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bigskydreaming · 3 years

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Hi! You've talked about Brother Blood a lot so I was hoping you'd know. I saw a post where some people were saying that Dick being brainwashed was a retcon done just to make him look less jerky. Is that true?

Eh, yes and no?

Like it depends on what you consider a retcon to be, I guess. If you view any story moment that contradicts or alters a previous one to be a retcon, then yeah, I suppose you could call it that. Personally though, I consider retcons to be later additions to a story or continuity that create a REPLACEMENT for an earlier story moment, that people are meant to refer back to from then on. Dick's brainwashing, to me, was simply a reveal. It altered the way his previous behavior was viewed, but it was deliberately led up to, like that WAS the story.

Now, to be fair, the specific way the brainwashing was explained, it made things ambiguous enough that you could make USE of the brainwashing to excuse or explain away pretty much anything you didn't like about his behavior between the first Church of Blood story (when Dick was still Robin) and this one. So I suppose in that respect, it is a retcon.

But what makes me scrunchy faced when most people write off or ignore the brainwashing as a retcon (and why is it that people are so willing to accept SOME retcons but not others, I would really like to know, like 'but it was a retcon' seems to come up ANNOYINGLY often in Dick's narratives in particular, with that line being used to try and invalidate Dick being fired, Robin being his mother's name for him, that he was brainwashed in the Church of Blood stories, etc. Yeah they were retcons, but so were eighty million other things people just accept. Like.....I'm just saying).

BUT I DIGRESS.

Anyway, what makes me go eh about people going 'oh the brainwashing was just a retcon to make him seem like less of a jerk' because yes, I have heard that argument too.....is that the things people cite as what they feel are examples of the behavior they think this was a retcon FOR, like.....just do not work as such.

Because the big ones are the ways Dick behaved on Tamaran and with Kory's political marriage, and then his fight with Donna upon his return to Earth.

And I just want to point out the timeline involved here:

Dick's big blowup with Kory over her political marriage? Was in New Teen Titans #18. His fight with Donna, was in #19. The reveal of his brainwashing, which led him to lash out due to the mental and emotional turmoil he was in fighting against the conditioning, as Mother Mayhem termed it, was in #22.

That's a span of less than five months from the biggest jerk moment people cite as what was being retconned with the brainwashing....til the brainwashing moment itself. And there's a couple of things to keep in mind here.....first, that comics - especially back in the eighties - take TIME to produce. Even if there had been a huge reader backlash at the time of #18's publication, with readers calling for Dick's head, the idea that this could lead to inserting the entire brainwashing plot setup as a fix-it retcon is dubious if not outright impossible. Issue #22 was on the SHELVES not even five full months after #18's publication. In the 80s, the way comics were produced and published, they needed to be completely finished and shipped off to retailers a couple months before their on-shelf date, and it took weeks to print everything, and the lettering and inking and every step of the creation of each issue was done by hand.....

How exactly, do people propose that DC even had TIME to note any sizable need to correct or fix Dick's behavior in something like #18....and actually DO so by #22?

Not to mention, every issue in between them lays another brick into place on the road to REVEALING that Dick was brainwashed this whole time.....because in #19, when he had that big fight with Donna, he was actively shown questioning himself on his OWN behavior after the fight was over. Asking himself why he said the things he did, like....he was second-guessing his own behavior, which I don't see how that could have possibly been put in to lay groundwork for a retcon AFTER #18 was published....because #19 and #20 likely should have been already completed and off to the printers by the time #18 even hit stands.

And then AFTER #19, in #20 and #21, we saw Dick actively infiltrating the Church, or THINKING that was what he was doing, even though the Church was on to him the whole time, because his conditioning was actually just....directing him to basically walk right back into their clutches. Again, works as set up for the REVEAL that he was brainwashed, but impossible to have put into place to enable a RETCON.

So no matter how you look at it, even IF the decision to introduce a brainwashing retcon to 'fix' some of Dick's behavior had been made due to story elements from BEFORE #18.....

The events of #18 themselves, as well as #19-#22......still do not work as things that are just conveniently retconned by the brainwashing.....they have to have been written with the specific intention in mind of laying groundwork for the idea that Dick was 'lashing out due to his mental struggle against his conditioning.'

The timing just does not work for them to be anything else.

So it doesn't work for me at all, to cite those issues as things retconned by the brainwashing reveal, when HOW Dick acted on Tamaran, plus his fight with Donna, were very clearly written as DELIBERATE moments where he was behaving in a way that can literally be described as out of character, because they were meant to post-reveal, be viewed as examples of how he wasn't himself, how his mental and emotional state themselves were being impacted by external influences. (Not just in terms of external events but like, external mental conditioning).

And I just don't think it works to use moments that are written WITHIN a narrative to be DELIBERATELY out of character.....as examples of his characterization or proof of the necessity of a retcon for his character, lol. That makes no sense to me.

And lastly, I also have to point to the fact that like......good old Marv is not actually the most aware guy out there? And I question the idea that just because people TODAY may look at various things Dick said or did in stories leading up to the reveal and think oh yeah, of course they'd want to course correct that.....I don't exactly think that means that back in the 80s, Wolfman viewed those same things as even NEEDING a retcon to correct. Especially when you consider things the other characters around Dick were doing, without any kind of retcon for their worst behavior? Why would it be only Dick that he saw a need to retcon his behavior or actions, especially when Dick's worst ones literally ONLY happen in the actual narrative buildup to the brainwashing reveal, mere months before the issue revealing it hit the stands?

*Shrugs* Anyway, YMMV, but to me its always clearly read as all of that was just a story where writing Dick acting increasingly out of character in ways that isolated him from his closest friends and allies so there was no one around TO stop him from walking himself right back into the Church's grasp....like, that was pretty clearly the POINT of that entire narrative, and the literal reason those fights he had even happened.

Writing it off as a retcon just to me seems an unnecessary tangle that doesn't serve any real purpose and complicates things needlessly. All it accomplishes is more of the usual 'oh Dick's not so great, look at THIS stuff he did, and how DC did this and this to make all that go away.'

Like.....DC doesn't even see a need to retcon away BRUCE'S worst behavior - then as much as now - and if they don't do it for BATMAN why are people so sure they're invested in doing it for Dick Grayson?

Sometimes a story reveal is just a story reveal, if you ask me. Which you did. So yeah. That's my answer. Nah, it wasn't actually a retcon, it was a planned plot twist.

Edit: Actually one last thing to point out -

Wolfman wrote brainwashing and possession storylines all the time. ALL THE TIME. Like, he LOVES that shit. 99% of those other ones don’t seem to have ‘need to retcon this character’s behavior’ as a reason for them being written, so why does this particular storyline need a reason for existing beyond ‘Wolfman wanted to write a brainwashing story. Again.’

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yuriyuruandyuraart · 4 years

Text

part 12

ink was getting nervous. Error was coming by at night, and since every other vampire was sleeping, he couldn’t do anything but wait in his garden-

Something wasn’t quite normal with error. He looked pretty anxious, wary even-

Ink sighed. Life was so empty- not even death could fix that

He discovered that over time, most vampires could get used to the sunlight after being exposed to it very lightly. He also noticed that vampires couldn’t be murdered unless they were shot or stabbed in the soul

He not only wasn’t affected by the sunlight in the first place, but he had no soul to begin with-

Death wasn’t an option.

Boredom was the only thing that was “killing” him

Ever since he could remember, life was always so boring

Empty

Without any goal to achieve or get going with

He clenched his fists

The only thing that was following him around and that let him stay alive was…

Guilt

For something he could never forgive himself for

Maybe he could fix it?

He didn’t want to think about it now-

He traveled inside his garden, wandering around his maze, then sat down near some bushes

He was an immortal being with barely no will to live, but he did have a passion to stay sane

And it ended up being art.

Painting, sewing, designing, sculpting-

Creating was a nice compensation for destroying everyone’s lives…

Now that he was thinking about it…

…….

Wait, who was that?!

Ink noticed a shadow fly away from his garden. ‘Right when he had some inspiration to draw’. He ran to them, but he realized they already left.

It was probably another vampire, but the vast majority preferred to go out at night since they won’t be so visible to the mortals. Though it was unusual for a one to fly off so fast and early in the morning. The sun was bright, and even he felt pretty nauseous staying on spot without anything to shield himself from the heat of it.

Even so, he stared at his surroundings, curious to see if the person left something, when he noticed a crispy letter on the grass.

Ink sighed, who could it beee?

He painfully leaned down to catch the letter, and opened it.

Right, it was him.

Just when he thought he’ll get to talk to him personally-

He sat down and read the long paragraph that decorated its paper.

…

“…oh-“

He got up and dusted off his clothes from the remaining dirt and leaves that stuck to him, then trailed off to his castle-

“Looks like the meeting is still ongoing”

******

His steps were heavy,

And he was getting weaker-

He collapsed on the ground

It was so painful to be alive

And he hated it

He HATED ink for what he did!

He-

He…

….

Well, the forest wasn’t a good place to fall unconscious in, so he painfully got himself up.

He could hate ink all he wanted, but the mortals were even worse

If only he could just KILL THEM ALL

ALL OF THEM

Ugh-

“…”

Huh

Crying?

Him?

Out of character, right?

He wiped away the tears that were slowly forming themselves in his sockets. He had to- he had to go and ask for help like the idiot that he is! He…he didn’t want him to-

…

Die? Who? What the flip was he even doing in that forest anyways?!

Oh yeah, heal himself

Obviously

He sat by a tree and painfully tightened the holes and scars with bandages after carefully removing the bullets and disinfecting the injuries with his magic. He really didn’t want to see him again,

But he didn’t have a choice anymore

********

*tap*

He sat on his sofa, slowly waiting for his guest’s arrival in front of his large window.

He closed his eyes patiently, then sighed calmly

“nice seeing you again, error”

His silhouette slowly appeared in front of him, threatening as always.

“…”

He looked away, a frown still in place.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to see me, but god can you be stubborn!” ink pouted. They knew each other for years, but one thing that didn’t change was the fact that error was never happy to see him

Nor to spend time with him

Actually, the times where he’ll be “happy” is when he almost “kills” him, or when he leaves-

Yeah, a nice “friendship”

“I swear if it wasn’t for an important reason I would’ve never stepped a toe in your hell of a castle!”

“but you still came here. And I’m sorry if I am worried about this reason that’s so important it actually made you sit here, and talk to me for once.”

Error flinched at his sarcastic tone, and he thought about giving a spiteful remark back, but he sat on the sofa in front of him, directly facing the window, choosing to ignore his off handed retorts to leave that place as soon as possible.

“… well-“ error tried to collect his words, obviously tired of what had happened to him this past weeks.

“there is a small town very far away from here who sent a…detective? Spy? Whatever, A trained mortal to hunt down the vampires while being hidden amongst the normal villagers, and he’s been very wary of YOU especially.”

“He had been giving some “ideas” to the mortals, and if he manages to convince them to overthrow your rules and influence, he’ll quickly discover your intentions and the hidden place of multiple thousands of vampire, causing the extinction of the race in a second. And while I flipping hate your guts and I despise you all so much, vampires and mortals alike, I can’t really be all that powerful and safe when the humans can win over me; the amount of vampires decreasing giving them “courage” to kill the remaining.”

He stated the last sentence with disgust. He didn’t give two cents about vampires, even less monsters or even humans, which he hates even more, but ink’s motives were vastly different

ink loved vampires, because he had to; Being the original vampire who first existed. He was the reason so many mortals turned into those people, feared by the pitiful society called the living. And just like that he and the other vampires that followed began growing stronger in number and power.

You could say that he didn’t have a choice- that it was in his nature; he’s a vampire! He can’t help but drink blood, in the case of monsters, magic-

But

Not only can vampires resist the urge to drink blood, by simply eating meat, but in ink’s case

He doesn’t even like drinking blood nor magic

He was more into literal ink

The only reason he drank blood in the first place was to get feelings

The first vampire didn’t have a chance to get a soul, so he discovered he could get feelings another way.

And he despised doing that

Because

Of how he discovered

That-

“INK!”

Ink looked at error, realizing he must’ve been daydreaming for too long

“…”

Ink got up, then undressed himself from his coat.

“Huh? What the he- what are you doing???”

“Well, suffice to say we’re going to catch that little comedian and eliminate him as soon as we can”

Error didn’t expect such bluntness from ink, but he couldn’t care less about that, more like, he was caught off guard by the “we”

“Hey, hey, hey- this is YOUR job, mister! It is not my business to attend”

Ink looked back at him, and gave him a warm smile

“Didn’t you say earlier it affected you if all the race disappeared? Wouldn’t you want to stop that from happening? I might add that you wouldn’t come here unless you really had to, so is it just for a message or did you need my help?”

He hated it when ink gets smart

But at the same time he was right

Though there was still another reason on top of it all, but he kept his mouth sealed

That bastard didn’t need to know

“…fine. What to do now”

Ink’s smirk became predatory

“What makes you think we’ll need to do anything?”

Error flinched

“What?”

Ink giggled-

“Well, it’s getting quite late don’t you think?”

Error looked back at the window, the moon shining bright in a cold, dark night

“Ink! I need answers!”

Ink paused his laughing, then smiled

“I’ll tell you more about it if you’ll be my guest.”

He bowed slightly, still keeping eye contact with the other

Error tensed- he didn’t know what to do now

“…is this a trap?”

Ink looked surprised at that statement, but quickly rectified

“Not at all!”

“Then what makes me believe that you’re not going to kill me in my sleep!”

Ink paused a second, kind of offended by the other’s skepticism when he just wanted to welcome him

Well, guess it can’t be helped

“I promise you that I will answer your questions tomorrow, It’s just that you might be exhausted from the constant travelling- the bruises and scars look like they just need a bit of attention, and you-“

He trailed off, citing multiple reasons why he needed a shelter from him, and error quickly cut him off

“Okay- okay- I get it”

It did make him feel a bit better though, considering ink takes his promises very seriously, so he might as well stay for a night

“Just ONE night”

He crossed his arms, and ink chuckled

“Sure, sure-“

He smiled

“Goodnight then, error”

*******

“well, how about we talk more about it in a more...private environment, yes?”

**********

ink belongs to @comyet/ @myebi

error belongs to @loverofpiggies

dark cream belongs to @zu-is-here

well, it took a while to update you guys, but i’m really happy about it!

error holds a huge grudge against ink- what is it? still haven’t finished that part yet guys ;D

also, the illustration is a spoiler for the next part focusing about ink, but as they say- it’s not a real spoiler if you have no context right ;)?

((remind me not to paint an illustration for a writing i haven’t updated in a while it just makes it worse))

also, the reason i haven’t drawn error once is because i can’t decide on a design he often hides his face with a very dark cape. i will give you guys a sheet with everyone’s faces (protagonists only) their mouths (the difference between their fangs) and their markings/eyelights

very exited to write more about ink though- it’s going to get interesting very soon ;)

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potatowitch · 3 years

Text

Hawke as Companion

Template by @little-lightning-lavellan

Is your OC a Companion in the Dragon Age series? What would it be like for a player to select them to join their party for quests (or romance them, perhaps? 👀)

I did originally plan on doing this for my Inquisitor but, as always, I've got Hawke brainrot instead, and I figured writing some companion interactions would be so much more interesting with her as a companion than my Lavellan. This got .... very long.

You have selected RIAN to join your party!

Race: HUMAN

Gender: FEMALE

Class: MAGE

Specialization: BLOOD MAGE

BACKGROUND

Marian Elaine Hawke, known also as “Rian”, “Chuckles”, “Champion of Kirkwall” and “Hawke, NO” was born in 9:06 Dragon to Malcolm and Leandra Hawke. Despite having to keep her father's magic a secret, she was never led to believe that magic was anything but a gift. Therefore, she spent much of her younger years experimenting to see if she could produce magic, eventually managing at age 9 to light the fireplace with a tiny fireball.

Growing up, she was attached to Malcolm at the hip - the two of them shared not only their magic but their senses of humor and general chaotic energy.

After the Hawke family fled Lothering during the Blight, Hawke joined Athenril’s smugglers to pay off her entry into Kirkwall. As soon as she met Varric at the start of Act 1, they became inseparable best friends - Hawke often cites Varric as her soulmate and the platonic love of her life. During the Deep Roads expedition, Carver became infected with the Blight, and with the help of Anders, Hawke was able to lead him to the Grey Wardens so he could join their ranks.

Over the years, she developed close relationships with most of her companions except for Aveline and Sebastian. Her friendship with Merrill eventually developed into a committed romance, and Hawke started to practice blood magic after recognising that Merrill could do so without being "evil". The two of them eventually also developed feelings for Isabela, and as such she joined their romance as well.

By Act 3, Hawke had become a staunch supporter of mage rights, a dedicated member of the Underground, and wholeheartedly supported Anders’ choice to destroy Kirkwall’s Chantry.

Following the destruction of the Chantry, Hawke and her friends fled Kirkwall, splitting up despite Hawke desperately wanting them to remain together. Isabela and Merrill chose to remain with Hawke, and the three of them traveled across the Free Marches, occasionally running into Anders and assisting him in rescuing mages from rebelling Circles. Eventually, Isabela managed to acquire a new crew, and her partners were more than happy to sail with her as she established herself once again as the Queen of the Eastern Seas.

INQUISITION

Depending on the player’s choices in Here Lies The Abyss, Hawke can be convinced to stay and help the Inquisition further instead of accompanying the remaining Wardens to Weisshaupt, becoming a full companion. She will move to sit with Varric by the fire in the main hall. Hawke will also be present in Varric’s companion cutscene where he invites the Inquisitor to play Wicked Grace.

Upon first being recruited to the Inquisition, Hawke’s specialisation is not available - when automatically leveled, she will put points primarily into the Inferno and Storm trees. Her unique specialisation, Blood Mage, only becomes available if the Inquisitor has allied with the mages at Redcliffe. At that point, Hawke will initiate a conversation with the Inquisitor about their opinions on blood magic, and if the Inquisitor states that they have no problem with it, her specialisation will open. Otherwise, she will refuse to admit her use of blood magic to the Inquisitor.

At this point, Hawke will also speak more openly about her support of Anders. She will eventually admit that they are still in contact, though she won't tell the Inquisitor anything that could give them an idea of Anders’ whereabouts.

Her specialisation is not open to the Inquisitor, however Hawke can offer to teach a mage Inquisitor "a neat trick", which will give the player the choice to replace their current Focus ability with Hawke's.

BLOOD MAGE

Upon unlocking Hawke's specialisation, she will gain a large increase to her Constitution but her mana bar will become considerably shorter, and conventional healing effects will only operate at 25% efficiency. If she is out of mana, she will automatically revert to using her health pool to power her spells instead.

Her spell tree is very similar to the Dragon Age 2 Blood Mage tree, however it does not include the Blood Slave ability - it is instead replaced with Blood Bomb, which is a variant of Walking Bomb. Instead of applying a damage over time curse to a target, Hawke channels a spell that corrupts the targets' blood from the inside until the target dies - at which point they explode, doing damage to nearby enemies. This spell continually consumes Hawke's mana and health while it is being channeled.

Her Focus ability is Major Sacrifice, a variant of the Knight-Enchanter's Resurgence. Instead of healing the party to full health and providing an ongoing healing aura, Major Sacrifice will instead heal the party to full health but take 25% of Hawke's current health, and will provide an aura of ongoing damage to nearby enemies, converting their health into health for the party.

VARRIC'S PERSONAL QUEST IN VALAMMAR

If the Inquisitor brings Hawke to Valammar, she will be suspiciously quiet throughout the quest - though she will pipe up to complain about the Darkspawn. Following the reveal that Bianca shared the location of the thaig, Hawke will be furious and will argue with her.

Upon returning to Skyhold and speaking to Varric, the cutscene will begin in the middle of a conversation between him and Hawke.

HAWKE: You deserve better, you know. VARRIC: Yeah, you've said that before. HAWKE: It bears repeating. As many times as it takes to get it through your thick head. You deserve so much better. VARRIC: *sigh* Thanks, Chuckles.

APPROVAL AND ROMANCE

Hawke is not romanceable, though she welcomes playful flirting from a female Inquisitor. She will eventually initiate a conversation where she makes sure the Inquisitor isn't expecting the flirting to go anywhere further, as she is already in a relationship.

RIAN APPROVES OF: Supporting mage freedom, open-mindedness with magic and spirits, sarcasm, humor, stealing from nobility, pranking nobility, loyalty to your friends, being nice to Varric, terrible puns.

RIAN DISAPPROVES OF: Chantry rhetoric, the Circles, Templars, Tranquility, authority, betraying your friends, ignorance, pomposity, being mean to Varric.

Hawke will not leave the Inquisition, even if her approval is at Hostile. When questioned about this, she will say:

HAWKE: Did you miss the part where Corypheus is my responsibility? I’m going to fix my fuck-up, Inquisitor. If I have to put up with you while I do it, then, well … I’ve always said the Maker has a sick sense of humor.

TRESPASSER

Following Corypheus' defeat, Hawke leaves the Inquisition to rejoin Merrill and Isabela.

Once Trespasser is started, Hawke can be found accompanying Varric and Bran to the Winter Palace.

During exploration of the Eluvians, if both Hawke and Varric are in the party, they will briefly discuss how excited Merrill would be by all this, and Hawke will say "You'd better be writing all this down, Varric."

She will approve of redeeming Solas, though she won't disapprove if the Inquisitor decides they would rather kill him.

High Approval

If Varric has chosen to give the Inquisitor an estate in Kirkwall, Hawke will pipe up during the conversation saying she's excited to be neighbors, offering to give the Inquisitor the key to her wine cellar - though she will complain that Varric has never given her control of the harbor, to which Bran will mutter "thank the Maker".

Regardless of the Inquisition's fate, Hawke will return to her lovers, occasionally keeping in touch with the Inquisitor via letters.

Low Approval

If the Inquisitor has low approval with Hawke, they will be informed that she left as soon as the Inquisitor stepped back out of the Eluvian following the final confrontation with Solas. The epilogue slides will state that her whereabouts are, once again, unknown.

COMBAT COMMENTS

Killing an enemy

And stay down!

One more for me. We’re keeping score, right?

Have at you!

How’s my hair looking? (COMBAT ENDS)

I wonder what’s in their pockets. (COMBAT ENDS)

Oh, ew. I’m not cleaning that up. (COMBAT ENDS)

Low Health

This is going badly!

Little help, maybe?

Why are none of you healers?

This hurts! This really hurts!

Low Health (Companions)

INQUISITOR: You good over there, boss?

VARRIC: Varric, that blood better not be yours!

COLE: Help the kid!

CASSANDRA: They’re swarming the Seeker!

BLACKWALL: Hang on, Beardy!

IRON BULL: Bull’s in trouble!

Fallen Companions

INQUISITOR: Shit! Trevelyan/Lavellan/Adaar/Cadash is down!

VARRIC: Don’t you dare leave me now, Varric!

COLE: Cole! No!

CASSANDRA: Seeker is down! How did they manage that?

SOLAS: Come on, Solas!

DORIAN: Help Dorian!

SERA: Awful quiet, isn’t it? Oh shit, Sera!

LOCATION COMMENTS

(first time seeing a High Dragon) *laughing* "Oh, this will be fun!" IF VARRIC IS IN THE PARTY: "Hawke, the last time you fought one of these you nearly died." "Yeah, but I didn't die. That's the important thing."

(approaching a campsite) "Well ... I've slept in worse places."

(when collecting a Shard) "Let me guess. We have to collect a stupid amount of these for a really stupid reason, and they're all going to be in really stupid, hard to reach places. *sighs* I love adventuring."

HINTERLANDS

"Have we been here before? Feels like we've been here before."

(upon unlocking the cabin in Redcliffe with the Tranquil skulls) "That's ... fucking Maker. Tranquil have always made me uncomfortable but ... they were still people. They were still... shit, I need a second."

FALLOW MIRE

"Eugh, that smell! Worse than my dog when he's eaten cheese, and that's saying something."

(upon killing Widris) "Something, something, crazy mages ... "

"Oh, walking corpses. That's nice."

STORM COAST

(upon seeing the dragon vs giant fight) *laughing* "Oh, that's brilliant!"

"Not to sound like Varric, but why are there so many bloody hills around here? My legs hurt."

EXALTED PLAINS

"Maker, I hate Orlais."

(finding Valorin's corpse) *sighs* "Might sound a little hypocritical coming from me, but ... blood magic is not for the careless."

(seeing the ruined bridge, if Varric is in the party) "Hey Varric - " "Don't you dare, Hawke." "C'mon, please?" "You are not tossing me!" "Spoilsport."

EMERALD GRAVES

"I've always thought it was beautiful how the Dalish bury their dead under a tree sprout. Like ... I don't know, maybe death doesn't have to be the end."

HISSING WASTES

"There's sand in ... places. So many places."

"Have I said I hate sand? Because I hate sand."

EMPRISE DU LION

(seeing Red Lyrium) "Maybe don't touch that. It'll do all kinds of weird shit to you."

"I'm fucking freezing. When can we go home?"

(seeing Red Lyrium giants) "What the fuck?"

(Elfsblood River rift - near the lady with titsicles) *giggles*

SHRINE OF DUMAT

"I'm getting the weirdest sense of deja vu." IF VARRIC IS IN THE PARTY: "You're not the only one."

DEEP ROADS (THE DESCENT)

"Why do I always end up back in the Deep Roads? Am I cursed?"

COMPANION COMMENTS

VARRIC: "I was worried about what would happen if I brought her here, but ... it's nice to have Hawke around again."

CASSANDRA: "I have to admit, I do admire the Champion. A woman who built herself up from nothing to defeat the Arishok ... there's a certain romance to Varric's stories about her."

SOLAS: "I've been informed that Varric also calls Hawke "Chuckles". I ... don't see how we are similar."

DORIAN: "Hawke? Oh, I like her. She's not as daft as she acts."

BLACKWALL: "The other night, I found her getting teary-eyed in the tavern over how much she misses her dog. Don't quite know what to make of that, really."

VIVIENNE: "She is a powerful mage, I'll give her that, but she's also a naive fool. No wonder Kirkwall fell to pieces around her."

IRON BULL: "She's fun. Got a lot going on in that head she doesn't talk about, though."

COLE: "Fleeing, fighting, falling. Failed father, failed mother, failed Beth and Carver too. Fire and freedom, and she knows it's right but it still feels wrong. Old wounds that never healed, sometimes she can still taste the blood in her mouth. You chose to save her. She wishes you chose differently."

SERA: "Thought she'd be scary, but she makes me laugh. Hasn't let owning a mansion get to her head, either, and have you seen those arms? She's strong."

CULLEN: "I'd ... rather not talk about her, if you don't mind. We've a less than friendly history."

JOSEPHINE: "Lady Hawke is charming, certainly, but I cannot imagine her being popular amongst her neighbours in Hightown. She throws the very concept of decorum bodily out of the window."

LELIANA: "I knew her when she lived in Lothering. She didn't seem to like the Chantry much, but she was always sweet, and her jokes made me laugh. It's a little odd to see the woman she's grown into."

TRIVIA

Malcolm also made sure he trained Hawke in using a sword. She's not very good at it, preferring instead to use her staff as a melee weapon if an enemy gets too close.

She has a mean right hook.

Her and Varric have matching tattoos on their left buttcheeks.

Despite being Ferelden and adoring her own mabari, Hawke has a preference for cats.

She's awful at singing. She sings a lot anyway.

#oc as companion #who goes to weisshaupt instead of hawke? i don't know and i don't care #rian

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rk1kheadcanons · 4 years

Note

smol hc: Being the only RK models, CyberLife used some of Markus's base code in Connor's program. Emotions & empathy for social integration, and also some caretaking protocols in case emergency repairs/first aid are needed on the job (IE reactivating the Traci at the Eden Club, or diagnosing & "treating" Hank's ethylic coma LOL). I love the idea of Con getting to take care of Markus for once if he gets injured doing Rebel Leader Things™

🥺 Anon. I love this HC so much. Connor having some caretaker protocols is...yes. Absolutely. The jury is out and they find the defendant correct.

___

When Markus limped into his office, practically hopping on one foot every other step, all he wanted to do was bulldoze through his paperwork so he could go home and forget today ever happened. He’d taken a pretty hard hit earlier when a counter protester at their rally thought it was just a capital idea to hurl a brick into the crowd. Much more surprising than the sudden brick to the knee, though, was the (almost terrifying in it’s rapidness) reaction from the crowd. The guy was immediately apprehended and cursed out by human supporters and androids alike. It was wild. His bodyguards barely had to do any work. Markus swore he heard a human yell that thirium shots were on them after this, amidst a chorus of responding cheers. Nothing brings people together like a communal ass whoopin’? Apparently??

God he really hoped that human didn’t drink any thirium. Markus still had nightmares about Leo accidentally mixing up his blue raspberry jello shot with his drink, nevermind the fact that thirium consumables smelled like laundry detergent and poison as purposeful deterrents.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go see the technician?” said Simon who, as his designated babysitter while North and Josh handled the fallout of the rally, followed into his office after him.

“Naaahh,” Markus drawled, waving the hand that was grasping a pen as if he could wave away the problem altogether. Not for the first time he wished the government would catch up with the rest of the world and just go paperless. Reading over and signing these tedious documents would be a lot less painful to do if they would just let him download it into his mind like a sensible person would. “I barely feel it, plus my Regenerative Program has already kicked in. By the time I get to the med bay it’ll probably be all fixed.”

“Uh huh,” Simon unconvinced at him. “How long till you’re repaired.”

Markus pulled up the damage report in his HUD. “About six…” he stared at the readings for a moment longer and, much to Simon’s chagrin, went back to doing his paperwork.

“...six what?”

“Bahhh,” Markus waved his hand again unhelpfully. Truthfully, he didn’t know how to make this sound better. Hopefully, his innate charm would cover for his trash convincing. “Ya know…”

“No. I do not know. What is it? Six minutes?”

Markus grunted.

“Hours!?”

Markus slumped lower in his chair. “Mmmhumph.”

“....Markus,” Simon started in a low warning voice. “If it’s days so help me I’m going to take out your other knee - ”

The door slammed open, startling Simon out of his threat, which was definitely about to escalate to more than Markus’ other knee once he found out it was six weeks.

“Connor!”

“Good morning Simon,” Connor greeted briskly, expression stormy as he made a beeline for Markus like the man possesses on a mission that he usually was. He was swinging a rather large, rather ominous looking tool box with a red medical cross painted on it. Markus didn’t even stop doing his paperwork. He knew the drill by now. “I heard about what happened and came as fast as I could.”

“Wow, the news has only been out for an hou - wait. Weren’t you in Ohio?”

“Yes. I would have been here sooner but traffic was heavier than usual and the family driving the Escalade was surprisingly insistent on going the speed limit. A majority of police officers won't cite drivers for going between 1-5 miles per hour over,” Connor rolled his eyes and scoffed, like he didn’t follow some laws down to the letter while blatantly disregarding others at any given time.

“Wha - did you hitchhike all the way here!?”

“Oh no of course not! There is a 46% chance of violent or criminal conduct committed against people who hitchhike.”

“Then how - ”

“I was sitting on top of the aforementioned Escalade.”

Markus gave him his best ‘why are you like this’ stare while Simon gaped in perplexion. “You didn’t need to car surf just to come all the way down here, hon.”

“After hearing about the state you were in, with all my love in the world I violently disagree.”

Markus sighed like a man whose knee wasn’t sparking and twitching at this very moment. And...hm. Maybe it did ache. A teeny bit. Whatever. He was still of the opinion that rubbing some dirt on it and a little stretching was enough to get him through the rest of the day.

“Well, maybe you can help me convince him to go to the technician,” said Simon.

“No need.” Without preamble, Connor plopped the heavy med(?) box on the floor and gently lifted Markus’ leg, hiking up his pants up to the thigh. As he examined it, intense as any jeweler examining a rare diamond, he hooked the back of a nearby stool with his foot and pulled it over, resting the leg on it. Markus neither struggled nor visually reacted; just kept stringently doing his paperwork like nothing was going on.

When Connor pulled out a collapsible creeper seat and rolled under Markus’ leg as if he were a mechanic working on a car, Simon went from passive observer to concernedly going around the desk to see what all the RK800 was doing.

“H-hey wait a second! Connor - it’s a pretty serious wound, maybe we should let the professionals handle it!”

Connor rolled slightly from under Markus with a large drill in his hand and an unimpressed look on his face. Surprisingly, Simon was not reassured by this in the slightest. “I assure you Simon that I am fully equipped with the latest caretaking protocols now could you please pass me that monkey wrench.”

“What seriously- UHH! I mean...” Realizing how insulting that sounded, Simon hurried to hand Connor the tool, clearing his throat. “I didn’t realize you had such uh...versatile programing.”

“It’s the same base code used in mine, actually,” Markus added, using his free hand to pat Connor’s soothingly when he heard him grumbling things like “I can do more than kill things” and “No one has been irreparably maimed in my Knitting Circle”. Damn right honey, Markus thought, Greta and Patrica have had nothing but nice things to say about you’re wool socks.

“Oh riiiiiight. You two are from the same model line, I…” Markus could practically Jedi Sense Simon about to say ‘I forget that sometimes’, so he looked up at the PL600 and shook his head firmly with glaring eyes. Simon, sheepish, held up his hands placatingly and held his tongue.

“The code...has been streamlined to cater more towards field and emergency repairs,” Connor admitted reluctantly, but then quickly added, “but combined with my own personal research outside of my programming, it is no less effective.”

Eager to keep his foot out of his mouth, Simon merely nodded in agreement. He couldn’t, however, keep the growing alarm showing from his face as Connor pulled more and more absurd tools out of his box (the electric saw was particularly disconcerting), and started contorting around Markus so that he wasn’t interfering with his work in ways that at first, seemed normal, but were steadily becoming more on par with a cirque du soleil act. That alarm changed into bewilderment when he tilted Markus’ chair back, put a car jack under his desk so that it tilted forward at the perfect writing level, put a pillow behind his head and a fizzy thirium drink (complete with a fun crazy straw) in his mouth. His standard office setup now suddenly a mini spa.

When Connor started working a polisher to his knee Markus practically melted back into the chair. Oh that sneaky bastard. He knew Markus wouldn’t be able to get anything done by administering the android equivalent of a deep tissue massage.

Bewilderment now firmly settled on amusement, and thoroughly reassured that his friend/boss was in good hands, Simon started to take his leave. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it Connor. If you need back up to make sure this guy takes it easy we’re all on stand by.”

Connor nodded. “I will escort him home for further recuperation as soon as I have finalized his repairs.”

Markus, eyes closed as he happily sipped at his Particle-Colada, grunted in response to Simon’s farewell. He was a little annoyed that everyone was treating him like a toddler over his small injury, and a little more annoyed that Simon had felt the need to hover around Connor, as if he were bracing for the RK800 to do something violent, before trusting his good intentions. Granted, Markus (begrudgingly) could admit that Connor’s methods certainly weren’t...standard caretaker protocols, and that his bedside manner was well...much like the android himself; aggressive, confusing, and, most importantly, well-meaning.

“‘Can’t go home,” Markus murmured around his straw, very convincingly and not at all like he was about to ascend to a higher plane. “Still got work to do.”

“Hmm. Do you now?” With a fond, humoring, smile, Connor cranked up the power on the polisher. Markus swore his soul was straight vibin’.

Yea, actually. Maybe work could wait till tomorrow.

#Detroit Become Human #Markus/Connor #RK1000 #conkus #emiliaf25 ask reply #RK1K #Dr. Connor Medicine Woman #Connor and Markus both have caretaker protocols

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yayeetsonny · 4 years

Text

Keeping Secrets~USWNT x Baby Reader

Prompt: Team finds out baby r has epilepsy.

Requested by: @khiaraaa-in-spacee

TW: Depictions of seizures and mentions of them.

Y/N PRO//

My name is Y/N L/N and I have epilepsy. Having epilepsy is hard because a lot of people assume that there is just the one kind, where a person suddenly falls to the ground and experiences uncontrollable muscle movement. While that is a common form that it can take there are several other types. Like mine, I experience Typical absence seizures, this means that when I am experiencing one I stop whatever it was I was doing and it can look like I’m frozen or zoning out, my eyelids flutter quite a bit and my ams jerk slightly sometimes too. When these happen I don’t realize it until it’s over. Most of the time I have several in a row so when everything is over I tend to be a little confused.

I try not to let it define my life. I’m also a member of the United States Women’s National soccer team. I’m the youngest player on the squad at 15 and the team is over protective to say the least. They tend to overdue it by a lot when we’re on the field, for example if I go down injured at all they swarm me, asking if I’m okay a million times and calling the medical staff over for the tiniest injuries.. Off the field is much the same, they wake me up at the same time every morning because

“Having a routine is important.”

Christen has told me this a thousand times, doesn’t mean I like being woken up at 5:30 am everyday, off days included. (That is unless I’m sick, then they make me hate naps) Once I’m up they make me get dressed and they carry me down to the dining hall where all the food is set up. When they first started doing this I protested being carried, citing that I was a big girl and I had two legs that worked perfectly fine but, after a look from Ali and Ashlyn I just let it happen. The veterans of the team also stormed the coaching staff’s office demanding that they find a way to make breakfast available for me (and them) when I wake up. They didn’t do this to be snobby or high maintenance they say its because

“If don’t eat right away in the morning, you get grouchy.”

I don’t, but they think I do so I just let them have it and eat by 6 everyday.

I haven’t told the team that I have epilepsy because I don’t want to scare them or freak them out. It’s not that I’m ashamed of it or anything it’s just that I don’t want them to feel like they have to worry about me even more than they already do.

“Hey Y/N! You in there?” Kelley asks appearing out of nowhere.

“What? Oh, sorry what’s up?”

“We just wanted to see if you wanted to go to the coffee shop around the corner with us.”

She pointed to nearly half the team, including all the vets who were looking at me with concern written all over their faces.

“I think I’ll stay here, thanks anyways.”

“Are you sure? You love that place.” Kelley said frowning.

She was right, I had never turned down going there, especially with her. I wasn’t going to tell her this but I had forgot to take my seizure medicine so I need to stay back to take it before I forgot.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay, well, we’ll bring you something back then.”

“Y/N?” Christen grabbed my hand before I could start walking to the elevators to go back to my room.

“Yeah Chris?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I just wanna make sure. You know, me and the other veterans wouldn’t mind staying with you. We could hang here and watch movies or play board games or if you want we could all lay down and nap together, I know how much you love the “Cuddle puddle” we create.”

“I’m okay, really. Go have fun with the others. I think I’m just gonna go read my book in my room.”

“Okay, see you later.”

She gave me a hug before leaving, I watched as she explained what we talked about to the other vets and I saw several of them turn back to look at me. I shrugged at them before turning on my heel and heading back to my room.

Once there, I took my medicine out of its hiding place, making sure to take the right dosage I then put it back and make sure it would stay hidden. I had to hide it because the girls always double check my bag before we leave any where we’ve stayed to make sure I have all my stuff. It’s nice sometimes but it also can get a little annoying.

There was a sudden knock at my door making me jump a little. Who could that be? The players who stayed behind were those that loved to nap and or they didn’t like coffee and almost all of them needed to have there alone time so getting a visitor is rare. After looking through the peephole I saw it was my roommate and best friend Morgan.

“Hey Moe! I thought you went with the others?” I said as I let her in.

“I did but I forgot my sunglasses. Have you seen them?”

“Um, I think you left them on the bathroom sink.”

“Oh that’s right! Okay, well got ‘em! See you later.”

“See you.”

After she left I was able to go back to reading my book, It was pretty peaceful and I had almost made it half way through when I stopped. The book fell out of my hands and onto the floor with a loud thud.

My eyelids fluttered and my fingers twitched and then just like that it was over. They only last 10-20 seconds, which isn’t long at all but for me it often feels like hours before I am aware of my surroundings again. Okay, there’s one. Am I going to have more?

My medicine has reduced them but it doesn’t stop them completely and some days it doesn’t work at all. I would go to a doctor to fix the prescription but since I can’t drive and the girls don’t know I just leave it be.

“Oh boy, today is gonna be a long day.” I say to no one but myself before I slowly stand up and go to the sink to splash water on my face.

We have practice in 45 minutes and I know the girls will want me to be ready a few minutes early. After I take my time changing into my gear and double checking that I do indeed look okay I make my way down to the lobby so that I can get on the bus before everyone else. I choose to sit all the way in the back and put my earbuds in so they know I don’t want to be bothered. But it seems Megan didn’t get the memo because she sits down right next to me and yanks the earbud out of my ear, putting it in her own.

“Hey kid, where you been? We brought back your favorite drink but you weren’t in your room.”

“I’ve been here.” I say shortly

“Okay?”

“Sorry I’m just tired.”

“You should’ve taken a nap before practice Y/N. What have we told you about that?”

“That I get grouchy without one, I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes! I’m sorry, okay? I forgot, I’ll take one when we get back.”

“I’ll be having a discussion with Carli, Chris, Alex, and the others about what we can do to help you remember.” She said leaving no room for argument.

Ugh, I hate when they have “Veteran meetings” about me. After they’ve decided something, they sit me down and all crowd around me so that if I get upset, they can comfort me. 98% of the time whatever they tell me isn’t a big deal, like a curfew. I can deal with that or even an early bedtime when I get sick or injured. But I draw the line on some things.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me Y/N.”

“Whatever.”

“Are we gonna have to talk about your attitude too?”

“No. Sorry.”

“Mhm, what I thought.”

We finally arrived at the training facility we were practicing at this camp before our up coming international friendlies, and I grabbed my stuff and ran off the bus so I wouldn’t have to deal with Megan giving me the look anymore.

“Y/N! Walk please!” I heard Alex shout from behind me but I ignored her.

Ali PRO//

“Okay is it just me or she acting weird?” I asked, concerned for our youngest teammate

“Mmm, she’s just in a mood.” Megan said

“Okay, but she knows how we feel about her running anywhere that’s not the field, she’s the clumsiest kid we know. Plus, she always listens to me.” Alex said

She made a good point, she listened to all of us 9 times out of 10, some more than others but still. We all just stood there, letting the young players off first while we continued discussing our kid’s weird behavior.

“Hey guys?”

“Yeah Ash?”

“What’s this?”

She held up a pill bottle that none of us had seen before. On it in big bold letters, was the name Y/N L/N and it was a medicine called Ethosuximide with the name (Zarontin) in parentheses. What the hell?

“What is that and why does she have it?” Christen asked angrily.

“I don’t know but I’m gonna find out right now.” Ashlyn said as she stomped off the bus.

“Ash, Ash hold on!”

I stood in front of her trying to get her to stop walking.

“Why?”

“I know you, you aren’t going to let her explain and you’ll jump to conclusions.”

“What’s there to explain Ali? None of us have ever seen her take pills before and we all know she doesn’t have any medical conditions. We made Vlatko give us her file remember?”

“Yes but you should still let her explain.”

Ashyln was growing more upset and I was having a hard time keeping her at bay. As we got closer to the locker room the players who were already on the field or heading out attention was drawn to our argument.

“Ash, cool it. Young ones in the vicinity.” Alex said referring to the “youngins” as Becky called them.

“I don’t care. I’m talking to her right now.”

There was nothing me, Alex or any of the other veterans could do to stop her from storming into the locker room.

“Y/N Y/M L/N!”

She came over to the front of the room quickly, startled and looking slightly terrified. She had yet to spot the pill bottle Ashyln was holding behind her back.

“Yeah Ash? What’s up?”

“ “What’s up?” she says. What’s up? That’s all you have to say?” Ashlyn had a bite to her tone that made me shiver. She can be mad intimidating when she wants to be.

“Yes?”

“What’s up Y/N, is this.”

As soon as she saw what she was holding all the color drained from Y/N’s face and I was afraid she might faint.

“Y/N… Sweetie, you’re okay. We’re just a little worried about you.” Chris said stepping forward and blocking her view of Ashlyn’s “Mean face”

She tried to reach for Y/N but she turned away from her and made a move to leave.

“Uh you know, I really should get out on the field with the others. See you guys out there!”

Alex grabbed her around the waist and held her in her arms tightly so she couldn’t go anywhere. She tried to get her to let go but gave up when she realized Alex was too strong.

“Shhh, deep breaths. You’re okay. It’s just us. It’s okay.” Alex cooed softly in her ear.

I could tell that she was scared and was trying not to let her walls down.

“It-it’s not anything bad I swear!”

“Really, then what is it?”

“It’s just… can we just talk about it later? Please.”

“No, what is this and why do you have it?”

“I- Please just let me go practice.”

“Y/N…”

“I have epilepsy, okay?! There, can I go practice please?”

She freed herself from Alex and ran out onto the field. We all chased after her and Christen tried to catch her but she was saved by the whistle.

“Ladies! Let’s go, stop messing around and get to work!” Dawn yelled, we knew it was directed at us.

After that we had no choice but to let it go and practice. We did the usual, stretching and warm up and then position group training, individual for some and scrimmages to end the session. Were half way through a scrimmage whenI noticed Y/N stop moving. It was like she was frozen, she wasn’t moving except for her arms that were jerking slightly and I could see her eyelids fluttering. She must be having a seizure. I thought. I rushed over to her stopping practice and tried everything to get her to snap out of it. Many of our teammates also tried to no avail and everyone was gathered around her unsure of what to do.

“Okay let’s give her some space.” Ashlyn said

I stayed close in case I had to prevent her from falling and hitting her head or needed to do anything else to help her.

She continued to seize, each one only lasted 10 seconds but she had 5 in a row and when those had stopped she only came to for a few seconds before she started to experience a second wave. In total she was unresponsive for almost a minute and half straight. Christen had put her arms on her shoulders, trying to let her know she was there.

“Y/N, it’s okay. We’re here. You’re okay.”

“What do we do?”

“We just have to let her know we’re here.”

“What’s going on? Is she okay?”

Several of the younger players looked scared and unsure of what to do, so Tobin and Megan took them away from where Y/N was and tried to reassure them she was gonna be okay.

Y/N PRO//

Everything finally started to come back into focus and at this point I had been moved to the ground and I was sitting in Chris’s lap as she held me. When I was fully out of the state I had been in I started to try to push her away, I was disoriented and confused and I didn’t remember what I was doing here.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. Y/N you’re safe, it’s okay.” Becky said as I settled down and the rest of the team begin trying to help me.

Chris held me the whole time, cooing in my ear and trying to keep me calm. Everything was super loud and my mind and body had gone into sensory overload trying to come back to practice. When I realized what happened and I was able, I pushed my way out of Christen’s arms, and ran back to the locker room. After that I ignored everyone and their questions about what was going on. I was the first back on the bus and had planned to continue ignoring everyone. The Vets of the team had other ideas however and put an end to it quickly.

“You feeling better little one?”

“Yeah Al, I am.”

“That was really scary.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about babe. But can I ask you something?” Ali said

“Sure, shoot.”

“Did you take your medicine today?”

“Yeah, I did it just doesn’t work well.” I said timidly

“What do you mean?”

“It’s the right dosage, it just doesn’t work well enough most of the time.”

“Why didn’t you get it adjusted?”

“I didn’t want anyone to find out about it.”

“That’s dangerous, you know that right?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I know you were scared. We’ll take you to get it adjusted as soon as possible.”

“Thank you.”

When we got back to the hotel I dropped off my stuff and decided to go for a walk. I needed to think about some things, and I knew the girls wanted to have a more in depth talk about what happened but I wasn’t ready. Eventually though I made my way back to the room and when I opened the door my roommate was there to greet me.

“Hey babe! You came back to me!’ Moe said dramatically as I entered our room.

“I’ll always come back to you, baby.” I said jokingly

“You better. My life is so boring without you!”

“I am the life of the party I’ve been told.”

“Ha ha, If anyone is the life of the party its Crystal. Girl can dance.”

“Definitely.”

“Have you talked to the others since we got back?”

“Uhh... no. I’m sorta avoiding them.” I said rubbing the back of my neck.

“You know that they’ll want to talk to you about it eventually right? I’m sure they’re worried about you.”

I was unsure of what to do because I didn’t really want to talk to them about it but I knew I had to. After another hour of avoiding it, I got up and made my way to Alex’s room. I knocked on the door timidly and waited for it to open.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just was wondering if I could talk to you all?” I said as I saw almost all the older players in her room.

“Of course.”

We got to talking about what happened and I told them about the condition I had and when it first appeared and all the while Alex held me in her lap, cooing in my ear when I would start to get emotional and the others sat around us doing there best to let me know they were there.

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Ashlyn asked

“I was just afraid.”

“You don’t ever have to be afraid to tell us these things. I’m sorry you felt the need to hide it from us.” JJ said.

“I know today was scary for everyone. I think I should tell the whole team everything soon.”

“Are you sure? You shouldn’t feel like you have to, if you’re not ready that’s okay too.”

“I am, it’s okay. Will you guys be there?”

“Of course, always.”

“I love you guys.”

“We love you too.”

I knew that some of them were still a little hurt that I hadn’t told them sooner or they felt bad because they weren’t able to protect me but I knew we would be okay.

we agreed to be more honest with each other going forward and When it came time for me to tell the entire team the older players were there to support me and help me explain everything. They were all super supportive and assured me that they didn’t see me any differently.

After our heart to heart we decided to do some much needed team bonding.

Rose showed me a Tick tok of a bulldog trying to reach a cake that was just out of its reach and failing (or succeeding) spectacularly as it splattered in the floor.

“Wilma would totally do this!” I said laughing at the thought of Rose’s dog doing something similar.

“She totally would but I would give her a hand.” Rose giggled.

Kelley succeeded in putting a cup on her head with only her feet and I was in awe of her flexibility. I attempted to do the same but I failed miserably and pouted as everyone laughed at me.

“Good try kid. You’ll get it eventually.” Kel said.

We ended up playing cup pong (the clean version), Jenga, Sorry, Truth or Dare, and twister. We also tried playing hide and seek through out the hotel but we got in trouble with the managerial staff and almost got the whole team kicked out. Let’s just say that Vlatko was not too pleased…

Sam, Rose, Sonnett, Lindsey and Mal choreographed a new dance and performed it for everyone. We all watched for over an hour as these knuckleheads tried to get it all down perfectly.

“Oh my god you guys, try again tomorrow when you actually know the dance.” Tobin said exasperated

“No, no we can do this. Right guys?”

“Yes we can.”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Just give us a minute.”

“We got this.”

We watched on as they tried and failed to prove that they had it, but we all gave them an A+ for effort anyways.

“We would have gotten it, if you guys had just been patient enough.” Sam grumbled.

“We watched for over an hour, you know this team, they can’t sit still forever.” I giggled.

“I guess you’ve got a point.” Sam chuckled.

“Hey! We’re not that bad at sitting still.” Kelley protested.

“Uh, yeah Kel. We are.”

The whole team giggled at that and agreed that together asking us to sit still for long periods was useless.

After that we made pies and cupcakes and they were actually really good, but things took a turn when I decided to smash Ali’s face in a pie. She then chased me down the hall trying to get me back.

“Y/N, get back here!”

“Becky! Save me!”

“No way kid. Not trying to get punched.” She said before she closed her door.

“Traitor!” I yelled as I continued to run from a pissed off Ali Krieger.

She eventually caught up to me and attacked me with kisses and tickles. I ended up covered head to toe in pie filling after she got hers all over me and then found another one and got revenge.

“Aw man, you got me.” I said as I giggled wildly as she tickled me some more.

“This whole team loves you so much. You know that right?” Alex would later tell me that night as we all snuggled on the two beds in the room I shared with Morgan.

“Yeah, I know. I love you guys too.”

They drive me nuts with the constant hovering and weird, silly rules they make me follow but I am so grateful to have them in my life and to have such an amazing group of friends who love and support me no matter what. Me and my 23 best friends are family for life and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

THE END

If I got anything wrong, I’m so sorry. I did the best research that I could. Sorry for any mistakes.

-N

#uswnt #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #alex morgan #ashlyn harris #ali krieger #becky sauerbrunn #christen press #morgan brian #crystal dunn #megan rapinoe #tobin heath #kelley o'hara #sam mewis #mal pugh #rose lavelle #lindsey horan #emily sonnett

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yonqha · 4 years

Text

—- 📞

speed dial

the light bulb in your room goes bust, and you needed someone to fix it fast. you had absolutely no clue on how to change a light bulb. but allen ma, your ex-boyfriend, knows how.

allen x reader oneshot (requested) // semi-angst, fluff (?)

word count: 1.9k words

a/n: this was just lightly edited (i got too lazy) lmao so pls excuse any errors >< and :D let me know if y’all want an alternate ending for this i might write and post one soon ^^

masterlist

heavy hands on the keyboard, the smell of coffee suspended in the air, and light illuminating your weary face. this was the current situation as you were busy typing away your report for work. your hours at the office were seemingly not enough for the amount of tasks you needed to do, hence the urge to continue work at home instead of taking your time to rest.

you gave yourself no breaks, wanting to finish this as quickly as possible to stay on track. the only breaks you considered were mini sips of the instant coffee by your side and fast trips to the bathroom. notifications from your phone didn’t bother you at all, you were that driven to finish this report as soon as you could.

but the main light in your room didn’t seem to favor that. after taking a sip from your coffee mug, it flickered a few times and decided to die on you. the room suddenly went dark, minus the light coming from your laptop. this made you groan in frustration. standing up, you went to the light switch just by the door to check. you turned it on and off but to no avail-- it’s a busted light.

a loud sigh came out of your mouth. out of all the things that could happen, your light had to die on you. you thought of just continuing to work without the light, but your eyes were starting to get strained from looking at the screen for hours. this made you regret not buying a desk lamp in the first place.

you had to think of a solution, you didn’t want to stall for too long as you might lose your energy to work. grabbing your phone from the desk, you opened your contacts to try and see if you could call an electrician. but upon seeing the time, you immediately gave up.

there is no way an electrician would go to your place at 2 in the morning.

plus, the time for them to get here? you couldn’t wait that long.

so you decided for plan b: going to wikihow to search how to change a busted light bulb. scrolling through the steps, you just got more and more confused. you don’t even know how to differentiate light bulbs, how on earth are you going to change one by yourself?

so you settled for plan c: finding someone on your contact list that knows how to change a light bulb (and is possibly still awake at this hour). you paced back and forth inside your room, scanning each name in your contacts to find anyone that can help you.

your eyes then fell on a certain name, making your feet halt immediately. does this person know how to change light bulbs? yes. is this person still awake at this hour? you’re definitely sure about that. does this person live relatively close to you? yeah, somewhat.

but are you sure you want to call your ex-boyfriend to help change your broken light bulb? no answer.

you didn’t want to bother him, probably cooped up in his studio busy producing tracks like he always does. but you have no other option, well, unless you want to cite the rest of the alphabet starting from the letter d for other plans.

you took a deep breath. ‘you have a report to finish, y/n. get yourself together.’

you dialled his number and put the phone to your ear. it only took a couple of rings before the male answered. “hey, allen? i need some….help.”

just a few minutes after the call, allen was already by your doorstep ringing the doorbell. you took one quick look at the mirror to fix yourself, thinking you might be a complete mess from doing work, and opened the front door.

your eyes met and you swear you could feel the butterflies enter your stomach. those same pesky butterflies that gave you that fluttering feeling whenever you were with the male. you mentally cursed. you thought you’re already moving on from him, but it seems not. your body can’t lie, what else could be a possible explanation for this? the coffee?

yeah, probably.

“hey, y/n.” allen greeted, giving you a small smile.

“hey.” you replied back. sensing the forming awkward atmosphere, you moved aside to give allen space to enter your unit. it honestly felt weird for you to be letting allen in like this, especially when you’re used to him just entering the unit without your help. after all, this used to be allen’s apartment as well. the both of you lived together in this space you both could call home.

without hesitation, allen headed to the room just by the kitchen. “everything’s still here, right?” he pointed at the door. standing by the kitchen counter, you nodded in reply.

“i never really touched that room, you were the one who took care of it after all.” you commented as allen turned the knob. he opened the door to see that his arrangement of the supplies inside remained as it was. he let out a chuckle. “i can definitely see that.”

after getting the brand new light bulb and a flashlight from the stockroom, the two of you headed over to your bedroom to have the light bulb changed. allen grabbed a spare chair from the room to stand on and proceeded to work. you sat on your office chair, taking a sip of your already cold coffee.

“just an idea but, i think you should be teaching me how to change a light bulb,” you set down your mug. “or any home repairs in general.”

“i’d be willing to offer you lessons,” allen replied as he unscrewed the broken light bulb. “that’d be 5 bucks per lesson. deal? we can start now if you want to.”

you kicked his leg from your seat, and the two of you laughed at the exchange. “i can’t believe you.” you muttered and shook your head.

it was just like how it was before— exchanging jokes, having playful conversations. except, you two broke up. it reminded you of how the two of you first hung out together, enjoying each other’s company through hours of talking and joking around. but that reminder came with the small pang in your heart, another reminder that it is now just a memory living in your head. something you don’t experience as often as before, and something you have to get used to not having.

allen took out the new bulb out of its box, and broke the momentary silence. “so, how have you been?”

it took you quite a while to answer, coming up with something that isn’t about you thinking about your breakup and starting to move on. “i’ve been….well. just busy with work as usual. you?”

“just the same. i’m finishing up an EP, just a few final touches and it’s ready for release.”

hearing that made you smile instantly. allen’s music was your favorite, and hearing that he’ll be releasing new songs soon brightened up your mood. “oh? that’s great! finally, i have something new to listen to.”

“and something new to have on repeat for hours.” allen remarked as he started to screw on the new light bulb. you rolled your eyes at his words and at how he still remembered your habit of leaving songs on repeat.

“okay, done.” allen turned off the flashlight, got off the chair he was standing on and went to turn on the light. the room was illuminated, and that meant you can finally start working again.

“thank you so much, allen. i’ll treat you to a meal for the help.” you stood up from your chair, watching as allen returned the chair to its earlier position.

“no need, y/n. but thank you.” he flashed you a smile and exited the room. you followed shortly behind.

allen went to return the flashlight back in the stockroom. closing the door once he was done, he suddenly searched for something in is pocket. seeing as he couldn’t find it, he faced you and asked for a favor. “can i borrow your phone? i think i left mine in the car. i just have to make a quick call, if it’s alright?”

“oh, sure, it’s in my room.” you replied as you made your way to your room, grabbing your phone from your desk and heading back to allen. you unlocked your phone and handed it over to the male.

as he was busy inputting the number and making the call, you awkwardly looked away and gave him the space to make his call.

soon after, you heard a phone ring beside you. you turned to face allen who just fished out his phone out of his back pocket. the confused look on your face made allen chuckle.

“here, thanks.” he handed back your phone. “i placed my number on speed dial. so if you’re ready for those lessons, or just need some more help in general, just give me a call.”

taking your phone from his hands, you smiled. “thanks, allen. i appreciate it.”

allen paused, gathering his words, and spoke. “i…know you’re trying to move on and maybe you don’t wanna see me,” he started. “and you’re probably still a bit sensitive from the breakup. but i hope you know that i’m still sorry for the way i acted that day.” his eyes met yours, showing how much he means it. “we both weren’t in the right minds to talk, and it led to...this. maybe it’s for the best, but, i wish i could’ve handled my emotions better. and i’m truly sorry for that.”

as if on cue, your brain played the memory of that day. two stressed individuals fighting with each other under the control of raw and ugly emotions. you both decided after that it wasn’t working anymore, and it led to a mutual breakup. it still hurts for you, though. someone you held so dear to your heart suddenly leaving just like that. the two of you didn’t meet ever since that day. well, until your light bulb decided stop working. is this fate doing its work?

“as cliche as it may sound, i hope we can stay friends at least.” allen smiled at you, hoping you would agree to the idea. it hurts for you knowing the most you two can become are friends, but you thought that maybe this is for the best. maybe this is what it should be. and i guess it’s better than losing allen in your life. besides being your partner, he was like a best friend to you. why waste this chance?

“can i still be your best friend?” you asked after a short while, and allen gave a lighthearted laugh.

“that would be great, y/n.”

the thick air between the two of you dissipated, and the heavy feeling in your heart started to fade away. meeting allen one more time was what you needed all this time.

you escorted allen to the door and bid him goodbye. the apartment was now empty again besides your presence, but it felt much more lighter. like the invisible cloud of black smoke around your unit was finally gone.

with a light feeling in your heart, you went back to your room. you headed to your desk, the laptop screen flashing for you to finish the report. after giving it a good stare, you closed it.

you deserve a break. the report could wait.

#cravitywriters #cravity imagines #cravity oneshots #cravity x reader #cravity scenarios #cravity drabbles #allen ma #allen ma x reader #cravity #kpop oneshots #kpop x reader

35 notes · View notes

oopsabird · 4 years

Text

re: Russian boat post and nasty anons accusing me of spreading conspiracy theories:

look. I only have so much control over what happens once a post leaves my orbit, or how far outside that orbit it will go. this is my personal blog, I’m not an influencer or a journalist and I don’t get paid to post here. I have no way of knowing which posts might happen to go viral and which ones ten people will see.

are there things I would change about how I worded a few parts of the original post, had I known that it was going to explode the way it has? yes, honestly, there are tweaks I would make to make it clearer that I was just putting a humorous “this ends up looking like the NatSec equivalent of putting on a bad fake moustache to blend in with a crowd so nobody freaks out about your presence” spin on what was clearly just a mislabelled military vessel trying to get back to its port and stuck in traffic like everyone else. when I went into posting about the other glitch and the incorrect photo, I was intentionally much more careful and made sure I had everything together before I posted so that there would be no unanswered questions left that might make it sound more suspicious than it clearly was.

unfortunately, unlike twitter tumblr does not allow me to push through any edits or changes I make so that they affect all 23,000+ versions of the post that exist out there. if I edit or even delete the original, all of the other versions will continue to circulate as-is, just as they were when somebody first reblogged them. that is outside my control. I’ve done the best I can in researching the longer part out thoroughly, putting in big bold letters that I don’t actually think anything suspect is happening, making sure that my investigation thread is visible/highlighted for anybody who looks in the notes, and I’ve tried to pass that link around as much as possible to people who express genuine questions or notable alarm. however, I can also only keep up with the notes so much.

I cannot easily predict which posts are going to leave my orbit and rocket to tens of thousands of notes in less than a day and which ones are gonna get 3 likes and fall off the map, because you just can’t with this site. I cannot reasonably take responsibility for the ability (or inability) of 20,000+ random strangers to calibrate their reactions intelligently from “the fully credulous instant belief you extend to trusted news outlets and trained journalists” to something more appropriate for “this is a clearly humour-based but possibly true post, made by some random un-credentialed blogger with no initial source links and no initial proof the screenshots are even legit” (they are, for the record). YOU as the audience are responsible for experiencing your world critically and intelligently and not being a gullible person who takes every post they see at entirely face value. I cannot be smart on your behalf.

so don’t come into my inbox hiding behind anon and accuse me of spreading conspiracy theories. I did my homework when I needed to, I cleared my shit up, I clarified in giant bold letters that I don’t actually think anything untoward or nefarious or improper is happening with the vessel, beyond maybe a last-minute scrambling fix of an outdated and potentially inflammatory AIS tag that only got noticed when thousands of eyes where looking at the region — and I even highlighted that I think the most likely, un-fun answer is just that the name and status switching back and forth is simply a computer glitch drawing on conflicting databases. It is not my fault if you don’t read.

I added my research, I cited my sources, and I cannot control the spread of earlier versions of the post (which were also much more joking in their tone) from before I did all that work. I cannot control if people actually check the notes for more information before they reblog something and treat it as factual. Even if I deleted the original (which I don’t see the need to), that would be essentially pointless (and even detrimental) as it has a fully self-sustaining life of its own anyway.

I haven’t slept in over 24hrs for various unrelated reasons, my blog is literally exploding, and I’m disabled and on a shitty week already to start with. there is only so much I can do.

anon is turned off now, so with all due respect those of you with some sort of faux-righteous bone to pick can either bring your shit-talking around with your username actually attached to it this time so I can actually block you, or you can get off my fucking dick about it

tl;dr: it’s not my fault if your information literacy skills are ass, or that you think just because you only ever learn your news from shitposts then all shitposts are required to uphold the journalistic standards

#// DO NOT REBLOG #this is rapidly sliding towards not being fun anymore bc people are stupider than expected #long post

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currentfandomkick · 4 years

Text

Marinette did not sign up for this pt2

forgot to post this before i passed out last night. part one here ao3 here

It was almost four years into being Ladybug when the Justice League made contact.

In that time, she and Chat had built the miraculous team and they both knew each members identities, but swore them all to not seek out one another’s identity. (Though Alya was Alya and had Carapaced figured out on his first outing… convincing her not to reveal that to him took a bit. The girl was determined, but Marinette follows Fu’s rules to the letter (as much as she can) and that meant Secrets Stay Secret damnit.)

Not contacting the JL themselves was partially due to some fallout the Mayor and Parisian government with a (dissolved) Justice League’s branch. It was well before her team’s time. Something about collateral damage and if her miraculous could fix damage dealt by JL members or not playing some role in that too.

She decided it was a good thing when two years later she found a fucking dagger with a large bouquet on her balcony. It became a regular occurrence for special occasions—birthday, winter holidays and on Easter (she didn’t even know why on that one. Her parents aren’t Catholic. Maybe Murder Robin was, or thought she was?). She would just find some weapon with flowers somewhere in her room. She had no fucking clue what Murder Robin (Alya found articles where the ‘new’ Robin was cited as likely having killed multiple people in Gotham and just, yikes) or his friends or even her father (Fucking Batman, the Ghost of Gotham) might have meant by leaving it, but it was clear they had her address, knew which room was hers, and could do a lot of damage if she toed the line. She wasn’t testing any of those ‘no contact rules’ after that.

Hiding a dagger and various other weapons (so many knives and throwing stars) from Maman by giving it to Fu and later passing it off as an eccentric gift from him to her for always helping him out was… an adventure when Fu was still Master Fu. She hopes Murder Robin doesn’t find out about that bit. She has no clue how he or his family (not hers, hers are in Paris with her. Hers at least tried to talk to her, tried to listen and did make time for her. His family? Complete strangers she may share DNA with.)

She (logically) should be terrified that Murder Robin knows her alias and secret identity are the same person; if he’s really one of the world’s greatest detectives’ kids, why wouldn’t he know? Batman must have known for years—why else would Murder Robin be able to find her? the DNA scan was in a closed match system to just Paris. And she knew there was no way Goddamn Batman, Ghost of Gotham, would hang around Paris long enough to get dragged into the system for him to have a ping.

He just did not want anything to do with her or her city’s trouble since it wasn’t his. She wasn’t his. Wasn’t wanted by him. That was fine—he has enough to worry about in his hell city.

Sending Murder Robin out to do his dirty work?

Not fine.

Her team and her were… managing the Hawkmoth situation. Keeping it from spilling out of Paris since Startrain. Goo-guy managed to give them a break—people can grab akuma that aren’t meant for them and become much weaker akuma than if the akuma reached its target. Same with the few that could grab an akuma in the air. It meant when akuma went out, some citizens were willing to bear Hawkmoth’s wrath for a bit—even groups taking turns sometimes—to prevent someone from getting akumatized until Ladybug could purify the akuma or Chat Noir could destroy it.

And for akuma battles, well, she has more than just her and Chat, Luck (Creation) and Destruction. Viperion gave them multiple chances to change costly choices in battle. Bunnix fixed the ones that Viperion couldn’t. All oversized opponents fell to Ryuko and her mastery of the elements, even if she can’t always make it thanks to different schools and tight schedules. Miss Sting was chosen by Marinette—Aurore was easy to lean on for news team reports and media appearances that Ladybug and Chat Noir don’t have the time or energy for. Plus, Aurored needed the anger management, so win-win. Don’t even get her started on Pegasus or King Monkey always being ready at a moment’s notice and how they both started joining Nino and Alya’s parkour dates that have morphed into group hangouts in last two years. Seriously—if she knew where she needed to be, Max was ready to answer her call. If she knew more chaos would work as a distraction, long live King Monkey, the Great Distractor.

Then there’s her emotional support in the field (besides her chaton), Carapace. He’s a great shield in battle, good with civilians and quick to defend. He’s also big on mental health (something their team sorely needed). How Nino managed to get turtle headphones, Marinette doesn’t know. She does know she nicks them from him regularly as Ladybug for team hangouts and when she needs to clam down on patrol.

Then there is her civilian bestie, the one who convinced her to stay as Ladybug, Alya Cesaire, aka Rena Rogue and the Ladyblogger. Rena Rouge is by and far one of her favorites to talk about potential Hawkmoths with, and work out akuma prevention techniques with. In the battlefield she was one of the first to strike (even if that’s not how she should be using the flute, Marinette has no room for judgment given how she uses all of her Lucky Charms.) Alya always posted and circulated anti-akuma tips and altered the Ladyblog to have each icon for known miraculous mean something.

Marinette was nothing but supportive of her friend, even if the blog is a behemoth to maintain and resulted in Alya retiring as her Deputy (Rose took over gleefully as Deputy). She liked that the Ladybug was for news, and the Cat for if an attack is ongoing. The Butterfly tracks akuma sightings before an attack, and was a bit on the nose in her opinion, but it’s effectively mapped out areas where Hawkmoth’s lair is or has an opening, giving them an area to investigate and patrol more heavily. The Turtle offered guided meditation videos and yoga sessions (somehow always on-going), while the Fox was for group chats and various akuma-related support groups. The Peacock offered mental health resources, and was constantly growing. The Bee was for self defense videos and sat next to Dragon for akuma survival tips. The Snake was one of her personal favorites, advice on calming down with guided breathing if someone feels close to being akumatized, and she’d used it herself more than once. The Horse was the one she’s the least familiar with, for shelter routes that she never used. The Monkey held a number of fun distractions, videos and memes uploaded by her followers with art and songs, and was overall very light hearted.

Marinette is proud of her team.

Though it doesn’t mean there aren’t days she’s waiting for it all to unravel, or for an Older Bunnix to appear again and tell her they have to undo the day Marinette’s identities were compromised. But that is a always an apocalypse event option only. Chat Blanc still haunts Marinette’s nightmares, and Alix’s too. the Princess Justice timeline haunts Alix since she lived it in real time, but it’s Adiren’s nightmare come to life in multiple other akuma attacks. Apparently if Marinette is akumatized, she brings about a second Reign of Terror so encompassing, it made Robespierre’s look like a child’s drawing of what a reign

It was during another Syren event when things went from workable to a slow boiling unbearable. All but Alix were transformed and fighting minions to clear a path for Ladybug to get to the main akuma.

Imagine her frustration when Aquaman and Aqualad appeared behind her while she was scouting on the outskirts, and both refused to make any eye contact, practically kneeling in water to her and making themselves a target. When they should be able to read the room and see that the battlefield isn’t the place for this.

“Oh Great Paschalítsa” Aquaman began, “I understand your hesitance in this matter, given the Miraculous and Atlantis’ history,” Aquaman continued as she dodged yet another minion further ahead and kept working her way to where the akuma was, ignoring his speech. “But I ask that you do not sink—”

Marinette gave up on her current task to ensure there wasn’t some international incident of Ladybug letting Aquaman be captured by akumas or something. She’d never head the end of it if she didn’t.

But now they were surrounded. Aqualad at least kept his attention on the task at hand (re: keeping minions from spotting her) as they all worked out a way to escape, even if he wasn’t looking anywhere near her. Apparently Aquaman got the message (finally) and did the same as his sidekick(?) after Aqualad made a few gestures she wasn’t paying attention to. She does have an akuma item to break and akuma to catch and purify.

The pair did manage to act as decent bodyguards and distractions while she worked out the kid’s item and how it connected to their fixation—no swimming until their grades up meant all of their gear but a whistle was taken away. One Lucky Charm and convoluted plot that merged fighting in 3-D, a pair of scissors and a lot off kicking off underwater buildings later, and Paris was back to normal.

She managed it without talking to Aquaman once. She could give quick directions to Aqualad without toeing the line—he wasn’t part of the Justice League and was known to operate in the ocean alone when Aquaman wasn’t there.

“Great Paschalítsa,” Aquaman began and Marinette wanted him to go off and leave her alone. Him and Aqualad. “As king of Atalntis, I humbly offer my aide in whatever has caused you and the great Mávri Gáta to show yourselves to the world.”

What was with all this formal speech? Marinette thought they knew French, or well, Alya mentioned it said they did in their bio, but it clearly wasn’t the kind her class used for projects. And Marinette was exhausted, frustrated, and now did not have a good and convenient target for her rage (re: akuma that drowned Paris) and well…

Well, she blew up. A bit. But can you blame her?

They wouldn’t take the hint. (Silence means Fuck Off).

“Look,” Marinette whirled on them, ignoring her team’s shock and not even going in for the celebratory ‘Pound it’. “I told Murder Robin—“ the pair winces at the that wording. Good. They knew who she meant then.

“—that I won’t get involved with anything involving our dad.”

She didn’t miss the sharp intakes from her team. Chat knew, only due to a freak out over being left a freaking sword one time and she panicked, okay?

“And I meant it. Just because Batman felt guilty or something,” She doubted it. Ghost of Gotham doesn’t feel anything and can apparently take out entire buildings on occasion. (Even if she was pretty sure that was someone filling in for him, she wouldn’t discount it either.) “That Doesn’t mean I’m going to change my mind on the matter—My team has got this. And we don’t need a handout four years too late.”

They had to. Fu was gone (For three months now. Three months Marinette held the weight of being The Guardian on her shoulders alone. She had to have this. She wouldn’t trust random elements sent by Mr. ‘I accept my murderous son and ignore the one in constant peril that blew herself up twice to save Paris.’

“Bug out.”

She knew her team would have questions, but Chat could answer them for now and Miss Sting would be able to handle any questions if any the media tried anything. Bright side of having the main Miraculous Team journalist as Rena with a determined hacker Pegasus; if it was personal to the team, the pair made sure it was never there.

Later at JL HQ

Aquaman walked up to Batman once the meeting was over. Batman knew the man had something on his mind and that it was related to himself—why else would he keep looking at him during the meeting? Whatever was troubling the Atlantian, Bruce could only hope it wasn’t emotions. That was really, really not his department… Jonn was much better with issues like that.

“Batman, may I have a word?”

Batman nodded, quick to follow the other out into a more private room.

“It has come to my attention that your daughter and you have a, uh, tricky relationship.”

Batman raised an eyebrow, as his relationship with Cass was doing well… he thought. Maybe he should visit her more? She was doing fine on her own and was always warm to him when he visited her in China on her missions against the Triad. Perhaps he should see if she was open to working with him on a case on that, or see if she wanted to come to Gotham again.

“And I don’t mean to judge here,” Aqua man continued, obviously nervous. “But uh, apparently your current Robin is well aware of her existence.”

Batman raised an eyebrow under the cowl. “Black Bat and Robin are close.”

The way Aquaman’s face contorted indicated nothing good. “Your other daughter.” The man paused, waiting for Batman to understand. “Ladybug.”

Bruce… Bruce froze. “I don’t have another daughter.” Not to his knowledge.

Aquaman ran a hand through his hair. “Well apparently ‘Murder Robin’ has met her,” Aquaman said with air quotes of all things. “Years ago.”

Bruce felt his heart stop. Damian’s… adjustment into the family had not been easy. And a few years ago Damian was much more… willing to do things against the Batcode, things that had him thriving in the League of Assassins. Things that changed a person. Things he’d need to ask this Ladybug—his daughter, another surprise child—about.

“And given that a Ladybug being active has always been a sign of a potential apocalypse—“

Batman’s red flags began flashing. Hard. His child was in danger and fighting a potential apocalypse event. Without his help. Without Batman’s resources.

“I assume Ladybug is a mantel.” Bruce hoped she had a mentor, someone to ease her into hero-work.

“Yes.” Aquaman looked… hesitant then. “Were it not for one Ladybug’s mercy, my people would have died when Atlantis was sunk by her equal, the Black Cat’s user. It seems this time they’re allies this time, against the Butterfly—I, Batman, are you alright?”

Bruce was not okay, at all. There is an ongoing apocalypse event, a daughter he never met stopping it (how old was she? Was she Damian’s age or older? Younger? He didn’t want her to have to live with this life, but she was and was doing so without him, without his help, without someone he knew she could lean on for support) and apparently his youngest son was well aware of this and did nothing to help. Did not even tell him.

He was going to have words with Damian.

“Excuse me.” Batman turned to leave. He has a son to interrogate, research to do, and a daughter to find (beg forgiveness for not getting to her sooner, and help her) on top of the usual workload. A Bat’s work is never done.

Wonder Woman who stopped him while he was reeling with this information, her grip too solid on his arm, and unlikely to break.

“It is not wise to rush in.” She began, appealing to reason in the hopes of keeping a panicked “Batdad” from making the situation worse. “From what Aquaman has told us, she does not welcome your involvement,” she said slowly, hoping it would sink in. “The Ladybug Miraculous has always been an agent of creation, of healing.” Diana hoped that would set her friend’s mind at ease. Ladybugs were notorious for their battle prowess and strategies, yes, but first and foremost their duty was to undo damage. “Ladybug herself will have much on her shoulders if her role is anything like my mother’s when she was among the Chosen, and adding yourself to the equation before her adversary is defeated will only serve to distract her from her goal.”

Batman remained tense, but didn’t struggle against Wonder Woman’s grasp. Good.

Green Lantern was the next to approach, as planned. “So why don’t you focus on your family in Gotham before rushing into meeting this kid,” Green Lantern—no, Hal suggested. “We’ll work on finding out what’s causing this possible apocalypse. You get your house in order.”

Bruce heard the words that weren’t said. Find out what your ex-assassin son did your demi-god daughter and make sure he doesn’t screw up anything further.

“That is not—“

“Batman.” Wonder Woman squeezed his arm. “This is not a suggestion.”

Cold curled in Bruce's stomach. His daughter was in danger, fighting against a potential apocalypse, and he was told to sit this one out. When it was personal. (His daughter who he needed to meet, to learn about, to see what made her tick and work out how to help her wherever she might need it. His daughter who he had lost years with.)

(They were ordering him to lose more time with her.)

“You are benched from League activities until this is sorted out.” Wonder Woman continued, as though she hadn’t just gutted Bruce. “I will take lead on Ladybug’s case. My people have much experience with her and the Black Cat as allies.” It was Diana that was smiling then. “Perhaps Mother’s connection will convince her to allow our aide.”

Green Lantern nodded along. “And when I’m not with you guys, well, GL core is in charge of keeping things not-apocalypse-y across the universe and keeping it from spiraling. And Miraculous tend to like the whole Balance thing, so it shouldn’t be too much for me to help out every now and then with them too.”

Bruce twitched where he was. He wasn’t going to win this. Not by a long shot.

But they were taking Aquaman and a Green Lantern. Granted, at least it wasn’t Guy. But a Lantern. Over him. When it involves his family.

He had to get his house in order quickly.

Damian would say he was quite pleased with himself that day. He managed to decide the type of weapon that would help his sister defend herself against others best, given her profession as a seamstress, he was annoyed he hadn’t thought of it sooner. Selecting the type of needle to give her, and to ensure they could be used for fabrics to give her a reason to carry them on her person, was crucial however.

She had rejected his other offerings thus far, though he could hardly blame her. This would be his seventh attempt. He did hear it was a lucky number from somewhere… and he had gotten better since his last attempts at understanding the type of person she showed herself to be and the type of person she wished to be seen as.

The Swiss dagger on his first attempt was too bulky and not hidden enough for a style of fighting she should strive to cultivate. His second attempt was an ear dagger which were easier to use and she could add additional force with her thumb. He thought it was better protection for her, and it was small enough this time to be kept in her purse. Much better than his first attempt. Only from her pictures he knew it wasn’t ever in her purse.

He had failed to find her an acceptable apology gift that offered her the protection she needed. The third was when he moved to a larger blade, hoping the thin rapier could be hidden well enough as decorative or as a fancier fencing tool than standard. It wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility given her closeness to an Olympic level fencer and this ‘Adrien Agreste’ who often partnered with Tsurugi. He was glad she had taken to displaying it at the least, though Adrien claiming to have given it to her left a bad taste in his mouth.

His sister wished to not have it known she had her own weapons then, he could handle that. His fourth attempt was going to be a butterfly knife but given legal restrictions that he had come to realize she would follow (as idiotic as they were) he changed it to a classic Swiss knife. He did see this carried on her person on occasion, but not often. He looked into more easily concealed knives and gifted her a ballpoint pen knife—it looked like a pen and he made sure to customize it to resemble the pens in her room (he took a sample for reference) and did see her often carrying that one, though by active attempt or chance he couldn’t gather. He decided she would need a long range item next, and gifted her a small variety of throwing stars (and a knife or two, she seemed to favor possible close combat weapons of those he gave her). He noticed that none of these were carried on her person (he may have bugged them with trackers to figure out her preference) and they rarely left her room.

That was why he concluded that this time needles that she could use for sewing or battle were his best bet. Finding a way to walk that line was proving challenging.

Father came in while he was making his selection. He did find it odd Father hadn’t mentioned her to the rest of the family, but it could be that he wished her a more peaceful life. Damian would not disrespect his father’s wishes by bringing her up.

“Damian, we need to talk.”

Damian furrowed his brow, running over what could warrant that tone. He came up empty.

Father did move closer and see he was looking at needles this time. And showed surprised.

“For Okhti Al Kobra,” Damian stated, hoping his father wouldn’t be upset at him recognizing her. He knew now it was better for her to be apart from them, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do what he could to help her protect herself. His older sister deserved better.

Father did freeze at that.

Had Damian displeased him? (He wouldn’t… wouldn’t send him to back. Damian knew that. But that look… it brought back the boy that wondered when he’d be tossed aside by the Great Batman for no longer being a good solider.)

“Father? I know you don’t like to speak of her but.”

“You, you’re getting her needles?” it was a question. He didn’t get why.

“Yes, my last presents seemed inadequate. She has taken to the penknife, but only sometimes. She keeps the Swiss on her sometimes too—haven’t you been keeping an eye on her social media? She posts a disgusting amount. I figured given the boutique it wouldn’t be unacceptable for her to carry needles on her as a weapon and tool in the future, should anyone else discover our connection.”

Bruce stared Damian, waiting for him to finish.

“She does keep the flowers I left her, though she does react oddly. The first time she was very pale.” Looking back, it was likely fear. She was a civilian after all… “However I believe she has come to accept that even with distance, she is still a Bat by blood and as such, should remain vigilant.” Damian hoped his report was adequate.

“She… how old is she?” Father’s tone was softer then. but the question didn’t make any sense.

“Father, you should know how old she is.” Damian waited for the man to respond.

He didn’t.

Damian furrowed his brow. “Father, you do know who she is, right?”

“Ladybug.”

Damian blinked at that. He had no idea who that was, but he knew an alias when he heard one. “She’s a civilian—when did she—”

“Damian.” He stilled at that. “How old is she?”

Damian straightened then. “She was twelve and a half when we first met. She will be sixteen in two weeks.” Damian glanced at his abandoned screen. “She enjoys design.”

“Her, her name.” His father looked… lost.

“I, we don’t revel secret identities?” Damian was a bit lost. Father should know of his sister. They were only two years apart. She was from before his father’s training became serious. He should know of her, at least. And if he didn’t, wasn’t it a betrayal to her if he revealed who she was without her permission? Whenever he tried to visit, she was always elsewhere, and he couldn’t very well show up as Damian Wayne. That would reveal the family and she didn’t need to know that. Didn’t need that burden.

“She knows she’s my daughter.” Father sounded…desperate.

“She knows she is Batman’s. I didn’t reveal your identity, or the family’s.”

“I…”

Damian took a deep breath. He didn’t want to betray his family. Or further hurt his older sister. “I believe that we should speak to her before discussing her identity. It… it should be her choice.”

Father looked pained at that.

“I assume you don’t…” No, father would not know how the first meeting went… right?

Father said nothing before leaving.

Damian wondered if he should visit her sooner. He eyed his cart and got her a set of weaponry needles, knitting, and a set made for seamstresses with small hands. He hoped these were to her liking. Perhaps he should add white heather (Protection) and purple hyacinth (I’m sorry) in addition to the zinnias…. Or just give her two with the zinnias mixed between them, as Damian reasoned the heather and hyacinth wouldn’t looks the best together. Yellow (daily remembrance) and scarlet (constancy) zinnias with heather (protection) and some greenery should be fine, and purple hyacinth (I’m sorry) mixed with magenta (lasting affection) white (goodness) and perhaps a white daffodil (stay as sweet as you are) with a filler of some sort would work well. She accepted his apologies (albeit in flowers) before, and he hoped he had proven he was paying enough attention to her for her to see that he meant it.

He was glad he hadn’t killed her that day.

Now he had research to do to help his sister.

He missed Brown as she slipped out. And completely missed finding out she was messaging Todd, Drake and Cassandra the news: there was a missing Bat into design, goes by Ladybug, and Bruce has no clue what her identity is.

Cass didn’t send anything in response.

Jason stated he would find her before Tim.

Stephanie was just excited for another girl in the group. Little sister in need of help? Count her in—being Spoiler versus being Batgirl was a world of difference. Having a team made it easier, and it shouldn’t be too hard to convince the girl to give it a shot, right?

Thanks for waiting. part three here

tags: @heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06

debating which bat will find her first (in person), so feel free to state any preferences, and thanks for the comments and kudos--it really does help with working this idea out.

#maribat #my writing #my fic #marinette did not sign up for this #how do i tag #long post #bio!dad bruce #sugar not salt #angst #misunderstanding time

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snicketstrange · 4 years

Text

The Dark Day and The Sugar Bowl

My theory about having a radioactive stone or the powder of a radioactive stone inside the SB was criticized by very qualified judges. Their names are Dante and Hermes, and they volunteer for Dark Avenue 667.

Dante demonstrated that Esmé's sugar bowl could contain information. I will quote you here for clarity: Neither of these statements indicate that the contents of the sugar bowl pose a direct physical danger in themselves; merely that using them would have wide-ranging repercussions. If the villains can't get their hands on the sugar bowl, the risk is always that those repercussions will come to pass; consequently, if the villains can get their hands on the sugar bowl, they'll be able to act with impunity. This is a valid interpretation. Lemony's hint in TSS is as follows: I have at last learned the whereabouts of the evidence that will exonerate me, a phrase which here means "prove to the authorities that it is Count Olaf, and not me, who has started so many fires." Your suggestion, so many years ago at that picnic, that a tea set would be a handy place to hide anything important and small in the event of a dark day, has turned out to be correct. -Lemony Snicket, TSS p. 101 The evidence in question does not only prove Lemony innocent; it proves Olaf guilty - apparently unambiguously and elegantly. It is easy to see why Count Olaf would find this evidence desirable. (The exact nature of the evidence is unclear and seems narrow in scope, which is perhaps one reason why it ultimately could not be revealed.) A point: A container in which to secure something safely may indicate something dangerous, but it may also indicate something fragile. TGG p. 178 clarifies that the sugar bowl has a "tight-fitting lid"; a necessity if you want to keep anything in it while throwing it down rivers and so on, but this also implies that it's watertight, and that whatever is inside may be perishable or otherwise easy to damage. It was generally agreed back in the day that the "classic" use for sugar bowls was probably for something along the lines of privately passing information or small objects during dinner parties or other meetings; consider how easy it would be to place something small inside a sugar bowl whilst seeming to take sugar, and for the other party to then retrieve it. Listening devices have also been proposed, which would allow coded communication to be potentially overheard but would also allow suspicious conversations to be recorded; it's easy to see how such a recording might incriminate a person who had set a lot of fires, for example, or more pertinently, to exonerate somebody who had not. Something like this I think is probably what is indicated by Lemony's statement on the subject in TSS.

Hermes , however, showed the apparent contradiction in this interpretation. Speaking about the secret letter in TSS, Hermes said:

"This letter is possibly the most paradoxical thing in the whole of ASOUE. It implies that the Sugar Bowl contains the evidence that will exonerate Lemony, although this does not seem to fit what we hear of its significance anywhere else." I believe Hermes was referring to passages like the ones that Dante and I cited in a recent theory that I will write here for clarity: "Our enemies capturing the sugar bowl would be as troubling as their capture of the Medusoid Mycelium." - Dewey, chapter 8 TPP. "The sugar bowl is on its way to the hotel even as we speak, and I'd hate to think what would happen if our enemies got ahold of it. I can't imagine anything worse, except perhaps if our enemies somehow got ahold of the Medusoid Mycelium. " - Kit Snicket , TPP p. 36 I was defending the idea that the SB contained some kind of radioactive material. But even a radioactive stone would not cause a disaster similar to what Medusoid Mycelium can do. Similarly, even information that could clear Lemony and accuse Olaf would actually do similar damage to Medusoid Mycelium. Medusoid Mycelium is a weapon of mass destruction that can cause an epidemic. Medusoid Mycelium can be grown easily and could be used to cause worldwide chaos in the event of coordination of villain efforts. In addition, we have some interesting statements from Captain W regarding the SB content: "My stepfather says that if the sugar bowl falls into his hands, then all of the efforts of all the volunteers will be for naught ... "He said it was better I didn't know ... He said people had been destroyed for knowing such enormous secrets, and that he didn't want me in that sort of danger. "- Fiona, TGG Chapter 3. That's why I haven't told you why the sugar bowl is so very crucial. There are secrets in this world too terrible for young people to know, even as those secrets get closer and closer. - W., TGG, Chapter 4. "It's not the sugar bowl," Captain Widdershins said, "it's what's inside it. - W. TGG, Chapter 6 What Captain W makes it clear is that there is a terrible secret within the SB. Let me fix this. Captain W makes it clear that there are huge secrets (in the plural) within the SB. And from there everything becomes more interesting.

Let's go back to the TSS secret letter. There is a strong indication that the use of a sugar bowl to protect and hide information was Kit Snicket's idea. Kit Snikcet is more than the sister of Lemony Snicket and mother of Beatrice Jr. Kit Snicket is known as the creator of the submarine Quequeeg. This seems to indicate that in his youth, Kit was able to create highly technological mechanical devices, like a submarine in which only a captain and two crewmen are needed. (Compared to submarine C, in which a large number of humans are required using arm force to move the submarine). I just want to highlight Kit Snicket's genius. Lemony's letter to Kit reveals for what purpose Kit had the idea of using an SB. Lemony wrote: "Your suggestion, so many years ago at that picnic, that a tea set would be a handy place to hide anything important and small in the event of a dark day, has turned out to be correct." - Lemony Snicket on the secret letter in TSS. The original objective of SB was to protect something small and important in the event of a Dark Day. What is a Dark Day? In North America, something called Dark Day happened on May 19, 1780. An unusual darkening of the day sky was observed over the New England states and parts of Canada. (You can search for it on Wikipedia). But what caused this Dark Day? Wikipedia says: "The primary cause of the event is believed to have been a combination of smoke from forest fires, a thick fog, and cloud cover. The darkness was so complete that candles were required from noon on. It did not disperse until the middle of the next night. " In other words, that Dark Day was caused by a big fire. So the SB's goal is likely to be to protect something small and important from a Big Fire. Although Kit was responsible for giving the idea, the implementation of the idea to protect it came from Esmé. The sugar bowl serves as a protection against fire (and apparently also against water and other weather). But why could a Dark Day be so dreaded as to need a fireproof container? And what could this container contain? One of the biggest reasons that fires are so destructive is that fires destroy libraries. Large libraries throughout the real history and throughout the fictional history of ASOUE have already been lost to major fires. What if it was possible that all crucial information in a library could be compressed to the point of being fit into a portable device? Well ... It exists in our universe! In fact, digital information is just like that. Think about how many books will fit on your SD card on your phone. When ASOUE's books were written, we were in the age of data compression. Daniel Handler spoke about various types of libraries. Did he not leave out digital libraries? After all, there were computers in Prufrock Prep. Of course, we don't necessarily have to imagine a pen drive within the SB. But we can imagine an entire library within the SB. A library that can contain the most different types of secrets, some of which are really dangerous. If Count Olaf (or other enemies) had access to these secrets, in addition to being able to eliminate important evidence against him, who knows what he would be able to do with all that information! In this case, the damage could be similar to that of the deadly fungus MM. In other words, inside Esme's SB was a big backup with the main secrets kept by VFD. It is likely that there were shameful secrets for VFD, which made Captain W hesitate just thinking about them. In the case of a Dark Day in which all physical libraries were destroyed, the information from those libraries would be saved inside the sugar bowl. And that is why Esme, despite having the SB did not make much use of it. Esme hates to read. She only discovered the value of what she had in hand when she lost it. I mean ... She already valued the SB itself. Let me be canonical so you don't think I took this theory out of thin air. TE chapter 9: The most common use of the word "library," of course, refers to a collection of books or documents, such as the libraries the Baudelaires had encountered during their travels and troubles, from the legal library of Justice Strauss to the Hotel Denouement, which was itself an enormous library–with, it turned out, another library hidden nearby. But the word "library" can also refer to a mass of knowledge or a source of learning, just as Klaus Baudelaire is something of a library with the mass of knowledge stored in his brain, or Kit Snicket, who was a source of learning for the Baudelaires as she told them about V.F.D. and its noble errands." At first glance this sentence seems to indicate that the hotel where people slept was a library and that the sub-aquatic library was the hidden library. However, that doesn't make much sense in that sentence. Lemony is defining the library as a collection of information in some kind of media that can be accessed and read. The hotel where people slept was not that kind of library, although the rooms were organized as if it were a library, the function of the hotel itself was not to store information. Thus, the Hotel Denouement that Lemony is referring to here as a library was the underwater library, which Dewey referred to as the real Hotel Denouement.

I will quote a passage for clarity:

TPP Chapter 8: "Exactly," Dewey said. "The truth has been right under everyone's noses, if anyone cared to look past the surface. Volunteers and villains alike know that the last safe place is the Hotel Denouement, but no one has ever questioned why the sign is written backward. They're staying in the TNEMEUONED LETOH, while the real last safe place-the catalog-is hidden safely at the bottom of the pond, in underwater rooms organized in a mirror image of the hotel itself. Our enemies could burn the entire building to the ground, but the most important secrets would be safe. In other words, what was destroyed was TNEMEUONED LETOH and not the Hotel Denouement. "Hotel Denouement" was the name that was written on the entrance to the underwater library.

So the library that was hidden nearby that Lemony refers in TE chpater 9 to here was something else. And I deduce that this other thing is the content of the SB.

#asoue #Sugar Bowl #sugar bowl theory #asoue theory

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yuziyuanapologist · 4 years

Note

for the writing prompts: wangxian, “Don’t look away from me.”

hello lovely! thank you so much and sorry this took so long, i think i failed to warn on the prompt list just how slow i can be! but here we are, i also managed to ignore that starter is probably meant to mean that it should be the first line? but we don’t follow rules here.

so enjoy! will reblog later with an ao3 link :D

High up in the mountains of Gusu, Wei Wuxian plays for Lan Zhan.

Four months it's been, this time, and it's felt longer than all the times before that he's been gone. Longer, even, than the sixteen years.

Perhaps it's because, for the first time in three years, he's seen the first snows of winter without being by Lan Zhan's side for it. And - of course- there's no rules about it, no discussion they've had in between all the you should come back soon - for Sizhui's sake, or the I fell on some troubles, can I stay here for a while - there's never been anything about snow. Just that Wei Wuxian likes being by Lan Zhan's side for it.

It's the warmth, he assumes. Lan Zhan always seems to radiate heat, and, since he's been back, Wei Wuxian's body doesn't seem made for keeping himself warm. He has to snuggle under masses of blankets to stop himself from shivering in the cold - these days in the snow he's been wearing almost more robes than he can move in. Or - he should have been, at least.

Now, though, he can just stay by Lan Zhan's side, tucked under his arm. That tends to work to keep him warm.

His fingers are trembling against the flute even now, forcing his notes to slip in the cold air - maybe Lan Zhan will refuse to come to him for such a discordant mess, maybe he won't even recognise the tune.

“Wei Ying.”

Of course he does.

“Wei Ying, you are freezing,” Lan Zhan fusses like a mother hen sometimes, Wei Ying has barely had time to lower his flute before Lan Zhan is taking it from him, and taking his hands between his own. “You do not have to come up the mountains every time you want entry into Cloud Recesses.”

“I want Hanguang Jun to accompany me through the gates,” Wei Wuxian grins at Lan Zhan, and at his fussing, and at the feeling of warmth starting from. his fingers, moving through to his whole body. “To reduce my risk of being caught by your uncle.”

Lan Zhan shakes his head, unamused. “He will not stop you from entering.”

“The juniors are just as much of a risk. They'd carry me away, and I'd never even get to see you.”

“They would do no such thing,” Lan Zhan replies, traces of a smile on his face. "For fear of banishment from the clan."

Wei Wuxian smiles too, looking down at his hands in Lan Zhan's. “Well. Mostly it's because I like playing for you. Though I know I didn't play my best today. Too cold.”

Lan Zhan fixes him with a hard stare.

“Come,” he says eventually. “Little Apple deserves better treatment than this.”

Little Apple is laiden with more blankets than Wei Wuxian himself, and is contentedly munching at half-frozen grass.

Still, Wei Wuxian follows Lan Zhan - has no choice but to follow, with his hands still in his.

That evening, when Sizhui and Jingyi have finally been persuaded to leave Wei Wuxian be, Wei Wuxian curls up by Lan Zhan's side in the jingshi, looking out into the snowfall.

Lan Zhan is occupied with writing letters to some of the smaller clans (no doubt Sect Leader Yao is involved somehow) and cannot, therefore, pay Wei Wuxian the attention that he wants yet, but at least it only takes one hand to write. His left arm is around Wei Wuxian's shoulders, warming him better than the cup of Emperor's Smile in his hand.

Wei Wuxian tires of waiting for Lan Zhan to finish, though, and succumbs to his foolish desire to be out in the snow, extracting himself from Lan Zhan and wandering out of the door, knowing that, soon, Lan Zhan will join him, and make the cold warm again.

For now, the Emperor's Smile does enough, keeping the chill from his bones while he waits for Lan Zhan.

He's become so accustomed to shivering that he doesn't notice the shake of his own hands, only the way that his liquor spills a little into the settled snow, leaving a patch of it melted, an imperfection beyond his own footprints. He frowns at it, both for the waste of alcohol and the destruction of what could be a perfect picture - but the snow is so heavy that the mistake is fixed by the time that Lan Zhan joins him.

Arms curl around his waist, warmth settles through to his centre.

“You are freezing.”

“Well, you are late. The problem you were fixing had better be a threat greater than the Yiling Laozu himself.”

“I am fixing that one now.”

“What, the Yiling Laozu?”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan replies, tugging at Wei Wuxian so that he turns in his arms. “Someone has to warm him up.”

Wei Wuxian goes willingly, facing Lan Zhan now, all the better to tease him.

“No one would need to warm me up if you paid me more attention.”

“No one would need to warm you up if you took more care of yourself.”

Ah. This one. They've had this talk - many times. Wei Wuxian often runs away from it, citing his desperate need to wander and see the world, and Lan Zhan lets him, he lets him do anything that he needs to do, but Wei Wuxian knows that he worries.

And even now that they're so close, almost but not quite - now that Wei Wuxian allows himself to cling to Lan Zhan whenever he's around, now that Lan Zhan holds him like he deserves it - it's - it's -

He doesn't. Deserve it. Probably, maybe. There's just too much - too much everything.

Isn't there?

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says it soft, caring. “Don't look away from me.”

Wei Wuxian frowns and looks further to the side.

"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan tries again. "You are able to keep yourself warm, if you try."

In reply, Wei Wuxian tries a different tactic, leaning his head down onto Lan Zhan's shoulder to hide his face.

"Why should I?" He mutters grumpily.

Lan Zhan's fingers - his arm round Wei Wuxian's shoulders - find the ends of Wei Ying's hair, and comb through it, brushing gently along his back at the same time. "Wei Ying."

Wei Wuxian hums, distracted by the calm of the touch.

"I want you to believe that you deserve it. Deserve to stay warm and well."

"I know that you think that," Wei Wuxian replies. "And I trust you."

"But you don't believe me."

"What's the difference?"

"You know."

"It's only a bit of cold," Wei Wuxian tries.

Lan Zhan stays silent, and Wei Wuxian sighs, knowing the exact look that is on his face without having to look. He tightens his arms round Lan Zhan, and feels Lan Zhan's tighten in turn.

“I just like it when you warm me up.”

“And when I'm not with you? Do you stay warm?”

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian lies, far too fast.

“Wei Ying. You are within Cloud Recesses boundaries.”

No lying, is what Lan Zhan wants to finish that sentence with. Wei Wuxian knows that much.

He sighs. “Lan Zhan, you're always saying that you know me enough that I can't lie to you.”

“You still try.”

Well. He's not wrong.

“I'm - I'm just not - ready for that yet.”

“For what?”

Wei Wuxian takes Lan Zhan's words as his own. “You know.”

“The same reason that you don't stay here?”

Wei Wuxian nods into Lan Zhan's shoulder, where he's still buried, and finally pulls away from Lan Zhan, turning back to look out into the ever-thickening snowfall. Almost immediately, he mourns the absence of Lan Zhan's hands in his hair.

He drinks the last of his liquor, and place the cup down on top of the fence, leaving his hands free to rest either side of it, pressing down and melting the snow to leave two handprints from uncovered hands that will soon enough turn blue with cold.

“You are doing it again,” Lan Zhan says. “Your hands will freeze.”

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes. “Does it matter?”

“It matters to me.”

It's not the first time Lan Zhan has expressed it, but nonetheless Wei Wuxian's reaction - his body's reaction, for his heart to feel as though it swells in his chest, for the feeling that spreads through him reminding him of home - is the same as it is every time.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan steps closer behind him. “Does that not matter to you? That it hurts me when you refuse your worth?”

One hand lands on Wei Wuxian's arm, soft touch sliding down to his wrist, pulling his hand up from the snow and enveloping it in warmth.

At first, he can't bring himself to reply, eyes still shut, body still mindlessly following Lan Zhan's touch, letting himself be guided back into his embrace, to his hands in Lan Zhan's, close between them so that the warmth can spread.

Eventually, he finds the words. He opens his eyes, but avoids Lan Zhan's gaze.

“It matters,” he says. “It does. I just -“ he shakes his head, cutting himself off. What he wants to say - he knows Lan Zhan doesn't want to hear, so soon after he's arrived.

Lan Zhan hears it anyway. He always does.

“You want to travel again? Already?”

The lack of response is response enough, it seems.

“Don't,” Lan Zhan says, and though its a simple command, the way he says it is so gentle, calm and willing to accept whatever answer Wei Wuxian gives.

His answer - is “Why?”

“I want you to stay with me,” Lan Zhan replies. “Let me care for you.”

Wei Wuxian's eyes drift half shut again, his breath shakes. “You don't want that.”

“I have always wanted that.”

Finally, Wei Wuxian meets Lan Zhan's eyes. Of course he's not lying, he rarely is, but the determination in his soft gaze is - enough to bring him to ruin.

“Lan Zhan,” he pleads, though he doesn't know what he's pleading for. Answers, maybe. A truer understanding of what comes between them, and what it could become. Though he thinks he knows - through all this comfort, all this closeness, there is a barrier.

It could fall, if Wei Wuxian would let it.

Maybe he will. Maybe, after all of this time, he wants to.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan stays calm. “Let me.”

He pulls on Wei Wuxian's hands, tugging him ever closer, the distance between them ever smaller, and the barrier ready to collapse.

One hand still in Lan Zhan's, Wei Wuxian moves his other to Lan Zhan's cheek. “You mean -”

“Yes,” Lan Zhan whispers. “Please.”

The distance vanishes. The barrier crumbles.

Their mouths meet, and Wei Wuxian has never felt warmth like this. He feels Lan Zhan sigh against his lips, knows the smile threading through more than just his expression - he finally, finally, understands that he still has - that he is home.

He doesn't want to give it up for anything.

#time for another edition of me plagiarising it's rotten work not to me not if its you #i think this is #maybe the forty sixth ?#i refuse to apologise #but i will be self aware #ask #the untamed #wangxian #wangxian fic #mine #martivist #fic*

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gloves94 · 4 years

Text

To Be So Lonely [Draco Malfoy] 10

Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Draco Malfoy/OC Chapter warnings: Fluff! Angst!

Raised as an orphan, Nel Saintday, endured years of torture from the Slytherin House. The Dark Lord only allowed her existence for her to serve a very specific vile purpose for him. Her birthright dictates for her to choose a side in the Wizarding War… But what would happen if she dares defy the Dark Lord and his wishes? And what happens when she falls for her tormentor? Will Nel fulfill her life’s purpose? And what side will her tormentor, Draco Malfoy, choose? The light that calls to him or the darkness…

CHAPTER MASTERLIST MY MASTERLIST

"Malfoy?" Tracey said loudly.

Nel nodded her head bitterly, arms crossed over her chest as the two made way to the dinning hall for dinner.

"Draco Malfoy?" She repeated in her obnoxiously loud voice. It seemed like his name was the only word she was capable of saying because of the shock.

"Shush!" She elbowed her friend. Throwing a suspicious glance around the corridor hoping nobody else had heard.

"And why- are you doing this again?"

"Because he knows something about my past and I'm pretty sure it's true. Trust me I'd much rather write to his father personally and ask or drug him with some veritaserum but even then the potion doesn't guarantee us any answers."

The two sat down on the table and put their bags aside when Theodore came running into the Great Hall and practically slid in the seat across from them.

"You're going to Hogsmeade with MALFOY?!" He exclaimed. He seemed to be out of breath.

Nel's eyes scanned the room. "Wow, news sure does travel fast 'round here," she shook her head.

"Are you okay?" He asked concerned. "Are you ill? Dying?" He reached over the table and placed a hand on her forehead.

"Just dandy," she grumbled irritated before sticking a potato into her mouth.

"How'd you know?" Tracey arched an eyebrow as she drank her pumpkin juice.

"Malfoy was bragging to the lads back at the dormitory."

Nel rolled her eyes. "Of course," She shook her head. "Those idiots are only fascinated by me because they think I'm related to Salazar Slytherin."

Nel's bored expression fixed across the dinning hall to a very awkward interaction between Lupin and Snape. Nott and Davis blinked at each other exchanging a look.

"But you are-" They said in unison.

"Nope, I'm not," she said more in denial before getting her mouth busy and taking a huge bite out of a bread roll. Being related to Slytherin himself meant being related to You-Know-Who and that… That was not possible. It wasn't something Nel wanted to even think about it.

"But you are-" Tracey insisted. "You're a Parselmouth."

"So?" She retorted irritated. "So's Potter and he's not related to Slytherin as far as we know."

"Yeah, but You-Know-Who gave it to him." "Well maybe he did something to me to!" She snapped at her two friends. The two inched away from her exchanging a worried look. "Sorry," She lowered her head and put her utensils down after her outburst. "This… This is why I'm entertaining Malfoy. Maybe the persons who left me at the abbey, maybe they were my parents. It's a big clue." She explained.

Theodore and Tracey had no choice but to agree.

It was then that mail was delivered and her owl, Barberry, came swooping down dropping two letters in front of her. The first was from Professor Lupin, it was written in his perfect loopy handwriting that slanted to the right.

"Ms. Saintday, Please meet me at my office after dinner. It is important. Thank you. - Professor R. Lupin."

Her friends commented on what could Lupin possibly want with her. She shrugged and regardless met the professor's eyes across the table and nodded.

The second letter was written in a familiar sharp handwriting.

"E, Front of the castle. Tomorrow. Noon. - D'

"Ooooh, how mysterious," Tracey joked reading over her shoulder. "I wonder who D could possibly be," she said sarcastically.

Who did he think he was kidding?

She turned to seek Draco's eyes in the Great Hall and when she met them she crumbled the note up with her hand. He simply raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement. The slightest of curves on his lips.

Whatever, she left the dinning hall ready to meet Professor Lupin in his office.

Arriving at Lupin's office she was surprised to find Harry Potter there instead.

"Let me guess," She began. "Lupin cited you as well?" She said closing the door behind her. Swaggering down the steps of the DaDa office and sitting on top of a nearby trunk.

"Is it true you're going to Hogsmeade with Malfoy?" He asked bluntly.

Nel sighed and raised her head back before letting out a loud frustrated groan. Now even the Gryffindor boys new. IT wouldn't be long before Pansy found out and came to murder Nel. Best to be prepared for that.

"It's a long story," She rubbed her tired eyes. "He's holding something over me," she admitted quickly changing the topic. "Why is everyone so intrigued by the fact that we're going to Hogsmeade? It's not even a big deal," she shrugged.

How could anyone not be intrigued by the two of them going to Hogsmeade? Draco was the unofficial Prince of Slytherin and Nel was the potential sole living descendant of Salazar Slytherin. She was a hostile blood traitor, who kept everyone at arms length and was infamously known for her ill temper and distaste for the Slytherin boys. Specially for Malfoy whom she was usually clashing with on the daily.

"Maybe because you two hate each other? Everybody knows that."

He wasn't wrong.

"Thank you," he added. "For what you did in class the other day, but I can fight my own battles."

She huffed slightly yet said nothing. He shouldn't flatter himself like that. She really hadn't done it for him. Maybe it was best to let him think that.

"Do you recon we're in trouble?" She asked changing the topic. After all Lupin had caught her passing notes in class just the other day.

"No Ms. Saintday, nobody's in trouble. Which considering your reputation, you might find quite surprising," he smiled at her as he opened the door. She turned away from him and made a disgruntled noise in the back of her throat.

"You're probably wondering why I've gathered you two here tonight. I know it's a Friday, so I won't hold you here long," Lupin began making his way across the office. "Do you remember the lesson we had on Boggarts?" He said to the two.

Both students nodded. How could they forget? It was an awesome class. It was the most fun they had ever had in any class.

"Boggarts are shape-shifters. They take the shape of whatever a particular person fears the most. That is what makes them so terrifying," he explained.

"Professor, we already know this," Saintday interrupted with an irate look on her face. Could he just get to the point already?

"Patience Ms. Saintday," Lupin paused at the interruption. "I'm afraid you didn't get a chance at the Boggart that day, perhaps you'd like to give it a shot now?"

Nel thought of her worst fears. She eyed a trunk across the room which was violently shaking. Whatever was being kept inside desperately trying to escape. "I think I'll pass," she mumbled.

"The two of you are here since you are particularly susceptible to Dementors all things being considered, Dementors force us to relieve the worst memories of our lives. Our pain becomes their power. Which is why the two of you fainted on the train," Harry turned to look at the teen in surprised. Nel almost looked wounded by Lupin's words. She looked away from both, lowering her eyes.

Her background wasn't something she particularly enjoyed talking about.

"This is very advanced magic. Well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level," Lupin stated clearly eyeing both of the students carefully.

Why did Lupin want them both to learn how to fight Dementors? Certainly every student was in danger of Sirius Black and of the Dementors that were pursuing them, but why them two specifically? Nel understood his reasoning for brining Harry in, but her? Why would either Sirius Black or Dementors want anything to do with her? "Very well, the spell I am going to teach you is called the Patronus Charm. Ever heard of it?" He said to both.

Harry shook his head no. Nel nodded yes. Lupin extended his hand for her to elaborate. "The Patronus Charm is a spell which main but not only use id the primary protection again Dementors and other dark creatures for which there is no defense. There are two types of Patronuses. Corporal and Incorporeal." "Excellent Ms. Saintday, 10 points Slytherin. Any 6th years amongst your clients?" Lupin teased.

She shot him a look at him butting into her personal business and he chuckled a little at her hostility.

"But that's not quite it. A Patronus is a kind of positive force. For the witch or wizard who can conjure one, the Patronus works something like a shield. The Dementor feeds on it instead of him," Lupin paused as the trunk across the room rattled violently. "But in order for it to work, you must think of a memory. And not just any. This memory needs to be a very happy one. And powerful." His honey eyes darted between the two students before him.

"Think of your happiest memory and come back tomorrow after lunch. We'll begin then."

With that Lupin dismissed them.

"Know what your happiest memory is?" Harry asked as the two returned to their individual house dormitories.

"Yeah," She lied.

She had no idea.

Xxxxx

Nel didn't get much sleep last night. She had spent all night wondering just what her happiest memory was. She hated coming to the realization she didn't have one… At least not a strong one that would ward away a dementor.

All happy memories at Wool's were tainted with the memory of Lucy which in turn made them painful for her. And at Hogwarts… Sure maybe there was the memory of the day she visited Diagon Alley for the first time. Maybe even when she became friends with Tracey and Theodore, and just overall their general shenanigans.

There was one unique memory that was different from the others. It probably wouldn't be enough, but so far it was the best she had.

Xxxxx

It was Christmas even last year, 1992.

Nel had spent the evening celebrating with Harry, Hermione, Ron and his family. They had been nice enough to include her considering both her and Harry always stayed back during the winter break.

The group had been playing with sparklers and throwing snowballs at each other in the courtyard after an early. Overall it had been a fun evening. It was late when they decided to return to the Gryffindor common room, a place where she wasn't allowed. She suspected the party would go on there, but for now she was simply happy to not have been alone.

"Black Mamba," She spoke to the password which allowed her in. It was late, almost midnight by the time she got back. Walking into the emerald and black common room she was surprised to see Malfoy sitting by himself on one of the leather sofas.

It seemed like this holiday the only Slytherins that stayed behind were her, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle.

She thought it was odd that he had stayed behind. Yet she didn't question it simply not caring enough but looking at him he looked absolutely miserable. She approached him partly to get a better look at him.

He was hunched over with his head buried in his hands. Hearing her footsteps, he looked up and glared at her.

"Lost something Slugbreath?" He insulted defensively.

She kept her curious eyes on his. His face was swollen and tinted with red. Had he been crying? It was probably the first time he was away from home and alone for Christmas. She wouldn't have been surprised if the brat had really been crying.

"Are you okay?" She ignored the insult.

He looked at her surprised, taken aback by the question. Part of him was expecting her to take it back and boldly mock him.

"What do you care anyways?" He snapped kicking the low table in front of him.

He was most definitely not okay.

"Come," She said to him.

She was so used to his harsh tone and language she simply hummed, shoving her hands in her pockets before walking away back to the entrance of the common room.

He paused not moving an inch. He wasn't certain if she had really been speaking to him or not, but who else could she have meant? His father had asked him to remain at Hogwarts stating home wasn't safe due to the raids the Ministry of Magic was performing. Lucius also had to keep a trustful eye at Hogwarts now that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened. "Are you coming or not?" She called over her shoulder.

Thinking himself crazy Draco decided to follow her out of the room. Nel lead her down the dungeon's corridor and took several turns in the darkness before stopping before a small door. The door was big enough for a small person to walk through.

"Where are you taking me?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow still wearing an air of superiority around her. "This is where I'm hiding your body…" She said mysteriously.

He gave a step back, certainly not doubting this. "Just kidding!" She laughed before opening it and walking through.

The two entered the kitchen where long tables resembling the Great Hall stretched from one end to the other. Shelves and large pantries were stacked with food and other ingredients against the wall. And just around the door were dozens of small cots with tiny people sleeping on them. But wait- they weren't people, they were house elves.

"You've brought me to the servant's quarters?" Malfoy said wrinkling his nose in disgust. His eyes looked around the room pretentiously as if he had walked into a dumb instead of a kitchen. Nel doubted the boy had ever been inside of a kitchen.

"Shh!!!" She hissed him as a sleeping elf nearby stirred in his sleep. She tilted her head forward and the two advanced further into the kitchen.

She moved around the kitchen with expertise knowing were the bread and all other ingredients were located. Draco watched carefully as she prepared two sandwiches with the most peculiar ingredients turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, stuffing and- "Do you like cranberry sauce?" She stopped and whispered to him. He simply shrugged indifferent to it.

He wasn't watching out of intrigued. He was worried that she would attempt to poison him.

The two left the kitchen as quietly and as quickly as they got there. He now followed her upstairs. She held both of the large sandwiches which she had wrapped in paper in her hands.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked as they stood outside the Great Hall. By now he seemed to have forgotten about whatever had been bothering him earlier.

She shrugged carelessly, almost like he had when she had asked him if he liked cranberry sauce or not.

"Why not? It's Christmas Eve, good deeds count extra tonight. And let's be real, I've been pretty bad this year," She smiled a little. "I've got a lot of self-redemption to do." She was lying and he wasn't biting. She knew what it was like to be alone, specially during Christmas. She knew how painful it could be to be so lonely. "I don't need your pity," he narrowed his eyes in mistrust. "Fine," She shrugged again and handed him his sandwich with eyes filled with contempt. "Have it your way." She said before turning away and back in the direction of the Slytherin dormitories.

"No, wait-" He reached for her arm holding her back. The thought of being alone on Christmas was haunting to him. He felt lonely and Crabbe and Goyle weren't always the best company to keep around. Maybe she was being sincere. It was a risk he'd have to take.

Nel opened the door to the Great Hall and stepped in, he followed and marbled at the decorations. In the absolute darkness of the night the massive tree at the end seemed to be glowing with hundreds of golden lights. The night sky was still enchanted to make it seem as if snow was falling down. Yet the stars were still visible above. "Pretty. Isn't it?"

Without another word Nel took a seat on top of a dining table and unwrapped her sandwich. After a long day of throwing snowballs this was just what the doctor had ordered. He did the same neither saying much. He eyed his sandwich oddly, it actually looked disgusting.

"I'm a terrible cook," She said in between bites. "But I make the best sandwiches," she stated awfully proud of her monstrous creation.

He took a bite out of it hesitantly. He'd never had anything like it.

"This is actually not bad," he said thoughtfully.

"Thanks, it's a leftover sandwich. Leftovers of anything Crabbe and Goyle didn't finish anyways." Both shared a laugh.

Draco's mind still twisted over her reasons for doing this. Nel wasn't the type to believe in any redemptions. At least not from what he'd learned about her in the past two years. She was more stubborn than anyone he knew, wasn't the kind of person to change her mind about things just like that. She must've seen something in him that seemed personal to her.

"I'll never get tired of looking at this tree," She said interrupting his train of thought. "Back at Wool's we get a small one every year. Skinny pitiful thing, with almost no branches. It always tilts to the sides due to the tacky pink ornaments that Wool uses."

"Wool's?" He asked confused.

He noted that her ears turned red from over sharing and she took a large bite out of her sandwich stuffing her mouth so she wouldn't speak any more. He gathered that was probably the orphanage where she lived.

"Hey, you better not get any funny ideas Saintday," he spoke in that snappy bitter tone he was known for. She looked at him oddly yet thankful he hadn't further pressed about her slip. "This doesn't mean that we're friends got it?" His eyes were glued to the massive tree at the center of the Great Hall. She couldn't help but smile a little at this, "Wouldn't dream of it Malfoy."

The next morning Nel was surprised to actually find some gifts underneath her tree. It was nothing grand of fancy, regardless she was touched by the gestures. Theodore had gotten her some ink and parchment for the year, something that would be most useful to her in her business affairs. A Quidditch poster from Tracey which she suspected was a gift for her and not for Nel. Regardless she hung it up between their beds to make her friend happy.

She'd knitted some gloves for the two of them. They weren't perfect but she was hoping they'd do just the trick in keeping them warm for the rest of the winter.

She had agreed to meet the Gryffindors for breakfast. Exiting the common room, she was surprised to see Malfoy standing in the common room.

"There you are," he said with his arms crossed over his chest. There seemed to be an annoyed look on his face.

She flashed him a confused look. Had he been waiting for her? Were they actually friends now?

"Crabbe and Goyle left for breakfast already," He uttered as if explaining why he was there standing alone. "They found this outside in the corridor. It has your name on it," he signaled to a large box that had been placed on the low table. She eyed the box carefully. The gift-wrapping paper was wrapped with precision and bore a rich checkered emerald and black diamond pattern that was tied together by a thick black ribbon. There was a square tag at the top that had Nel Saintday scrawled on it in sharp handwriting.

She looked at the gift completely stunned.

"Thanks for holding it for me," She said awkwardly still being unable to remove her eyes from the gift. She didn't know what was inside, but she had certainly never seen maybe even touched a box that was wrapped so beautifully. "I'll take it back to my room-"

"No-," He said rather quickly. She arched an eyebrow at his odd behaviors. "Open it here," he pulled out his wand. "It could be cursed."

She let out a small laugh. Yeah right. As if somebody would try and curse her. She wasn't Harry Potter of anyone important. However, one could never be too safe. Maybe the Weasley twins had send it to her- or maybe it had been Harry, but she doubted that they would get her something this nice.

"I guess you're right," She said dropping her knees on the carpet and slowly undoing the ribbon and wrapping with care. She didn't want to ruin it. She also wasn't sure if she should keep the wrapping or not.

There was obviously a black box inside. Hesitantly she reached for it and removed it from the table. Curious to what was inside. Wincing and preparing for the worst she opened it. However, nothing happened. No harm was done. Inside was a piece of clothing wrapped in more paper. More layers? Again, she undid it carefully and pulled out a black jumper. It was probably the softest fabric she had ever touched. It almost felt unreal or like how'd she would imagine touching a cloud would feel like.

"This is..." She gasped feeling the texture in between her fingertips.

"It's made from Vicuña, the world's softest fabric. Way better than cashmere," Malfoy said smugly peering over her shoulder. "You can tell?" She marveled at his ability to be able to tell just with his sight.

"It doesn't say who it's from," She said looking under the many wrappings.

"Do you like it?" Malfoy asked in an uninterested tone.

"Do I like it?" She repeated her voice almost breaking. "I've never had anything half as decent as this in my life," she hugged it close to her chest. "I almost feel like it'll melt in my arms," she laughed weakly. "Look! Touch it!" She said moving the fabric close to him beaming. He raised his hand and denied it with a bored look on his features. "I'm almost afraid to wear it. What if I ruin it?" She rambled anxiously as her mind wondered to who would’ve taken the time to get her such a thoughtful gift. She was more than touched. She was elated. She could’ve cried at the gesture if the boy hadn’t been there. It was the first time that she had something that was hers and truly hers alone. It hadn’t been owned by anyone before, it didn’t have any signs of tear or wear. It was hers. It might as well have been made out of cotton or wool and she would’ve been just as moved by the gesture.

Draco had just in time snatched the card that had her name written on it. He hadn't noticed that the back of it read 'For Draco, Love Mum. Happy Xmas'

That had been a close one.

"Who do you think sent it?" She wondered out loud. "Do you think it was Professor Snape?"

He fought the urge to roll his eyes at her reasoning. Snape? Really?

"Does it matter?" He said irritated.

"I just want to thank them. Maybe give them something nice?" She said concerned before turning her attention back to the box. "It has to be someone that I know… Obviously!"

Malfoy wasn't going to be much help, but maybe Fred and George could help her figure it out. Draco glanced around the room nervously. What would she do if she knew it had been him?

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't even realize she was on her way out of the Common Room sweater I hand.

"I best be off. See you around. Happy Christmas!" She called over her shoulder with a broad smile before exiting the room.

She didn't hear but the boy stood there alone.

"Happy Christmas…" he said more to himself.

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not-majestic-bluenicorn · 4 years

Text

Crescent || Chapter 3

Fandom(s): ATEEZ

AU: Treasure Hunters

Genre: Action, Fantasy, Sci-Fi

Relationship: Everyone x Everyone, Established Hongjoong x Yunho

Language: English

Status: Ongoing

Chapter WC: 5,254 words

Warnings: Character Death, Stabbing, Fighting, Blood, Aliens, War, Funerals, Kidnapping, Attempted Kidnapping, Mentions of Child Abuse / Child Work, Explosions, Murder Attempt, more will be added.

Chapter Warnings: None apply

Summary:

Wooyoung sat up immediately as he wiped at his eyes, trying to push down the tears and regain his breathing, but he had never felt anything like this before. The sun was barely rising yet but he couldn't focus on that. He felt happiness, pain, and unbearable yearning.

AO3

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Tagged: @angel0taiyo

At first, there was nothing but darkness, but he felt conscious, so he knew it was a dream. Then, the darkness was filled with countless celestial bodies around him, tiny and bright and very far away. Like that, Wooyoung was floating in the middle of space. It was beautiful, like nothing he had ever seen or imagined since he had never left his home planet, Oniris.

The Somnum almost never left Oniris. Their clairvoyance abilities made them highly sought after, which is why they didn't belong to any known empire and they didn't accept strangers on their planet. They didn't need to travel to know, however, since they could see and know everything through their dreams. Wooyoung knew, even without being a highly experienced Interpreter, that this was one of those dreams.

As he turned around, he spotted a beautiful vessel coming towards him. It was dark in color, but the white sails created a contrast that reminded Wooyoung of a moon reflecting the light of a star in the night. He floated towards it, looking around, and on its side he saw a blurred name and a detailed drawing of a crescent moon. He couldn't make out the name, so he guessed he wasn't supposed to know that just yet, but at least he had a clue.

When he landed on deck, a few voices caught his attention and he turned, looking for them. He found seven other men standing on deck, talking to each other. Wooyoung's heart started beating faster as he approached them, a sudden adrenaline filling his body. He stopped once he got close enough, eyes fixed on two of them. He had seen them before, in a previous dream, and knew their names: Hongjoong and Yunho.

In the previous dream, Hongjoong's brother had died and Yunho had had to stop him from attacking the people around them. It was bizarre to see him now so calm, smiling among these other men whom he knew nothing about. They all looked so happy, and without warning, Wooyoung's heart found itself yearning to be with them, to be part of that happiness.

The feeling left him breathless. He had had many dreams before, but nothing like this one, never a true vision. He realized that this was his awakening as a Somnum. His people believed in destiny, and at some point everyone got a prophetic dream that set them off into fulfilling it. Wooyoung knew this was his. His eyes filled up with tears as he struggled to regain the control over his emotions, but it was so overwhelming.

For a moment, he thought they were looking at him, but then it became too much and he woke up. Wooyoung sat up immediately as he wiped at his eyes, trying to push down the tears and regain his breathing, but he had never felt anything like this before. The sun was barely rising yet but he couldn't focus on that. He felt happiness, pain, and unbearable yearning.

With difficulty, he managed to calm down little by little until his breathing had returned to normal. It was still too early to do anything, but he decided that as soon as his parents had woken up, he would ask them to take him to see the local Interpreter. Seeing Hongjoong and Yunho again in this dream, and what he had felt during it were no coincidence. It was time for him to start his own journey.

Hongjoong and Yunho were sitting at a table in the inn they were staying at. They were reviewing the job applications they had gotten from potential crew members, which were quite a few. So far, they had already decided on five of them, so they were missing five more. As they were reading the applications, one in particular stood out to Hongjoon and he put the rest of them down to read it.

The lad's name was Lee San. He had been part of the expedition team on his home planet, however the government had dissolved it to fund other things and he had ended up unemployed. It said he had been part of an archaeological research institute, but he had quit because he wanted something that would allow him to travel around the universe instead.

"I like this one," Hongjoong passed it to Yunho. "He could help us deciphering the map."

"And I like these two, give them a look." Yunho passed him two more applications and Hongjoong read them.

The first one was a man Yunho's age named Mingi. He came from the mining planet Merth X-24, and was an expert managing all sorts of chemicals and explosives, which could come useful when retrieving the treasure. The writing was neat and pretty, which somehow contrasted with the image of a miner, but it was nice. Merth X-24 was one of the planets in the Kim Empire, and while there was the risk of being recognized, Hongjoong thought it would be okay.

The second application was from a man named Jongho, a couple of years younger than him. He had worked in ship assembling and maintenance, which would make him a valuable crew member. Hongjoong didn't even need to read the rest of his application to consider him in. He put both applications on the accepted pile, and soon enough Yunho did the same with San's application.

They finished choosing the crew members within the following hour and asked Siyeon to message them their acceptance and cite them there next morning to begin their journey. After that, they went to the shipyard in charge of their ship, as they had received confirmation that it was ready. When they got there, Hongjoong's heart sped up in anticipation. This was going to be his very own ship, designed to his image and taste, built only for him.

Of course, he had a royal ship, but even that one didn't feel his. It was too flashy, too alien. This ship wouldn't wear the royal symbol nor would it be designed by others. Hongjoong had taken part of every step of the design process to make sure this ship would be only his, a safe space. He could bet that Taejoong was proud of him.

Yunho softly squeezed his hand to center him when he noticed Hongjoong was starting to get anxious. Hongjoong smiled at him, grateful, and soon the Master Shipwright guided them towards their ship. It was simply gorgeous. The wood was dark and smooth, the sails were white and almost looked like dragon wings when fully extended.

They walked around it as the Master Shipwright explained the process they had followed and how they had incorporated all the details Hongjoong had asked for. And then they stopped next to where the name was painted on in beautiful silver letters. Crescent. That was what Hongjoong had chosen to name it. The C was a crescent moon painted with intricate designs in it. It was beautiful.

"Why Crescent?" Yunho asked him once the shipwright was gone.

"Because the waning crescent symbolizes growth and action, and the waxing crescent symbolizes achievement and completion." Hongjoong smiled, admiring the artwork. "I want this mission to be a success, to give us a new start." Yunho smiled and passed the left arm around Hongjoong's shoulders, pressing his lips softly to his temple.

"I like it," he affirmed. "I have no doubts we'll be able to succeed, wherever this mission takes us."

When morning came and Wooyoung woke his parents with the news, they hugged him tightly and congratulated him. They both cried, making Wooyoung break into tears again, but it felt comforting. His mother treated him to a plentiful breakfast and his other parent reserved a meeting with their local Interpreter for him.

He told them about the dream as they ate breakfast, and it was obvious by his parents' faces that they had caught onto the fact that he would probably have to leave them. They were a bit sad, of course, but the excitement of their son finding his destiny overpowered it. Wooyoung knew the news would spread fast, and that following his visit to the Interpreter, there would probably be a lot of people waiting for him to tell them.

It made him feel a little nervous. Of course, he had gone along with his parents to visit other households and leave a little gift for the Somnum that would be leaving to fulfill their destiny. But it was an entirely different thing to be the object of that attention. The idea of people paying so much attention to him like that made him more nervous than leaving his parents. Still, he would be nothing but grateful as he sorted out the gifts on the few days he would probably get before leaving.

After breakfast, he helped his parent wash the dishes and then went to get changed, trying to dress himself with his best attire as his parents prepared the offering for the Interpreter. Wooyoung groaned as he put his shirt inside out on the first try and hurried to fix it. Soon enough, he was downstairs, tying his shoes and meeting with his parents outside of the house.

Rather than super populated cities, the Somnum lived in small yet technologically advanced villages that satisfied all of their needs. The planet wasn't particularly big, but the Somnum weren't quite fertile either, and thanks to their good government, they had an almost perfect resource distribution. Wooyoung had never lacked anything.

Because of their nature, the government always made sure they had everything necessary to fulfill their destiny. Even the farms his parents owned, since it was part of their destiny, the government had provided. Now they were one of the biggest food providers in Oniris and also one of the main sources of food products for commercial trade. Wooyoung had always thought his destiny would be to inherit the farm, but here he was instead, dreaming of ships and voyages.

As they walked into the Interpreter’s house, they were received by an assistant who took their offer and shortly after guided Wooyoung into a different room. There was a low table and some cushions, with a teapot and a couple of cups. Every window in the room had been covered by thick velvety curtains, and the room was illuminated by a small chandelier that hung from the ceiling.

Not long after Wooyoung had sat down, the Interpreter came in. They were tall and thin, with skin frail from their age; however, their eyes were alive with wisdom and knowledge. Wooyoung wondered for a moment how many visions the Interpreter had had since they’d been able to remember. Visions could be very exhausting because of the emotional toll they took on the person, so learning to handle it was a major part in an Interpreter’s training. He couldn’t help but feel curious about what it was like to hold such an important role.

“Jung Wooyoung?” The Interpreter asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes, that would be me." Wooyoung nodded, rubbing his hands together trying to warm them up.

"Please sit down, don't be afraid." The Interpreter smiled at him and Wooyoung nodded, sitting opposite to them at the table.

Despite being on the floor, the cushion was so soft he didn't feel uncomfortable. From up close, he could easily smell the hot lavender tea in the teapot, and he felt himself inhaling deeper as it helped him calm down. The Interpreter poured him a cup before pouring one for themselves and pushing it towards Wooyoung. He took it, but didn't drink it immediately.

"This is a syndesia and lavender infusion," the Interpreter explained. "The syndesia plant will make it easier for me to access your mind and see the vision, that way I'll be able to give you more insight. You could think of it as establishing a temporary connection."

"Does it feel... weird?" Wooyoung asked, looking at the liquid with apprehension. The Interpreter chuckled.

"A little bit, but it's not painful, I promise." The Interpreter assured him. "Now, if you will, drink the tea and lie down, try to relax."

Wooyoung did as instructed and drank the tea in silence. The Interpreter also drank their cup in front of him, occasionally humming to themselves as they did. The more he drank, the more relaxed Wooyoung felt, until he found himself struggling to keep his eyes open. At that moment, the Interpreter helped him lie down with his head on the cushion, and before long, Wooyoung was in a deep trance.

It did feel really weird. At first, he started recalling his vision just like he had seen it the night before. But when he found the Interpreter inside and tried to follow them, his vision became just a muddy shade of black and he couldn't see anything anymore. It felt like he was still there, and he could certainly sense the presence of the Interpreter, but he couldn't see anything anymore.

After a few minutes that felt like hours, Wooyoung was able to wake up as the Interpreter helped him sit down and offered him a glass of water. Wooyoung felt disoriented and a bit confused. Nothing had changed so he couldn't have slept for more than a few minutes, but it felt like he had been gone for hours, lost in the nothingness.

"Drink the water, it will help you get rid of the effects of the syndesia." The Interpreter instructed as they themselves drank a cup of water.

"Did it go well?" Wooyoung asked after downing half of the glass. His throat felt parched and he really was starting to think he had been out for more than a few minutes.

"You have a great journey ahead of you," they smiled against the rim of the cup. "I'd say you have a lot to deal with, the seven handsome men you saw in your dream are destined to be your lovers." Wooyoung choked on his drink and he desperately coughed, trying to breathe normally. The Interpreter smiled.

"My apologies, but what do you mean?" Wooyoung stammered. His whole face was red and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears.

"They aren't all together yet, but they will be." They continued to explain. "They're on a mission to find the Treasure of the Seven Galaxies, but they will face many unexpected difficulties. As for you, well..." the Interpreter put down their cup. "You'll get there when they most need you. I suppose the relationship is a bonus."

"But how will I find them? I don't even know their names..." Wooyoung mumbled.

"Worry not, did you think I would send you away without any clues?" The Interpreter smiled as they stood up.

They left the room through a small door in the back wall that Wooyoung hadn't even noticed before, nervous as he had been, and returned shortly after. After they sat down again, they offered Wooyoung a necklace. It was a light purple stone circle wrapped by silver branches that hung from a silver chain.

"It's amethyst infused with syndesia," they explained. "Those studying to become Interpreters wear them when they are just starting, it will help you amplify the visions and obtain information from them."

"But... I am not an apprentice." Wooyoung looked at the necklace, hesitating.

"No, but your journey will take you far away and you won't be able to rely on us the Interpreters to help you," they smiled kindly. "Take it, maybe when you're done with your mission you could look into becoming an Interpreter, but for now, that necklace is yours."

"Thank you," Wooyoung nodded. He unclasped it and put it on, admiring the pendant as it rested on his chest.

"You should go now, your mission requires you to leave as soon as possible." The Interpreter stood up and urged Wooyoung to do so too. "Try going to Sonne U-28 first, you might find some clues."

"Wait, what?" Wooyoung turned to them in panic.

"If you don't leave now, you won't be in the right places at the right time, it's time you start your journey." The Interpreter smiled. "Don't be afraid Jung Wooyoung, all the answers are already within you, just trust yourself."

Wooyoung looked at their eyes, expecting to find mockery or deception, but of course there wasn't anything like that. So he took a deep breath and nodded. He thanked the Interpreter for their services and then left to find his parents, who were waiting for him outside. They wasted no time asking him what had happened and how the meeting had gone. He was in a hurry though, so he promised he would tell them on their way home.

And so he did. As they walked home, he explained to them what had happened and everything the Interpreter had told him. His mother stopped him to hug him tightly once Wooyoung revealed he had to leave as soon as possible. Like him, they had hoped they would at least get a few days to spend together before having to say their goodbyes, and it hurt that it would have to be so sudden.

When they got home, there were already families from the village waiting for them, carrying gifts to aid Wooyoung in his journey. His parents welcomed them all into the house and their neighbors asked what had happened during his meeting. Wooyoung's face was red with embarrassment and nervousness as he tried to explain it all to them again; the attention felt so uncomfortable and awkward.

Eventually, his parent intervened and told Wooyoung to go prepare for leaving. He didn't need to be asked twice as he hurried to his room and locked himself in, regaining his breath. He could still heat the rest of the village talking downstairs, but at least his room felt like a safe space... Except, the sole thought that he needed to leave already weighed him down. He had never expected he would have to leave his home so suddenly.

He was afraid. He could still remember as a child, the fear he had felt of never seeing his family again, of losing them forever. The Universe wasn’t usually a kind place to those of his kind, and he was afraid of what could happen to him without the protection of his people. Everyone knew about the stories of those who never came back. What if he didn’t get to come back either?

Wooyoung's heart grew heavy with each new thought as he picked a suitcase and began filling it with clothes and personal care items. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even realize what he was packing until his mother knocked on his door and brought him out of his daze. She walked in and gently guided his hands away from the suitcase, arranging the items herself.

"You're going to be okay." She said after a little while, hands still busy fixing his suitcase.

“Mom,” Wooyoung looked up, eyes bright. “What do you mean?”

“I know you’re probably afraid,” she smiled, “but not all the people outside of Oniris are bad, you’re going to be okay.”

"I'm going to miss you, both of you." Wooyoung said as he teared up.

"And we're going to miss you too, but we'll be rooting for you." She smiled, putting the clothes aside and cupping Wooyoung's face. "Maybe when you're done with your mission you can come back and introduce use to your seven handsome boyfriends."

"Mom!" Wooyoung complained, face burning red. "Don't say that, it's so embarrassing." She chuckled.

"Honestly your parent was acting all jealous about it, so I'm sure spending some time away from you might help them come to terms with the fact." She smiled, complicit, before she went back to helping with his luggage.

"Are you going to be okay?" Wooyoung asked, pouting slightly as she handed her a few more items.

"Us? Baby you should be worrying about yourself!" She laughed. "We're just simple farmers, you're the one going on a mission to find some sort of mythical treasure! We're not at danger here."

"Still..." Wooyoung's pout grew as he hugged his mother's back. "At least pretend you're gonna struggle without me here!"

"We're going to live like newlyweds all over again." She teased him. "Maybe even go on a honeymoon again."

"I am so underappreciated in this household." Wooyoung huffed as he moved to help his mother close the suitcase. His heart felt lighter.

"I'm kidding, of course we'll struggle without you, but that doesn't matter." Once the suitcase was closed, she turned around to face him. "We love you so much, but it is time you focus on yourself, we will always wait for you." She opened her arms and Wooyoung hugged her, knowing he wouldn't be able to in a long time.

"Captain, all of the crew members have arrived."

Hongjoong turned around to face Yunho as he finished buttoning his shirt. Both smiled at each other as Hongjoong followed his now First Mate to the deck, where every member of the crew was waiting for him. They had moved the ship to port the previous day after the last few details had been settled and they had loaded the supplies into the ship.

Of course, Hongjoong knew half of the crew members since they were all his soldiers, but he pretended to know them just as little as anyone else. If he wanted his identity to be kept secret, he would need to act his part. From now on, he was only Captain Yoo Hongjoong, treasure hunter. He was no longer the third prince of the Kim Empire, and he wouldn't be until he returned home with the treasure.

"Welcome, everyone!" He exclaimed, raising his arms. All at once, a surge of adrenaline filled him. This was his ship and the crew he had chosen, it was almost a dream come true. "From today onward, I am your Captain, Yoo Hongjoong. Under my command, we will achieve the impossible! The treasures and legends that no one has dared to follow or has managed to find will be all ours!"

Everyone cheered, breaking into applause and cheers. Hongjoong smiled. He felt almost invincible, like nothing could stop him from fulfilling his mission and making the culprits pay for the death of his brother. He was doing the right thing, he could feel it inside him. Hongjoong looked at Yunho for a second and the taller man was smiling at him. Clearly, Hongjoong's excitement was contagious.

"We're leaving in under an hour, settle in and get ready to set sail!" Hongjoong ordered.

"Yes sir!" The crew replied in unison and began moving as Hongjoong turned around to leave.

One tall man stood in the middle of the deck with his small suitcase, clearly looking a little lost. Mingi had never been in a ship like this one, so he wasn't entirely sure where he was supposed to go to leave his stuff. He was also a bit too nervous and scared to ask. Their captain had looked so cool as he motivated them, and everyone had replied enthusiastically, so Mingi had allowed that energy to stick onto him. But now he didn't know what to do.

"First time on a ship?" A shorter man asked him, smiling at him genuinely.

"On one like this one, at least." Mingi nodded, ears tinted red. The man offered his hand and Mingi was quick to accept it.

"My name is Jongho, Choi Jongho." He introduced himself. Jongho seemed confident in what he was doing, and it calmed Mingi down slightly.

"Song Mingi."

"Come with me Mingi, I'll take you to the quarters." Jongho began walking and Mingi quickly followed him.

He was so earnest and hurried that he didn't even notice the crew member standing next to him, and when he moved to follow Jongho, Mingi ended up accidentally bumping into him. He turned around and quickly began apologizing, not even looking the man in the face. It truly didn't feel like it was his day at that moment, and he was getting increasingly nervous.

"It's okay." The man replied. His tone was so flat that Mingi thought he had made him angry.

"I'm really sorry." Mingi apologized again. Jongho patted his arm when he noticed how nervous Mingi was, and he looked back with a grateful smile.

"It's really okay, don't worry." The man repeated. His voice and eyes were so cold it was almost scary, and it left both Mingi and Jongho speechless. "I already heard you from before so there's no need to introduce yourselves; my name is Lee San, I hope we can work along well." San introduced himself before turning around and leaving.

"That's what you call a scary presence..." Jongho muttered. "Come on Mingi, let's go, we need to get working."

Without thinking it twice, Jongho grabbed Mingi's wrist and pulled him along, since the taller still seemed frozen from the scary meeting with San. Mingi let Jongho guide him to the quarters in silence, just hoping he wouldn't get in more trouble that day.

The next morning, Wooyoung and his parents woke up very early to eat breakfast and send him off. His parents talked plenty during breakfast, like they would usually do, but Wooyoung remained silent and they didn't press him about it. It was obvious he was still nervous and hesitant, he needed some space. When they were done eating, Wooyoung washed the dishes while his parent helped bring all of his luggage down.

His mother had ended up helping him pack to maximize the usefulness of his suitcase. Plus he had packed an extra backpack with all the essentials he might need so that he wouldn't need to open the suitcase every single time. After the visitors had left, they had sat together to buy his ticket to Sonne U-28, making it official that he was leaving. Despite the fact that the Somnum almost never traveled outside of Oniris and that they didn't allow visitors except under specific conditions, it had been easy to get a ticket.

The trip would take a few days, but at least the Interpreter had given him a lead to begin with, since they weren't allowed to intervene with the destiny of other Somnum. Wooyoung had thought of using the necklace the previous night to obtain more information as well, but in the end he had been too nervous to do so. He would get to Sonne U-28 first and figure it out from there.

"Are you ready?" His mother asked once there was nothing left for him to do. Wooyoung nodded.

"As ready as I can be, which to be fair isn't much," he chuckled. "I'll be okay though."

"Of course you will, you're our son." His parent affirmed, patting his back. "Let's go."

They had already called a taxi, and with their help, Wooyoung loaded his suitcase on the trunk and they rode to the port. Almost every ship there was for commerce, and Wooyoung observed with curiosity as they loaded the shipments into the enormous vessels, preparing them for their long trips to other planets. His parents asked the taxi driver to wait as they helped Wooyoung unload his luggage and bid farewell.

"We're not forgetting anything right? We can hurry and go back to pick it up." His parent said, checking their watch.

"I don't think that would work out well honey." His mom chuckled, pushing his arm down. "Stop being so nervous, you're gonna make Woo nervous."

"Right, sorry." They smiled and pulled both Wooyoung and their wife into a tight hug. "I'm going to miss this, I'm going to miss you."

"I'll be back before you notice it." Wooyoung assured them.

"And with seven boyfriends no less!" His mother added. His parent's expression immediately darkened and they huffed.

"Don't even mention it, I cannot believe-!"

"Okay then, I'm gonna get going." Wooyoung squeezed his parents with his arms before disentangling himself and grabbing his luggage. "I love you!"

Wooyoung walked away after quickly pecking both their cheeks and repeating how much he loved both of them. He looked back a few times as he walked, each time spotting his parents standing outside the taxi and watching him leave. Tears welled up in his eyes for a moment but he pushed them back and moved forward.

The ship he was going to board was built like some sort of small cruise. It was an impeccable pearl white color and on the side the name was painted with black letters. It was named The Oneironaut, certainly a fitting name. After showing his pass, a crew member took his luggage and guided him to what was going to be his room for the next few days while they traveled to Sonne U-28.

He opted to settle in while the rest of the passengers finished boarding and the crew made the last checkups to the ship. Taking everything out of his suitcase would make it too complicated, so he opted to just leave it open in one corner of his room. He did take everything out of his other backpack though, since those were the things he would be using the most, and placed everything carefully in the bathroom and the drawer unit in front of his bed.

When the ship honked to signal their departure, Wooyoung hurried out of his room and to the main deck. He wanted to see how it looked to leave a planet and enter actual space. He looked around to see if his parents were still there, but he couldn't spot them among the ruckus at port, and that was when he realized he was truly going to do this by himself. At least until he could find the others.

Finally, the ship sailed, and he watched little by little how the port, and then his village, became smaller under his earnest gaze. Faster than he would have expected, they had exited the atmosphere and now he was out in space, by himself, ignorant of where destiny was planning to take him.

Hongjoong's gaze was fixed on his compass but his mind was far away. He kept thinking back to the death of his brother but he couldn't actually remember it all that well. He remembered the messenger telling him about it, but after that it's all a blurry mess of incomplete memories. Through it all, however, the image of his brother, lifeless but still bleeding out, was etched perfectly in his memory.

A soft hand rested on his right cheek and he blinked twice, remembering where he was. He snapped the compass shut and looked up at Yunho, who was now cradling Hongjoong's face with both hands and looking at him with adoration. Hongjoong blushed at the intimacy of the look and Yunho chuckled, pecking him softly before letting him go.

"Don't go on a journey without us Captain." Yunho said, grabbing his hand. "It's time Hongjoong, we have to go."

Hongjoong nodded and followed Yunho to the door of his quarters. He paused for a brief moment just to squeeze Yunho's hand before letting go of it and going out. The crew paused what they were doing to look at him. The emotions were palpable: excitement and nervousness mingled to create a timed bomb just waiting to explode. He made his way to the quarterdeck and placed his hand on the wheel.

"Weigh anchor and raise sails! Our journey begins now!"

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what-big-teeth · 4 years

Text

Reveal (Cambion Boyfriend, pt. 3)

Gender Neutral Reader x Male Monster [Part 1] [Part 2]

Slight lime ; NSFW-ish

The drive to Cam’s apartment complex is silent, save for the smooth jazz pouring from the radio. You know that not even the masterful tones of John Coltran will be enough to soothe him. The way he grips the steering wheel tersely with paling knuckles is proof. But you choose to remain quiet, watching the familiar scenery glide by until you reach one of the complex’s gates.

You can’t even fathom what to say in this situation. Not after everything that happened.

With the press of a button on Cam’s fob, the iron is pulled away, allowing the car to drive through. He pulls up right in front of his apartment, located on the first floor. With the awkwardness from the car’s interior still lingering between you two, you’d rather not have to rely on Cam to help you inside. So you call upon your stubbornness and manage to haul yourself up using the handle above the passenger side window. Your legs are still horribly weak from whatever your captors injected into your system. But you don’t want to trouble Cam any further—

A gentle hand braces against your lower back.

“Need some help?”

You honestly wish you didn't, but the sweat beading your forehead is obvious proof you do. You nod and lean on his side as you two slowly walk indoors. Everything is as you remember it, even with the few empty water bottles piled on the coffee table and the textbooks littering the carpet. But knowing what you do now…

Cam leads you to the couch. You gladly plop down onto the cushions, wincing from the painful twinge in your back. He swiftly sits by your side, hands hovering at the ready.

“What’s wrong?”

As the dull throbbing dies down, you huff out a laugh.

“Just thinking how support beams aren’t the greatest form of spinal support.”

Instead of lightening the mood as you hoped, your words only deepen his frown. When you try and meet his gaze, he presses to his feet.

“We should take care of those scratches,” he says, walking away.

And just like before, the same awkward air settles around your shoulders, a growing obvious weight.

When Cam returns with the first aid kit, you close your eyes and swallow any attempts at small talk. Hesitance wins out. The only sound that emerges from your mouth are hisses as Cam dabs at your sensitive facial wounds with an alcohol wipe.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

Your conflicting thoughts give way to a churning mixture of emotion. Anger, at being kidnapped. At being lied to for so long by your closest friends. By the Moores. Fear from not knowing whether you’ll see Jacqui again; from wondering if any other Hunters know about you. But there’s happiness as well, mainly at being saved. Your mind is too addled, too tired, to formulate any words regardless of how much you want it to.

You aren’t surprised when you end weeping in reply.

The careful touch of a q-tip stills for a few moments before resuming. Once finished, you expect Cam to get up and leave. But he stays seated, the heat of his body radiating towards you. From the corner of your eye, you see a rich, golden brown hand reach towards your face. It stops short then falls away.

You don’t try to stop Cam when he gathers the used supplies and the kit, standing to his feet. Not even as he heads further down the short hallway. He returns a few moments later, carrying a few items. A pillow, a blanket, an oversized shirt, and a large pair of sweatpants. He sets the pile beside you, just a bit too far away to actually feel his presence.

“You’re more than welcome to use the bathroom tonight if you want,” Cam murmurs. He gathers the used materials, the first aid kit, and stands. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

When he walks down the hallway this time, he ducks into his room. The door closes with a soft click.

You’re left sitting on the couch, staring at the provisions he left behind. The idea of taking a long bath or shower greatly appeals to you. But with no energy to start the process, it’s a lost cause. So you settle on peeling off your sweat-tinged clothes and trading them for the clean pair. But you can’t bring yourself to lie down and sleep.

Part of you doesn’t want this gaping discomfort between the two of you anymore. The other mockingly asks how you even plan to fix...this. The doubt grows louder, telling you that now isn’t the time. That if you sleep, things can go back to normal if only for a while. But a small part of you whispers in reply: when will things be normal, if ever?

The two streams of thought war with each other, back and forth. Until one finally wins out.

It leads you to Cam’s bedroom door and gives you enough courage to raise a loose first. Your knuckles rap against the thick wood three times. No answer. You steel yourself before your bravery wanes and enter his room.

Cam lies in bed, his back facing the open doorway. For a moment, you almost believe he’s asleep. But the subtle way his shoulder blades tense tell you otherwise. And of course it would. You’ve known Cam for years. Even after learning this new development about him, you still do.

It’s why you’re able to to sit beside him, somewhat closer than you were back on the couch. Why you reach out and gently place a hand on his raised shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.

“I’m not scared of you, if that’s what you think.” You lick your dry lips and swallow down your building nerves. “You’re still the same dork that loves mythology. The same kid who was horribly protective of his copy of the Matter of Britain. No wonder you were such a huge fan of Merlin while growing up.”

Cam shifts, rolling over to meet your gaze head on.

“This coming from the same person who asked me to read from that book when we were kids. I’d say that makes you as much of a dork as—oof!”

You smack him with a pillow a few times.

“That’s total heresy and you know it, Cameron Sims.”

His laughter is contagious as you keep up the attack. But one of your swings misses, and Cam strikes, grabbing at your wrist. With a startled “hey!”, you attempt to wriggle free but Cam’s grip is iron-clad. All your struggling does is draw you closer until you’re straddling him.

He sits up, still holding your wrist captive with a grin.

“You give?”

“For now,” you say, narrowing your eyes. “But just you wait.”

Cam chuckles deep and low. It’s a sound you didn’t realize you had taken for granted. One you want to keep hearing because this is your childhood friend. And someone you feel more than friendship for.

You reach out and cup his face, silencing his soft laughter. He stares at you with wide, dark brown eyes made visible by the bright moonlight outside. You smile.

“Can I see the real you? Please?”

Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, the sound flooding your veins and echoing in your head. You think Cam can hear the sound, too. He keeps his eyes trained on you as his appearance shifts again. This time, his black, bat-like wings are tucked against his back. But his scales are just as apparent as they were back at the warehouse.

Red-slitted eyes surrounded by black sclera regard the way your gaze widens. And you reach up with your other hand, letting your fingertips graze the odd yet faint blood red marks underneath his right eye.

“Are these letters?” you ask.

Cam leans into your touch with a soft breath.

“Yeah. They spell my demonic name: Caimellus.”

You say his name, repeating the three syllables a few times. You rather like how it sounds on your tongue.

“They’re faded,” he says, “because my mother was human while my father was an incubus. She was an ex-Hunter, to be more precise.”

Your mind recalls the robbery that took the lives of Cam’s parents. His mother, kind and gentle, and his caring yet stern father were never seen again after that night. The authorities cited the intruders as the cause of their deaths, which makes horrific sense. As does his sudden adoption by his godfather.

“It was the Conclave, wasn’t it?” you murmur. “Is that why you were taken in by Dr. Lane?”

Cam nods.

“He was my father’s trusted ally and another incubus. Once he heard about what happened, he immediately claimed me as my father wished in case he died. Dr. Lane is the reason I’ve been able to lay low and hide my demonic nature for so long.”

The moment of silence between you two is bittersweet in many ways. But you refuse to let it deter you from learning more about Cam.

Feeling emboldened by what’s been shared with you, you keep asking questions. Yes, he can feed off of human energy through sexual contact, but chooses not to. Thanks to Dr. Lane’s careful tutelage, Cam learned how to feed through platonic touch instead. The pinch you give to his side for realizing how he was able to lull to sleep as kids is only acknowledged with a chuckle.

You keep going, letting your fingertips trail and touch parts of his body. He confirms his scales are for defense while his claws are weapons in their own right. So are his fangs and tail, if he so chooses. The horns are more of an intimidation factor than anything else—

A dampened moan interrupts his explanation. Your fingertips have barely grazed the area where his horns and his scalp meet.

“S-sorry,” he says, sounding a little breathless. “Sensitive area.”

You don’t apologize. Because you aren’t sorry. And while holding his unsure if embarrassed gaze, you can’t help but want more.

“Can I...I want to thank you for saving me,” you whisper. “But only if you want me to.”

As if reading your mind, his slitted gaze flits down towards your lips before finding your eyes again.

“Please,” he breathes.

You lean down and press your lips against his. The kiss is chaste, as much as you wish it wasn’t, because it’s taken all of your nerves just to do this much. You can be satisfied with just this, even if he doesn’t return your feelings. You begin to pull away, only for a warm, steady touch against the nape of your neck to stop you.

Cam slots his mouth against yours, groaning at the contact. His claws gently scrape against your scalp, making you shudder and gasp. He uses the moment to press his tongue against yours, which you’re more than receptive to. There’s a sharp nip to your lip that you return with a huff of laughter. You “accidentally” let your fingers curl around the base of his horns and slowly rub the black keratin. He growls, a low yet deep sound, as he pulls you close so there’s no space between your bodies. You feel something wind around your waist and give it a brief squeeze.

Eventually, your lungs begin to burn. Just enough to cause some discomfort. You pull away from Cam with one last moan. Heat sears your cheeks from seeing the thin trail still connecting your mouths. It’s broken when Cam smirks up at you.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”

You’ve barely registered his words before his lips find yours again. It takes all your focus to not give in to the softness and warmth of his mouth.

“S-since when?” you manage before he silences you.

“Senior year.” A scrape of fang. “High school.” The slightest squeeze from his tail and his claw-tipped hands. “Night before prom.”

You force yourself to pull away and bite your bottom lip to ground yourself. When Cam attempts to follow, you press your fingertips against his mouth. But he kisses them, undeterred. You use the moment to catch your breath.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Your fingers are left a little cold by his retreat.

“Growing up, you only knew me as Cameron: a black, nerdy kid with coke-bottle glasses that was way into mythology and reading. As much as I wanted to tell you while growing up, I didn’t know if you would be okay with knowing me as Caimellus.”

So that’s the reason. This whole time, and even before, he’s been just as unsure as you. But not anymore. You hope he understands when you cup his face in your hands, and skim the pads of your thumbs against his cheeks. That when you press a kiss against the faint demonic lettering staining his skin, he knows. Witnessing the glassy shine to his eyes, you know he does. But hearing the words can’t hurt, either.

“I love you and I want to know both parts of you. Cam and Caimellus. Everything you have to offer, I want, for as long as you want me.”

Your body tips over, landing against the bed leaving you to stare up at Cam. He brushes the back of his knuckles against your cheek and smiles.

“Will forever work?”

You grin.

“Of course it will—”

You gasp as his clawed hands dip under your borrowed shirt, trailing up to your chest. All while his tail winds up your clothed leg and gently squeezes.

“Because I really like hearing you say my name,” he breathes against your neck.

Your fingers dig into his shirt and pull at the worn fabric.

“If you want to hear it again, you’ve got a couple of years to make up for. Think you can do it?”

One of his hands slips past the elastic of your sweatpants and you can’t help but lift your hips.

“In spades,” he promises.

“Sounds good to me.”

#cambion boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster/human #exophilia #terato #half-demon #half demon #lime #hope you guys enjoy!

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