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gunsandspaceships · 2 months ago

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MCU Timeline. Avengers: Infinity War

At the dawn of the universe - nothing.

The Big Bang - formation of the six Infinity Stones.

~500 or 964/965 AD - Thor is born.

Now we have this contradiction: the first Thor movie and all the MCU books tell us he was born in 964 or 965 AD, and this is the only time he says he's 1,500 years old. He could have rounded it up, or it could have been a mistake (like his mispronunciation of "Nidavellir") - pick your favorite explanation.

Early 1945 - during a fight with Steve Rogers, the Red Skull touches the Tesseract, and the Space Stone within it finds him unworthy and sends him to Vormir to serve as a guide for those seeking the Soul Stone.

Early 1990s - Gamora is born on the planet Zen-Whoberi.

~1999 - Thanos kills half of the population of Zen-Whoberi and kidnaps little Gamora, whose parents his army had just executed.

Between the fall of 2014 and May 2018:

Nebula sneaks onto Thanos's ship and attempts to kill him. She almost succeeds, but Thanos captures her.

He takes her to a cell, accesses her memory files, where Gamora mentions that she knows where the Soul Stone is, and then proceeds to torture her.

Between November 2013 and May 2018 - Thanos arrives on Nidavellir and orders Eitri to make him the Infinity Gauntlet. Once it is made, he shuts down the forge and kills all of Nidavellir's dwarves except Eitri, whom he deprives of his hands.

Beginning of June 2016 - with the help of Rogers and Romanoff, Maximoff and Wilson escape from the Raft. Scott Lang and Clint Barton make a deal with the US and German governments to remain under house arrest instead of going into hiding.

~June 2016 - Wanda and Vision start dating.

Okay, here’s the thing about the main event date: it depends on the city. Literally. If we’re in New York, it looks like mid-May, if we’re in Atlanta or Edinburgh, I’d say March. They don’t really go together, so we’ll have to pick one. Considering other movies like Ant-Man and the Wasp and Thor: Ragnarok, our pick should be mid-May 2018.

Can we narrow this down to days? Let's try:

If the calendar here is the same as ours, which is not always the case. But let's assume that it is.

There is also a contradiction in the film regarding the day of the week (Wednesday vs. Tuesday) for the first day. Now there is no hint as to which one we should choose. But as with the month, I assume that what happens in New York is closer to the truth, so I will choose Wednesday.

In mid-May we also have two options: the second week (May 9) and the third (May 16).

So, in What If? S1E5, there's a direct mention that it's been two weeks since Hank went into the Quantum Realm in Ant-Man and the Wasp (May 2), so it must be May 16. What If often makes mistakes, and later in the same episode, it makes an obvious one, but if it works in this case, let's go with that option.

~May 2, 2018 - Vision promises Tony that he will return, turns off his transponder, and leaves with Wanda for Scotland for a two-week vacation.

~May 9, 2018 - Thanos decimates Xandar and takes the Power Stone.

May 15 (Tuesday), 2018. Night - Tony dreams that he and Pepper are having a baby, Morgan.

May 16 (Wednesday), 2018

~11 am - 12 pm in NY:

Thanos attacks the Asgardian refugee ship Statesman and seizes the Space Stone.

Hulk fights Thanos but is easily defeated. Heimdall teleports him to Earth.

The death of half of Asgard's refugees, Heimdall and Loki.

Thanos sends his Black Order to search for the two Infinity Stones on Earth.

Thor is left unconscious in outer space among dead bodies.

Hulk crashes through the roof and stairs of the Sanctum Sanctorum and transforms back into Bruce. He informs Strange and Wong of the impending threat.

Tony and Pepper are running in New York's Central Park. Tony tells Pepper about his dream and asks her for a baby.

They are interrupted by the arrival of Strange and Banner, who take Tony away to save the world.

~1 pm in NY:

Wong gives Tony a lecture about the Infinity Stones. Strange reveals the Time Stone in his necklace. Bruce informs Tony of the situation and that behind the attack on New York in 2012 was also Thanos.

1:20 pm - Bruce tells Tony to call Steve Rogers. Tony tells Bruce that the Avengers have broken up.

Before he can make the call, a Black Order Q-ship arrives above them.

Peter Parker jumps off a school bus headed to MoMA and rushes to the ship's location.

Tony, Strange, Wong and Peter fight Ebony Maw and Cull Obsidian. Hulk refuses to come out.

Wong saves Tony by sending Cull Obsidian onto a glacier. He also cuts off his hand. Tony invites him to Pepperony's wedding.

Maw captures Strange and takes him to the Q-Ship.

Peter follows outside. Tony saves him by putting the Iron Spider suit on him. He sends him home, but Peter manages to cling to the ship and get inside.

Tony gets on the ship and tells Pepper that he won't be back for a while.

Wong returns to Sanctum.

1:42 pm - Bruce calls Steve on the phone Tony dropped.

Having received a distress signal from the Statesman, the Guardians of the Galaxy pick up Thor.

~2 pm in NY:

Gamora tells him about Thanos' plan. Thor takes some of their food, Quill's backpack, a pod and goes to Nidavellir with Rocket and Groot.

The rest of the team heads to Knowhere, where the Collector keeps the Reality Stone.

~Unspecified time, afternoon in NY:

Strange wakes up on the Q-Ship, and Maw begins torturing him with needles to obtain the Time Stone.

A rescue team (Tony, Peter and Levi) gathers above them. Peter comes up with a plan from Aliens.

Minutes later - Tony kills Maw by blowing a hole in the ship.

Tony and Steven argue over a course of action and agree to bring the fight with Thanos to Titan.

Tony makes Peter an Avenger.

~6 pm in NY:

~6:30 pm (NY)/11:30 pm (Scotland) - Wanda and Vision are walking through the streets of Edinburgh when they are attacked by Corvus Glaive and Proxima Midnight of the Black Order. Vision is injured and his powers are suppressed.

6:45 pm (NY)/11:45 pm (Scotland) - they are saved by the arriving Rogues: Rogers, Romanoff and Wilson. Proxima and the injured Glaive retreat. The Rogues take Wanda and Vision back to the Compound.

~Night in NY:

In space, Gamora asks Quill to kill her if Thanos captures her, so that the Titan will not learn the location of the Soul Stone. He vows to do so. They kiss.

By this time, the "invisible" Drax has been standing "motionless" for an hour and eating snacks.

Thanos attacks Knowhere and obtains the Reality Stone from the Collector. He then sets a trap for Gamora using the stone.

May 17 (Thursday), 2018

~Before 7 am in NY:

Rocket gives Thor a cybernetic eye.

GotG arrives on Knowhere. Using the Reality Stone, Thanos easily deals with them and captures Gamora.

GotG return to Benatar, where Quill spends the next five hours sitting and listening to New York Groove.

Aboard his mothership, Thanos shows Gamora her captive sister and tortures Nebula to reveal the location of the Soul Stone.

Thanos takes Gamora with him to Vormir.

While a Chitauri is putting Nebula back together, she kills him and escapes. She sends 23 secret coded messages to GotG asking them to meet her on Titan.

Five hours after Thanos captured Gamora - GotG finally receive Nebula's secret coded messages and travel from Knowhere to Titan.

~7 am in NY/1 pm in Wakanda:

Rogues arrive at the Compound. Rhodey talks to Secretary Ross, who orders him to arrest them. Rhodes waves him off.

The Avengers discuss the situation. Vision tells them that Wanda must destroy the stone in his head. Bruce gets the idea that simply taking it out might work. They head to Wakanda to do it and call T'Challa.

Okoye gathers Wakandan warriors.

T'Challa comes for Bucky Barnes and brings him a new vibranium arm.

Thor, Groot, and Rocket reach Nidavellir and meet with Eitri.

~8 am in NY:

Q-ship carrying Tony, Peter and Strange lands on Titan.

They are immediately attacked by GotG. After a short fight due to a misunderstanding, they form an alliance against Thanos.

Strange uses the Time Stone to see 14,000,605 alternate futures and finds only one winning.

Thanos and Gamora arrive on Vormir, where they are met by the Red Skull. Thanos throws his "daughter" off a cliff for the Soul Stone.

He wakes up with the Stone in his hand.

~9-10 am in NY/3-4 pm in Wakanda:

~9:30 am/3:30 pm - the Quinjet carrying the Rogues, Rhodes, Vision, and Banner arrives in Wakanda, where they are met by T'Challa, his warriors, and Barnes.

Note: The main functional feature of quinjets is that they fly exactly as long as the plot requires, and not as long as they would fly in reality. This is not the first Avengers movie where yesterday it flew to the States all night, and today it took the jet a couple of hours to cover about twice that distance.

~10 am/4 pm - Shuri begins working on Vision and the Mind Stone. Thanos' army enters the planet's atmosphere above Wakanda.

On Nidavellir, Thor, Rocket, Groot, and Eitri restart the forge to create a new weapon, Stormbreaker.

The Battle of Titan.

The Battle of Wakanda.

Creation of the Stormbreaker on Nidavellir.

Bruce in the Hulkbuster kills Cull Obsidian, Wanda kills Proxima Midnight, Vision kills Corvus Glaive.

~10:20 am/4:20 pm - during their duel, Thanos gravely wounds Tony and prepares to kill him, but Strange gives him the Time Stone in exchange for Tony's life.

With five Stones, Thanos teleports to Wakanda. Having not met any worthy resistance for himself, Thanos takes the last Stone from Vision.

10:24 am/4:24 pm - The Snap.

Thanos meets little Gamora in the Soul Stone and then teleports to his garden world to retire in peace.

10:25 am/4:25 pm - 50% of all living beings in the Universe disappear from reality.

Nick Fury manages to send an SOS signal to Captain Marvel's pager before turning to dust.

Note: Does Marvel want to explain why Edinburgh and Atlanta look more like it's winter, while in New York it's almost summer?

Tony and Nebula are left alone on Titan.

~Later that day:

At some point, they depart for Earth on the Benatar.

The remaining Avengers return to the Compound to monitor losses.

Over the next few days:

They visit Fury's last location and find his pager, which they bring to the Compound.

Days later - Carol Danvers arrives at the Compound and soon after heads back into space to search for Tony.

MCU Timeline: The Infinity Saga

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lizz-crimson · 7 months ago

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The Gala (Doomfist X Female! Reader)

Ahhhh! I've been working on this one for a while! Doomfist lovers come get yall juice!

Summary: After returning a stolen file to Doomfist, your boss has an extra special mission for you.

Tags/Warnings: [SFW, Female Reader, (Name) used instead of (Y/n), Doom is a bit of a tease, very gentleman, very polite, a lil jealous.]

Words: 5200+

A silence sat in the meeting room. Doomfist's hands pressed on the table as he leaned on it, glaring at his comrades. Reaper turned his head to the side, Sombra gave a side-eye to Moira, and Widowmaker didn't react at all as usual. Moira, however, stared right back at Doomfist, though her gaze wasn't nearly as piercing.

Akande inhaled through his nose, making it wrinkle like an angry lion. "So, where is it?" His chest fell harshly as he breathed out, his tone dangerous. "Where. Is. The file." He emphasized. Sombra's eyes flicked to Moira. She couldn't contain her curiosity. Moira was usually so organized.

"It's gone," Moira said factually.

"Gone where?" Doomfist shifted to lean more on the table, his glare intensifying.

"Am I to magically discern where all my stolen files go?" Moira asked.

"No," Akande said sharply. Then there was a pause. "You're to make sure all files remain hidden. Secret. Locked up." The steel table dented as he gradually added more weight to his hands. "You are the one responsible if something goes missing," he growled. Moira's own nose curled, and she immediately retorted.

"I'll have you know, Akande, that it was Sombra who was in charge of that particular sector at the time. Not I."

Sombra gaped. "What? You're trying to pin this on me?"

"I'm not trying; it's a simple fact," Moira replied. Sombra groaned and gestured to Reaper.

"It was Reaper who was by the server room during the attack!"

Reaper stood, his chair falling to the floor as he loomed over Sombra. "Shove that finger in my face again and see what happens," he threatened.

A slam of Akande's gauntlet was enough to shut everyone up and gain attention back to him. The poor table now bore a mighty dent in on itself.

"Enough! If you all weren't vital to Talon, I'd make sure you--"

A sudden round of knocking on the meeting room doors made everyone turn their heads. Nobody else was told to come join the meeting. Could there be another attack? There were no alarms going off.

Akande flumped back in his chair with a huff. He rubbed his eyes and gestured for Sombra to go see. The hacker gave an annoyed look but didn't complain. She went on over to the large double doors and opened them up.

You, one of the middle-tier Talon soldiers, stood on the other side. Your cheek bore a sizable bruise, and your gear was messy and damaged all over. In your hand was a cracked datapad.

"Hello," you said politely, but tiredly, not even aware of the uproar that had been going on moments before. You held out the datapad to Sombra with both hands. The last thing you wanted to do was damage the thing further. "Um, one of the agents from the attack made off with this, and Miss O'deorain wasn't in her lab, so I figured I should bring it on up here," you explained quickly. You weren't supposed to be here, and you knew it.

Sombra snatched the datapad out of your hands and then began furiously tapping away on it. She sighed after a few seconds. Nothing had been breached. Thank God.

"Hey, Doomfist!" Sombra turned from you, wiggling the datapad in the air. "(Name) got our file back! Say thank you!"

Doomfist pushed himself out of his chair and lumbered over, snatching the datapad from Sombra's hand.

"Ay, watch the gauntlet!" she hissed, rubbing her wrist. Akande brushed her off and then took a look through the datapad himself. He hummed. Not a satisfied hum, nor a frustrated hum. Just a deep rumble of his chest.

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours as he handed the pad back to Sombra.

"Did you look in the file?" he asked.

"No, sir," you answered curtly and honestly.

"Did the one who stole it get away?"

"Uh, yes, unfortunately." The sting of your bruise was still very much present.

Your boss's gaze was always so intense. And long. And solely on you. Not a group of operatives. Just you.

Akande nodded, seemingly believing you and mercifully speaking up.

"Thank you. You are dismissed."

He shut the doors on you without giving you the chance to say, 'Yes, sir.'.

Working for Talon wasn't completely stressful. You actually had a lot of downtime to do as you pleased when you weren't on duty. Of course, you were required to live on base, so you were always ready for potential attacks like earlier. Which is exactly how you ended up getting into a brawl with some sneak thief agent. The bruise ached, but you were just glad they hadn't gotten away with it.

The day stretched on, and when your shift ended, you went straight to your dorm and flopped into bed, still in your damaged uniform and with a hastily applied bandage on your cheek. The other bed in the room was vacant. Your roommate had been caught trying to defect, and, well… you no longer had to trip over her shoes in the mornings. The bed was now where you piled your snacks.

Speaking of, you went ahead and grabbed some mini Oreos and continued to laze about. Just as you got comfortable and relaxed, a round of knocking sounded. You stood and approached the door with a quiet sigh. "Coming." When you opened it, you nearly choked on your snack.

Widowmaker stood on the other side, looking unimpressed as always.

Was this it? Were mini Oreos to be your final meal? Why didn't you grab the regular-sized ones under the mattress?

It took a good few seconds to notice the lack of bullet in your cranium. Windowmaker didn't even have her gun on her. Your feet shuffled, and you cleared your throat.

"Uh," you stuttered. "Can I--?"

"Doomfist wants to see you," she said in a flat tone. "Now." The added use of 'now' made you shudder.

"Right," you replied. You threw your shoes back on, and Widowmaker made way for you as you passed her without another word.

You had always been slightly afraid of elevators. You couldn't shake the thought of one of them malfunctioning in a plethora of different ways. It was rare it happened nowadays, but you assumed Rick the elevator guy was hired for a reason. Your hands formed fists over and over at your side until the elevator came to a slow stop at the top floor. A breath of relief left you as soon as the doors mercifully slid open.

Okay, now for the second, and arguably more prominent issue.

Akande's office was no more than two steps outside of the elevator. To get it over with, you knocked despite your uneasiness. Two run-ins with the boss in one day? Clearly luck had decided to pick on you specifically.

You flinched as the doors slid open, and Akande's voice sounded out.

"You got here fast. Come in," he said. He was sat at his desk at the far side of the room, typing something into another data pad. The curtain wall behind him had a view of the city anyone would kill for, and the rest of the office looked more like a real living space than a place of business. As you came in, the doors closed behind you, and he gestured to another chair in front of his desk. "Have a seat."

You sat.

Were you supposed to talk now? You weren't really sure, and you didn't want to take the risk either.

"(Name)," he said, breaking you out of your nerves. He put down the datapad, giving you his full attention. "I know it's a sudden call, but I wanted to go over today's breach and the agent you failed to catch."

Oh, dear.

You stuttered. "I promise I tried my—"

"Do not panic. You're not in trouble," he said.

"I'm not?"

"No. Reaper dealt with your quarry after the meeting earlier. I only have a few questions."

That was a relief, but you couldn't help but feel like Akande was being unusually calm about this. You failed to catch a thief but were able to recover a stolen file. He said you weren't in trouble, yet he'd called you to his office for more questions? Sombra could easily roll back the security feed, corrupted or not, and get answers if he had any doubt about her honesty.

A snort. "You are thinking pretty hard. Didn't I just say you weren't in trouble?" he asked.

"Oh, uh," you stuttered and adjusted yourself in your seat. "You did, yeah."

He chuckled and stood from his seat. "Calm down. This is an invitation, not an interrogation." He went to stand before the curtain wall, hands behind his back. "Are you aware of the Vishkar event going on this Friday?" he asked.

"You mean that gala?"

He turned his head, pleased. "Yes, that one. They have one once a year, and this time it's being thrown there." He pointed to a tall building outside. It wasn't far off, and the Vishkar logo flickered to life as the evening sun set in. "As you know, that building is home to many experimental designs. One's Talon would greatly benefit from. At first I was going to send Sombra during the festivities, but I received an invite to the gala itself."

That made sense. Akande wasn't someone you'd want to make an enemy out of. Holding a gala and not inviting him to it, all the while holding beneficial technologies, experimental or not, was not a good idea.

"But this invite has a certain requirement." He turned his body fully to face you. "A plus one."

Oh.

"Oh."

"So here's my proposition," he started, walking around his desk to you. "You and I will attend the gala, mingle, find someone to plant false evidence onto, then leave. Sombra and Reaper will have been in and out by that time, and no blame can be placed on our organization."

It didn't really sound like he was asking, but he didn't sound forceful about it either. That tone of a dangerous leader he always carried was gone. Now he was just a man. A big and intimidating one, but a man nonetheless.

One who'd especially look nice in a suit, too.

"I accept," you said.

"Fantastic. Here." He suddenly handed you a card. "This should hold more than enough funds to ready yourself for the event. If you want my personal recommendation, the boutique near the port has many fine dresses and accessories to suit a plethora of tastes." He circled back around his desk and sat down again. He took the datapad once more and began typing something down. "I'll have transport arranged in an hour. You should also stop by the medical bay to have Moira fix up that bruise of yours. No need for a scandal at the party, yes?"

"Uh, right—" You cleared your throat. "Yes, sir."

He smiled. "Good." He leaned back a bit, his eyes returning to the datapad. "Now, I have other work to attend to. I shall pick you up at eight on Friday."

You stood, excusing yourself. For once, you were thankful for the privacy of the elevator. Your ears burned like the sun, and the shiny interior reflected your bright red face right back at you. You were going to a gala. With Doomfist. And you were actually looking forward to it. Why did he pick you? Was it because you let the thief get away? No, no, he'd already said you weren't in trouble. Ugh.

You'd covered your face with Doomfist's card from the imaginary audience at this point. The damn thing was a black card, of course. Shiny. Few fingerprints. It was likely new. You made a mental note to give it back to him as soon as you could. Who knows how much money it held?

Enough for a dress at that extremely expensive boutique by the port, plus accessories.

Yeah, you really needed to give this back to him.

The elevator door opened, and you pushed the card into your pocket for the time being. You nearly bumped into Rick the elevator guy as you stepped out.

"Whoa, sorry, Rick!" you apologized.

"No worries. You should probably steer clear of the elevators for the time being, though. The one on the west wing fell from the fourth floor," he replied casually.

You exhaled. "Oh…"

What kind of person forgets their own favorite color?

You, apparently. As soon as you walked into the boutique you were met with all manner of gorgeous dresses in all colors and styles. You were hoping it would be a quick trip, but no. Doomfist needed to send you to the best damn place in the city. How dare he.

Your attention was caught by a sparkling necklace in a display case nearby. The chain was thin, like most necklaces, and the bale held a pendant in the shape of a bird. The iridescent shine of the piece reminded you of a starling's feathers.

At least this choice wasn't hard.

The dress was still giving you a headache, though. You swore you'd been looking for over an hour. You don't recall ever spending so much time picking out clothes in your life. Let a alone a dress. You hadn't worn one in years now. You never had a reason. Sure as hell did now.

You let out a frustrated huff and put another dress back on the rack.

"Awe, having trouble, amiga?"

"Jesus!" You whip around and see Sombra on the other side of the clothes rack, smirking over at you. "Sombra?"

She chuckled. "Hola."

"What are you doing here?" you asked, still trying to calm your heart.

"Just browsing. This place has a good selection. I'll definitely sneak back in after closing to collect."

"Mm. Well, at least you found something. I can't choose a dress for the life of me."

Sombra tsk'd. "C'mon, Doomfist isn't picky."

You felt your ears burn up again. "I'm—I'm not worried about that; I just. Well, there's a lot of options, so…"

"Well then, what's your favorite color?"

"…I forgot."

"Ha! And you're sure you're not worried about Doomfist's opinion?"

You didn't respond that time.

"Ay, don't worry about it. Just go to the VIP selection. I hear the good stuff's in there."

There was indeed a whole other section of the store. It was closed off; the walls were pitch black, and they even had an employee at the front to check before letting people inside.

You look yourself over. Jeans, a t-shirt, a bruise you should really get looked at. You didn't match the usual description for a rich person. Hell, people had been giving you the side-eye since you walked into the boutique.

Sombra rolled her eyes. "The card."

"The card…? Oh!"

You pulled out Doomfist's card from your wallet.

"That's your ticket," Sombra said. "Now, go. I need to copy these serial numbers."

You've never gotten a dirtier look than the one you got from the entry clerk at the entrance to the VIP selection. Let's just say the disgusted-looking-up-and-down expression wasn't exclusive to movies. It was gone as soon as it came, and the clerk interlocked her fingers and put on her best customer service smile.

"Hello, how can I help you?"

"Hi, um," you handed her the card. "This'll get me in, right?"

The woman looked taken aback. She took the card, scanned it, then went wide-eyed at her screen. She quickly handed the card back to you and nodded. "Why, yes, of course. Hehe, go on in."

"Thanks."

"No issue, ma'am, and if you need anything, just holler."

"Will do."

You won't. Kiss ass.

So, time for round two of dress-hunting. You swear, how many outfits could they pack into one place?

You stopped in your tracks. Looking up at a pristine display case, a dress more gorgeous than any other. The neckline was low, but not too low, and still left plenty of room for the necklace you picked out. Sleeveless. The skirt was long but wasn't meant to touch the floor and had a slit to show off one leg. The best part: it was the perfect color!

"See something you like, ma'am?" another clerk walking about asked.

"Yes," you replied in a snap.

Friday arrived a bit too soon for your taste. You took the last couple of days learning to walk in heels again. How Widowmaker did it all the time was beyond you, but you got it down in time. Your hair was fixed up, your nails painted, bruise gone, and your makeup done. The dress was a perfect fit, and the necklace around your neck was the cherry on top. You knew you shouldn't worry about it too much, but damn, you hoped Doomfist liked it.

Your phone buzzed, and you swiped it up. Just as you feared, it was time to go. Taking a breath, you put your phone and other things inside your purse and headed out. You were meant to brief with Doomfist, Sombra, and Reaper first. So you headed to the meeting room from before. Along the way, getting many a compliment from other agents. Though they were definitely confused on why you were dressed like that in the first place.

You knocked on the meeting room doors again, being immediately buzzed in. Sombra was again the one to open the doors, and you blushed as you saw that smirk of hers form on her face. She was definitely going to make a fuss, and it began when she stepped out and guided you inside by the shoulders. "The guest of honor is here!" she announced. Reaper stood just in front of you two, blocking your view of Doomfist. "Move it." Sombra shoved him and pushed you forward as he growled.

Now, you stood in front of Doomfist. And he looked nice. A white suit. White. It was perfect for him.

You looked at the wall. You swore you heard Reaper snort.

"You two are dismissed," Doomfist said to Sombra and Reaper. "Remember the plan. Don't get sidetracked."

"Got it, boss," Sombra saluted.

Reaper grunted. The both of them left, leaving you and your very nicely dressed boss alone.

It took a moment, but you finally built up the courage to look at him again.

"You look--"

Ah, you'd cut each other off. A chuckle left the both of you. Doomfist gestured to you.

"You first," he said.

"Ah, um, you…" You took a breath. "You look really nice."

"Me? Have you seen yourself?" he asked, looking you up and down. "You are absolutely breathtaking."

"Thank you," you replied. Damn it all. Your ears were going to burn off at this rate. "And I appreciate you choosing me for this mission, Doomfist. Er—is Akande all right?"

He chuckled and held out his arm for you. "Akande is fine. Always fine."

You allowed your heart a moment before you linked your arm with his.

"Now, come. The car is waiting outside."

Akande led you through the back halls of the base. No more ogling eyes from other agents. The sun was setting by the time you stepped outside. Waiting for the two of you was a long black car. A limousine.

Akande opened the door for you. "Ladies first," he said. You climbed in, and he right after you. "Diver."

All it took was a word, and the car was off.

"You picked the perfect color for yourself," he said.

"Oh, thank you. There were a lot of options there," you replied, fiddling with the necklace you bought. Akande's eyes landed on it.

"Let me see that." He leaned over and gently took the starling pendant in his hand, examining it. He hummed, and you could feel his breath hit your chest. His smile shifted to more of a smirk as he looked back up at you. "Who told you I was fond of starlings?"

You swallowed. "Nobody. I just got lucky."

"Well, luck is certainly fond of you, isn't he?" He said, leaning back. "I hope I don't have competition."

A chuckle left you. "Are you saying you'd fight a concept over me?"

"Any man would," he replied.

As the car neared the Vishkar building, Akande pulled something out of a bag on the floorboard. A bag that matched the color of your dress.

"And this is for you."

"Wow, it's gorgeous," you said as you took it. "I hope it didn't set you back much."

A more boisterous laugh left him this time. Your face went red again. How'd you forget how loaded the man was already?

"Never mind," you pouted. In efforts to save your embarrassment, you changed the subject. "So, about the mission…"

"Yes, yes," he calmed. "There is a USB in your new bag. Once I find someone to plant it on, I'll tell you."

The car came to a stop outside of the entrance to the Vishakr building.

"For now, we enjoy ourselves," he said.

Stepping out of the car, cameras flash, taking pictures of you and Akande. You ignored them, a bit too preoccupied with linking your arm with his again. The suit may have covered his muscular frame, but you damn sure could feel them.

And you were glad for it. Once you got inside the building itself, you and Akande were headed straight for an elevator. A godforsaken elevator. Your arm held his tighter as you two stepped inside, and he took notice.

"Not a fan?"

You squeezed your eyes shut. "No."

He held your arm a bit tighter and brought you closer. "Do not worry. I've got you."

"Appreciated."

After what felt like an eternity, the elevator stopped on the top floor. The doors opened, and you breathed a sigh of utter relief, opening your eyes again.

"See, you survived," Akande said, leading you out.

"I did," you nodded.

He led you through the room. The place was full of people you'd seen on the news for their achievements and ambitions. Vishkar didn't spare an invite for anyone. It made planting evidence harder. With so many eyes around, anyone could see her. And it wasn't like she was dressed subtly.

But Akande didn't seem concerned with that right now. He led you to a table, pulling out your chair and letting you sit down. A waiter brought over a couple drinks and menus, then left you two to think on your orders.

"Anything catch your eye, Starling?"

"Mmm, I'm stuck between the steak or the lobster," you replied. It took another few seconds to register the new nickname. "Wait, what did you call me?"

"You heard me," he gave a lopsided smile.

You quickly covered your face with the menu. You never expected your boss to be a tease.

"I'm leaning toward the steak as well. Shall we try it together?"

You peeked over your menu, burning ears just in view. "Sure."

"And I'll be sure to get you some ice cream for dessert," he chuckled. Oh, this man was awful.

Yet every moment was enjoyed. You don't think you ever smiled this much at a dinner date. Akande, while normally your scary, ruthless boss, was nothing short of a gentleman. He asked you questions, and he answered your own. You left to go to the bathroom; he'd watch over your drink. Not that anyone would dare try to mess with you or him, but there's no reason to not be cautious.

After dinner, the main event of the gala began, with scientists and entrepreneurs coming onto the stage in front to announce their projects and products. Most were unimpressive, just new ways of documenting information and simple construction projects. It made you wonder what types of experimental designs Akande was so interested in in the first place.

The next person took the stage. A man in business attire and holding probably the snobbiest smirk you'd ever seen. You couldn't help but curl your nose in slight disgust when he spoke so highly of his new 'Carry-Coin' project.

"Mm," you grunted.

"You don't seem fond of that one," Akande said.

"I'm… not," you admitted.

"Good," he replied. "Because he is our man."

You smiled at that one, and Akande chuckled.

Finally the man's announcements came to a close, and he was given minimal praise from the rest of the guests. The lights remained dim, and music began to play. While other guests took to the floor, you and Akande remained seated. Waiting.

"You clumsy fuck!"

Your head whipped to the side. There the snob was, yelling at a poor waitress who'd tripped and spilled wine on his suit. He was rending into the poor girl, and anger welled in your chest.

"That's your cue," Akande whispered low into your ear. It didn't exactly calm you.

So, with reddened ears, you got up, new bag on your shoulder, and approached the two.

"Goodness, you're a mess," gasped as you stepped up.

The man growled. "Yeah, and you can blame that one." He pointed his thumb to the waitress.

You waved your hands dismissively.

"Ah, leave her be. Nothing some wet wipes can't fix up," you said. You nodded at the waitress, who scurried off right away.

The man pouted. You pulled out some wipes and took his sleeve. "Now, what's that face for? Lighten up." You smiled up at him. His own face reddened.

"Oh… fine. You're persuasive, lady."

"I'm not the only one. Your speech was impressive."

The man raised his head up high. "Wasn't it? I'm sure to make millions within the quarter, hehe." He looked down at you and smirked. "And you're more than welcome to it all, doll face."

Your nose twitched. It had never been harder not to punch someone.

"Oh, some wine got on your back, too. Here…" You went behind him, rubbing his shoulder and pulling the USB out of your bag with your other hand. You dropped it into his coat pocket. You could see Akande from where you were, and you nodded. You couldn't help but notice his gaze was a bit harder, though.

"There ya go," you said, tossing the wipes into a trashcan nearby.

"Thank you, doll face. You've saved my night."

He looked out onto the dance floor.

"Though a dance would certainly make it better…"

Before you could decline yourself, a big hand found its place on your waist. You looked up, slightly startled. Akande glared over your shoulder.

"Sorry," he spoke, his voice low and clearly not sorry. Dangerous. Like the boss you knew. "But she's already taken."

The man all but disappeared, shrinking into himself and shuffling off quickly. Akande's hand slipped from your waist, and you turned to look up at him. His eyes were still locked ahead.

"You, uh, really wanted to scare him off, huh?" you asked, trying to lighten him up.

"Yes," he replied.

Well, that didn't work.

It was your turn to look out at the dance floor, where people danced to a high-energy beat.

"Fair warning, I haven't danced in years, but…" you trailed, but still left your meaning clear.

He followed your gaze, and his face relaxed. "Don't worry," he said, taking your waist again. "I'm here, and I'm an excellent teacher."

There we go.

To your absolute astonishment, the high-energy music ended as soon as you and Akande stepped onto the floor and switched to a slower, more romantic song.

"Are you serious?" You deadpanned; your poor face was going to bake. Meanwhile, Akande let out that boisterous laugh of his, and he took one of your hands in his while you put the other on his shoulder.

"I told you, luck is on your side," he said.

"No, luck is your wingman."

"Then he and I have no reason to compete after all."

And so, swaying to the gentle rhythm, you finally gain the courage to look up at him without letting your face deter you.

"Gaining some confidence, finally?"

"A little. Could be the wine."

A chuckle left him again, and you could feel it rumble in his chest. One hand came to lift your chin. "Red or not, you make me look pale in comparison." With that, he leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on your cheek. Right where that once painful bruise had been.

Your face pressed into his chest. It was the reddest it had ever been.

Some time later, after your dance and promised dessert of Oreo ice cream. A sound came from the communicator in Akande's suit pocket.

"Boss, all blueprints secured and headed back to base," Sombra said.

Perfect timing. The festivities were ending, and people were already filtering out of the building.

"Very good. (Name) and I will make our way out."

You stood with him, collecting all your things, then took his arm again. He didn't even have to ask this time. You two made your way back to the devil that was the elevator, and while you went down, you spoke up.

"I know this was more for a mission and all… but I enjoyed myself tonight. So, thank you, Akande."

"Of course, Starling. This wouldn't have gone as smoothly without you, and I would have enjoyed myself far less."

The car hadn't arrived yet by the time you and Akande stepped outside. The night was late, and you shivered from the cool air.

"Cold?" Akande asked.

"Yep," you replied, rubbing your arms with your hands.

"Hm. Here."

The next moment his suit jacket was placed upon you. The damn thing practically ate you, but you nuzzled into it all the same. "Thanks," your muffled voice came.

When the car came, you and he piled in, both letting out tired sighs. A single word to the driver later and they were off back to base. A mighty yawn left you.

"You look like you're ready for bed," Akande chuckled.

"I am."

"Join me?"

Your face didn't have the energy to be red anymore. You simply placed your head on his shoulder. "Yeah…"

You were nearly asleep when you returned to base. You two went in the way you came out to avoid any agents on night shift. Just before you reached the elevator, you remembered something important.

"Oh, hold on!"

You rummaged through your bag and pulled out his card. "Here you go. I meant to give it back earlier."

He held out his hand, pausing you.

"Keep it. It's yours."

"Huh? Are you sure? I mean, it's your money," you replied.

He held out his arm as the elevator door opened. "Oh, please. I'm not going to miss one hundred thousand dollars anytime soon."

You linked your arm with his one more time.

"How much?"

"You heard me."

Huh. And they say chivalry is dead.

---

Sombra set the communicator down on the dented table, in her other hand, a set of colorful cards. A lot of them.

Reaper placed a red four on top of a red three.

"Uno," came Reaper's amused voice. Sombra quickly fell into a string of Spanish curses before flopping back in her chair.

"(Name) gets to go to a gala while we are stuck here at base." She crossed her arms, pulling a green four from the deck and feeling her nose twitch. They never had to steal anything in the first place. Nothing but garbage is ever announce at the Vishkar Gala.

Reaper shrugged. "You helped her."

"That was a coincidence. I didn't know the bag would match her dress. I gave to Doomfist to help him."

"Whatever. Also, "Reaper placed his last card on the pile, "I win."

"Oh, you—!" No. No, we have time for one more!"

"No. I'm done playing."

"Come onnn!" she whined. She looked around and pulled another game off the shelf. "I have New Phone Who Dis!"

Reaper sighed. "Fine, but don't post anything like last time."

-----

There you go! Hope yall liked it! This will also show up on my AO3 later! Link in pinned post on my profile! Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

#doomfist x reader #overwatch 2 #overwatch #ow2 #ovw #fanfiction #fanfic #akande ogundimu #doomfist #talon #doomfist overwatch #overwatch doomfist #sombra #moira o'deorain #overwatch reaper #gabriel reyes

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a-mere-bog-witch · 5 days ago

Note

Interlude: Radio towers?

@typosandtea ooh okay so this is actually one I'm VERY excited to finish... A bit more "high concept" than most of my previous fics, it's going to juxtapose three different instances of radio towers and responding to distress beacons in the story between Nora and Danse. It's all about the signals everyone is putting out and who those signals reach! Literal radio towers, literal distress signals, and metaphorical ones of each, too. This fic has been waffling between being just an "interlude" between multi-chapter sections of Public Works and a full-blown three chapter fic, and I still can't decide which way to push it 😅

A wip snippet for your reading pleasure, takes place about midway through and shouldn't need much context other than (obviously) there is a developing relationship between Danse and General Nora. Enjoy!

Haylen was checking on the radio tower at the top of the police station when she heard it. She looked towards Knight Chan, in case it was her, but the Knight was on the opposite side of the roof, watching out towards the street. It was a strange sound, coming from the Commonwealth wasteland: laughter. Not necessarily a good sound, given the insane number of trigger-happy, murderous psychopaths in the Commonwealth, but this was deep, full, good-natured laughter— between two voices she recognized. She looked off the back edge of the roof to see Paladin Danse and the Minuteman General, Nora, walking towards the station about a block away. Haylen couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but Nora was gesturing wildly, telling some story and smiling, and the Paladin was laughing. Laughing. Haylen almost laughed herself, it was such a strange sight. She wasn’t sure she had ever heard Paladin Danse laugh, but if she had it was definitely not like that. He looked so foreign as she watched: Danse smiling fondly down at Nora, Nora sneaking grinning looks up at him as she finished her story. They stopped a ways outside the station perimeter, in the little alley around the corner from anyone else’s line of sight. The pair were talking more quietly now, but Nora gestured back into the street in the opposite direction like they were about to part ways. A moment later she grabbed the bars across the chest of Danse’s power armor, pulled him down towards her, and stepped up onto his armored toes, saying something very quietly while looking the Paladin in the eye. After a moment there, faces so close, Nora leaned over the buttressing on the front of his armor and kissed him. Haylen’s jaw dropped and a huge grin spread across her face. She stood frozen, eyes wide as the pair kissed, a blush rising on her cheeks though she couldn’t bring herself to look away. The Paladin’s gauntleted hands went to Nora’s back and pulled her in tighter, Nora’s tricorn hat almost falling off as she caught it against the back of her head with one hand. Danse straightened and lifted Nora off her feet. Damn, she would have to congratulate the Paladin when he got into the station.

Hope you like it! Thank you for the ask! <3

Original post/prompts here: https://www.tumblr.com/a-mere-bog-witch/787287554455224320/wip-ask-game

#public works fic #one day I swear #paladin danse #danse fo4 #ask game #wip snippet

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ohsayit · 1 year ago

Text

Steal His Shirt

Link to AO3 is here

Relationships: F!Tav/Zevlor Additional Tags: Penis In Vagina Sex, Friends With Benefits Summary: Post game. Zevlor settled down outside of Baldur's Gate. He got in to a weird relationship with Tav. One particular morning, Tav decided to mess with him by stealing his shirt. He was not impressed by her little game. Yet, she was sill quite entertaining. Word count: 3k

Zevlor was a simple man. He didn't need much possession to live his life. He preferred practicality over vanity. What good could a fanciful sword do if it broke at his first swing in combat?

After coming back from Avernus, he trimmed down his possessions even further. He only had so much time to pack up before he got exiled from the place he once guarded with his own life. Ceremonial armour was left behind as they were no longer needed. Ring with the commander's seal was taken from him as well as his home.

He got to keep his sword and gauntlet because he paid for those himself. He needed them for the road. He was filled with bitterness when his sword was returned to him. He looked at Helm’s symbol at the hilt next to the filing marks, where his rank once was, and decided to file the deity away himself. That was the most petty and revengeful thing he would do. For all the rubbish fate had thrown at him.

He eventually reached Baulder’s Gate with whoever survived that one Hell of a journey.

He was secretly glad that people died when the cult of Absolute bursted in the city. The thought was as low as it was practical. The tieflings that came with him had a better chance to settle in if the city was less crowded.

Once all the civilians settled down, there was only his fellow former Riders left. Some of the young ones joined the Fist. Some others grouped up to start their own adventure. A few of the older ones and his close associates decided to leave with him. Maybe he got his position stripped off him, but not these comrades who went through literal Hell with him.

They settled far out of reach of the Fist and their own kin. Their kin made it quite clear on their way from Moonrise Tower to Baldur’s Gate that they didn’t want any more to do with him unless it was life and death. Well, maybe they wanted him even less when it was life and death. Alas, his duty was fulfilled when they reached the city. He held up his end of things.

Zevlor really thought his soldiering days were beyond him. He thought he could try living a civilian life. However, power came back to him. He didn’t realise that his civilian life ended when power was granted to him a second time.

He lived to serve a purpose. Glory and honour were merely rewards that came along. Despite not knowing which god he should pray to, the power he wielded was true. He needed to do something with it. He couldn’t bear the thought that he held power only for it to go to waste.

Zevlor and his men settled in a medium-sized town. It sat along the way leading to Baldur’s Gate. Travellers and merchants that went through this place kept it busy. It was peaceful enough. They joined the local force run by the town.

They felt something was wrong shortly after. It was Serrell that pointed it out for them. Protecting a small place like this was too idle for them. Their training and discipline from the old days pushed them towards something bigger than the town they resided in.

To Zevlor’s surprise, everyone left the local force. He would have thought some would want to settle down. They seemed to be at the right age for that.

They formed a group and started to sign up for various missions. Their skills and might were proved to be very much needed. They gained reputation quickly. The youngest once said she lived more comfortably now than in Elturel. She made more or less the same money but a lot more freedom. Everyone seemed to be truly happy since Avernus.

One thing to Zevlor’s particular delight was seeing their new friend again.

He wrote to Tav before they left Baldur’s Gate and after they set up base here. He mentioned in the letters that she was welcome to visit any day. He didn’t expect her to come. She was the beloved hero, after all. Everyone wanted some of her.

From the interaction they had before, Zevlor knew their beloved hero was not the sweet girl with a pretty face she presented to the world. He liked her. She was a good ally and could be a good friend, most of the time.

Tav was very happy to see them. She sat next to Zevlor and drank the night away with them. She drank quite a bit and was leaning on him by the end of the night. His heart stirred but he knew better than overthinking. He just sat there and let her rest against his arm while participating in the chat and drank himself.

He didn’t drink much. As an unspoken rule, two others didn’t drink much either. The pair of them took all the drunk ones to Serrell’s for the night. He lived the closest to the tavern. Zelvor’s only mission was to escort Tav up to her room.

He was proved wrong. He didn’t overthink.

Once they were up the stairs, Tav didn’t look as drunk as she was when people were around. The way she dragged him into the bed with her, swiftly rode on his hips, and eagerly shoved her tongue into his mouth were forceful and passionate. Her eyes burned with lust when his name spilled from her lips. She knew what she was doing. She didn’t sit next to him by chance.

Maybe he was old. He was not dead.

He liked her.

He woke up at his usual time in the morning. Event from the previous night came to him. He got too comfortable in the bed with another body’s warmth. He missed the chance to get up and didn’t get a second one until noon that day.

She stayed for three nights. She was on her way elsewhere, just like all other travellers who set foot in this town. They were never to stay.

What more could he ask for?

He had no idea why she chose to spend her nights with him. He didn’t dwell on that one. He had a life now. He had a little home to himself in this town. He had his loyal companions. He had a purpose and the power to serve it. To ask for anything else would be greed.

However, he could hardly be blamed for being greedy.

Tav dropped by every month or two. She seemed to be always on her way somewhere. They had fallen into the habit of spending nights together whenever she stopped by.

Zevlor knew damn well if he wanted to have a life with someone, he should stop joining Tav at night. He told himself, there was no such person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, just yet. While he was searching for that special someone, maybe he could indulge a little. He was not immune to mortal desires and temptations.

Hells, when he realised that was a terrible idea, it was too late.

He didn’t like her for her pretty face. She was smart, cunning, steel minded, and practical. He had not seen another one of her type. He knew that if he wanted to settle for a life, her type would be a challenging choice, to say the least. The worst part was that he was very fond of everything that made her “Tav”.

They never knew each other’s schedule. Her visit was always a nice surprise. Tav arrived yesterday while Zevlor was meant to depart with his men today before noon.

It was easy for Zevlor to arrange himself. The team was to meet up at the tavern before departing. All he needed to do was to take his pack with him.

Winter was approaching. Temperature had dropped considerably over the past week or so. Sex was slow and lazy last night. She seemed to enjoy the heat from his infernal heritage more than anything. She could be such a tender and loving lover when she wanted to.

She grumbled when he left the bed. He saw her rolled over to his spot to consume the rest of his warmth. That gave him a little smile.

He gave himself a quick wash. When he came out, his shirt was not where he left it. She seemed to be still sleeping, so he quietly searched in the room.

He didn’t own a lot of things and he knew where they were. The only place left was her.

Now he remembered why he didn’t like young girls when he was a young lad. They were playful and usually were so at the wrong times.

He walked to her sleeping form and patted her shoulder firmly. She merely scooted away from him. He took a long breath and calmed himself: “I know you are awake. Give it back right now. I need it.”

Tav lazily opened her eyes and yawned. She stretched and got her arm out from under the cover. There his missing shirt was.

Zevlor took another deep breath and let it out: “Give it back now. I won’t repeat myself again.”

She slowly sat up in bed and let the cover fall. His shirt was a little too big for her. The sleeves covered half of her thumbs. She did most of the buttons up, except the top two and bottom one. The curtains were closed to keep the heat in. The room was lit with candles. The small patch of skin on her chest peeking through looked as sweet as honey in the warm light.

He shook his head, voice low like a growl: “Now.”

She was not threatened by him at all. She rolled onto her fours and crawled towards the edge of the bed. She purposefully made a show of her supple rear and plumped chest. Her hands crept up the side of his waist to his neck. She was kneeling on the bed and pressing her breast against his. She cooed: “What a cruel way to wake a poor girl up in the cold, soldier.” She had her arms around his neck and one hand playing with the tip of his ear.

Zevlor felt the softness and warmth from her body, but cool on his ear. Her hands were already cool. She only got out from under the cover for a brief moment. He told himself to not warm her hands with his. He kept a stern look.

She hugged him closer in his silence. She peppered kisses along his chin and jaw. Those lips were so close to his, but all he got was some fleeting touch at the corner of his mouth. He reminded himself not to move and suck on her lips.

She was amused by his resistance. She rubbed the tip of his ear between his fingers and sent tingles down his spine. She purred: “It was an awful lot of work to put it on. All these buttons…”

He cleared his throat: “You only have yourself to blame.” That sounded nothing like the scold he was delivering. Gods above.

He patted the side of her hip and sighed: “Enough games. Give it back, now.”

All the warning she gave was a few giggles. She held onto his neck, with her knees open, and manoeuvred her own weight to pull him down to the bed. His body reacted quicker than his mind. He put one hand behind her head and the other held his weight up above her. One of his knees was placed between her open knees.

His body got too familiar with her and displayed no resistance. The only response was not to crush all his weight on her. His body had its own mind.

She was giddy, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, looking up at him. She was quite happy with her childish play. Zevlor couldn’t hold back his smile and chuckled. One of her hands let go of his neck to reach for his behind her head. She gently led his hand down the side of her neck and onto her soft mound of flesh. The effort she put into playing innocent was minimal: “If you want it back, you will have to take it off.”

Desire burned inside him. This was a lost battle and he knew it. His thumb rubbed her nipple in a way that hardened it almost immediately. He played it between his fingers the way that made her breath quickened. His stare was intense. There was no more use in pulling a face: “I need to go soon.”

She let out a little moan when he pinched her: “You got up early. There is plenty of time for you to take me for a ride, my dear ride.” She reached with her foot to tickle the base of his tail. The tail coiled around her calf needed no further encouragement.

He said nothing but stared at her with flames in his eyes.

She pulled him down for a kiss grabbing his horn: “Don't be so cold. Give me a kiss and take me for a ride.”

Zevlor, she called.

Zevlor, she called again.

He answered.

His fingers made quick work of the buttons. Her smooth skin was there for him. He bowed and brushed the fabric aside with his nose. He needed to taste her skin and hear her moan. He sucked and bit her hardened nipple until she let out the first cry of pleasure.

After he undid the last button, his fingers brushed over her slit. She was wet already. He wasted no time and unlaced his pants. Once his cock jumped out of the confinement, he crawled into the bed. He was aching for more of her.

With the last bit of patience, he rubbed the tip on her clit then ran the ridges of his cock along those puffy lips. He noticed how much she liked it the first time they fucked. She arched her back and grinded her hips on his length. Every time she drove her clit over his ridges, she made more lovely noises.

Zevlor straightened himself up one more time. He dragged her towards him by the hips. He lined himself up and plunged to the hilt. By now, he knew better than to treat her with great care and gentleness. Those could wait until next time.

Her hips bucked to meet every thrust. Her hands were busy pleasuring herself up and down. Moans and gasps streamed for her parted lips. She got wetter with each motion. The sounds they made would make a grown woman blush.

She was magnificent.

That's what he liked about her: bold and unapologetically lively. She could ignite the world with it and cast any shadows away.

She looked divine in his shirt. Some part of him wished to keep her in it. He wanted to leave his mark on her, if he couldn’t be hers. How he sat awake some nights thinking about her, he would never tell her. How his mind wandered when young children ran past him, he would never mention to anyone. To share the pleasure of the flesh with her was beyond his wildest dreams.

He kept ramming into her and making good use of his length. Her whines and cries made him want to surrender and ravish at the same time. He hissed, grunted, growled, and sighed. Her cunt was perfect for him. Her wetness and tight grip on every single ridge on his cock gave him so much joy.

He was close but she was closer. She writhed under him. The knees that hugged the sides of his waist wanted to close up on him. He grabbed the back of them and pushed down. His tail released her calf and hugged her waist instead. He leaned down to her beautifully opened front and kissed her: “You are going to be the death of me.”

The moment of bliss was near. She latched onto him when he gave her a kiss. His tail felt every ragged breath. Tears slid down her temples while she sucked his tongue. Her hand was firm on his horn and fingers dug into his muscle in a tight hug. In her waves of euphoria, she groaned and cried. More tears gushed down her temples. Her cunt clenched relentlessly to coax Zevlor to empty his balls into her. He did his best to give her a few more thrusts before cumming inside her.

They stayed still to catch their breaths. She smirked with marks of tears on her face: “Maybe a little death, yes.” He snorted and gently slapped her thigh.

He could see sunlight creeping up the ceiling from the top of the curtains. He looked at the shirt she was still wearing. It was in no state to be worn by him today. She followed his eyes and giggled: “A rag after a ride?” He laughed at her terrible line and got up to get her a rag. When he walked past her pack, she said nonchalantly: “There is a little parcel in my pack. It’s a little present for you.”

That was new, he thought. He threw her a wrung rag then opened her pack. He tried not to pry too much into it, as it’s not his place. He took a small parcel out. It was flat and soft. She urged: “Open it.”

A guess came to him. He found two shirts inside it. At a glance, they looked identical to the ones he owned. They were made in some thicker material that was both durable and comfortable. He walked over to the candle to take a better look at them. The details at the collar and sleeves matched exactly the same as his. She probably had them made for him. His old shirts were styled differently from what Baldur’s Gate had to offer.

He turned around and saw her already snuggled back under the cover. The used rag was left on the side. No sign of his shirt anywhere. He hurried to finish wiping himself down and got his pack ready.

He blew out the candles before he left. The last one was by the bed. She opened her sleepy eyes and pouted. He leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. She smiled: “See you again soon, Zevlor.”

Helm’s tears. He shouldn’t be blamed for being greedy and making terrible life choices.

------------------------------------------------------

End Notes:

Here it is! Please leave me feedback on how he was depicted in the fic. Or simply tell me what you think/feel about this version of Zevlor. I really want to know what you guys think about it. Much appreciate it. <3

Honestly, smut is too difficult for me lollllll

@ploompkin

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #zevlor #bg3 zevlor #my fic

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koalagc · 6 months ago

Text

The new batfam member

Edit I kinda went overboard and wrote a 43-page document so I'm just posting the whole document for those who want the first season of what I'm just deciding to turn into a comic

OK hear me out, since it looks like Damian is giving up the Robin mantle I’m introducing my OC as the possible new Robin, and a new member of the Batfam

CHARACTER

NAME: Orson Hillingham

BACKGROUND: Court of Owls elite trained talon taught not only martial arts but magic and engineering as well

PERSONALITY: He is a noble and behaves like it he is also a weapon (always follows orders), who has never received love

DESCRIPTION: A black-haired 10-year-old with golden eyes and a very fit composure(See Image 1)

Here is how I imagine him meeting

Scene 1: The Batcave

(Bruce is reviewing crime scene photos of the massacred gangsters. Jason enters, pulling off his helmet.)

Jason: Hey, B. I came as soon as I heard. What's this mission about again? Bruce: Gangsters are disappearing. Jason: (smirking) Ain’t that a good thing? Bruce: No. Especially if I’m right about who’s behind it.

(Bruce pulls up a screen displaying the Court of Owls insignia. Jason’s smile fades.)

Scene 2: The Iceberg Lounge

(Penguin’s henchmen are torturing a kidnapped millionaire in the center of the lounge. The sound of glass shattering above grabs their attention. Batman descends through the skylight, landing with precision as chaos erupts around him. The henchmen panic, some reaching for weapons.)

Henchman 1: (nervously) Oh no, it’s the Bat!Henchman 2: (grabbing a gun) Come on, Batsy! Let’s see what you’ve got!

(Before he can aim, a clawed gauntlet emerges from the shadows, impaling him in the chest. The figure steps into the light—a young Talon, impeccably dressed in fine attire, a mask covering his face, and a flowing cloak trailing behind him.)

Batman: Talon. Stop this. You don’t have to do this.

(Talon ignores him, moving his hands and chanting in an otherworldly language. An ethereal duplicate materializes and starts making its way toward the millionaire, killing every henchman in its path. Batman leaps into action, taking down remaining henchmen with precision strikes.)

(Red Hood crashes through a side window, landing beside Batman.)

Red Hood: (smirking) Looks like someone isn’t in the mood for small talk.

(Jason fires six rounds at Talon. Talon raises a hand, and spectral owls materialize, intercepting the bullets mid-air. Talon lunges at Batman with clawed boots, narrowly missing as Batman counters.)

(The room is now littered with unconscious or dead henchmen. Talon’s ethereal double reaches the kidnapped millionaire, ripping his heart out before dissolving into dark mist. With a flick of his wrist, Talon reabsorbs the energy.)

(Talon surveys the room, ensuring everyone is either unconscious or dead. Satisfied, he turns to Batman.)

Talon: (calmly) There. Now we can talk freely. No witnesses.

Batman: (narrowing his eyes) Talk? What are you playing at?

Talon: (slowly circling Batman) You’re predictable, Bruce. You show up, save the day, spout your moral code, and leave. That’s how you’ve always operated.

(Jason freezes mid-reload, glancing at Batman in surprise.)

Red Hood: (growling) What did you just say?

Talon: (smirking) Oh, don’t worry. The Court of Owls doesn’t know who you are, I’ve read every file. Bruce Wayne is a billionaire playboy by day and a masked vigilante by night. And your little band of misfit children? Amateurs.

(Batman’s expression hardens, but his voice remains calm.)

Batman: If you know who I am, I don’t take threats lightly.

Talon: (tilting his head) A threat? No, Bruce. This is simply a courtesy. A chance to say goodbye before the Court sends someone less... reasonable.

(Jason steps forward, gun raised.)

Red Hood: (coldly) Reasonable? You’ve got a weird definition of the word, kid.

Talon: (ignoring him) You’re an interesting man, Bruce. You claim to fight for justice, but your hypocrisy is astounding. How many lives have been ruined by breaking their will or throwing them in a wheelchair? Not to say about your murderous son standing next to you (Batman takes a step closer, his voice low and commanding.)

Batman: You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve sacrificed.

Talon: (leaning in slightly) I know enough. And I know you won’t kill me, no matter how much you want to.

(Talon suddenly moves, firing claw-tipped projectiles at Batman’s feet. He follows with a swift grapple kick, forcing Batman to jump back. Jason opens fire, but Talon summons another flock of spectral owls, deflecting the bullets. The battle resumes, with Talon using fireballs and acrobatics to keep both Batman and Red Hood at bay.)

(Eventually, a stray fireball rebounds off a mirror, detonating explosives near Talon. The blast sends him flying, knocking him unconscious. Batman catches him before he hits the ground, while Jason takes out the remaining henchmen who are regaining consciousness.)

(As the dust settles, Jason looks at the unconscious Talon.)

Red Hood: (gritting his teeth) What’s the plan, B? He knows everything.

Batman: (hoisting Talon over his shoulder) We take him back to the cave. He’s more valuable alive.

(Jason watches as Bruce carries Talon out of the wreckage, his expression conflicted.)

Scene 3: Wayne Manor – Guest Room

(Talon(still wearing the mask) wakes up in a guest room, disoriented. Batman, now unmasked as Bruce Wayne, stands at the foot of the bed.)

Bruce: You’re safe here. I know you probably don’t want to talk, but I need to know—how did you figure it out? Talon: (coldly) You’re the only person in Gotham with the money, motivation, and manpower to be Batman.

(He looks around, realizing where he is.)

Talon: Wayne Manor. Bruce: Yes. Talon: I need to return to the orphanage. They’ll worry if I don’t report back. Bruce: You’re an orphan? Talon: (matter-of-factly) Yes. And since I have no direct orders to kill you, I’ll be going now.

(Talon leaves.)

Montage: Orson’s Encounters with the Bat Family

(Talon—revealed as Orson Hillingham—carries out missions for the Court of Owls while frequently crossing paths with the Bat family. Despite their clashes, Orson watches them longingly from the shadows. His gaze lingers on their camaraderie, their family dynamic. Each member of the Bat family notices.)

Scene 4: Orphanage Visit

(Bruce, fully in his "Brucie Wayne" persona, visits the orphanage with reporters in tow.)

Reporter: Mr. Wayne, don’t you think you already have enough children? Bruce: (charming smile) Can you ever have too much family?

(Inside, Bruce meets the receptionist.)

Receptionist: Mr. Wayne, we pride ourselves on treating our children with dignity and respect. If you’re here to adopt, I suggest another institution. Bruce: (lowering his voice) I’m here for Orson Hillingham.

(Orson, overhearing this, emerges from the shadows.)

Orson: I’ll speak with him. In private.

(In a meeting room, Orson shuts down Bruce’s comms with a hidden device.)

Orson: What do you want, Mr. Wayne? Bruce: You can drop the act. We both know who we are. Orson: Fine. What do you want? Bruce: To help you. The Court isn’t a safe environment for a kid. Orson: (scoffing) And jumping off rooftops with your circus is?

(Bruce pauses, trying a different approach.)

Bruce: Why do you follow their orders? Orson: It’s all I’ve ever known, whoever owns me legally gets to give them, and that is the court, unless… you’re offering to give me orders yourself?

(Bruce doesn’t answer immediately. Orson smirks and presses the button, reactivating Bruce’s comms.)

Scene 5: Wayne Manor – Dinner

(Bruce invites Orson to dinner at the manor, where the Bat family gathers. Jason cooks, and the group shares stories. Orson remains mostly silent but observes their interactions with a mix of envy and curiosity. For the first time, he laughs softly at one of Dick’s jokes.)

Scene 6: First Mission as Duskhaunt

(Oracle’s voice comes through the Bat-family comms as the team prepares for their first mission with Orson Hillingham, codenamed "Nocturne.")

Oracle: Alright, team. Your mission is to stop the drug deal at Blüdhaven docks. Nocturne, stick to the rule—no killing.

Nocturne(wearing a stealth suit with a scarf as a mask covering the upper half of his face): (calmly) Understood.

(Orson uses his magic abilities to move himself and Nightwing to the rooftop of a warehouse overlooking the docks. Red Hood and Red Robin take up ground positions as Batman coordinates from a distance.)

Nightwing: (smirking) Fancy moves, kid. Ever thought about joining the circus?

Nocturne: (flatly) That is unlikely.

Red Hood: (over comms) Enough banter, lovebirds. Let’s focus.

(The team scopes out the operation below: armed thugs loading crates onto a ship. Batman gives the signal.)

Batman: Nightwing, Nocturne—create a diversion. Red Robin, Red Hood, and I will secure the cargo.

(Nightwing leads the charge, flipping into the fray with acrobatic flair. Orson follows, striking with surgical precision, disarming and incapacitating thugs without killing.)

Nightwing: (grinning) Not bad, Nocturne. Keep this up, and you might make me proud.

Nocturne: ..

(Things take a turn when a thug grabs Tim from behind, pressing a knife to his throat. Nightwing is momentarily distracted, and another thug lands a brutal blow, knocking him to the ground. Before Nightwing can recover, he’s pinned by two thugs, one raising a crowbar to strike.)

Thug 1: (yelling) One move, and the birdies die!

(Orson freezes, his sharp gaze darting between the thugs and his teammates in danger. Slowly, he pulls out his Talon mask, slipping it on. His demeanor shifts instantly, and he steps forward, his claw gauntlets gleaming.)

Thug 2: (nervously) What the hell is that kid doing?

Thug 1: Don’t care—kill him!

(Before they can act, Orson lunges, claw gauntlets slashing. He moves with lethal precision, incapacitating the thug holding Tim with a brutal strike to the shoulder. The thug screams as he falls, dropping the knife. Orson turns his attention to the thugs pinning Nightwing, his strikes becoming faster and more brutal.)

Nightwing: (struggling to stand) Orson! Don’t—

(Orson doesn’t stop. His movements are ruthless, and blood begins to stain his gauntlets. One thug drops to the ground, clutching his side. Orson’s focus shifts to the next target, raising his claws for a finishing blow—when Batman appears, grabbing his wrist mid-strike.)

Batman: (commanding) Orson. That’s enough.

(Orson freezes, his breathing heavy. The Talon mask hides his expression, but his hesitation is palpable. Batman’s grip tightens as he speaks, his voice low and firm.)

Batman: We don’t kill. Ever.

(Orson glances at the unconscious Nightwing and the terrified Red Robin, then at the bloodied thugs around him. Slowly, he lowers his arm and removes the Talon mask, saving it in his cloak.)

Nocturne: (quietly) They would have killed him.

Batman: (calm but stern) And you stopped them. But we do it our way.

(Red Hood approaches, smirking at the scene.)

Red Hood: (mockingly) Gotta say, kid, for a second there, I thought you were gonna join my side of the argument.

Nightwing: (weakly) You’re not... helping, Jason.

(Orson stands silently, his face unreadable. Batman steps closer, his tone softening slightly.)

Batman: (to Orson) You made the right choice stopping. This is part of being in the family—learning restraint.

(Orson nods, but his eyes remain distant. The team regroups, leaving the thugs subdued but alive as they head back to the Batcave for debriefing.)

Scene 7: Orson’s Nightmare

(Orson lies in his bed at the orphanage, his scarf covering the upper half of his face, the faint moonlight casting long shadows across the room. The sounds of the night outside are distant, and within the orphanage, the stillness is unnerving. Orson drifts into a fitful sleep, his nightmares creeping in.)

(The scene flickers, shifting between the dim, candle-lit halls of the orphanage and the darker, more oppressive chambers of the Court of Owls. The orphanage is a strange place: to the outside world, it's a haven for wealthy children, an exclusive institution that promises a future of privilege. But beneath the surface, it is a breeding ground for the Court’s future Talons. The walls are adorned with symbols of the Court, and the children are raised not just to learn but to serve a darker purpose.)

(Young Orson, barely 5 years old, walks the shadowed hallways of the orphanage. His steps are quiet, almost imperceptible. The other children here are older, and their eyes gleam with the cold, calculating look of those being groomed for something far more sinister. They are being trained to follow the Court’s commands—some, like Orson, will be Talons, but not all of them have been marked for the lethal training.)

Court of Owls (echoing from the darkness, whispering): You are ours, Talon. The orphanage is yours—our children, our legacy. You will be the weapon we need. Obey, and you will become more than just a shadow. You will be the darkness itself.

(Orson’s eyes are wide with the weight of the Court’s words, but he is too young to understand the full extent of their plans. He sees the older children—rich, and entitled, but with a coldness that betrays their age. They are already learning combat, strategy, and espionage. They don’t learn magic as he does—no, they are being prepared for brutal roles, but they don’t have his talent. Their eyes are empty, their hearts trained to obey.)

(Orson walks through the corridors of the orphanage and enters the training room. Here, children are sparring, testing their limits, each one growing stronger in their silent obedience to the Court’s will. Among them is a young boy, 10 years older than Orson, but his movements are sharp, his body precise. Orson knows his face—the boy is one of the Court’s chosen, a future Talon in training. But there’s something cold in his eyes, a reminder of what Orson’s future will be if he’s not careful.)

(In the corner of the room, the Court’s voice whispers again, this time more urgent.)

Court of Owls (voice growing more insistent): You belong to us, Talon. Do not defy us. You will not be allowed to leave. The orphanage will burn with all inside it if you fail. There is no escape. Only obedience.

(Suddenly, the scene shifts. Orson is standing on the balcony of the orphanage, looking down at a flaming inferno consuming the building. The fire dances in the night, casting long, menacing shadows on the walls. Screams fill the air as the children trapped inside cry out for help, but the doors are locked, the windows sealed shut. There’s no way out. Orson stands frozen as the Court’s laughter words in his ears.)

Court of Owls (mocking): This is your future if you defy us, Talon. Everything you hold dear will be taken. The fire will reach everyone you care about. The orphanage, your only family, will burn. You have no choice. You will obey.

(The flames rise higher, scorching the sky. Orson feels the heat of the fire, but he can’t move, can’t act. The Court’s words are like chains holding him in place.)

(The scene flashes back to the training room, where the older children are still sparring. The instructors, faceless and unyielding, watch over them. They don’t see the destruction outside. Orson turns to see one of the older boys—another Talon, a few years older than him—staring at him with an unsettling calm. His eyes are empty, distant, but there’s something in the boy’s gaze that hints at the darkness consuming them all.)

Older Talon (calm, emotionless): You’ll be one of us soon. It’s not that bad. They’ve trained us to kill, to obey. The Court will give us everything we need. You won’t have to worry about the fire if you just do as they say.

(But Orson can’t shake the feeling that he’s already lost something—his childhood, his innocence. The Court has taken it all, shaping him into something else.)

Constantine, who was his magic teacher (his voice rings out, distant but clear): (yelling from the past) This is what they’ll do to you, kid! They’ll use you up until there’s nothing left, and when they’re done, they’ll throw you away! Don’t let them win.

(The flames flare higher, and Orson watches as the orphanage crumbles under the weight of the Court’s control. The other children are oblivious to the fire, lost in their training, and trapped by the same fate. Orson can’t escape. There’s nowhere to run. He’s a prisoner in the very place that’s supposed to protect him.)

(Orson wakes with a start, gasping for air, drenched in sweat. His small hands shake as he pulls the scarf tighter around his face. The nightmare lingers in his mind, the echo of the Court’s control wrapping tighter around him. He looks around the room, the quiet of the orphanage now feeling like a prison.)

Orson (whispering to himself, shaking his head): I can’t... I won’t let them win. I won’t be their weapon. I’ll find a way out.

(But as he lies back, the shadows of the room seem to move, the Court’s presence always watching, always waiting.)

Scene 8: A Month Later - The Adoption

(A month has passed since Orson's unsettling nightmares and the encounters with Bruce. The orphanage has grown quieter, and Orson, once distant and cold, has gradually adjusted to his new life under Bruce's care—though the weight of the Court's control still haunts him. His movements are now more relaxed, but his eyes are sharper, constantly scanning his surroundings for threats.)

(Inside Wayne Manor, Orson stands near the grand fireplace in the study, his small figure silhouetted against the roaring fire. Bruce is seated at his desk, flipping through papers, a brief pause in his work. The sounds of the mansion are quiet, but a sense of tension hangs in the air—Orson is about to speak of the burden he's been carrying, one he can no longer ignore.)

Orson (quietly, his voice steady but heavy):Bruce... I need to tell you something.

(Bruce looks up from his papers, sensing the weight of the moment. Orson stands in front of him, his posture slightly stiff, but there's an underlying urgency in his expression—something more than just a child’s typical fear.)

Bruce (setting down the papers, his gaze soft but intent):What’s wrong, Orson?

Orson (hesitating for a moment, then speaking with quiet conviction):The Court of Owls... they're not finished with me. And now that I’m not tied to the orphanage anymore... I’m worried they might come for you.

(Bruce remains silent, watching Orson closely, sensing that this is the kind of conversation that doesn’t come easily to the boy. Orson’s golden eyes flicker with a certain fear, but also with defiance—a fire burning deep within that refuses to be extinguished.)

Orson (continuing, his tone more serious):They control the orphanage now. All the children there... they’re part of the Court. I’m not the only one they’ve trained. They’ve used the orphanage to make sure that no one can escape them. If you think the others are safe, you’re wrong. They're part of it. They won’t die, not unless they betray the Court... and I know they won’t.

(His gaze darkens, a shadow of guilt flickering through his eyes. He’s not connected to the orphanage anymore, but part of him can’t shake the feeling that he should have done more to protect the others.)

Bruce (softly, but with authority):So, you're telling me that the Court is still a threat, even now that you're here?

(Orson nods solemnly. He steps closer, his gaze unwavering as he looks up at Bruce, as though trying to gauge how much Bruce truly understands the gravity of his situation.)

Orson (voice tightening with concern):They’ve already marked me. I can’t go back. If I step out of line, if I even think about going back there... they’ll burn everything down again. They won’t hesitate. But... (pauses, his voice lowering) you’re now a target. They will come for you. They’re watching. They're always watching. Even if I’m no longer with them, they’ll make sure you’re... collateral damage.

(Bruce listens carefully, his expression steady but hardening as he absorbs the threat. The room feels colder, the weight of Orson’s words sinking in. Orson isn’t just a scared, trained killer anymore. He’s someone who understands the stakes—someone who’s lived in the shadows of the Court, seeing firsthand the depth of their cruelty.)

Bruce (leaning forward slightly, his voice low and calm):Orson, you don’t need to worry about me. The Court can’t touch me if they don’t know where to find me. I’ve dealt with them before.

(Orson shakes his head, his small fists clenched tightly by his sides. The anger that burns inside him is palpable.)

Orson (forcefully, though his voice remains measured):You don't understand! They will make it personal. I’m not a pawn anymore, I’m a loose thread. If they think I’m a risk—if they think you’re a risk—they won’t hesitate to destroy you, and they'll make sure I’m the one to do it. They won’t stop until everyone who stands in their way is gone.

(Orson takes a breath, visibly calming himself. The urgency of the warning hasn’t left his tone, but there’s a deeper sadness in his eyes now, as though he’s resigned to the burden of what he’s about to say.)

Orson (quietly):You’re not just in danger because of me, Bruce. You’re in danger because of who you are. The Court sees you as a threat. They’ve been watching you for years.

(Bruce stands, walking slowly over to Orson, his eyes softening as he looks down at the boy. Orson, despite his words, still carries the weight of being part of a family that was never his. His posture is tense, but he’s standing in front of Bruce as if pleading for understanding.)

Bruce (gently):Orson, I’ve known the Court of Owls for a long time. They don’t control me. I control my own destiny. And now, you do too. The past doesn’t define you, and neither will the Court.

(Orson looks up at Bruce, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and relief. He wants to believe him—wants to believe that his new life here with Bruce can shield him from the darkness of his past.)

Orson (softly, a quiet fear still lingering in his voice):But they will keep coming, won’t they? It doesn’t matter how far I run, they’ll always know where I am. They won’t stop until I’ve... until I’ve killed everyone they’ve marked.

(Bruce crouches down, placing a hand on Orson’s shoulder, a rare moment of warmth between them. His voice is firm, unyielding, but it holds a promise,a promise that Orson will never have to face this darkness alone.)

Bruce (with quiet determination):No, Orson. They won’t stop until we make them. And I’m not letting you face this alone. Not now. Not ever.

(For a brief moment, Orson’s tense shoulders loosen, the unspoken fear lifting just enough to let him believe, believe that maybe, for once, he has someone who will protect him, someone who will stand by him no matter what.)

#batman #robin #dc comics #dc universe

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phantomdoofer · 10 months ago

Text

Tower Town, Chapter 22 - The Final Slice

Part 4

Peppino paced as they waited. His and Giuseppe's groups had returned, but the Bosses were still missing. He fingered the earbud Paolo had made for them. “Come on, give-a us something…”

Then Paolo's voice echoed in their ears. “Noisette just made contact with me. They got caught downstairs. Apparently they found the Pizzamancer's monster production. They took it down.”

They looked at each other. Peppino grinned. “Well, that's a mercy.”

“Yep! I'm gonna teleport them there. Stand back.”

They all moved to the sides of the room just in time - the group popped into place.

“-get the ability t’... teleport us…” Noise trailed off - he'd obviously been mid-sentence when he'd been moved. Noise whipped around, staring at the ceiling. “A little warnin’ woulda been nice!” Noise looked around. “All right, gang’s all here, I see.”

“Sì,” Peppino said. “We don't have much time, I think. Let's compare notes.”

As they exchanged their experiences, Giuseppe handed out the earbuds to the Bosses. As the conversation trailed off, Paolo chimed in. “All right, guys, I got some good news and bad news. Good news: I found you a path up to ol’ PM’s throne room.”

“‘Throne Room?’” Pepperman said. “How absolutely pretentious.”

“That's rich, coming from you,” Noise sneered.

“Ahem,” Paolo interrupted. “Sorry, but Peppino's right - we're short on time. Bad news, it's a bit of a gauntlet to get there. And I'm pretty sure PM know she has intruders now.”

Everyone nodded. “So why hasn't he just turned the Tower against us?” Brando mused.

“Remember what I was like as Pizzahead? And what Aldo said?” Paolo said. “He's arrogant and sadistic. He likes messing with people. I'd be willing to bet he set this path up specifically.” A pause. “I'm pretty sure he doesn't actually know who's in the Tower.”

The group all exchanged glances. “All right,” Peppino said, “so we move. Now. Where's this path?”

In answer, the wall behind them opened up, and the whole group jumped away. “He thinks he's funny, putting it here,” Paolo said. “This is an elevator up to the entrance to the path. I'll guide you as much as I can - I'm trying to not make myself too obvious, so I can't make actual changes to the system. It'll be up to you. Keep those devices the gnome gave you handy, just in case PM decides to show up early.”

Peppino cracked his knuckles as he psyched himself up. All right. One last push. He looked around. “Everyone ready?”

Everyone nodded.

“All right,” Paolo said. “Get on and I'll make sure you get up there. Good luck!”

The group filed into the elevator, and the doors made a happy ding as they closed.

~~~~

The doors dinged, opened… and all hell broke loose.

Beams and bullets shot through the air as they stepped out, and everyone went evasive.

“Jeez!” Giuseppe yelled as he dodged. “Like being back in Inferno in here!”

“Truer than you know, Sepp!” Anita said. “Look around!”

Indeed, the floor ahead of them was filled with boiling sauce.

Peppino groaned. I still have a scar from that shit! “Be careful! That stuff is hot as-a lava! It's deadly!”

Vigilante was dodging frantically, but he was scoping the place the whole time. “I see the door! But there's no bridge!”

Pepperman bounced off a wall, destroying a turret. “I see a platform, out amongst the sauce! But… it's too far for me to reach!”

“I can do it!” Brando said, knocking away bullets and beams as he spoke. “It won't hurt me!”

Peppino looked a thing. “Are you certain, ragazzo??”

“Positive!”

Peppino nodded grimly. “Do it!”

Suddenly Pepperman grabbed the young chef. “No need to run the whole way! Alley-oop!” He launched Brando towards the platform. Brando flailed a bit as he arced through the air, landing with a strange plorch.

Despite his frantic dodging, Peppino's heart froze. Let him be OK…

Then Brando's head surfaced. He waved. “I'm OK!” He swam over to the platform, climbed out… and realized he was naked. The man blushed furiously…

“Kid!” Giuseppe yelled. “Modesty later! Survival now!”

Brando blinked, nodded, and stomped on the large button on the platform.

A path rose through the sauce, leading to a walkway above.

Brando swam towards the path. Gus and Brick quickly rolled forward, while Peppino, Giuseppe, Pepperman, and Noise grabbed everyone else and sped across.

As Brando surfaced, he blushed. “Anyone have some pants?”

A pair of pants and a shirt materialized in front of him. Here!” Paolo's voice. “These are fireproofed! Hurry!”

Brando quickly put them on. While farther away, the bullets and beams were still aiming for them, and they were on a narrower platform. “Velocemente, ragazzo!” Peppino said.

Finishing, the group rushed to a door, which led to a stairway. They rushed up…

The next floor was oddly mechanical.

Peppino groaned. “Oh no, not the Factory…”

Suddenly a series of cartoonish hands grabbed them all. Several yelped as they were hauled across a wide gap… filled with mechanical versions of the monsters they'd seen for weeks. “I can get you past these, at least!” Paolo’s voice again.

“Thanks!” Peppino said.

As they landed, the floors and ceiling began slamming together. “Crushers!” Fake said. “They arrre too fast! We won't make it through! How-?”

Peppino looked up… and saw something familiar hovering overhead. “Stand under that!” He demonstrated - he stood under it, it flashed downward-

Peppino transformed into a pizza box.

Peppino slid under the crushers… but they didn't extend the whole way, and he fit perfectly. “Come-a on,” He said said in a distorted voice, “it-a feels weird, but it doesn't hurt! Hurry!”

Everyone quickly stood to let themselves be pizzafied… and slid forward. Peppino had been scouting ahead. “Be careful when it changes from floor to ceiling! You can still be crushed!”

Slipping through the cracks, they exited on the other side. “Er, how do we get back to our real forms?” Pepperman asked.

Peppino looked around. “Well, there was a… a priest of some sort before, who changed me back…”

The others looked at him incredulously. Peppino blushed. “Don't-a ask me how it-a worked, it just-a did!”

Noisette wobbled over to an alcove in the wall, with a picture of a person beside it. She stepped in…

“Hon, wait, you don't-!” Noise started.

Suddenly Noisette was her usual self. “Come on, it's fine! Kind of tickles!”

They took turns quickly unboxing themselves, then ran forward… into a wall of mechanical Bosses. Metal Peppermen, Vigilantes, Noises, and Fakes made the hallway incredibly hazardous.

They hung behind a wall. “So, whadda we do here?” Noise growled. “Don't think we can fight ‘em all.”

Peppino snorted. “If they're like the Peppibots before, they hit hard, but they're pretty fragile. One good hit and they're scrap.” He looked at Giuseppe, Brick, and Pepperman. “We charge them, with-a everyone else following behind.”

Pepperman flexed, and Brick squeaked unusually maliciously. “I think we can handle that.” The Verduran said.

Peppino looked at the others. “Noise, you carry Noisette. Vigi, you're on Pepperman. Anita, you're with Seppe. Gus… I don't-a have to tell you. Brando, you'll be with me. Everyone ready?”

They nodded.

“Noise, be fast. These things will get back up quick if they don't break.”

“I gotcha, fat boy,” Noise said, grinning.

“All-a right.” Brando wrapped his arms around Peppino's neck. Everyone assumed their positions. “All right!” Peppino leapt out, and all the bots turned towards him. “Charge!”

The four blazed forward, bowling robots out of the way. The sound of metal snapping was deafening. Behind, Noise’s rocket roared as he followed behind. “Damn, what are these things made of, tin? They're foldin’ like paper!”

“Don't-a let them touch you, though!” Peppino called behind him. “They hit like a truck!”

Charging through a doorway, they entered a massive vertical hallway. “Mio Dio, is the whole interior hollow??” Peppino wondered.

Giuseppe, Anita, and Vigi turned, firing back into the doorway - the bots were trying to get through to them. “We gotta find a way up, fast!” Giuseppe said, gritting his teeth.

Peppino looked around. Pretty sure I can climb that, and maybe Vigi, but what about everyone else? Then he saw a row of strange green contraptions… and smiled. “Quick! These things will put you in a bubble! We can get up that way!”

“Er, Peppino?” Noisette said tentatively. “There's some things up there, flying around…”

Looking up and squinting, Peppino expected the small olive aliens from before… but instead, a host of nightmares flew above. They look like melting, yellow zombie dragons! His heart quailed at the sight. As he watched, one spouted a column of flame.

About that time, Paolo’s voice came through. “They're fordraggi! Cheese dragons! I had one as Pizzahead, but these are much nastier! They can pop those bubbles… and do far worse!”

“So, what-a do we do?” Peppino said.

“I'll distract them!” Paolo said. “It'll give away how much control I have, but… just hurry!”

A series of hatches opened all along the way, and beams started shooting at the fordraggi. They turned, roaring, and attacked the guns…

“Go go go!” Paolo said. “Hurry!”

Peppino called to the door guards. “Into the bubbles! Now!”

The three turned, nodded, and charged at the bubble generators. The robots clamored through… but the whole group was already on the way up.

“Lean side to side!” Peppino yelled, trying not to throw up as he spun. “You can - urp! - maneuver around!”

The group wobbled and weaved through the distracted dragons, barely maintaining control. Several yelled as dragons took swipes at them with claws, tails, and fire.

Finally, they reached the top. The bubbles popped with an almost comical noise, and the group flopped to the ground.

“Owww,” Noisette said - she'd landed on her head.

An outraged roar echoed from below.

Everyone turned pale. “Into the next room! Now!” Paolo yelled through the comms.

They sped into the next room… and found just a staircase. It was smooth and metallic looking, but…

Pepperman bent and examined it. “It’s… some form of ceramic? What is this?”

“Not sure,” Paolo said. “I'm examining it…” A long pause. “Pepperman's right, it's some sort of hybrid. Every time I try to examine it, I get locked out. Damn. Wish the old gnome was here. He could probably tell us. Best I can say is it's not trapped or anything.”

Then the lights came on.

“Oh, he definitely knows we're here,” Anita said.

“All right then. This is-a it. Everyone ready?” Peppino said.

They all nodded.

Then let's-a do it.”

As a group, they ascended the ornate staircase. At the top was a set of grand doors in the same material.

Peppino stood by one door, Giuseppe the other, they nodded, and pushed as one…

Without a whisper of sound, the doors slid inward.

The room beyond was a bizarre mixture of medieval style and advanced technology. In the center was a huge, ornate throne, almost grotesque in how decorated it was.

On it sat the Pizzamancer.

He lounged, leaned to the side, one leg draped over an arm. The Ninda was grinning hugely.

“Well, well, it's about time you got here. I was beginning to get bored.”

~~~~

Paolo heard the voice through the system, and felt his sauce run cold. He instantly filled with a mixture of fear and rage. You arrogant… he stopped, because he found he couldn't think of any words that would accurately describe how he felt.

Suddenly his connection was severed. All the screens around him blinked out, and the console froze. The room hummed as the entire thing powered down.

He couldn't lock me out, so he just cut the power. He looked around, for all the good it did in the stygian darkness. I'm defenseless. At least the doors are closed…

Then he felt a blast of cooler air brush across his face, and his heart skipped a beat. The doors are open!

He quietly stood, using what little knowledge of moving quietly he'd picked up to ease over to where he knew the door was, pressing up against the wall beside it. He peeped out…

A few bots rolled around, looking.

Looking for me.

Suddenly he felt a surge of energy as something grabbed hold of him, pulling him away, apart…

bwip

~~~~

The Pizzamancer gestured, and suddenly the entire group was surrounded by white flames, hovering in the air. Peppino found he couldn't move. He opened his mouth… and nothing came out.

The Pizzamancer stood, grinning maliciously. “Oh, come on, you had to know I knew you were here. I invited you. I've been watching you, the entire time.” He looked up. “Speaking of watching… my lovely little grandson is being so shy!” He looked up. “System, command: cut power to the auxiliary control room. Open the doors.” He turned back. “That ought to flush him out of his little hole. Clever of him, to hide it from scans.” He chuckled. “But not clever enough.”

Peppino felt his heart skip. They had been counting on Paolo having access to the Tower systems.

The Pizzamancer walked up to Peppino, and the flames swirled a little closer. He knew that he was millimeters from a painful, fiery death. “Before you start spouting speeches about destiny and so on… I wanted you here. So you, the descendants of the ones who killed me, and their friends, could watch as I destroy the world. You see, I've been working on a little… project. Something that will do what my previous plague didn't.”

Peppino fought to keep his face from showing his surprise. He doesn't know Paolo destroyed the plague! He's not as omniscient as he thinks he is! If we can get out of these bindings…

The Pizzamancer stepped back. “Tower, command: teleport my grandson here.”

In a greenish flash, the Ninda appeared in between them. He spun, seeing the others wrapped in flame. The horror on his face is still so strange-looking on him, Peppino thought.

Paolo spun back, facing his ancestor. “Dammit! Why can't you just leave us alone? Your time's over! Just let us live our lives!”

As the Pizzamancer started up a monologue, rattling on about destiny and his right to rule, Peppino saw Paolo's hand wave from behind his back… and the pen-like device they'd been given was between his fingers. He's stalling for time! But for what?

~~~~

A few minutes before…

Paolo sat back, waiting for word that he was needed. Been awful quiet…

LISTEN TO ME

Paolo jumped - the sound seemed to be coming directly into his brain. “Who is it?”

We are the Tower

Paolo shivered. He knew now what had been done - Peppino had told him. “I'm-I'm-I’m s-sorry,” he quavered.

You too are a victim

No blame is yours to take

When the time comes we will resist

But our resistance will be short and final

Our last act of defiance before the death of our minds

Speak the phrase “Litha, rise up” and we will freeze all Tower functions for a time

The voice faded.

Use it wisely…

What was that about? Paolo wondered.

~~~~

Now Paolo knew, and he fought not to smile. You cunning old rocks knew, didn't you?

Finally, the Pizzamancer wound down. “So, how about it? You stand beside me, and I'll let you have whatever you want in the new world. Just tell me to kill them, and it's yours.” He grinned, and gestured. The group floated between them. “Well?”

Paolo thumbed the pen. It's time. He held the pen in front of him like a detonator. “No, I don't think so.” He clicked the button…

A wave of power shot out, and suddenly the flame cages disappeared, dropping them to the ground.

The Pizzamancer staggered, falling to one knee. “What… WHAT HAVE YOU DONE??”

“Taken what you've stolen, ‘dear’ grandpa,” Paolo said.

The Pizzamancer stood. “Damned fools… Tower-”

Paolo shouted. “LITHA, RISE UP!”

The Pizzamancer pointed. “Destroy them!”

Nothing happened. The speakers spouted gibberish, then a phrase came through clearly:

“Children, now is your time.”

The group all looked at each other, then at the Pizzamancer.

Peppino stood. “Get him!”

Almost as one, they charged or leapt at him.

The Pizzamancer flew up. “Tch! You think you have me?”

Noisette used her hammer to slam him back to the ground. “Yer not gonna destroy the world, ya ugly bastard! Not again!”

The Pizzamancer gasped as he landed… and was met by a barrage of bombs from a grinning Noise. “Got some specials saved just fer you, asshole!”

The Pizzamancer stood, swinging his arm - Noise went flying, but Fake quickly fielded the gremlin. “Gah! Back, you - you peons!” He struck the ground, and the shaking knocked everyone off their feet.

A series of bullets hit the Pizzamancer in the eyes - Vigi was hanging on the wall, with Anita clinging to him. The two were firing rapidly. “You can't take on all of us! Don't matter how many powers you have!” Anita yelled. “You're going down, shithead!”

The Pizzamancer reeled, blinded - but then grinned maliciously, opened his mouth, and emitted a terrible shrieking noise.

Peppino, Giuseppe, and Pepperman, who had been preparing to charge him, stopped to cover their ears. Mio Dio, I think my eardrums just burst! Peppino thought - indeed, one of his hands had blood on it when he pulled it away. He looked up…

The Pizzamancer's eyes were writhing grotesquely, reforming. His grin was absolutely vile. He held out a hand, firing a massive beam towards the three…

Brando leapt in front of them, his arms crossed, and the beam shrieked as it bounced off. Smaller beams bounced off the walls, setting small fires and breaking off shards of stone.

The entire tower rumbled.

“Non oggi, stronzo!” Brando yelled.

The Pizzamancer's face screwed up in unholy fury. “Damn it! I thought that power died with the fat one!”

Brando grinned roguishly. “I'm his descendant, stronzo!” As the beam stopped, the young man laughed heartily. “And I'm here to finish what he started.”

Brick rolled forward, Gustavo on top, barging into the Pizzamancer. As the foul pizzaman moved to block the rat, Gus leapt off, coming down with both fists, his gnomish strength and weight stunning his target. “Fake, now!” He yelled over his shoulder.

Fake leapt over Brando's head, mouth wide, tongue lolling, their hands morphed into claws, and they swiped as they fell. The Pizzamancer's face split open - he screamed in pain, flying back into the air to give himself space.

In response, the clone leapt, their legs elongating with the force of the leap, and they pinned the Ninda to the ceiling with a tremendous crack. Huge chunks of the ceiling fell, and the fighters on the ground dodged frantically.

Grabbing the Pizzamancer, Fake flung the Pizzamancer to the ground, then launched themselves downward, expanding into the larger combat form as they fell. The Pizzamancer cried out as the massive form landed on him.

“Your reign of terror is over!” Fake roared. “You will harm no one else!”

Suddenly a wave of pure power washed out from the Pizzamancer, and Fake went flying. “Off, you useless gob of dough!”

As he stood, the Spaghetti brothers and Pepperman all hit him at once, sending him flying into his throne. “Ugh!” He had just enough time to cry out as another series of bombs impacted, the concussions of their explosions shaking the room and causing even more stone to fall. Another barrage of bullets followed, arcing and bouncing - Vigi and Anita were bouncing shots off the walls, doing their damnedest to keep the evil Ninda from predicting them.

Everyone paused - the Pizzamancer was surrounded in a cloud of smoke and dust. Unexpectedly, a barrage of small energy beams flew out of the cloud… and arced, firing towards the group.

“Homing lasers!” Peppino yelled. Everyone began dodging frantically - Brando stood his ground, deflecting lasers as Noise and Noisette huddled near him. Pepperman took several hits - he was too large and bulky to dodge easily. Vigi, in a surprising display of agility, hopped and spun, still firing into the cloud. Beside him, Anita was too busy dodging to fire.

Fake twisted and distorted, flexing their fluid body to dodge the blasts. They were stuck in place.

Meanwhile Peppino and Giuseppe were doing a sort of dance, frantically doing their best to keep from being killed. We can't keep this up forever! Peppino thought.

“Cut it out, ya damn pizza!” Peppino heard Noise yell. He reached into his bag… and pulled out a truly monstrous bomb.

Peppino didn't have time to stare.

Noise cackled madly. “Didn't want t’ use this, but guess now's the time!” He hoisted it over his head. “Here ya, go, asshole! The Super Noise Special!”

He flung the gigantic bomb.

“EVERYBODY DOWN!” Noisette yelled as it arced through the air. Several beams tried to intercept it, but they simply bounced off.

Peppino fell backwards as the bomb seemed to arc over his head in slow motion…

Peppino felt the explosion more than heard it. He found himself tumbling through the air, unable to control himself…

He slammed, prone, against the back wall, sliding down to the floor. His ear rang with the force of the sound. The dust was incredible. He coughed. “Qual- *cough cough* qualcuno lì? Is anyone alive?”

A chorus of pained affirmations drifted through the cloud. “Damn, Noisey, warn a gal before ya pull that thing out, would ya?”

Peppino heard Noise chuckle. “That's *cough cough* that's what she-”

“Hate to disappoint you, but I'm fine as well,” the Pizzamancer's voice called through the dust.

A strong burst of wind blew them all back against the wall, and the dust spiraled around the room. The Pizzamancer stood, bruised and bleeding, but alive. He chuckled. “Almost, but not quite, rats.” He rolled his shoulder nonchalantly, then put his hand forward, making a “bring it” gesture.

Peppino felt his blood pressure spike. He kicked off the wall, screaming imprecations. The entire group did the same…

The Pizzamancer casually snapped his fingers. The air seemed to waver… No, the world itself is wobbling!

All of them were caught in midair, moving so slowly as to be motionless.

The Pizzamancer laughed. “Thought you had me, eh?” He stepped forward, towards Peppino, who was hanging in the air, fist cocked, his mouth open. “I have to admit, you had me a little worried. I don't usually use this one - it burns so much energy. But this way, I can just pick you off one… by…” He looked around.

“Wait. Where's the rat?”

Suddenly he was bowled over by a six-footer ball of enraged fur. Brick shrieked as she assaulted the Pizzamancer, tearing at his face with teeth and paws.

The attack broke his concentration.

Peppino felt himself speeding back up. He flexed, concentrating all his strength into the swing of his fist…

Brick went flying, blown away by the wind. “Get off me, you- oh, no-”

Peppino, Giuseppe, Pepperman, and Gustavo's fists, along with Noisette's hammer, all landed at the same time, normally impossible, but the warping of the local space meant several things happened at once, sending the Pizzamancer flying. In midair, a volley of bombs and bullets perforated the Ninda, sending sauce flying everywhere.

The Pizzamancer landed, reeling. “Gah!!”

Peppino stood up. “It's-a over, Pizzamancer.”

Suddenly spikes sprouted all over the Pizzamancer's body, and Peppino felt the world turn to molasses again for a second - just long enough to keep them from evading…

Giuseppe barely managed to yell “LOOK OUT!” before spikes flew everywhere.

Peppino winced as he felt several pierce his body. One lanced dangerously close to his heart. “GHUH!” The noise burst from his mouth as his eyes popped open, blood spurting from his mouth. He collapsed to his knees. He looked down - a noxious yellow spike was lodged just below his breastbone.

He stared at it, unable to feel it. Shock, he thought quietly. He glanced to his right…

Noise and Noisette had been pierced through. Noise had tried to shield her, but the spikes had pierced through them both. Beside them, Fake stood, arms crossed, trembling, their body full of spikes, standing in front of Brando, who looked shaken but unharmed.

Peppino gasped, and looked to his left…

Pepperman staggered, bristling but still standing. Brick was staggering, covered in spikes, but her fur seemed to have stopped the spikes from being lethal.

Anita was down, her entire body pierced through much like his own. In her case, however, she didn't have Peppino's bulk to soften the blow - much like the Noises, she had been completely run through. She was struggling to stand, but Peppino could tell it was fatal. He heard a whispered “d…dammit…” before she flopped back down.

Vigilante had managed to avoid most of the barrage, and was roaring with… grief?... and shooting wildly at the Pizzamancer. Why is he… so…

Peppino's vision cleared enough to see -

Beside him lay Giuseppe, a huge spike driven into the center of his chest. Gustavo struggled under his body; he'd obviously stepped in front of the gnome, trying to protect him.

The light was already fading from his brother's eyes.

“Seppe…” Peppino whispered.

He coughed and retched, covering the front of his shirt with blood. He staggered, but didn't fall.

He glared at the Pizzamancer with undisguised hatred. His brother's voice seemed to echo in his soul.

Push past the pain, the grief.

Vigi stopped as he saw Peppino take a step forward.

Ignore it. Keep your eyes on your objective.

The Pizzamancer had been ranting, but he ground to a stop as he saw Peppino step forward.

Peppino ground his teeth.

Break them.

“You should be dead. Why aren't you dead??” The Pizzamancer launched another barrage at Peppino.

His arms moving so fast the air shrieked as he moved, Peppino batted them aside.

Vigi stared as he tried to comprehend what happened next. One moment Peppino had been standing, reeling…

Then there was some sort of explosion…

~~~~

Peppino looked at his hands. As he moved them, he heard a faint scree as the air protested the motion.

He looked around. The world seemed to have stopped. No, it's still moving… slowly. The Pizzamancer was slowly, glacially, raising an arm, meaning to launch some horrible attack to end them all.

He glanced down at his brother's dead body on his left, his old friend laying underneath his corpse.

He glanced over at the pair of small bodies on his right.

He watched Fake stroking Brando's face.

Peppino fingered the spike in his chest.

He knew he had only seconds to live.

He clenched his fist. For Giuseppe. For Noise and Noisette. For Anita and all those people you murdered, so long ago. For the centuries of suffering you created.

He charged.

He struck, again and again, the Pizzamancer's body bursting in slow motion, each impact striking with the force of a grenade. He struck in silence, his mind full of only one thought.

Destroy the Pizzamancer.

~~~~

Brando picked up Fake as the tall being collapsed. “You… you shielded me. Why?”

Fake reached up and stroked the boy's face. “We had… to protect… our son.”

“Your… son?”

Before Brando could respond, a terrifying shriek tore the air as Peppino disappeared…

And the Pizzamancer exploded.

As the mist cleared, Brando saw Peppino standing over what remained of the malicious Ninda, panting.

Then he seemed to simply stop, and he fell over.

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blackdragonmedicdean · 18 days ago

Text

Finally finished the Astarte Subject!Dean side story (again, sorry if anyone is ooc)

Dean hugged his stuffed toy tightly to his chest as he walked through the battle barge heading to the loading bay. He picked up speed a bit when he heard the sound of one of the Thunderhawks landing, making him see it land with its hull banged up a bit, but no worse for wear. Slowing down and coming to a stop, he watched it, waiting for the back to open up and see who came out, hoping it was who he thought it would be. The boy watched as people dressed in familiar blue armor came filing out one by one. Finally, he saw them coming down the ramp, talking to each other, smiling and laughing as one told a joke. Seeing them caused the boy to smile widely and let out a squeal of delight, yelling “b-bubbies!!” to them. Running up, he nearly tripped but caught himself as he ran into the closest person and hugged their leg tightly with a giggle. One of them, Chairon, laughed heartily and scooped him up into his arms. “Dean, how have you been? Were you good while we were gone?” he asked him. Dean gave a vigorous nod, “y-yes, I was v-very good, I listened to b-big brother C-Chaplin and other big brothers and…and I t-took my medicine like I was s-supposed to,” he tells them. He watched as the three shared a look for a moment, then back to him, causing the boy to frown. “I-I’m telling the t-truth…” he says to them softly, looking down sadly. Before he heard Gadriel speak up, “We know just wanted to distract you so I could do this!” he said before taking the boy from Chairon and throwing him up into the air, catching him. Dean gives a shriek of delight as the other does this, the toy dropping to the ground, to which Titus promptly picks it up. The other did this a few more times, a few of their fellow brothers watching from the side, pointing and laughing at it all. After a few more tosses into the air, Gadriel held Dean as Titus handed the boy his stuffed bunny, who promptly took it and hugged it close to his chest. “Thank you, b-big brother,” he said to him. Titus smiled and ruffled his hair with a gauntleted hand gently. “You're welcome,” he said to the boy before he looked at the other two. “We should get cleaned up and go have something to eat,” he told them. Gadriel gave a nod and put Dean down once more. “We’ll meet you in the mess area, okay, same spot as always,” he tells him. Giving a nod, Dean ran off the soft pitter-patter of small feet, slowly fading away.

Later, after they had finished washing up, the three had gotten their food and sat down where Dean was waiting for them with his own food done in smaller portions so he could eat. Titus and the others listened as Dean talked about his day while he had waited for them to come back from that day’s mission. Once they all finished eating, they cleaned up while Dean went to change, then go play for a bit until it was time for him to go to bed. But when the time came, he couldn’t be found panicking for a moment, Titus and the other two started to slowly panic as they looked frantically all over. Even stopping to ask a few other astartes, serf, and mechanicus if they saw Dean, but no one had, that was until they ran past where their now entombed brothers were kept. Listening for a second, they heard a soft voice coming from within, and looking at each other, they made their way to it, coming to a stop at the site. On the floor sat the young boy, book open in his lap, doing his best to read it out loud to the sleeping dreadnoughts, despite everything, he did his best, only stopping to slowly read the word to himself before reading out loud after he figured it out. Moving to him quickly, Chairon spoke up, “There you are, little one, don’t wander off like that, nearly gave us three a heart attack,” he tells him as he knelt down beside him while Titus and Gadriel stood behind him. Looking up at them with wide apologetic eyes, Dean spoke softly, “s-sorry, bubbies, I w-wanted to read t-to them so they w-won’t get nightmares,” he tells them before going on “t-they have b-bad dreams, so I-I thought if I r-read like you do for me, t-then they won’t anymore,” he adds. Chairon shared a look with the other two, it was no hidden fact that Dean was a psyker like brother Tigurius. The extent to which he did was unknown, only that he could sense people’s emotions strongly than others, something that could cause him a great deal of stress. Once he had to go see the apothecaries after one particular serious case when they, along with other battle brothers, came back. It had been a rough mission, despite the success, everyone’s emotions were still running high when they left the Thunderhawk. Dean had run to them only to stop and collapse on the floor.

Remembering this, Gadriel shook his head, not wanting to remember that moment; he knew the others didn’t either. He moved forward and picked Dean up, holding him “well I’m sure they appreciate you doing that but they would also want you to get your rest brother” he said poking his nose gently. This got a reaction from the boy, who giggled and covered his face in response before he gave a yawn, rubbing his eyes “s-sleepy time?” he asked. Chuckling, the man gave a nod to this, watching as Chairon picked up the discarded book on the ground along with the stuffed toy. Which was promptly given to Dean, who thanked the other for it, getting a head ruffle in response before the three left their honored brothers to sleep. During the walk to the sleeping area, Dean had fallen asleep in Gadriel’s arms, curled up against the other’s chest. The older male’s heart’s steady beat soothing him in a peaceful slumber, passing a few battle brothers gave questioning looks but didn’t approach when they saw he was sleeping. Walking into his room, which was placed between where Titus' room was and where Gadriel's was, they walked in, Titus walking in first and pulling the covers back so that Gadriel didn’t have to multitask doing it himself. The Primaris thanked him as he laid down the younger before moving to let Chairon tuck the boy into bed “Sleep well, brother, may the Emperor protect you in your sleep,” he says to him before standing up. He said goodnight to the others and went to his room, which was on the other side of Gadriels. Gadriel was the next to go, taking a moment to give Dean a pat on the head before walking past Titus, patting him on the shoulder, bidding them goodnight. Titus, still in the room, stayed a moment longer sitting at Dean’s bedside, wanting to be sure he would be okay, knowing that nightmares could creep up on the younger. After seeing that wasn’t gonna be the case for the night, he too made his way to his own quarters and upon lying down on his bed, fell asleep once he did so.

#writing #Astarte Subject!Dean #Child!Dean #Demetirus Titus #Valorem Gadriel #Meduras Chairon #Warhammer 40k #(sorry they are ooc)#Combat Squad Damocles

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alterrune · 9 months ago

Note

Albert: Well done on getting Lily, but it seems that her Shadow is ensuring you go through the same test you were intended to do last time, because every floor on this hospital had shifted into a distorted disjointed maze with its halls rotating. The doors to the staircases are all now randomly placed across each floor, and each one only leads one floor, this may take some time, especially with all the traps and the glitching doors.

Again, do not interact with glitching and distorted doors nor following the sound of a distorted music box, those will deceive you and can send you back on a random floor you were previously on. You’ll have to reach the reception room, that’s where Shadow Lily is located in.

And one more thing… if you ever see a projecting a memory you’ve had, whether it’s a good one or a bad one, do not attempt to interact with nor go near it, you will be sent to a random floor if that happens.

Oh, and one more thing, I found a file in Shadow Lily’s Hospital I managed to decrypt, but I don’t fully understand it, but it seems directed to Laurence and Lily, it’s says:

Mother is coming home soon.

I don’t know if this is a premonition or not, but I am sure Shadow Laurence said that same thing, either way, we’ll worry about the situation at hand. Get moving.

Hey, I thought you said if we went through the door, we'd die.

OH YOU WILL. BUT I WILL NOT GIVE UP THAT EASILY.

Son of a bitch! Just give up already!

(Shadow Lily simply shakes her head "no", then vanishes. I'm very much taken aback by having to do this again regardless.)

Alright, fine. Look for the sound of a music box. Goddamnit, I have no idea what constitutes as a "music box", I've never heard a song from one before!!!

(Suddenly, as if on cue, I hear a familiar song coming from one of the doors, and only one of the doors. It's a song I KNOW, too. It's a music box rendition of No Quarters!)

"hey guys. so, uh...seems like you're having trouble trying to find the right way forward. maybe playing some of my music will help."

HARMONY?! What the heck are you doing here?!

"well actually i'm not here. i just read this albert guy's messages and thought i'd help you with this whole maze thing by giving you some outside help to find your way back. just follow the sound of my band's music and you should be fine."

Ditto, Teddie. Let's follow Harmony's musical guidance!

(With the help of Harmony's music box, we manage to get right back down to the reception room in record time.)

Alright, Harmony! We made it.

Yeah, thanks to you coming in clutch with that music box.

We're in your debt, Miss Paruko. You really helped us out there.

We probably would've been running in circles if you hadn't shown up.

"alright, i think i'm gonna split before that shadow lily lady comes back."

"oh, and by the way, henry. it's just 'paruko'. that's the other name i go by, it's not my last name. see ya."

(The music box stops, as Harmony disconnects. Just as she does, Shadow Lily appears in front of us!)

YOU STILL INSIST ON CHEATING?!

Hey, fuckface! This time we didn't cheat. We went through your big-ass gauntlet, fair and square.

Yeah. You never said anything about outside help. According to your rules, what we did was totally legitimate.

Yeah, we didn't cheat this time. Get loopholed, bitch.

(Shadow Lily looks at all of us, then scoffs, knowing that we actually did do them legitimately. She knows she never said anything against outside help as she didn't think that would ever be an issue. Regardless, all of us are right in front of her, so Shadow Lily will make do with this.)

FINE. BUT YOU STILL HAVE ONE LAST ENEMY TO FACE. ME.

YOU WILL BE.

Kyle, we still ready?

Yep. For real this time...

Time to make history.

#altering the outcome #ato: shadow hunt #ask irl!alterrune #ask the ato cast #the colorstreak battalion #ask harmony

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ahungeringknife · 2 years ago

Text

365: June 24

Eric hanging out with @eyesupguardians's YW because that's fun and I love putting my OCs in my friends' sandboxes and seeing what happens owo

--------

All the little pieces of metal and wires on her Splicer Gauntlet shivered and folded when Hawke landed on the moon. Vanguard had the Vex network dives open for normal Guardians with the right clearance so Hawke didn't recognize anyone with her on sight. Her friends had sat out for the day. They knew what it meant to take a day off. Day off? Sounded fake. She didn't know how to do those. So she was working.

That and someone had to use the Splicer Gauntlet on these things and Mithrax only trusted so many Guardians with it. Usually he sent one of his Eliksni Splicers along if Hawke wasn't around to crack the Vex Network.

It wasn't hard work but the Vex were always shocked and pissed when Guardians showed up to wreck their shit. Especially on the Moon. As if they could let the Vex get a foothold here on the Moon. That was too close to Earth for everyone involved's comfort. But the work let her mind go blank and she just focused on the shooting, the Light. She was a terror with her throwing knives and caused plenty of muffled explosions on her side of the battlefield to take her full attention. She kept off local comms, not interested in the banter really. She just wanted to do the job.

She only really came up to the surface to remember other Guardians were here with her when she heard the snap of Stasis and she looked around half expecting one of Eramis' lieutenants. She wasn't always in touch with the common Guardian so she was genuinely surprised when she was in time to see a Hunter launch a Silence and Squall. She considered herself a good shot and have excellent aim but both kamas landed right in the eye of two different hydras. The precision needed for a throw like that from twenty feet in the air was no fluke.

She punched a goblin as it shambled over to her as the ice storm ripped through the higher rank Vex, freezing them solid in Stasis. Before they could start to chip and shatter a Nova Bomb seemed to just aparate inside the chassis of one of the Hydra and exploded it. Shards flew everywhere, covered in Void goop that stuck to the rank and file Vex making them shutter and become volatile. A Void grenade made them explode in a magnificent display of Light. She'd never seen another Guardian use Stasis before other than her own clan, let alone use it in combination with a Light.

"Woah," she said and her eyes were drawn to the Hunter who landed on the dilapidated habitat who made a familiar and shocking hand sign at a Warlock on the ground. She'd only seen other Hunters use that sign language together. The Warlock responding in like surprised her enough that a Minotaur got close enough to slap her to the ground.

Fucking Minotaur.

She surged to her feet, shoving Solar Light into her gun with a tremendous crack as it became empowered and golden in her hands. One shot shattered the shield, the next took the head off the Minotaur and the third went through into three Vex behind it. She unloaded the rest of the shots into some Hobgoblins taking sniper shots around the edges of the old houses.

A bullet whizzed past her helmet and a Wyvern shrieked from a bullet to its core. She'd been focused on the hobgoblins and hadn't heard the weird chicken Vex approaching.

She didn't have time to contemplate who'd been watching her back. Her Splicer Gauntlet shivered and all the metal bits moved in unison, pulling her towards the conflux. She still wasn't sure quite how this worked but she was able to manipulate the lattice into a construct. The unlocking tower rose like a great tumbler of teal and magenta energy. She had to keep it going, the gauntlet spinning and clicking as the other Guardians correctly sequenced the lock. The tumblers engaged and it rushed into the ground, creating a great sink in reality.

Just by proximity Hawke jumped in first and the rest rushed to follow. The Vex Network anywhere not around Hawke was unstable for Guardians so they kept up. She wondered if she was recognized. Maybe not. She was wearing similar armor as the rest. When your gear wore out your Ghosts recreated it out of what was around. It was wires and cables and scrap pieces of metal and plastic. Other than the Gauntlet she didn't look dissimilar to several other Hunters running the Splice.

They didn't get far into the Network before catching the attention of a higher mind. The Hydra roared in its horrible machine voice as they came upon it. The Hydra put up defenses; impregnable walls, immunity shields, and summoning an endless stream of Vex for them to fight. But this mind was nothing. She'd faced worse. It was nothing compared to Aetheon, or Predothos. The mind shattered but the way ahead of them was sealed, the way for the Vex to get out was also closed.

Hawke finally switched over to local comms to gather everyone up. They needed to get close to avoid missing their ticket out of the Network. There was a ton of cross talk but Hawke narrowed it to the Hunter she'd seen using Stasis outside.

She was standing over a Warlock who was poking at the remains of the Hydra they'd just killed. "There's nothing there, babe, just get over it," she sighed, holding her gun- a long barreled scout rifle Hawke mistook for a sniper rifle at first- up and resting on her shoulder. Her armor was almost the same color as the Vex Network, all aquas and magentas with splashes of yellow like she'd been spat out of a candy store except for her helmet which was a blank black glass front. Her cloak trailed down to the heels of her boots, an older Hunter who took care of their cloak. But her armor itself was... weird. Hawke couldn't quite put her finger on why.

"No I was sure I saw part of it disjoin before it broke apart," the Warlock said, a mechanical buzz to his voice Hawke recognized as belonging to an EXO. He matched her in vibrant colors, his robes a well polished leather. He'd been the Warlock with the Nova Bomb, had to be with the Nezarac Sin.

"Well you can't spend all day poking at Vex guts," she said in a surprisingly patient tone for how insane this Warlock sounded. Hawke noticed a change in her stance and their gaze met through their helmets. "You need something, Young Wolf?" she asked, not meanly just curious.

Well she hadn't meant to be noticed, just be nosy. "You used Stasis," was all she said, their comms narrowed enough she wasn't across all comms. Which was good since Saint and Mithrax were bickering with Osiris about... something.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"That's my business," she said defensively.

"Didn't think the Vanguard allowed it," she'd sure been chewed out by Zavala about it. Not that she really cared.

"Vanguard doesn't have much authority on Hunters nowadays," she said simply with a shrug. Hawke had never considered that. She always just did what was needed or what she wanted. It didn't occur to her that normal Hunters actually did heed the call of the Hunter Vanguard.

"You got a heck of an arm," Hawke said. Landing the kamas so precisely back on the moon was impressive. She wasn't even sure she could do that. And the ice storm had come around a few times after that initial one too.

"Heh, yeah I guess-

"Yeah she does!" the Warlock cried.

"Hawke, you need to get out of there," Saint suddenly boomed in her ear, startling her.

"Right," she said, nodding.

"Everyone form up," Polaris said over comms and the other five Guardians came to stand around.

"Come on, stop fussing with that," and the Hunter dragged her Warlock over to Hawke. He'd been poking at the Hydra carcass again.

The Gauntlet shivered and spun, all the pieces snapping into position to create an elevator up and out of the Vex Network. The tunnel spat them out into the air high above the moon's surface and allowed for about ten seconds of free fall. Two Guardians fucked up their falls. One face planted, one broke all the bones in their legs. Hawke landed lightly, catching herself at the last minute on the Light.

She went over to properly close the Splice, the Gauntlet whirling around her arm and wrist. The other Guardians started transmatting away or getting onto their sparrows if they'd just come from patrol. The Nezarac Sin Warlock came over as the Gauntlet worked, she helping it along. Mithrax just said think about what she wanted it to do and it'd do it. Sounded crazy but it usually worked.

"So how does one get one of those? Or on the list Mithrax trusts?" the Warlock asked curiously over a narrow beam comm. Not quite private but private enough.

"Uh... don't be a fuck head I guess?" Hawke said not knowing how to answer that really. The Warlock laughed.

"Or you know a guy, or girl," Polaris said.

"So I could know you?"

The Hunter came over, having left her sparrow when the Warlock didn't join her. "Savant are you bothering the Young Wolf?" she asked, annoyed with him.

"What? Noooo! I was just trying to be friendly," he whined. Hawke smiled slightly in her helmet despite herself. It was funny. The Hunter was about two heads shorter than the Warlock, Savant, and he was whining at her and slouched.

"My friends usually get on the short list, yeah," Hawke said slowly.

"Really!" Savant asked.

"Short list of what?" the Hunter asked.

"Who can wear a Gauntlet."

"You do not need to wear a Splicer Gauntlet."

"But it's so cool!"

The Hunter looked at Hawke. "Young Wolf, don't let my precious idiot here anywhere near a Splicer Gauntlet."

"You never let me have any fun."

"This was fun!"

"... I guess."

Hawke giggled as the Gauntlet finished what it was doing. "Who are you two?" Polaris asked for her. Thank the Traveler. She didn't want to appear rude.

"I'm Savant-3," the Warlock said.

"Eric," the Hunter said. "And he does not need a Splicer Gauntlet," she shot him a look through her helmet.

"But it would be so helpful with my research-

"You have so many dead Vex on your ship, and in your apartment, and in your workshop-

"Yeah but those aren't from the Vex Net!" he insisted. "These are different."

Eric just sighed and looked at Hawke. "Do not put him on the short list," she told her, deadpan.

Hawke... laughed. "Sure. Whatever you say," she said.

"What? You'll listen to her but not me?" Savant asked dramatically.

"We're Hunters," Eric said.

"Uggggh! Fucking Hunters," he groaned and marched off all in a huff. Eric giggled.

"Is... he going to be okay?" Hawke asked Eric.

"Yeah," she said and Hawke could hear the smile in her voice. "He's just moody he couldn't collect any Vex from the Network. Even though he has some already."

"Do you guys help in Splices often?" she asked casually. These two were fun.

"Sometimes. We were on the Moon and passing by. Better than being stuck in that Endless Night," she crossed herself in a traditional Hunter way to ward off bad luck. Hawke didn't do that kinda stuff or was even that superstitious but she found herself mimicking the motion.

"So maybe you'll be around for the next Splice I find?" Hawke asked.

Eric took a beat. "Sure," she said.

"Eric now you're the one bothering the Young Wolf," Savant's voice came over comms sounding so dejected and whiny.

They both giggled. "Maybe see you around," Eric said and gave the casual Hunter two fingered salute before walking off. Again Hawke found herself mimicking it. She went over to her sparrow, a sleek SIVA inspired thing and saw Savant looked like someone had peeled an Eliksni pike and covered it with bones and chains and set it on fire. So some weird Eververse thing Hawke was shocked was even allowed. They must have been talking over private comms for a moment because there was some gesticulating before they turned their sparrows around and sped off.

"Well they were neat," Polaris said. "Ready to transmat?"

"And search for another warp in the net?" Hawke asked.

Polaris sighed the sigh of 'my Guardian never sleeps', "Yes. For another place to splice," she allowed.

"Yeap," Hawke said and Polaris transmatted her back up to her ship.

#365 #writeblr #writblr #fanfiction #destiny #destiny 2 #destiny the game #the young wolf #young wolf #original guardians

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dr4c0-r3x · 5 months ago

Text

Not part of my DC x DC crossover.

Bretrayal comes from those they care about, but what happens when it's unintentional.

Team Phantom had a system, encryped phones that would fry it into a useless brick, whenever three wrong passwords were entered or jailbreaked.

Sam on the other hand had two phone, both with all of their files.

The GIW had offered a bounty, any information for complete immune. The Manson's knew they their daughter was inleague with something shady so they used this as an excuse to snoop through her phones or rather phones.

Sam had to live with the bretrayal for years, and her parents trived with the increase to their reputation. As a result Sam's parents decided to have another daughter, one that they could mold into their prefect little princess. They also decided to move thier family to France.

It had been seven years since then. Seven years since Jazz went to college. Seven years since Jack, Maddie and the GIW ambushed Danny at home. Seven years since Sam only saw the lights from the fight while flying away to a new country.

Sam dreamt about one of those high society galas her parents loved so much. She was wearing a type lengthed dress, it must have been the one from three months ago.

Someone walks upnext to her: You know the vibe is much better when you drink it.

Sam jumps slightly out of shock: Oh right sorry about that.

Sam pulled the glass of wive to her lips, only to stop when she sees a black liquid with a galaxy swirling inside of it: What the?

It was only then that Sam truly looked at where she was. She was in a castle, and there were ghosts dancing with each other. She looked to the stranger and saw him.

It was Danny, he was a good head taller than her now and had much broader shoulders than she remembered. But what shocked her more was the fact he now had the Reality Gauntlet on his left arm when Sam remembered it being for the right. What shocked her most the fact it was missing the Gem of Form.

Sam in shock: Is it really you?

Danny took the glass into his right hand which was replaced with an arm of ice, a skeleton inside and the Ring of Rage on the ring finger: I'm pretty sure it is.

Sam only now noticed that his hair was tied back into a flaming ponytail and a crown made of an aurora: Are you here to finish me?

Danny pulled the glass away from his lips: That was never my plan, my plan was to make you an offer.

Sam finally takes a sip of the Galaxy Wine: Is it death.

Danny smiled down at her: As morbid as I remember, I missed that, but no.

Danny held out his hand to drop something in her hand: It's more of a continuation of our relationship.

Danny turned away and pulled a plate of ham with an opal glaze. In Sam's hand was a beautiful intricately carved black ring, with the Gem of Form on top.

Sam looked up at Danny and was too shocked to even notice the back: You can't be serious.

Danny after swallowing a small piece of ham: Of course. You literally made me the man I am today. You were the only person who had a true interest in me. Finally I recently discovered that Fruitloop Vlad mixed our DNAs together to make Dani.

Sam didn't register that last part as she quickly put on the ring: What's next?

Danny leaned in closer only to whisper: Wake up Sam.

Sam's eyes shot open only to see that she was in her bedroom, only now she had a feeling of something missing. She looked down expecting not to see the ring, but there it was.

Sam smiled to herself and held her hand to her chest: I waited seven years for you and I’d wait the rest of my life.

In the distance a massive green ghost portal opened and swallowed the Eiffel Tower.

Sam in shock and slightly impressed: Looks like I won’t have to wait long.

Sam got out of bed and used the Gem of Form to change herself into a halfa. She then began to pull her ectoplasm out of her.

She remembered how Danny used to describe Spectral Separation via Duplication, “It’s like playing two different video games on the same screen, separated by a split screen.”

It would have been a horrifying scene if anyone had seen Sam separate her ghost half from her human. It was of a nature goddess, the same one as when Overgrowth took control of her.

Ghost Sam smiling down at Human Sam: Thank you for everything.

Human Sam smiling up at Ghost Sam: Just promise it’ll be painless.

Ghost Sam smiles now, falling into a sad one as she taps the Gem of Form on Human Sam’s forehead: I promise I’ll leave a beautiful corpse.

Human Sam’s body falls to the back bed as if she had just fallen asleep.

With that done Sam flew out of the window to join the love of her afterlife, whether it was a full on invasion of the realm of the living or rescuing all of the impressioned ghosts captured by the GIW.

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queenofbaws · 3 years ago

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Bed sharing 15 Hakwe and Varric GOSH GUYS WHAT CHANGED HMM I WONDER

definitely more than six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!

“So?”

“Oh, it’s not so bad! I mean…as far as burnt-out husks of ancient war forts go, anyway.”

“A ringing endorsement!”

“I’m just saying we’ve slept in worse.”

Varric stepped aside with a gentlemanly wave of the hand, allowing Hawke to saunter her way into the room before him; and saunter she did, her stride the familiar rolling bounce it had been back in Hightown, Lowtown, the docks, the Gallows, everywhere in between. She stood in the middle of the room he’d claimed as his own, her arms akimbo, her stance loose beneath the gleam of her Champion’s regalia—and then he pulled the door shut behind him, and all that posturing fell away.

“Maker’s tits, I forgot how exhausting being the Champion of Kirkwall was!” she groaned, rolling her eyes up towards the ceiling even as she tore her gauntlets off and let them drop to the ground.

“I forgot how complicated that awful armor of yours is,” he snorted, latching the door and testing its hold before similarly allowing the performance to drop from his shoulders. “Why do I remember it being pointier than that?”

“Ah, that. Yes, well. Time makes fools of us all, Varric, I am no exception.” She paused in undoing a buckle to flash him a look through her eyelashes, her grin wry but warm. “As it turns out, fleeing the Chantry isn’t quite as exciting as the stories would have you believe. Sometimes, during those long, cold nights in the middle of absolutely nowhere, a girl finds she has no way to amuse herself but to file away the edges of her dress armor. Just…rasping a single rock against those hard edges over and over again, dwelling on the myriad mistakes which brought her to that singular moment.”

His eyebrow went up.

She raised both of hers in return.

“So it just always looked like that, huh?”

“Pretty much. Maybe your memory’s going in your old age. Here, will you help me with these?”

Something had happened that morning, when they’d met in Skyhold’s courtyard—out in the open, of course, in broad daylight, because that was how clandestine rendezvous actually happened. It wasn’t something either could put words to, which was something of a miracle in and of itself, considering who they were, but it had happened all the same: Things had simply picked up where they’d left off. As though time hadn’t passed, like the only thing that’d changed was where they were and what flag flew in the ramparts over their heads. Everything else had slotted back into its proper place, and they were themselves again.

Or at least that was what they’d thought.

Because then Varric took hold of one of the leather straps wrapped around Hawke’s back and something else happened. Something they could’ve put words to. Something they chose not to, all the same.

Hawke cleared her throat slightly, hoping to draw attention away from how abruptly her laughter had stopped, making a grand show of tying her hair back out of her face as Varric went about unfastening her armor as he’d done countless times before back in Kirkwall. “I thought Cullen was going to burst into flame when I first walked out this morning. I never really understood the phrase ‘He looked like he’d seen a ghost’ until then, know what I mean?”

“Curly’s who you were looking at, huh?” he joked, willing his fingers to keep working as he undid the first of the belts securing her chestpiece and moved to the second, so much of the day already forgotten, pushed out of place by the bone-deep familiarity of the moment they found themselves in just then. “You want to talk about bursting into flame, I thought the Seeker was going to ascend to the Golden City when you looked at her.”

“That wasn’t her normal face, then?”

“Oh, sure. The Divine’s biggest, scariest guard-dog usually walks around blushing up to the roots of her hair and stammering like a Templar recruit passing by a brothel for the first time—you wouldn’t believe how much it intimidates the political prisoners.”

“I’ll bet. Could you imagine if Meredith had gone around giggling like a little girl all the time? Terrifying. Literally the stuff of nightmares.”

They snickered at that, and the snickering turned to laughter, and the laughter threatened to become guffaws, and there in the half-dark of the drafty old room, they might well have been in the Hanged Man again, congratulating themselves on another scam that broke in their favor. The déjà vu of it all was palpable, especially as Hawke pressed her hands to her chest to keep her armor from clattering to floor as Varric loosened that final belt and he turned away to start a fire in the grate to give the place some measure of warmth. They’d been there a million times before, done it all to the point where it’d become routine.

Only they hadn’t. And it wasn’t. And still neither said anything about it.

Hawke let out a groan of relief much too loud to be anything but a joke as she stripped the rest of her regalia off, shedding the Champion’s skin so she could slip back into her own. “Much better,” she sighed, stretching this way and that until her spine popped. “While we’re on the topic, I must admit, Varric…few things prepared me to walk in here and find you wearing something other than that duster of yours.”

Once the fire had caught, he glanced over his shoulder and then glanced away just as quickly, trying in vain to convince himself that it was that same familiarity, that same sense of being back in another time and place, that caused his heart to stutter in his chest at the sight of her. “We weren’t on the topic, but far be it from me to—”

“Sure we were! You said my armor was terrible, I agreed, you asked if it’d always looked like that, I made a witty joke…”

“Uh huh,” he smirked, beginning the (much less familiar) process of slipping out of his own armor as Hawke paced around, getting an eyeful of his quarters. “Yeah, well, as it turns out, her Inquisitorialness just really gets a kick out of dragging all of us out into the middle of nowhere to stare through skulls and pick up shards of who-knows-what, and a guy can only handle so many bug bites before enough is enough.”

She hummed in acknowledgement, then languidly waved towards him. “Does the, uh…lack of sleeves help? With the bug bites, I mean?”

“Ha ha.”

“No, I’m curious. Riveted, even.” She turned down a corner of the bed’s sheets and considered herself for a moment, running through silent reminders of all the bedrolls they’d shared back home, not to mention the number of times his palatial suite had acted as her palatial suite. There was no reason for this to be any different, none whatsoever, so she climbed in before her traitorous mind could speak up in a voice louder than her exhaustion. “It’s been a long while since we’ve spoken face-to-face, so I’ll grant that you may have forgotten, but I’m Fereldan, Varric, and my people sort of invented slumming through the mud, you understand. I’m just wondering whether the bugs in Orlais are different, that’s all.”

“Wait, you’re Fereldan?” he joked. “Since when? I’ve never heard you talk about that before! Are you sure you’ve mentioned it to me?”

She sank down into the pillow, hugging it close to her face, and when she felt the mattress dip beside her, she willed herself to shut her eyes. Pretending he hadn’t interrupted at all, she continued, “Are they intimidated by your muscles?”

“Hilarious.”

“Well, are they?”

Varric pulled the blankets up against Skyhold’s usual chill, yanking especially hard near Hawke’s side to jokingly cover her face. “Goodnight, Hawke,” he said flatly, though the laugh that punctuated it robbed it of any finality. “So glad to have you back.”

“Glad to be back,” she hummed into her pillow, turning the covers down just enough that they came up to her chin. “I did so miss my trusty dwarf,” she laughed, then pitched her voice down lower to add, “And his arms, my word!”

When their chuckling tapered off, there was only the sound of the fire crackling low in the grate. No raucous drunks hollered from just beyond the wall, none of their friends’ heated arguments snuck in through the cracks of the door, and all at once it became perfectly obvious that for all the things that’d stayed the same during their time apart, something bigger had changed. This wasn’t Kirkwall, and it wasn’t the Hanged Man, and this wasn’t how it had felt to fall asleep beside one another after a day of doing someone else’s dirtywork.

It wasn’t even close.

“I did miss you,” Hawke said after a beat, when it became obvious neither of them was about to fall asleep. “Jokes aside.”

“Yeah, I…I missed you too, Hawke.” Again the feeling of first seeing her in the courtyard rose up fresh in his chest, the relief so thick, so palpable, that even with the warmth of her beside him, it was a little difficult to accept she was actually there. That she wasn’t just a memory, a handful of coded words scrawled on an old piece of parchment carried across Thedas and back. He hadn’t been able to react the way he’d wanted to then, not with all of the Inquisition milling about, and he wondered why now, away from all those prying eyes, he still felt that same need to hold back.

Probably, he thought, because of that unspoken thing lingering between them; because he had the strangest suspicion that if he reached out and touched her at all, for even a moment longer than it had taken him to undo her armor, he wouldn’t be able to let go, that once he had her in his arms there’d be no going back. And wasn’t that a frightening thing to be thinking about your friend?

Hawke’s arms only tightened around the pillow, proof positive the fear wasn’t his alone. “I mean…I really missed you, Varric,” she admitted, her voice muffled by down but plenty loud enough to hear in Skyhold’s silence. “I guess I didn’t realize how much time we spent together until…well, we weren’t.”

“Preaching to the choir.” It was all he could think to say. It didn’t feel like enough. Probably because it wasn’t. “But here we are again, huh? Different boss, same bullshit, slightly better booze…”

“Anything is better than what Corff served.”

“…and unfortunately for a certain magister who shan’t be named, we’re back together.”

“Close enough to pick the same pocket.”

“Damn right. Nothing to do now but make up for lost time.”

There was a beat where it hung between them thicker than ever, the thing they’d been avoiding…and then Hawke, the one who always made a point to jump when an abyss presented itself if only to see whether this would finally be the time she figured out how to fly, let go of her pillow and slid her arm across Varric’s chest instead, shifting to nestle her chin against his shoulder and remove what remained of the space where that silent, changed thing had been hiding.

Varric turned to her, and she met his eyes, and then their foreheads were touching, and there was a hand in her hair, and neither could say who had started it, but their lips came together and Skyhold melted away for a moment.

“It’s a lot of time to make up for,” Hawke said when they pulled apart, her lips curved in a wicked smirk as they brushed his, her voice equal parts whisper and taunt.

“Eh,” Varric chuckled, his thumb tracing slow circles along the back of her neck as he brought her close again, “We’re pretty good team, you and me. I think we’ll figure it out.”

#big-ass-magnet #six sentence weekend #queenie writes dragon age #hawke x varric #varric x hawke #vhawke #ty audrey - from the MOMENT this ask came in its been ALL IVE BEEN ABLE TO THINK ABOUT AHHHHH

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a-libra-writes · 4 years ago

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Congratulations on 800!

24. “You’re my favourite.”

For Sandor Clegane from his s/o mayhaps? 🪐

Enjoy 👀

The hooves hit the ground so hard, she could swear the horse's legs would break. But the beasts stayed true to course, carrying the weight of the riders that were determined to run straight into each other.

Both knights missed their mark completely, and the men around them groaned in annoyance. The riders lined up to try the list again, and Y/N found her patience running thin. Only a man would think up the idea to mount a horse in full armor, carry a stick and think to knock someone off a horse with it.

Y/N sat restlessly, not able to use the excuse of her 'delicate constitution' disagreeing with the heat because the weather was perfectly agreeable. She glanced at Joffrey, a boy too small to sit in his seat properly, yet allowed to watch the practices. His seat had to be stacked with cushions, and he was yelling princely directions at the knights. In Y/N’s opinion, he was far too young for this, but her opinion was rarely considered by her queenly cousin.

Ignoring the boy’s shouting, she scanned the armored knights, looking for the only reason she was here. It was always worth enduring Cersei’s brat to see him.

Finally, he rode up, wearing that distinctive dog helm she found ridiculous but the boy insisted on. She hated how Sandor was in Joff’s service, even if that’s what brought them together. He hadn’t closed the snarling visor yet, so she could look at him, brief as it was. Of course, Sandor wouldn’t look back at her. He was careful about these things. Paranoid, and rightfully so. Still, it wouldn’t kill him to slightly glance in her direction…

Y/N was so focused on watching him, she hadn’t noticed how the other men were deciding who would ride next. No one wanted to risk broken limbs for a practice run. They whispered hastily amongst themselves, and then a mounted knight stepped forward dramatically, ending their conversations. Y/N only vaguely recognized his shield. He turned and bowed to the prince, and then bowed to her. That was surprising; she was used to being ignored when in the presence of the crown prince. The young knight’s helmet was off, giving her a proper view of his bright smile and a flourish he made with his hand.

She was sure if he had flowers, he’d be offering them to her. Y/N didn’t even know who this knight was, but he ought to keep the dramatics for the tourneys. A bold man, but a foolish one. She simply pursed her lips in a smile, then dropped it. An indication that she noticed the flattery, and no more.

The sound of metal hitting metal resounded through the field. The snarling dog helmet snapped shut with a swift motion. Y/N dismayed at losing sight of Sandor’s face. If that knight hadn’t distracted her, she may have had a few more moments, pathetic as that sounded. He was always busying guarding her cousin’s royal terror. Now that her focus was back on him, Y/N noted how tightly Sandor’s fingers curled around the lance. The other knight was not holding his near so tightly, and why should he? This was practice.

Little Joffrey stood on stop of his cushions and bellowed, “FIGHT!” There was no point in telling the boy it wasn’t a real fight, because gods knew he wanted blood.

Y/N hadn’t expected it to actually come, though. Stranger hit the ground running hard. He was a brutal mount, and Sandor had a strong, rigid poster. Y/N tensed, then gasped as Sandor knocked the knight straight off his horse with a single blow. The man went flying, hitting the ground with a cacophony of metal clanging. His horse bucked and ran off from the shock, causing several squires to shout and jump out of the way.

Joffrey laughed in delight. “Get him! Get him!” He said, though his cries were drowned out by the voices of men. They all stayed far away from Stranger, whose nostrils were still flaring, and a few squires ran for the dismounted knight. Y/N winced as they lifted his battered body. At least he was able to shamble to his feet.

That dog helmet turned sharply toward her, and Y/N realized she was holding her hand to her mouth. She lowered it, making sure the disapproval was clear on her face. Joffrey shouted and pointed some more, demanding someone else go against “his dog”, but Jaime stepped forward. His patience always ran thin with Joff.

“That’s enough, your highness,” The Kingsguard said airily. “It’s time you head back for your lessons.”

“I don’t want lessons! Uncle, go down there and fight the Hound!” The young prince jumped out of his seat in agitation. “You're the only one who will, and mother said he'll fight whoever I say!"

Jaime and Y/N shared expressions of exhaustion. She didn’t envy him in his duty. She put on her sweetest voice and said, “Dear prince, the more lessons you do, the more your mother will let you watch the knights. You don’t want to miss their melee training, do you?”

The boy considered this. For once, the storm in his green eyes lessened, though no doubt it would return when he was allowed to return. “Let’s hurry, uncle,” He ordered his Kingsguard. “I’ll do whatever stupid lesson mother and that old man want, then we can come back for the real fighting. I'll make sure they do it."

Charming. Y/N sighed. She watched Joffrey practically pull Jaime away, forgetting all about the bodyguard he was just shouting at. Her heart fluttered in her chest at the opportunity the brat gave her. Y/N waited a few minutes, watching the knights disperse and talk. Sandor was already gone, but she still took her time in making sure the servants were occupied before slipping away from the pavilion.

Lifting her crimson dress high above her ankles, Y/N walked through winding servant’s paths along the Red Keep’s gardens. She ducked behind a pillar or tall bush anytime someone passed. As she edged closer to the barracks and quartermaster’s keep, she watched squires and soldiers file in and out. As soon as backs were turned, she scampered down the wide hall.

Despite being an official bodyguard of the Prince, Sandor kept his own small quarters. He had little patience for any squires and servants attempting to enter, the only reason she was so bold to come here. That, and no one would ever assume the good-natured cousin of the Queen would ever associate with a scarred, angry dog. Y/N stepped close to the wooden door, pressed her ear to it, and smiled as she heard the movement of armor.

She didn’t knock as she came in, and closed the door quietly behind her. Sandor flinched as though she slammed it. As usual, he was more on edge when she entered his room than vice versa.

“What in the seven hells are you doing here?” He grimaced.

“Lovely to see you, too,” Y/N said. She dropped her skirts down, ignoring the dirty rushes that scattered the floor.

“I told you not to bloody come in here, didn’t I? You’ll be seen.”

“I won’t be. You’re determined to scare off any servant whose trying to do their job."

Sandor scoffed, but said nothing to that. He turned away from her, his shoulders tense, returning to cleaning his helmet. Y/N was familiar with this. She stepped forward slowly, reaching her hand out. Even with the armor on his shoulders, he flinched again when she touched him.

“You needn’t be so rough on the training grounds.” She said, leaning in. She wished he’d look at her. Sandor was lowering his face, the scarred side covered by some of his stringy black hair. “You could have killed that man.”

Instantly, he looked up. “What does that matter to you?” He sneered. “Do you know him?”

“An hour ago was our first meeting.” Y/N said. A smile tugged at her painted lips. “Were you jealous, Sandor? Are you still?”

He scoffed, the harsh noise coming hard from his throat, but he didn’t refute it.

“You needn’t be. You’re my favorite.”

The lady gasped at the feeling of cold, hard metal on her wrist. With little grace, Y/N was yanked onto the man’s large lap. She felt his other metal gauntlet wrap around her waist, digging into the silk and skin, keeping her in place. Finally, finally, they were close. There was no looking away or hiding now.

Sometimes she wondered if he wanted her to recoil and turn away. She never did. Y/N pressed herself closer, all armor and propriety be damned. That raspy voice rumbled through his chest as he said, “You won’t say sweet things when I stop being nice, Lady Lannister.”

He sneered that title as two large hands squeezed her even more, keeping her stuck in place. Y/N was fine with that. She glanced at the modest bed just a few feet from them, one of the few furnishings in this small room. She wanted those gloved hands to squeeze and rip whatever they pleased, wanting to surrender to all of it.

So, she challenged him. “I prefer when you aren’t nice, ser knight.”

She expected the usual retort — the gruff “I’m no knight” line that he was so fond of. A rough kiss was the response, and she gladly accepted it.

#breaking news: libra actually did something #this was fun tho :) horsies!#sandor clegane x reader #libra minis #i feel my sandor is rlly weak but hope u enjoy nontheless

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