting ready. Cozied up in a heavy jumper, he tucked some handkerchiefs into his pocket and went down into his office.

Might as well get some work done while he waited. He picked up a stack of papers that needed grading, but the pounding pressure of the congestion in his head made it difficult. He pressed slim fingers to his sinuses, spreading them across the sensitive ridge of his cheeks. Nose dripping, he reached for a handkerchief to clean up his nose and was grateful he'd grabbed it as he felt the sharp prickle of a building sneeze.

Eh-tsGHHHTT! Nh-ghhTSCHHH! Hehh...ehh-GHSHTT!

He sneezed harshly into the handkerchief, throat scraping with each brutal outburst, and quickly launched into a volley of chesty coughs. Clutching at his chest, he tried to settle them, but they seemed to tumble out with a persistent percussive rhythm. He took a wheezy breath and managed to stop, now red in the face and sweaty.

There was a knock on the door. Snape. Great.

“Come in,” he said hoarsely.

Snape swooped in with a goblet, pausing and looking at Remus with a disgusted expression.

“You look like shit.”

“Thank you, Severus,” Remus said wryly.

Snape put the potion down on Remus' desk, dark eyes scanning the stack of papers and the discarded handkerchief.

“Do you think your rooms might be a better place for you in this state?” Snape asked cooly. “Wouldn't want to infect the rest of the school.”

Remus picked up the goblet and inclined his head in thanks as he took a swig and tried not to gag. He drained the cup and set it down with a hard 'clink'.

“I believe you're probably right,” he said wearily. “There's nothing I can take to help?”

“Not unless you wish to become a raging monster in a week,” Snape replied. “Suffer now and you'll just be a quieter monster.”

Remus looked at him and felt the heavy tug of illness and exhaustion outweighing any desire to fight.

“Right,” he said, picking up his handkerchief and shielding a few soft coughs. “Bed it is.”

#dustyfic

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jjkfire · 6 years

Photo

Wrapped Around; Finale Preview

Jimin x Reader x Tae // College!AU // 1.5k words

Summary: Freshman year was a mess and sophomore year doesn’t seem to be looking too good either. You know boys like them are no good for you but maybe they’re just your kind of type

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut | Warnings: Anxiety

A/N: hey guys… it’s me hahah. man i know i said i’d update WA latest by early August but i’ve been hella busy and i’ve also highly underestimated how much time it takes to edit a total of 45k words! here’s a lil something for y’all to read while I edit the finale (: I know it’s been a long ass time since the last update so here’s your chance to refresh your memory before the finale lol. also i think i figured out a way around the keep reading and divider bug on mobile!!! let me know if you see both of em if you’re reading this on mobile.

You’re long gone by the time Taehyung wakes up, already having made the trek back to your dorm for a quick shower prior to your 8 am class. The moment you woke up with his arms wrapped around you, you knew you had made a mistake. It was just once… a small mistake, you reason but you knew that you were only digging yourself deeper into a hole where you’d soon have to figure out your feelings for either of the boys, but right now your strategy is to pretend they aren’t there.

Friends. That’s all they are to you. Friends, friends, friends. You hope that if you repeat it enough times, your damn heart would finally listen to you. Though, that’s not usually the case is it? So, you get smart, you tell Taehyung that you’d much rather meet up at the library to complete the project, instead of meeting at his or yours because you’d get work done faster but really, it’s so he doesn’t have a chance to get you to cave. You invite Jimin and Hoseok too because that’s what friends do right? Study together? Of course, Hoseok never shows up because apparently the library has an odd smell he isn’t fond of, it’s the smell of despair and stress, he explains, and you can only laugh at that.

There’s tension in the air when the three of you sit at a table and you can clearly tell that Taehyung and Jimin are having some sort of a silent conversation between the both of them but you’d rather not ask and you’d rather not get involved because you had plenty on your plate already. There are times though when the three of you go out for dinner, Hoseok joining once or twice, where it suddenly feels like you’re transported back to your winter break, well, the beginning of it at least and everything seems fine, great even and this is what you want… For everything to be… normal. But of course, your heart didn’t know how to do normal.

The following Monday after you submit the project that your asshole professor so gladly assigned only a week prior to this, he announces that the project you had all just submitted would be the last partner project of the semester and you could almost hear a collective sigh ringing around the class, but— there was always a but, you frown —but, he continues, the weekly written assignments will go on until the end of the semester and they are to be done individually. There’s a mixture of groans and tiny hoots of delight but you’re not sure how you feel about it, probably something in the middle because on one hand, this is the excuse you are looking for, one that means you don’t have to spend all that time with Taehyung and on the other it means added stress since, truthfully, Taehyung had been carrying your ass for all the assignments.

Your workload for the semester begins to pick up and you try your best to stay on top of things, spending most of your free time in the library, a hidden one at the top of the astrology building where you know none of your friends will find you, simply choosing to study alone. Of course, you still make time for your close friends, all four of them and you like how things are now, completely… normal, but with time, you begin to slowly carve both Jimin and Taehyung out of your life, throwing yourself into activity after activity just so you had an excuse to avoid them. Taehyung especially takes cue to leave you alone for the time being when your response to his texts are nothing but lacklustre, a little too afraid to push you, to ask what’s wrong in order to avoid a repeat of the fight that happened freshman year. He can’t bare to lose you again and if giving you your space meant that the two of you would still stay friends, he would gladly give you that.

You know the boys are confused, obviously so by how you seem to keep them at an arm’s length, no longer responding to their flirty antics, no longer choosing to spend time with them if it did not involve eating in a public area. It’s a thought that bothers Jimin because everything had seemed to be fine, the night where the two of you had cuddled after the early library study session only a few weeks ago. But again, you’re just so confusing sometimes that he doesn’t bother trying to understand you. He simply leaves you be, waiting for you to reach out to him… except, you don’t.

He finds it unfair that he’s always the one having to make plans, always the first to text you. You don’t seem to be too interested in him, neither as a lover or even a friend and in all honesty, that hurts him. He’s not sure where you are most of the time because you’re neither in your room nor at your usual library spot and of course, that worries him. Any decent friend would be worried but he’s stuck thinking why should he be worrying about you when you obviously don’t have a care in the world for him? So, as much as it pains him, he stops asking where you are or if you’d like to grab dinner, hoping that maybe you’d be the one to ask him those questions but unsurprisingly, you don’t.

Alone.

Being alone is something you quite enjoy, which many people find weird, but you think there’s some power with being comfortable with simply your own presence, not having to latch on to another person to be content. It’s liberating almost, to be free, to be able to have your lunches and dinners just on your own, having the time to just unwind and relax. People often mistake those who are alone as lonely, but you feel quite the contrary, in fact you feel as far from lonely as possible. It’s quite selfish but you like the idea of not having to worry about anything else other than what you are doing and perhaps you needed it, this time alone to figure everything out and just focus on you. The whole debacle with Jimin and Taehyung, which actually is neither of their faults but solely yours and your confused heart’s, had completely drained you so perhaps you needed this, needed some time away. If anything, it’s been nothing but healing and maybe, finally getting to rekindle your friendship with Solji is just what you needed. She’s your silent saviour, the type of friend that ignores things when you want her to but is down to talk about it whenever you show her you’re ready to and for that, you’re nothing but grateful. She’s the kind of person that doesn’t blame you for not replying to her texts because she takes equally as long and perhaps that’s what makes the two of you such good friends. Conversations with her are light, uplifting and it’s just what you need after a long day of classes. You think about how it’s nice to revert to this, to just you and her.

Yet, an emptiness seemed to linger, one that made you feel uncomfortable. The uneasy feeling is a reminder of how quiet life is now that you had pushed away almost everyone who cared for you. They deserve better, you sigh. The thought of reaching out to the two boys dances at the fringes of your thoughts but you brush them away for you fear that your indecisiveness only hurts them. Your finger hovers nervously over their numbers, wondering if it would be okay to call them out of the blue to tell them you missed them, but you simply shake your head at the thought, locking your phone before you place it on your window sill, shutting your eyes momentarily as you sink down into your bed for a short nap. Distractions, you sigh. They are nothing but distractions. You want to believe it, you really do and your head screams at you to do so but your heart tugs you another way because how can they be solely that when they bring you comfort? How can they be bad for you if they make you feel understood, make you feel at peace?

⇢ there will be 2 endings, one for Jimin and one for Tae. Below is a preview for each!

⇢ JIMIN FINALE; a preview Your disappearing act is one that Jimin is far too familiar with and though he remembers telling himself that he should just not care about you, he can’t help but feel like he’s done something wrong for you to just drop him from your life like this. It’s been at least a month since the two of you spoke and he stares at his phone, the previous exchanges between you and him mostly him asking if you’re free and you replying with how you had a group project to work on or a club meeting to attend.

Let me know when you’re free?

Of course, is your reply.

But that’s the last thing you ever texted him and it’s been exactly 31 days since then. It’s hard for him to believe that you couldn’t even take a few hours out of any one of those days to just… talk to him.

It’s not like he has nothing to do most of the time, he himself has been pretty busy with both classes and rowing practice. Aside from that, there��s been parties aplenty this whole semester, seemingly nothing else for college students to do but study and party since the temperatures are too frigid for anything other than the two. He attends each one, hoping to see you there but you never show and most of the time he gravitates back to Taehyung and Hoseok, glad that at least your absence meant that it was just the 3 of them again, like old times. Yet, he feels like a small part of him is missing and he can see it on both Taehyung’s and Hoseok’s faces too. They’ve discussed you once or twice, Taehyung mentioning that he met up with you for lunch once and that he talks to you from time to time but usually only for class-related things because he had messed up, big time. At least she talks to you, Jimin scoffs and he had meant to ask what exactly Taehyung meant when he said he messed up but the thought is fleeting. There’s a series of sighs, everyone coming to the conclusion that you’re a complicated being and in a semester that’s so fast-paced, nobody really has the time to stop and figure you out but something tugs at Jimin’s heart, as if telling him that he should be the one to.

It’s unlike Jimin to be drunk, to drink this much especially since he wants to be up early tomorrow to practice on his rowing but for some reason, he misses you an awful lot today. It’s not how good you sound moaning his name, or how amazing you feel underneath him that he misses but rather it’s your embarrassed smile, that he misses, the one you always try to hide from him when he says something that makes your heart race. It’s the way you tell him the most awful jokes, ones that aren’t even funny, but he finds himself laughing along because your laugh, it turns around his entire day for the better. Most of all, he misses you, just you, because though you may not know it, your presence alone is able to silence the dark thoughts in his head, ones that tell him he’s a mediocre rower and an even worse student. The way your fingers rest on the curve of his waist, your soft voice just mindlessly murmuring quiet compliments, makes the noise around him disappear and even if it’s only for that moment, at least he gets some peace. He wants to believe that he’s simply making things up in his head, that he was fine before he knew you and that he didn’t need you, didn’t want you. He likes to think that maybe if he returns to his old ways, that if he just follows his three favourite rules, then everything would be fine again. Maybe if he had just followed his three rules in the first place, he wouldn’t be here, feeling like absolute shit.

He kisses 2 maybe 3 girls that night but each time, he feels unmoved, tired even, as if going around and being promiscuous no longer gave him the same satisfaction that it used to. It’s not like the girls he meets are dull or bad kissers, they’re amazing girls but they’re just not… you. So, he downs a myriad of liquors, hoping they’ll help him forget all about you but it only makes it worse, for every drunk thought he has is about you. You’re just a phone call away, he murmurs to himself and he wants to put himself out of his misery, to just ring you up and tell you how much he misses you but why should he? Why should he pour out his feelings to someone that never bothers to check in with him? Pathetic, he thinks. He’s still hung up on you while you’re away, living your life without thinking of him.

⇢ TAEHYUNG FINALE; a preview

quick p.s: if you’re planning to read the Tae finale and you haven’t read the prequel yet, I suggest you do because it’s important!!!

The fact that the seat next to Taehyung has been empty for 3 or so weeks is enough for him to know that you’re back to your old ways again. Of course he’s worried and honestly, he doesn’t know what to do because he always seems to overstep the boundary with you. He wanted to show you that he cares but he didn’t know how to do it without hurting you, which was bound to happen because he could never hold his tongue around you, never sugar coat things for the sake of conversation. You’re just so stubborn and he hated seeing you destroy yourself from the inside out, hated how you couldn’t see that when you decide to distance yourself from people that love you, it does nothing but hurt you.

He wonders if he had come on too strong with that sneaky kiss a few weeks earlier and also obviously the more recent incident where he had tucked you into his bed and cuddled you. He sighs to himself, knowing that that was probably what had started all of this, that had you running away from him. It’s just that he couldn’t resist, he frowns to himself. He missed your warmth, your touch and he meant that in the most innocent way, none of that friends with benefits nonsense. Even if things look bleak now, he hopes that with the space he’s giving you, you’ll be able to figure out everything because he thinks he’s pretty much made his intentions clear and if you’d just give him a moment of your time, he’d tell you everything you’d want to know. He knows though that emotions, especially romantically charged ones scare you beyond anything but maybe space is all you need to understand that he’s here for the long run. In due time, you would come to him on your own accord he decides, so he chooses to respect your decision, keeping a close eye on you from afar.

It proves hard for Taehyung to not say anything because he knows you’re struggling, knows you’re juggling one too many things in an attempt to distract yourself from the toxic thoughts that swirl around in your mind. You manage to stay on top at first, he knows that because he sees your homework sitting in the pile on the TA’s desk despite the fact that you haven’t shown up for discussion in weeks, he also sees your timely replies on the mandatory weekly forum posts for the class. But, you’re only human so, you start to miss a homework or two and then he sees your name greyed out in the forum section, notifying him that you’ve missed yet another post and it’s then that he knows exactly what’s happening. You’ve stacked too much onto your plate and now whether intentionally or not, you were neglecting the class in order to do well in your core classes.

He tries to talk to you about it, sends you a text regarding one of the questions of the assignment due this week and you brush him off with a, oh I haven’t found the time to do it yet, but I’ll let you know when I get to it! Except he knows you’ll never get to it and it’s with great reluctance that Taehyung pulls up the browser that has your log-in details still saved from the last time you had borrowed his laptop to submit a last-minute assignment. Whether this was in some way a form of academic misconduct or perhaps even an invasion of your privacy, is something he didn’t want to ponder.

A/N: lmao also real talk ill be travelling this time next week so if i don’t manage to edit this by the 24th…. expect a mid-September update aha

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #taehyung fluff #jimin fluff

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