#( i wonder if he can misty step from his consequences )

[bhaalswn-arch]

picks him up and throws him over his shoulder. we're going straight to jail murder boy

You think you were safe from an extreme tall person? Like this fella right here? Who probably grabbed you by the scuff and placed you on his shoulder? Chances are low. But never zero. "Hey!" Alkas exclaims, wiggling. "Put me down!"

[chockfullofsecrets]

Critical Role: The Importance of Timing, Ch 1

<<chapter navigation TBA>>

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: Jester sobers quickly, though, pouting insistently down at them.“Four is pret-ty bad, you guys.”

Kingsley nods seriously. Thus validated, she starts bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “I think we need to punish them, Fjord!”

Caleb and Essek make the mistake of overworking themselves right before the Mighty Nein are scheduled for a reunion. Lessons are learned.

Wordcount: 3.6k (yeah, this one’s going to take a while)

A/N: making some more progress on my backlog of prompts (this one happens to be both from the most recent vote and this lovely anon prompt)! cross your fingers that this is going to be my first finished chapter fic lol

---

Caleb hardly remembers it, later.

It was evening - not particularly late, but after three near-sleepless nights time stretched into its own kind of viscous liquidity. Like a soup.

He laughed to himself at the absurdity of it, too tired for more than the barest expense of breath. Essek would know better than he, of course - he turned to him, intending to share the thought, and found a sheaf of notes thrust mere inches from his face.

“Here,” Essek said brusquely. Exhaustion did not lend itself to the usual smoothness of his speech. “I think I have it, finally - if we engrave it this way, the spell will replenish itself without interrupting conversation, yes?”

“Oh.” He took the papers, looking them over blearily - his eyes widened, a brief rush of vigor returning. “Oh, this is - oh, this is good! Let me just fabricate the surface smooth again and we can try-”

There was a crash from a location beyond the lab and therefore currently unimportant. Neither of them looked up.

The interruption, then, arrived unexpectedly.

“Hel-loooo!”came a lilting Nicodranian accent from the hall. “We got here early and you didn’t answer your door so we used our super cool magic powers to come in, and we should to-tally make a hammock themed room in the mansion tonight because I think Fjord is kind of land sick - Caleb, look at me, why do you look so terrible?”

Caleb knew the consequences of ignoring that voice. He looked up.

After hours of gazing at runes, his eyes refused to fully adjust and take in the three figures in the doorway. He squinted and managed to make out a bit of blue. “Jester?”

“They look tired right out, the poor things,” a purple blob pronounced from Jester’s right. “We haven’t missed out on an adventure, have we?”

“No,” Jester said, “Essek would never go out with his hair looking like that. Right, Essek? Aren’t you, like, super embarrassed that your hair’s all floppy right now?”

Sitting shoulder to shoulder with the floppy-haired drow in question, Caleb could just barely hear him hiss in protest at the interruption. “Leave, then, if it disturbs you so.”

Caleb blinked, starting to fumble together a sentence to dull the reprimand, and suddenly the remaining green blob resolved into Fjord as he put a hand on Caleb’s forehead and crouched to look into his eyes. “All right, it’s bedtime for you two. Jes, can you get Essek?”

“Wait-” Caleb grabbed weakly for the table, for his notes at least, but he was already being swept up in Fjord’s arms and carried bodily from the room. Essek sounded much more awake - and irate, frankly - behind him, trying to explain something, but it had been far too long since he had been anywhere near horizontal - with his head pillowed against Fjord’s bicep, he was asleep before they reached the stairs.

---

Waking is a slow process.

He is not alone - there’s a weight to being tangled up in someone else, the warm scent of closeness, and even without his eidetic memory he does not think he can ever forget the stony, moon-soaked smell of having his face buried in the crook of Essek’s shoulder.

He yawns lazily. Essek must be very tired, if Caleb is awake and he is not, and he is the better cook of the two of them anyway - although of course neither of them have any comparison to Caduceus, or Yasha now that it’s been several months since her last poisoning incident. He presses a gentle kiss to Essek’s jaw and rolls out of bed to get started with breakfast.

Or tries to, at least. His top half makes it out of bed easily enough, but the rest of him does not seem inclined to follow.

Something clanks at the foot of the bed as he narrowly hauls himself up from a quick trip to the floor. He props himself up on an elbow, halfway through another yawn, and finds himself staring down a pair of manacles hooked around his ankles.

He kicks cautiously. The chain threaded through his bed posts clanks again.

Panic begins to stir low in his gut. “Essek!”

There’s a sleepy murmur next to him. He twists to find Essek blinking awake - there’s not much else he can do, with his arms shackled above his head and his legs chained below in similar fashion. The cuffs are padded at least, stuffed with what looks to be worn handkerchiefs, and they’re both fully dressed in sleep clothes - their captors don’t want to hurt them, then, not yet.

Caleb scans the room frantically. The book he has been reading is still propped open on the bedside table, the door knob Essek had pried from an Aeorian ruin after Caleb had commented on its sparkle still proudly adorns the bathroom door, Kingsley is still leaning against the window-

He grins smugly as Caleb’s gaze snaps back to him. “Oh, good, you’re both awake. Comfy watch, but it’s ever so much more boring without the-” He pulls his hands from his pockets and rocks them back and forth. “Oh, and also the fish folk trying to kill us, those are great.”

“Kingsley?” Caleb demands. Next to him, Essek makes a shocked sound as he presumably recognizes that he cannot move any of his limbs. “What is this?”

“Oh, I can’t rightly say.” Kingsley saunters over and swings himself neatly up onto the mattress, worming between him and Essek to sit cross-legged at the center of the bed. “Wasn’t my idea, at any rate-”

“Jester and Fjord were here too,” Essek interrupts. “Is this - this is a prank, is it not?”

“Hush, you,” Kingsley smirks. “All I’ve got is that I’m to ensure you don’t make your way free with any spellcasting before Fjord and Jester get back. And to that end…”

He breaks the pause with a dramatic flourish of his arms, spreading them wide before laying a palm down lightly on each of their bellies. “I’m told this should do just fine, if the two of you care to demonstrate?”

Caleb connects the dots just a moment too late to throw himself back off the edge of the bed. “Kingsley - wait - ah!”

There was a time when it would take minutes for his mind to link the intruding sensation of touch to anything but wariness. Now, the instant Kingsley’s fingers start scribbling he’s flat on his back, pushing weakly at the offending limb and doing his best not to collapse into hysterical snickering at how much it - it -

“Tickle, tickle, magic man,” Kingsley teases, pupilless eyes aflame with mischief. “No, no, don’t bother fighting it. I’ve heard tales about those ribs of yours, you know. Especially how much you love letting Jester play with them, hm?”

“N-nein, that’s not-” Caleb tries to protest, but he’s already giggling just at the thought - Fjord and Jester are here, and he’s stuck, and Kingsley won’t stop tickling him-

Kingsley’s grin grows another satisfied inch as he turns back to Essek. “And you, stubborn - oh, are you trying to cast something? Is that what that face means?”

Essek is struggling, jaw working and face scrunched as his entire body trembles in time with the claw vibrating its way into his belly. Caleb can practically see the Misty Step brewing on his tongue, just a few short words between him and freedom if only he can get them out without laughing.

Until Jester tracks him down, that is. He hasn’t - they’ve been apart, and then in Aeor, and then working on their big project for the past few weeks, and Caleb hasn’t exactly gotten around to admitting that he might like Essek to - admitting anything, really. Or telling Essek that now that Jester knows he’s ticklish and doesn’t entirely mind it, any attempt to escape will only end in more retribution.

An oversight, in retrospect.

Kingsley purrs, apparently entirely delighted with his victim’s predicament. “Oh, come on now, you can do it! It’s been a while since I’ve seen a good magic show.” Essek shakes his head frantically, lips pressed together even as his cheeks puff with repressed giggles, and Kingsley grins all the wider. “No? Let’s see how long you last when I really start pressing your buttons, then.”

On his side and snickering helplessly, Caleb cannot help but feel a little jealous as he watches Kingsley tug up Essek’s shirt and wait for his eyes to widen in terrible anticipation. “One last chance, then? Cause I think this is really going to tickle.”

Caleb wants him to succeed, really, he does - but watching Essek try as hard as he can to curl in on himself as a single fingertip starts to rub at his navel, squirming and squeezing his eyes shut and finally barking out the first two syllables of his incantation before the third succumbs to high, squeaking laughter holds its own considerable charm. “Ahahaaaa - nooo, hehe! - wh -” He laughs a little more, shoulders shaking, and barely manages to gasp out the words. “Fjord - Jester - where -”

“Couldn’t take it? Oh, you are a ticklish thing,” Kingsley tells him, laughing when Essek’s attempt at protesting collapses into a breathless snort. “You’re wondering where they are? Really, I couldn’t say. Maybe they’ll be gone for hours, and I’ll just have to keep tickling and tickling-”

He’s focused in on Essek now, taking his other hand off Caleb to wiggle it menacingly over a defenseless armpit - Essek takes one look at the new threat and screams. “Caleb!”

Kingsley’s replaced his hand with his tail squeezing around Caleb’s thigh, and it tickles so badly and unexpectedly that Caleb would like to curl up in a ball and do some screaming of his own, but with Essek pleading for his help there’s no other choice.

He pulls himself back onto his elbows and flops into Kingsley’s lap as best he can with his legs chained, reaching blindly for ticklish spots that used to belong to Mollymauk - gasping through a new wave of laughter as the spade of Kingsley’s tail starts to poke at the soft back of his knee, he crowds his fingernails against the small of Kingsley’s back and yelps in preemptive terror as Kingsley starts to laugh and reaches for him instead. “Fjord! Jester!” he shouts. “Help!”

“Gah - oh, fuck, thahat’s - haaaa-” Kingsley flails for a moment, legs kicking out as he tries to shimmy away, but in the next moment his fingers are tickling mercilessly under Caleb’s arms and Caleb can hardly breathe, let alone keep tickling him. He flails to escape, trying to wrap his arms around himself and use them to drag himself away at the same time, but really that just means that Kingsley’s hands are stuck in his armpits now and he’s going to die-

“Right, right, I’ve learned my lesson, no ganging up on our little star,” Kingsley grumbles. Caleb gasps in breathless relief as Kingsley works his hands free - he’s facedown on the mattress, but he hears Essek shout for Fjord and Jester too before dissolving into another fit of giggles. Presumably Kingsley’s putting his tail to good use somewhere.

A hand grabs his shoulder, and he’s rolled over onto his back with his legs untwisting beneath him. He blinks up into Kingsley’s gaze, eyebrows raised in apparent dudgeon. “You, on the other hand,” Kingsley growls, as if his lips weren’t curving up into a fanged smile already, “I am absolutely going to need both hands for what I’m about to do to your ribs.”

“Mist,” Caleb sputters reflexively, and then, louder, “Fjord! Jester! FJORD!”

Kingsley’s eyebrows rise even higher. “Oh, it’s sweet that you think they’re going to help you. Unless - oh, did you want more hands?”

Caleb hardly hears the approaching footsteps over his own anticipatory squeal as he watches Kingsley’s fingers start to wander back down towards his ribs. “Nein! - eheeheh, oh gods, nein-”

But then, suddenly, blessedly, the fingers ghost lightly over his ribs and settle for spidering across his tummy instead. He wheezes in relief - half of it comes out as giggles, his nerves still on high alert, but he fully intends to enjoy breathing while he can.

He flops tiredly back, eyes tracking to the doorway as Fjord and Jester stroll in. “Sorry for the wait,” Fjord says politely. “Jester and I were just finishing up lunch. Because it’s lunchtime.”

“No rush, Captain!” Kingsley practically chirps. “We’re having a wonderful time, aren’t we, boys?”

Fjord looks completely unsurprised to find the two of them in chains. Jester is practically bouncing beside him. Caleb imagines this does not bode well for them.

Essek pipes up from behind him, metal clanking as he tries to move to see around Kingsley. “Did - heh - did we oversleep? I think the shackles are a bit uncalled for-”

“Oh,” Fjord says, low and dangerous. He’s not smiling, not yet, but Caleb can see it in his eyes and that is even worse. “Don’t mind those. It would be a shame to let the two of you leave your bedroom so soon when you haven’t seen it in days and days, wouldn’t it?”

With Kingsley still tickling at his waist, Caleb can’t even begin to coax his stomach muscles to let him sit up as Fjord and Jester cross to the bed and loom over the both of them. Jester claps her hands together, looking dangerously pleased with herself. “Do you like them?” she enthuses. “We got them from a pirate raid, because someone put our other set on a fish person that jumped right back into the ocean.”

“They were getting rusted anyway - I don’t think we collected a single one of those at sea, they’re not even waterproofed.” Fjord grumbles amiably. “These, though-”

He hooks one finger delicately through the chain connecting Caleb’s ankles to the bedpost and tugs, dragging one helpless foot just close enough to scoop up in a waiting hand. “Now these are made for some real seafaring shit. Could hold a body for as long as you want, as long as they aren’t inclined to use any magic tricks.”

Caleb tries to yank his foot back. Fjord just chuckles and leans over to stare him down, his yellow eyes warm and amused. “Isn’t that right, Caleb.”

“No magic tricks,” he gasps out through another fit of giggles as Fjord rubs a warning thumb over his sole. It’s hardly a concession - between that and Kingsley, he hardly has the breath to try anything.

“Good,” Fjord says encouragingly. He puts Caleb’s foot gently down and turns to Essek. “Now you.”

Caleb turns to look at him - from what little of Essek’s body language he can read, he looks wholly confused. “You’re not going to let us go?”

Fjord crosses his arms. “Oh, I’m sure we can come to some kind of agreement. Just consider this a friendly reminder that Jester, Kingsley and I are quite capable of following any… magical exits.”

Essek visibly rallies at the mention of magic, quirking an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you had learned how to Teleport.”

“Essek,” Caleb hisses. Fjord shushes him and stalks a single step forward, just close enough to start tickling lightly at the bottom of one purple foot.

Essek’s superior expression lasts all of a moment before his entire body starts flailing to escape the single point of contact. “Ah! No, nohoho, wahahait, I didn’t - ahaha, stop that!”

“You’re right, I can’t Teleport,” Fjord says conversationally. “Good catch, I’d kind of forgotten about that one. Jes, we’ve got some antimagic stuff on the ship, right?”

Jester interrupts herself from making increasingly dramatic faces at Essek to answer. “I think so? You know, just in case if we meet someone icky like you know who.”

“Perfect. Maybe you and Kingsley can keep Essek busy, and I’ll head back to the ship and root around for it?” He looks calmly down at Essek, kicking as frantically as he can with the few inches of leeway the shackles afford him and still completely unable to avoid Fjord’s fingers. “It’ll take a while, mind you.”

Jester perks up, dancing over and reaching for Essek’s other foot. “Yes! Kingsley, did you try his ears yet? They get all flappy and it’s really really-”

“No!” Essek rushes out, squeaking in harried protest when they still don’t stop tickling up his arches. “I - wait,” he pleads. “No! I won’t cast, I won’t!”

Fjord grins. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Alright, Kingsley, can we give them a moment?”

Kingsley removes his hands from both of them rather reluctantly. Fjord claps his shoulder in silent thanks. “Now, would either of you like to explain why we found the two of you half-dead from sleep deprivation?”

“Yeah, you guys, we were so worried!” Jester adds. “You can’t do that when we’re not around to take care of you! You guys haven’t been doing this all year, have you?”

“We’ve only met up in the last few months,” Caleb adds, wincing a little as their eyes turn to him. He sits up slowly, wincing apologetically in the direction of Essek’s wrist shackles. “But no, we have not, we are just working on this project - it is a real ficker, there are so many moving pieces - and we are nearly done, we meant to sleep last night.”

“How many days?” Fjord asks. “One? Two?”

When neither of them answer, sharing a silent look, he hovers a hand threateningly over each of their trapped feet. “Believe me, you really don’t want us to pick a number.”

“Four,” Essek says warily. “But Caleb slept for at least an hour each night, and I don’t need to-”

“Oh, four’s a lot,” Kingsley cuts in. “Did you not learn how to sleep in shifts, not being on the ocean, or do you just enjoy each other’s company that much?”

Essek turns bright red. Caleb’s pretty sure he turns even redder. Even Fjord looks a little embarrassed as Jester and Kingsley collapse into laughter.

Jester sobers quickly, though, pouting insistently down at them.“Four is pret-ty bad, you guys.”

Kingsley nods seriously. Thus validated, she starts bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “I think we need to punish them, Fjord!”

Caleb can easily guess what this punishment will entail. “Wait a moment,” he says hastily, “we have not even told you about this project-”

“It will be worth it,” Essek adds. “If you would just let us-”

Fjord nods thoughtfully, ignoring their protests. “What do you say, a minute for each hour they should have been sleeping?”

“No-” Caleb starts.

“So that’s sixteen for Essek, and - Caleb’s been napping on and off, sounds like, so we’ll round it down to a neat half hour for him.”

Caleb gapes fearfully. A half hour of tickling, after months and months - he can admit to himself that he missed it a little, but- “That’s too much,” he blurts. “Bitte, you’ll kill me-”

“Really, this is unnecessary,” Essek adds, surprisingly dignified for the way he’s trying helplessly to press his feet against the bed. “Just - we are well rested now, we only need a few hours more to finish the project, there is no need!”

Jester pouts. “Oh, Essek, don’t you want to hang out with us?”

Essek flounders at that, and Caleb can’t help the soft smile that slips out of him. “I would like nothing more,” he assures her, “but being chained up and - and tortured - was not quite on my mind-”

“Well then, you shouldn’t have been so dumb, Essek,” she says cheerily. “Caleb, do you want me or Fjord to tickle you?”

His mouth goes dry. Jester will be - Fjord teases, but he is gentle at least, and Jester is - Jester-

He looks over at Essek, wide-eyed and eyes flicking between all of them in some strange combination of bewilderment and anticipation, and braces himself. “Jester.”

Kingsley laughs, delighted. “Oh, he must really love you,” he tells Essek. “He’s gone and given you the better option by far.”

Essek looks at Caleb, gaze softening. “Really?”

Caleb grimaces back at him, a little embarrassed by himself. “He’s exaggerating. And besides, I am not the one laid flat out here.”

Essek frowns. “Yes, about that.”

“Caleb doesn’t like having his wrists pinned down,” Jester says easily, scrambling up onto the bed and into Caleb’s lap. “Though you should know that already if you two are boning-”

“Jester,” Caleb pleads. Kingsley starts to laugh again.

She beams at him, darting in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Hi, Caleb!”

It’s impossible not to smile back. “Hallo, blueberry.”

He looks around her to see Fjord walk over and settle on Essek’s side of the bed, patting his shoulder companionably. “It’s good to see you two, really.”

Essek just sighs.

Kingsley prods at his belly, earning a hasty yelp. “He’s in a mood, it seems. You want some help with him?”

His stomach grumbles, just then, and Fjord laughs. “Why don’t you get some lunch instead,” he suggests. “We’d have brought something up, but the screaming sounded rather urgent.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Kingsley cocks a loose salute and swings back off the bed with one more tickle under each of their arms, snorting in amusement as Caleb and Essek both squirm and protest. “The others should be arriving soon, I’ll keep a weather eye on the door.”

“Yes, do that,” Fjord says, waiting for him to round the corner and start down the stairs. “That guy is really into sea lingo.”

“Kingsley is great,” Jester enthuses. “Don’t you guys think he looks so much prettier now that he’s all tan?”

She’s not wrong. “Ja, sure.” Caleb says. “By the way, what exactly did the two of you tell him about-” He flushes. “About my ribs?”

“Oh, you know, just some stuff!” Jester says cheerfully. “Most of it is definitely not true by now, probably, since it’s been a super long time since we’ve seen you.”

She puts both of her hands on Caleb’s shoulders and presses, sending him flat on his back and leaning over with a mischievous smile. “Good thing we have a whole half hour to catch up, huh?”

Caleb gulps.

[ohmightydevviepuu]

writers month prompts

day twenty-six:  scream

(follow the complete story, try / cry / why? (just a dream) as it posts daily or on AO3)

–

“You chose her,” Cora intoned. “And the consequences of that decision.” (2B canon divergence wherein Emma and Killian deal with the consequences.)

The darkness threatens.

Pain without honor or end and the sacrifice of everything he has ever claimed to value.

He’s never known death---for all that he has played it cat-and-mouse these many, many years---knows this is not what it would be like to die: blackness. Everything for nothing; there is only anger and hatred and grief.

The darkness threatens and it is his habit, his practice, to give way to its demands, but.

But.

(In the distance, there is a light. A flicker of fire, a misty lighthouse along the shoals.)

He can only assume that Cora has done this, too---taken his imaginings, his fears and his fantasies, and twisted them as she has twisted him.

(A vision---a burst of light and hope unlike anything he has experienced in his centuries of life.)

(There is silver magic around him. A whisper against his senses.)

A swath of moonlight burns bright in the dark empty place and that’s when he can see her, an imperfect fairy tale.

(A dream come true.)

(Or a nightmare.)

(The woman---if that is what she is---is not Milah; he wonders if, perhaps, this is hell after all.)

He reaches for the light, lets it call to him, a siren’s song as suddenly familiar to him as the sound of ocean waves.

(Or maybe this is absolution; to be taken, storm-tossed and half-drowned, from the ocean to the flame.)

(To awaken, forever changed, and make his way upon an uncharted continent.)

He reaches until it ignites, a blaze of flint on steel; the silver woman who is not Milah reaches for him and he reaches back, instinct and hunger and want overcoming.

(It---she---feels real. And right.)

(This is the horror---to let himself want.)

(But a man who refuses to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.)

He can feel her through the pain and it is as if he is looking into the past and the future at the same time and knowing he has the chance to lose it all.

Again.

(Killian. Come back to me.)

(Each step a promise and a betrayal.)

One step. Another.

He does not fear the fire. He yearns for it.

(But hope is such a dangerous thing.)

The sound of the phone yanks her awake, his name on her lips, the taste of the syllables on her tongue.

(Killian. Come back to me.)

Emma blinks stupidly at the phone screen lit up in the dark with its intimidating number of text messages looming in the tiny red bubble.

Mary Margaret.

Regina.

Ruby.

Her finger hovers over the touch screen before she heaves a sigh and clicks on her mother’s name.

I choose to see the best in Regina. She’s trying to change. For Henry.

(Her finger trembling as she swipes it right. Delete.)

(Delete.)

Ruby’s keep coming, though.

*It’s like I’m your assistant all over again!

Ruby Lucas, intrepid girl detective.

No, undercover girl detective!*

The battery’s running down and so is her patience but one last text is all she needs. A ‘sniff’.

Finally: He’s here. And I have the Package.

Emma bites down a small scream.

Finally, some good news.

--

@spartanguard @optomisticgirl @shireness-says @profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @katie-dub @mariakov81 @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree 

[xiao-cafe]

drabble game — prompt 61

pairing: kaeya x gn!reader

tags: fluff, delirious confessions

prompt: “i told you not to fall in love with me”

wc: 1.8k

notes: please be patient with the characterization of the reader in this fic! also thank you to @genshin-ficpact​ for requesting this ^^

It was a bad idea to follow a certain cavalry captain to Dragonspine.

Anyone with a brain would’ve declined the captain’s offer to hike up the mountain but you were simply someone eager to prove yourself and also spend more time with your crush.

“How are you holding up?” Kaeya asked, turning his head to check on you as the both of you slowly made your way to the campsite where the both of you would spend the night.

“I’m… fine.” You managed to get out as you lifted your stiff legs from the snow and took another step forward. Your coat was heavy on your shoulders but you paid no mind and continued on with shaky breaths.

It was extremely cold so high up and you were beginning to feel a little unwell but stubbornness kept you from giving up especially when Kaeya looked as if he was worried about you. The man was frowning despite keeping an easy-going smile on his lips, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you.

The only thing that kept you from hating the cold altogether was its ability to keep your face flushed so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of Kaeya. You let out a groan as Kaeya took another step further, gesturing for you to follow him.

“We’re almost at Albedo’s campsite. Here, hold my hand.” Kaeya held his hand out towards you, a smirk on his face as he watched you struggle to climb up the last few steps to where he was.

You gripped the captain’s hand tightly and allowed him to lead you the rest of the way while you focused on moving forward and how warm it suddenly became to have your hand in his.

“We’re here,” Kaeya announced, misty exhale floated in the air and you had never felt happier to see a campfire in your entire life.

“Thank god, my legs are about to give out.” You groaned, letting go of Kaeya’s hands before stumbling towards the fire and dropping to your knees before it.

Kaeya’s mirthful laugh echoed throughout Albedo’s campsite which was pretty much a hole-in-the-wall, but it was warm.

“How nice of Albedo to leave the fire going for us,” Kaeya stated as he plopped down next to you, his hand brushing across yours briefly.

You suppressed the urge to yelp just as the contact sent a shiver running down your spine.

“Are you still cold?” Kaeya asked, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at you. His ponytail curled around his neck, revealing only the slightest bit of tan skin under the thick garments which protected him from the cold.

You tried your best to ignore his cool gaze on you and instead focused on warming your hands by the fire. “I’m f-fine,” You told him, “Where’s Albedo anyways?”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him your trembles were because of him rather than the cold.

“Not sure, but he probably won’t be coming back soon.” Kaeya mused, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Why’s that?”

“I suspect he just didn’t want to intrude… on us,” Kaeya stated calmly. Amusement danced in his eye as he observed realization dawn on you and you ducked your head down in embarrassment.

“But don’t worry, I would never do anything of that sort to you.” The man laughed, ruffling your hair as you stared at him with wide eyes.

It stung to hear an indirect rejection from Kaeya but to avoid looking childish you bottled your feelings up and gave Kaeya what you hoped was a convincing smirk.

“And if I fall in love with you?” You probed him with the question, ignoring the warning bells going off in your head that you would regret asking him that.

“You shouldn’t.” Kaeya answered almost immediately, “It won’t end well.”

His cryptic answers left you on edge but you decided it was best to drop the matter before you broke your own heart further.

Night fell and soon you and Kaeya were preparing to get some rest before the both of you set out again in the morning.

Having had a hearty dinner using the leftover ingredients in Albedo’s camp, both of you were full-bellied and tired from the long day.

The sleeping arrangements as set up by Kaeya was simple, you’d sleep in the warmest corner of the campsite where it was also the safest and he’d sleep a good distance away to protect you.

To say the least, you were disappointed.

You had hoped to be able to snuggle up against him, using the frigid cold of the night as an excuse and to also finally get him to see you as you were. Not a kid that he has to keep an eye on but an adult, who has been in love with him for years.

“Alright, light’s out,” Kaeya announced with a clap, a satisfied expression on his face.

“I’ve always wanted to try saying that.” He chuckled upon seeing your face scrunch up in distaste.

“I’m not a child, Kaeya.” You reminded him as you slipped into your sleeping bag.

“Yet, I still have to protect this youngster who had stupidly- I mean, bravely followed me to Dragonspine.” He said while slipping into his own sleeping bag.

You rolled your eyes at the cavalry captain and began to wriggle about, attempting to find a comfortable position to sleep in.

“You look like a worm.”

You let out an exasperated sigh but a smile still lingered on your lips as you turned to face Kaeya so that you could give him a biting retort.

“And you don’t?”

You clicked your tongue as Kaeya shrugged nonchalantly and rolled onto his back.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He said with a yawn.

You hummed a response, sleep weighing heavily on your eyelids.

You weren’t sure how it came to be but your body felt hot and cold at the same time as you awoke to Kaeya pressing his palm to your forehead.

With bleary eyes, you watched as Kaeya loomed over you with a panicked expression, unaware that you had woken up.

“Kaeya?”

Your voice was weak and soft, you barely had the energy to talk but seeing Kaeya so distraught made you want to comfort him.

“Shh, you’re sick. You need to rest.” He said, gently brushing your hair out of your face.

No wonder you felt so terrible. Your immune system simply couldn’t keep up and now you were sick.

Your lower lip trembled as tears welled up in your eyes, you felt guilty for falling sick and causing trouble for Kaeya.

“Kaeya, I’m sorry.” You murmured.

The man was quick to respond as he wiped away your tears with his thumb.

“Don’t be. And please don’t cry.”

Perhaps it was the sickness that messed with your mind but you felt like hugging Kaeya after seeing a frown marring his beautiful face.

With all the strength you had left in you, you pushed yourself up and almost fell back down but Kaeya was there to support you, his hands holding onto your torso steadily.

“Why are you getting up? Go back to sleep.” The captain hissed.

But you shook your head determinedly and latched yourself onto him, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

“I want to hug you.” You started slowly, each syllable leaving your mouth with great effort. Kaeya smelled nice and he was also warm, so you pressed your face into his chest, basking in the feeling.

“Kaeya… Why is your heart beating so fast?”

Upon hearing your question, the man’s heart began to beat faster and you looked up at him, peering to see what was wrong with him.

“It’s nothing.” He said coolly, his eyes narrowed as your hands began to wander, pushing his shirt up and slipping under the fabric.

“It’s cold, you’re warm.” You murmured as you pressed your hands against the hard planes of his stomach. Despite owning a Cryo Vision, Kaeya was always warm to the touch and you were now appreciating the heat that emanated from his body.

“Jean’s going to kill me,” Kaeya muttered, his hands hovered above your head, reluctant to push you away especially since you were clinging onto him like no tomorrow. The captain blushed heavily as he tried to persuade you to return to your sleeping bag, “Come on, Y/N. I’m sure the sleeping bag will be warmer than me.”

Ignoring Kaeya, you continued to babble about how warm he was, letting the fever take full control over your lips until you accidentally let slip a secret.

“Kaeya, I like you.”

There was an undeniable hitch in Kaeya’s breathing as he stared at you incredulously. The initial shock of being confessed to died down rather quickly and Kaeya was back to being… Well, Kaeya.

The man easily pushed you down onto the ground, his hands wrapping around your wrists to hold you down as he stared down at you, an almost pained expression on his face.

“I told you not to fall in love with me.”

But how could you not?

Your lips moved on their own accord and you parroted your own thoughts, delirious about the situation you were currently in.

“How could I not?” You questioned him, tongue darting out to lick your chapped lips.

Kaeya let out a sigh from above you and dropped his head in defeat.

“I hope you’re prepared for the consequences of loving someone like me.” He warned, “This is your last chance to back out.”

You knew that Kaeya was only trying to scare you away, his face twisted into one that would’ve scared anyone away but you were out of your mind so his threats slid past you like water on a sheet of glass.

“I’m never backing out.” You blurted out, your mind clearing for a brief moment as blood rushed to your cheeks, turning them a shade of rosy red.

“Very well.” His voice was a soft whisper but his words reached your ears.

You grinned widely up at him, unable to contain your joy. Kaeya chuckled softly and let go of your wrists, unpinning you.

“Kaeya can you stay next to me?” You asked him, holding onto his sleeve.

“Of course.”

As joy bloomed in your chest, you were beginning to feel sleepy again. The last thing you remembered was Kaeya tucking you into your sleeping bag and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You awoke the next morning, feeling better but warmer than usual. At first, you had thought that you were still feverish but the sound of Kaeya’s morning rasp right in your ear told you otherwise.

“Good morning.” He chirped.

Hazy memories of the night before filled your head and you curled in on yourself in an attempt to hide. You had confessed last night and even harassed him by putting your hands up his shirt.

Your face burned even more as Kaeya laughed. His deep voice sent tingles down your spine and raised goosebumps on your skin.

“Did you forget what happened last night?” Kaeya asked suggestively as he poked you.

Shyly, you uncurled yourself to peek at Kaeya. The man laid beside you, looking not the least bit bothered as he twiddled his fingers at you in greeting.

“Don’t be so shy now, you promised to not back down didn’t you?”

end.

[carewyncromwell]

Judging by this picture of what looks like a stained glass slipper, I’d say we’re about to continue the Cinderella AU!

One of the best ways to deal with an anxiety attack is to ground oneself in the present situation. A common technique is the 54321 Method, which Carewyn doesn’t display here, but she does end up (without realizing it) evoking the idea of grounding by accenting her physical presence and encouraging Orion to take deep breaths. 

All of the lines Orion spouts while Carewyn runs away are ones the Prince in Disney’s animated version of Cinderella cries, when his mysterious lady love runs from him. It amuses me to no end how in so many magical Cinderella adaptations, it takes whole minutes for the clock to strike twelve -- in the case of the animated/live action Disney versions, so many that we even get a full chase scene for the pumpkin coach in that time. 😂

Trigger warning for a brief mention of suicidal thoughts. 

Previous part is here -- whole tag is here -- Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee -- and I hope you all enjoy!

x~x~x~x

Orion led Carewyn down the hall at a run, unable to break free of the happy adrenaline that pulsed through him. Some people in the hall outside the ballroom eyed the young king and his enchantingly striking partner curiously as they passed, but neither of the two paid them much mind. Orion rounded a corner with Carewyn, passing a large gold-trimmed grandfather clock as it tolled 11. Once they’d gotten around the corner, he opened a wall and pulled her into the secret passage behind it, out of sight from anyone who might pursue them. 

Once through the passage, Orion dashed up a flight of stairs with Carewyn, up, up, up, toward the upper levels. At last, when they reached the top of the stairs, he opened another passage, which opened up onto the landing of the battlements on the top floor of Florence’s castle. 

The cold winter wind gushed around them, tiny traces of snowflakes trailing through the air as Carewyn and Orion stepped out. As soon as they were outside, Carewyn gave a start at the odd smell that touched her nose. Curious, she moved out to the edge of the ramparts -- and she gasped.

The sea. 

The odd smell was the salt of the spray from the Southern Sea, only a few miles from the back of Florence’s palace. It was so dark out that Carewyn could hardly see the lightless buildings between the palace and sea, and yet she could still make out the ethereal white sea foam in its grayish black depths. Its waves rushed at the shore, sounding like some kind of resonating whisper that never needed extra breath to sustain itself, and its growing and shrinking waves sparkled in the moonlight. 

Carewyn exhaled, her lips spread into a wide open smile of awe. Orion came up behind her, watching her. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” 

Carewyn couldn’t take her eyes off of it. “It’s...it’s breathtaking.”

Orion slowly approached her, his eyes trailing along her shoulder and down her back with an oddly unreadable look. Once he’d come up just behind her, he very slowly extended a hand. It lingered uncertainly in mid-air for a moment, before it tentatively made contact with her back, exposed by the cut of her dress.

Carewyn flinched, unable to hold back a gasp of both surprise and pain. Orion pulled his hand away at once.

“Forgive me,” he said. His voice betrayed some anxiety.

Carewyn looked at him. Orion’s unflappable face had lost a lot of its color under his mask and his black eyes flickered the way her white horse’s would when it was nervous. 

“I can't see any injuries,” he explained, “but I can feel them there all the same.”

His eyes narrowed a bit upon her face.

“...Who...who delivered those lashes to your back?”

Carewyn’s blue eyes rippled with sorrow. “Orion -- ”

“Who?” Orion asked again. His voice was tenser than she’d ever heard it. 

Carewyn couldn’t look him in the eye. She tore her gaze away, looking out toward the sea again as she clutched the railing with both hands. 

“...My grandfather,” she said at last, very softly. “I...‘acted inappropriately.’”

Orion did not respond. The silence dragged, to the point that it had become deafening. When Carewyn finally felt brave enough to look back over at Orion, she saw that he’d migrated to the railing himself a short ways away, clasping his hands very tightly together as he looked out at the sea. His head was bowed, his face largely obscured by the darkness, but he was taking very deep, heavy breaths. 

Carewyn’s heart clenched. She moved to him, bringing a hand to rest on his shoulder. 

“Orion, I’m -- ”

“Don’t say you’re all right.”

Orion’s voice was very soft, but harder than Carewyn had ever heard it before. It made her stiffen, her grip on his shoulder faltering -- her partial withdrawal seemed to affect Orion, making him whirl around and seize her hand in both of his, as if desperate to keep her close. 

“A whip is a tool only used to cause pain -- a tool with no other use besides that,” he said. He spoke in a faster, tenser voice than normal: one that, although misty as ever, was turbulent in a way Carewyn had never heard. “Therefore it can never be used to spark any good in this world. It leaves scars that never heal -- that designate you as subhuman and your suffering as insignificant -- that make people cringe at the sight of them, wondering what crime you’ve committed or what lowly status you must be, to have earned them, when truly it says more about the person who inflicted them on you than it ever could you -- ”

“Orion...” Carewyn whispered.

Orion’s eyes were flashing with an odd emotion, one hard and blazing like a flame under a shell of hard black diamond. It took Carewyn a moment to realize it was anger. 

“You’re so strong,” he said, his shaking voice very hushed and rambling even as his breathing grew more irregular. “You’ve always been so resilient, and I don’t want to demean that, but -- but you shouldn’t have to be that strong! You shouldn’t have to downplay the suffering you’ve gone through! You shouldn’t have to stay locked in the dragon’s keep and endure, and I shouldn’t have -- ”

He choked. His black eyes pulsed with emotion as he clutched more desperately at her hand and he gasped for air. 

“ -- I never should’ve left you to him! I should’ve taken you away, far away, regardless of what you told me, regardless of the consequences, regardless of what your family or our countries or anyone else might do or say -- ”

“Orion!”

Carewyn pulled her hand out of his and brought both of her hands up to his face, cradling his cheeks. Orion trembled in her hold, breathing very heavily and his hands clutching at the air in front of him. 

“Orion,” she whispered, “shhh...shh, shh...”

She moved in, placing her forehead against his.

“Breathe,” she said as gently as she could, slowing her breath and speech down to try to  subconsciously encourage him to follow suit. “Breathe...I’m here...I’m here...”

Orion inhaled and exhaled shakily. At first his eyes were locked on hers, flaring with more of that anger, anguish, and anxiety -- then they fluttered shut, and he threw his arms out to wrap both of them around her, cradling her against him with his arms crossed over her back and clutching at her shoulders. He breathed in and out deeply, trying to follow her rhythm as he focused on the softness of her skin and the warmth of her voice. 

Finally, after a few minutes, Orion had finally regained his center of balance, his breathing softening and returning to a normal rate. He exhaled heavily through his nose, opening his eyes again to look at her. 

Carewyn offered him a weak smile, both feeling relieved that he looked better and wanting to comfort him, but Orion’s face -- although once again calm -- still looked very grim as he pulled back only just enough that their foreheads were no longer touching. His gaze trailed over her smile and then around her eyes, dipping into the corners. 

“Can you ever forgive me?” he murmured. 

“Forgive you?” repeated Carewyn, upset. “For what?”

“Everything. For not fighting for you, for not being able to help you fight off your beast, as I promised...for being the son of the man who led the army who killed your brother...”

“Orion,” Carewyn said very firmly, “your father had no hand in Jacob’s death. He died long before he ever saw battle. And I told you to go. It’s a good thing you did. If you hadn’t gone, then you wouldn’t have been able to convince the King and Queen to come here, to consider peace...”

She trailed her thumbs gently along his cheeks. 

“I should be the one apologizing to you. I should’ve told you what I really was a lot sooner.”

“I don’t think you lied anymore than I did, my lady,” Orion said rather coolly. 

“It’s not the same thing,” Carewyn insisted. “Every lie you told you told so that you could pursue diplomacy and peace. Every lie I told...I told out of shame. I’d only pretended to be a lady to help get you out of trouble, at the start, but then afterwards...well...I didn’t want you to look at me differently...even though I knew deep down you would, once you learned the truth.”

Orion reached out his hands and, mirroring Carewyn, took hold of her face tentatively in return. 

“You’re right,” said Orion. “I do see you differently.”

He leaned in, touching her forehead with his again. 

“Before, I merely saw you as a wonderful contradiction -- a lady who was born to a family of wealth and cruelty and yet was kind and selfless almost to a fault. Now...I see you as akin to a diamond: a sparkling, precious gem, fashioned only under the hardest, most unforgiving pressure and more resilient than nearly anything else on Earth.”

Orion moved in even closer, so that their noses touched.

“A gem symbolic of purity and light...of perfection itself,” he murmured.

His gaze flitted from her eyes to her lips and back. Although he’d moved in close enough to kiss her, however, he hesitated. 

Carewyn could sense his intent, and her cheeks darkened with a blush as her gaze fell down to his lips. 

“I hardly think I’m perfect, your Grace.”

Orion sighed, his lips spreading into a slightly tired smile. “Your standards truly are exhausting, my lady. If you cannot meet them, I know that I surely never will...”

He made as if to pull back, but Carewyn held his face in place. Her eyes met his again, rippling with an intensity they didn’t have before. 

“You needn’t worry about meeting my standards, Orion Cosimo Amari,” she said softly. “You clear them...easily.”

And before Orion knew what was happening, she’d leaned in and placed her lips up to his jawline in a tender, lingering kiss.

She pulled back after about five seconds, her eyes shining warmly up at him despite the seriousness of her face. 

“I cannot stay,” she murmured, “but -- ”

Before she could say another word, Orion -- his black eyes shining with a desperate kind of longing -- tilted her head up and swooped down to cover her lips with his own. His breathing through his nose was soft but heated as he cradled her face in both of his hands, cherishing the feeling of her lips on his and being enveloped in her arms. 

He broke the kiss after about thirty seconds, his black eyes half-lidded on her face.

“Carewyn, I...”

Carewyn briefly rested her forehead against his, her own face tinged with a warm flush under her robin mask, before reluctantly pulling back.

“I can’t stay,” she repeated even more gently. “The illusion the Baroness gave me will fade at midnight -- so just...just stay here. Away from the ballroom. At least until after midnight...by then, the spell Rakepick cast on you will have worn off.”

Orion’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“When the lady dressed as a lioness ‘mistook me for someone else,’” he said slowly, “she’d placed a spell circle on my back. Is that so?”

Carewyn nodded. “The spell’s terms were that you’d be targeted by every weapon in the ballroom. So long as you don’t return there until after midnight...you’ll be safe.”

“But I was there with you before, and I was not harmed,” said Orion with a frown.

“The spell can only affect you. Jae guessed that if anyone else would get hurt when the weapons attacked you, then the spell wouldn’t activate...so he and his comrades, and Talbott and Badeea, they served as human shields...”

“...As did you,” Orion whispered, his eyes widening in realization. “When you kept stepping in front of me and staying close to me, while we were dancing...you were protecting me.”

Carewyn offered a rather self-effacing smile. Orion’s hands quickly returned to the sides of her neck, cradling her jawline. 

“Carewyn....” he said, his calm voice touched with both adoration and the slightest edge of anxiety, “you saved my life. All while not knowing for certain that you throwing yourself in front of me wouldn’t result in you being harmed...”

“Well, I certainly hoped I wouldn’t be,” said Carewyn, attempting dry humor. “I couldn’t exactly make sure that Lord Malfoy and my grandfather wouldn’t hurt you if I’d died...”

Seeing the look on Orion’s face, she then became much more serious.

“Orion...after I learned the truth about Jacob...when I was back at the Cromwell estate...I lost myself. I lost my drive, my spirit...my reason for living. Everything I was, and everything I thought I knew, both about myself and about the path I’ve always walked.”

Her eyes fell down to Orion’s shoulder, becoming darker.

“Knowing that Jacob, the only thing in my life that gave me a reason to keep fighting and keep enduring, was dead...I lost all will to live. I didn’t just feel like I deserved to die...I actually wanted to. I deluded myself into thinking that at least then, the pain would stop. At least then...I could be with Jacob and Mum again.”

Her lips then spread into the saddest, softest smile. 

“...But when your note arrived...when I read your words, reminding me of the song you taught me...even after all of the lies, even after I pushed you away, even though you were set to be crowned King and I’d never see you again...it reminded me of how much joy I’ve known, even without Jacob there with me. The memory of you, and my friends, helped pull me out of that despair. And then when I found out what Grandfather wanted to do to you -- found out that he planned to destroy you and everything you’d ever dreamed of, for Florence and Royaume...I couldn’t do nothing, I just couldn’t.”

Her eyes gained a stronger, more passionate glint as she met his again. 

“You saved my life, Orion. You helped me fight my beast, just like you promised. You gave me hope when I was most ready to throw everything away.”

Orion’s black eyes were very wide upon her face. As he stared at her, his eyes softened, melting in a strange blend of sadness, affection, and pride. 

“Carewyn...”

Carewyn leaned in to kiss him chastely on the lips. 

“I know it’d be impossible for us to make a life together,” she said seriously, “but I told you I’d fight for you...and I always will.”

Orion considered her for a long moment. Carewyn found herself straining to hear any sound from below -- any marking of the time -- it had been 11, before they’d headed upstairs --

“I must go,” she said yet again.

But when she made as if to leave, Orion clutched her hands in his.

“Please,” he implored her, “stay.”

“I can’t,” said Carewyn. 

“You will be safe here in Florence. I wouldn’t allow Charles Cromwell to get within ten feet of you again -- ”

“Grandfather can’t know I’ve been here,” Carewyn said very firmly. “The King and Queen of Royaume have treated him as a confidante for years -- he’s invested a lot of money to make sure they rely on him. As long as our family’s money and status are intact -- as long as Grandfather’s place at their side is intact -- he will have their ear, and they will trust his word. And I know Grandfather will use every penny he has to sabotage your efforts for peace, until his dying breath. Imagine how he’d twist you ‘kidnapping’ his precious granddaughter and turning her against her own family. Don’t forget: the last time Florence harbored a fugitive from Royaume, we got a War that’s lasted fifty years.”

Her eyes narrowed. 

“So...I must return to Royaume. I must make sure that the King and Queen have no idea that Bill and the others helped me get here with one of their coaches without their permission. I must make sure that Grandfather has no idea I was ever here.”

Orion’s face was full of pain as he squeezed her hands. “Carewyn, I can’t let you return to him -- ”

“I won’t,” said Carewyn. Her lips spread into a smile. “Don’t you understand? You gave me my life. The Baroness and Talbott broke me out of my tower, and I’m never going back. As far as Grandfather will know...I simply escaped while he and my family were away.”

Orion’s eyes widened. Then they softened visibly. “...Just as KC and Bill Weasley originally planned.”

Carewyn beamed. “And just as my mother did, before me. It might not be easy for me to be on my own, but I know I’ll find a place somewhere, to make my own way. And maybe when you and King Henri are able to make peace...I’ll be able to find my way back to you again.”

Orion’s black eyes melted, gaining a proud warmth. In a spontaneous move, he swept in again and kissed her fully, heatedly. Carewyn brought a hand up to the back of his head, cradling the base of it under his ponytail -- after a wonderful, soft moment, she used the grip to gently break the kiss. 

Orion smiled almost shyly. 

“Forgive me,” he said. “In that moment, you just looked so beautiful.”

Carewyn raised an eyebrow. “I'm under an illusion, Orion.”

Orion shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. However surreal your appearance is, your eyes blazed with such courage...like a wild stallion, fearlessly running through an open field with no fences.”

He kissed her again, more chastely. 

“It was stunning.”

Carewyn smiled through a dark blush, her eyes closing modestly. 

“...How do I look to you, exactly?” she couldn’t help but ask. 

Orion beamed, his black eyes sparkling under his magpie mask. “Like Artemis.”

Carewyn blinked in surprise. 

“Shining white hair, a smile kissed by mischief...paler than the moon, with eyes that shine like stars.” Orion’s grin broadened. “You look how I always imagined the goddess Artemis to look, when I heard the tale of her and the hunter Orion as a boy.”

Carewyn’s lips spread into a broader, emotional smile. Somewhere down below, she just barely caught the sound of a bell, and her smile flickered and died at once. She immediately bolted for the door to the secret passage, but Orion stopped her again.

“11:45, my lady,” he said soothingly. 

“It took us a good ten minutes to get up here,” said Carewyn. “I must go now -- ”

“Then we’ll go back together.”

He took her hand and followed along behind as she ran back down the stairs of the secret passage, back toward the ground floor. Despite herself, Carewyn kept trying to shake him off. 

“Orion, you should stay here -- I can make it back to the ballroom by myself -- ”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Grandfather and Lord Malfoy will be looking for you -- if you stay here, in this passage, they probably won’t find you -- ”

“Probably.”

Even with his placid agreements, he remained at her side. Once they reached the end of the passage, Carewyn whirled on him, putting her hands up to his chest to stop him. 

“I must go on alone from here,” she said very firmly.

“Must you?” asked Orion. 

“It’s nearly midnight...just wait until the twelfth strike, and you’ll be safe -- ”

“And yet you will not be, if you’re still here,” Orion said very solemnly. “I can’t let Charles Cromwell or Lord Malfoy stop you from leaving -- they’ll know it was you, who kept me from the ballroom...”

“Orion, there’s no time!” said Carewyn anxiously. “The only way I can get back to the coach in time is through the ballroom. I won’t be able to shield you -- if you enter the ballroom before midnight, you’ll die.”

Orion’s eyes had grown very small and dark with thought. Then, little by little, they lit up with an idea. 

“Carewyn,” he said seriously, “run away from me.”

Carewyn’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“Run away, when I pursue you. No matter what I say or do, while I chase you...no matter what happens, just keep running for the carriage. Ride back to Royaume, and don’t look back.”

His black eyes were very serious. 

“Promise me.”

Carewyn was stricken. Her face had lost a lot of its color as she clutched the front of his white-feathered doublet. 

“No! No, I can’t -- ”

“It will be all right, Carewyn,” Orion soothed her. 

“It can’t be all right!” she argued. “If you follow me, you’ll die -- !”

“The weapons in the ballroom will target me, yes,” said Orion. “But I’ll have a keen eye open for them, and I shall dodge them...just as you helped me dodge them before.”

“You can’t possibly dodge them all, even if Jae and the others are still in there!” Carewyn was beside herself, her hands clasping desperately at his chest. “Orion, I can’t let you -- ”

“It must be done, Carewyn,” whispered Orion gently. 

“Orion, I can’t lose you!” Carewyn implored him. Her eyes were flooding with tears. “Orion, please -- I can’t -- ”

Orion, mirroring a gesture Carewyn had used before, clutched the back of her head, cradling it gently, and he placed a tender kiss to the crook of her neck. 

“It will be all right, Carewyn,” he murmured against her skin. “Trust me.”

Carewyn felt sick. She knew every second she hesitated was one less than she needed to get back to the coach, where Bill, Charlie, Talbott, and Badeea were no doubt waiting, and yet her fear for Orion’s safety threatened her very stability. She’d done everything she could to try to protect him, the way she couldn’t for Jacob -- if she lost him too, she didn’t know what she’d do...

She looked into his gentle, calm eyes, vainly trying to fight back her tears. Despite the painful lump in her throat and the clenching of her heart, she saw the lack of fear in his features -- the man who, not long ago, had been so anxious he could hardly breathe was absolutely fearless in the face of Death. 

Carewyn Cromwell didn’t trust anyone. She’d never had faith in anyone...not since she’d lost Jacob and been enslaved to Charles Cromwell, a man who trusted and believed in no one but himself...

And yet in this moment -- as impossible as she knew it would be for her to do -- she knew she had to try. 

And so, her eyes streaming with tears, she swept in and kissed Orion fully. She caressed his face, trailing a hand through the bangs under his coronet, as he clutched the back of her head tenderly. 

After a minute, they broke apart, and Carewyn pushed open the door of the secret passage, dashing back out into the hallway, straight for the ballroom. After giving her a minute’s head start, Orion started his pursuit, calling after her. 

“No, wait -- come back!”

Following Orion’s instructions, Carewyn didn’t stop. She ran down the hall, right through a crowd of people and back toward the ballroom, as he chased after her. 

“Please come back!”

Orion’s voice sounded odd in Carewyn’s ears. Such words would normally have sounded tense, breathier, anxious -- but instead, every word rang out very clearly. 

As Carewyn made her first step into the ballroom, she couldn’t stop herself from looking back. Seeing her hesitation, Orion raised his voice.

“I don’t even know your name -- how will I find you?”

The completely out-of-character sentence shocked Carewyn back to her senses. 

This was an act. This was a ploy -- another lie, for them to get them to their goal. He wanted everyone to hear him. He wanted to make it sound like he didn’t know who she was, but that he didn’t want her to leave, like he was trying to stop her from going. Carewyn just wasn’t sure exactly why...

In that moment, however, she knew that didn’t matter. And so she ran, even despite the fear thumping in her chest. She could see Jae pushing through the crowd, trying to reach Orion’s side -- from the other side of the ballroom came Barnaby and Tulip. 

As Orion dashed through the ballroom, Carewyn could see many figures all over the room stiffening abruptly, their eyes glowing red as they faced Orion. Her heart seized up with terror as she ran, looking back constantly despite herself.

Jae, please -- please, reach him -- !

BANG. 

The first gunshot came from the far left side of the ballroom, fired from one of Royaume’s lesser lord’s pistols. Orion was able to dodge it by ducking around a pillar. 

As the ballroom devolved into terrified screams and Jae and the other bandits tried to hold off and overpower as many of the armed Royaumanian lords and ladies as possible, more gunshots rang out from other sides of the room. 

BANG. BANG. BANG. 

Orion dodged both the gunshots and the fleeing masses with artful grace by sliding underneath the refreshment table, his eyes returning to Carewyn.

“Wait! Please, wait!”

Carewyn’s heart clenched at the sight of Orion avoiding the shots. Once again, he proved himself to be so much more than he first appeared --

Still, though, he was catching up -- and, Carewyn realized, the faster she could get across the ballroom, the faster she could get Orion out of harm’s way. 

And so she pushed through the crowd, running as fast as she could. She pushed right past KC and McNully, both of whom gave her confused looks, but nonetheless seemed to have caught on. Thanks to Jae, they were enough in the loop to know Orion was in trouble, and although they didn’t understand Orion’s ploy, they knew better than to prevent Carewyn from leaving. 

BANG. BANG. 

As people ran to try to avoid the gunshots that would never have hit them anyway, Carewyn tried desperately not to look back. She couldn’t afford that hesitation. 

I can’t let him die -- I can’t -- 

“Halt!”

In the midst of all the mayhem, someone seized Carewyn’s arm, yanking her back. Carewyn whirled around, her face losing all of its color at the sight of white-blond-haired, albino-peacock-dressed Lord Malfoy. 

“His Majesty ordered you to stop,” he said in a very dangerous voice, his gray eyes flaring with loathing. 

Carewyn’s heart flared with terror and she wrenched against Lord Malfoy’s grip, desperately trying to get free. 

“Let go! Let me go!”

Orion, seeing Carewyn’s distress, tried to dash over. Unfortunately his distraction had caused him to ignore his surroundings.

“NO!” screamed Andre. 

It was only thanks to the Prince of Royaume that King Henri’s ceremonial blade was not plunged through Orion’s chest. Instead it slashed his side, causing him to hunch in on himself with a sharp hiss of pain.

Orion getting injured, even superficially, made Carewyn’s eyes lose all of their light. 

“NO!” she screamed. “NO!”

And to make matters worse, somewhere underneath the sound of panicked screaming, there was a terrible BONG of a clock tolling the hour.

It was midnight. 

Carewyn lashed out against Lord Malfoy’s grip, but he held fast, his teeth bared. 

“A lady with the ability to enchant a King enough to lead him to his doom,” he hissed, as the clock made its second strike. “Clearly you are behind this conspiracy -- ”

BONG. Carewyn could feel her face tingling, and she fought harder against his grip. As Malfoy glared down at her, his eyes seemed to slowly widen -- the illusion around her face was flickering like a candle, making her real hair and eye color at points easier to see.

“What...?”

BAM. 

Out of nowhere, Bill Weasley -- his face obscured by his antler-decorated stag mask -- had appeared and punched Lord Malfoy right in the face. The strike was so strong that it knocked him completely off his feet and forced him to let go of Carewyn. 

Andre had successfully put the King of Royaume in a headlock to restrain him. Erika, who KC and McNully had both flagged so as to prevent her from being affected too, pulled out her own ceremonial sword to forcibly disarm the King. As King Henri blinked rapidly and shook his head, Erika shouted at Orion over her shoulder as loudly as she could over the fifth stroke of midnight. 

“Get out of here, King Cosimo!” 

Orion, his hand sliding off of his side, turned his focus back to Carewyn and plowed after her just as before. 

“Wait!” he cried again, echoing his earlier sentiment as if nothing had happened. 

Bill grabbed hold of Carewyn. “We can’t wait -- the Cromwells already left, but Malfoy and Rakepick -- ”

“I know!” said Carewyn, her voice fiercer than she meant. “Come on!”

Carewyn broke back out into a run out of the ballroom, Bill at her heels. Bill pushed and shoved their way through the hallway full of people, clearing a path for Carewyn as the clock struck eight. 

Despite the shallow wound to his chest, Orion kept running after them, continuing to play his ruse. Lord Malfoy, having recovered from Bill’s punch at last, likewise tried to pursue, but before long he found himself circumvented by Skye not-so-subtly tackling him to the ground. 

“Don’t want you getting shot, Lord Malfoy,” she said in a voice that clearly communicated that she wouldn’t have minded one bit if he had been. 

Bill and Carewyn finally made it out the front doors to the top of the grand stairs when the clock struck ten. It was also there that they were halted again, this time by Rakepick stepping on the wide skirt of Carewyn’s gown. The movement made Carewyn lose her footing, making one of her stained glass slippers come off as she stumbled down the stairs. Rakepick then took advantage of her disturbed balance to grab her by the wrist and hoist her back up onto her feet. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” said Rakepick, her voice dripping with disdain. 

Carewyn brought a hand up as if to smack her, only for it to be caught too. Bill halted and backtracked back up the stairs, his brown eyes flaring. 

But when Rakepick looked Carewyn in the face, the illusion flickering and dying before her eyes, she stilled, her face losing all of its color.  

“You,” she whispered in an oddly fragile voice. 

BONG. 

At long last, the final stroke of midnight had come. Carewyn was exposed, recognized, by the magician her grandfather had hired, even despite her best efforts. 

But before Carewyn could even think of doing anything, Bill wrenched Rakepick off of his friend with one hand and threw her to the ground. Then he looped an arm around Carewyn’s waist, hoisting her up as if she were his little sister, Ginny, and ferried her right off her feet to the coach. Once he’d handed her off to Talbott and Badeea inside, Bill leapt up onto the boot. 

“Go, now!”

Charlie in the driver’s seat barely needed any encouragement -- he flicked the reins and set the horses off at a run before the coach door was even securely closed. 

Rakepick stared after the coach from her place sprawled out on the stairs, stunned. She didn’t even see Orion watch it go himself from the top of the stairs with a smile. 

Once Carewyn’s coach was out of sight, Orion looked around, and a sparkle of orange diamond and shimmering paint caught his eye. When he looked down, he found Carewyn’s discarded “stained glass” slipper sitting innocently on its side at the top of the stair. He wiped the small amount of blood on his hand off on his black doublet sleeve, before he gingerly bent down and picked up the hand-painted shoe, his smile spreading into a full grin as he headed back indoors. 

His improvised plan had worked all right so far. Maybe...just maybe...the Fates might favor him and Carewyn, after all. 

[bamfdaddio]

X-Men Abridged: 1981 - Bonus: Avengers Annual 10/What If? 27

The X-Men, those Claremontian mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. Want to unravel this tapestry? Then read the Abridged X-Men! [more here]

(Avengers Annual 10 & What If? 27) - by Chris Claremont and Mary Jo Duffy, Michael Golden and Jerry Bingham

Avengers? You’re not here for Avengers! Let me make the following counterpoint:

Holy eye shadow, Rogue!

See, Avengers Annual 10 is less about the Avengers and more about three other things:

The rehabilitation of Carol Danvers who, after this, has had her fill of the Avengers and becomes an honorary member of the X-Men;

Spider-Woman and the X-Men trying to figure out what has happened to Ms. Marvel;

Mystique trying to spring her Brotherhood from prison, using a secret weapon: Rogue.

Depending on my mood that day, I might name Rogue as my favourite-ever X-Man, so I really could not skip her debut issue. Instantly iconic, all of this:

Her streak;

Her signature green outfit with hoodie;

Her accent.

Queen.

I love how Claremont once again almost effortlessly introduces a strong female character, one that single-handedly takes down three of the strongest Avengers. Also note how free Rogue still is with her powers: fun, flirty, without the tragic can’t-touch-anyone-angle that will define her for the next three decades.

I’m sorry, am I getting ahead of myself?

This story begins as a whodunit: who pushed an amnesiac Carol Danvers off the Golden Gate Bridge and stole her mind? For that matter, where did she came from? Wasn’t she happily married and pregnant in some alternative dimension last time the readers saw her? Spider-Woman rescues her from the choppy water and calls Professor Xavier to help out. He manages to retrieve the Jane Doe’s identity and knows who attacked her: a woman named Rogue.

Rogue, meanwhile, skulks about the Avengers Mansion, first taking out Captain America and then attacking Thor.

Considering what this comic is about, I don’t believe Hawkeye’s throwaway mysognism is accidental here.

Rogue’s powers work as follows: through touch, she can steal other people’s powers and memories. The longer she touches someone, the longer she’ll have them - with the looming threat of the theft becoming permanent.

After absorbing Thor, Rogue is faced with three Avengers who’s powers she can’t absorb - Spider-Woman (covered in a suit); Vision (robot) and Wonder Man (being of pure energy? Idk, I’m not really familiar with him other than his bromance with Beast). Hoping the three powers she has in her arsenal - Ms. Marvel’s, Thor’s and Cap’s - will be enough, Rogue flees.

Mystique, meanwhile, has duped Iron Man by pretending to be the Wasp and has paralysed Tony Stark in his suit with some sort of device. She picks up the powered-up Rogue and their plan becomes clear:

Rogue immediately earns her place in my heart by using billionaire Tony Stark the way the Coyote uses anvils. (Also note the odd way of spelling ‘sugah’.)

I love how both the Brotherhood and the X-Men continually pull focus from the Avengers: for an Avengers-comic, it's surprising how much they're pushed to the background. Again, this makes sense if you know what this issue really is about, but that won’t become clear until the epilogue. I don’t mind, it means we get a ton of great moments, like the Blob calling Mystique ‘Misty’:

My God, this era’s Destiny/Mystique is even more obvious than 90’s Rictor/Shatterstar.

A battle erupts. One funny moment is actually seeing Destiny fight. I’ve never really read comics about this incarnation of the Brotherhood and my collection mostly takes off after Legion Quest, so I mostly know Destiny posthumously. I always figured that, as a villain, she stood somewhere off on the side, delivering cryptic messages. I never realized she was the one to almost shoot Senator Kelly, nor that her powers are this practical.

X-Men drinking game rule 11: Drink anytime someone fatshames the Blob.

The fight is pretty evenly matched until Spider-Woman releases Iron Man from Mystique’s little trap. Soon, the Avengers overwhelm the Brotherhood. While Mystique and Rogue manage to flee, Destiny, Avalanche, Pyro and the Blob are detained again.

With the main antagonists sorted, we return to the actual storyline: the rehabilitation of Ms. Marvel. Professor X has managed to tease her out of her catatonic state and offers her therapy to restore her missing memories and powers. (The ones stolen by Rogue.) The Avengers, not fully understanding why Carol won’t ask them for help, eventually come by for a house call.

Carol asks the X-Men to leave while the Avengers gingerly confront her. It’s very awkward.

“Fuck the Avengers. Taking my beer.” - Wolverine, probably.

See, what all this refers to is the rape of Ms. Marvel. I haven’t read the particular comic in which this happens (Avengers 200), so if you want all the details, I’ll refer you to this article. Before I get into the details, it’s important to note that Claremont was the writer for Carol Danvers in her solo-series, giving her agency and turning Ms. Marvel into a three-dimensional character. The title was then cancelled and Carol was shuffled off to the Avengers. (Rogue was, in fact, planned to make her debut in that the solo-Ms. Marvel series, as one of Ms. Marvel’s new antagonists. Presumably, Rogue would steal her powers there, too. We all know Claremont loves to strip his heroes and heroines of their powers to show they’re even more badass without them.)

As an Avenger, Carol was wooed by some other-dimensional dude/entity named Marcus. He courted her by giving her flowers, worshipping the ground she stepped on and, oh yeah, ‘subtly’ influencing her mind to make her fall in love with him and consequently impregnating her.

Yes.

Now, Claremont is no stranger to putting his characters through their paces and he gleefully makes use of the whole mental manipulation-trope. In fact, telepathically coercing someone to fall in love with you is absolutely what Mastermind did to Jean Grey: he probably violated her just as much as Marcus did Carol. The difference is how it’s treated in the narrative: Mastermind’s actions are never laughed away or apologized for and are the direct cause for his downfall. They help trigger Jean’s transformation to the Dark Phoenix, whose first deed is taking out her fury on ‘Jason Wyngarde’.

That’s… not what happened with Ms. Marvel. There, the narrative condones Marcus’ actions by framing it as ‘her happy ending’ (married and pregnant, yay!), something which is celebrated by the Avengers.

This is where Carol calls them out for their bullshit.

We call this ‘The Reason You Suck’-Speech. It’s a thing of beauty.

The Avengers depart, tail between their legs, and Carol hangs out with the cool X-kids from now on. For now, at least.

So, this issue is not only a landmark because it’s where Rogue debuts, but you can also see Chris Claremont going to bat for one of characters: he (presumably reluctantly) gave back the character of Carol Danvers when her solo was cancelled, proceeded to see how terribly they massacred his girl and then claimed that ownership right back.

Good for you, Claremont.

***

The “What If… the Phoenix Had Not Died”-issue is kind of boring, because it’s basically a rehash of the Phoenix Saga. Why am I paying attention to it? Because of the (mild) gore (and because the Avengers Annual wouldn’t fill a whole post). Anyway, it’s like watching a Final Destination-movie: it’s silly, light on plot and never a particularly thought-provoking movie, but it’s still fun to see all those people inventively but haplessly die.

Plot! Instead of committing suicide on the moon, the Shi’ar strip Jean of her powers after her trial. Jean is trapped in a barren mental state, almost feeling like she's a veggie. But Jean's powers refuse to remain dormant: slowly, her telepathy returns.

When Galactus threatens the Shi’ar homestead, Lilandra summons the X-Men as her champions. Jean embraces her Phoenix-side and defeats Galactus. Everyone is grateful and super-convinced Jean can handle the Phoenix this time! Yay!

And, because that battle with Galactus took a lot out of her, Jean decides she can have a little asteroid. As a treat. She keeps slipping up on her diet, supping on the occasional meteor and lonely planet to keep her power levels up. It turns out to be a slippery slope: finally, she consumes another star (in an uninhabited system! And a small one! How dare you judge her!), but when she returns to the mansion…

The absolute worst moment to forget you have powers, Kitty.

Xavier attempts to bind the Phoenix, but last time, Jean helped him fight from within. This time, there's not much Jean left. Without breaking a sweat, the Phoenix wipes his brain. But she doesn’t stop there. Maybe the Phoenix remembers that, last time, she was undone by the principles of ���friendship is magic”. This time, she’s determined to not let it get so far.

It’s absolutely bone-chilling.

And the stars blinked As they watched her carefully Jealous of the way she shone - Atticus

I wonder if there’s a rhyme or reason to the way Jean murders her friends: is it random? Does she go for the ones she loves the most first? Does she save Cyclops for last, knowing killing him might trigger Jean to respond?

The narration mentions that the three remaining X-Men are the most powerful ones: Polaris, Havok and Cyclops. (I would’ve swapped in Storm for Cyclops, but whatever.) They have formulated a quick plan: Polaris pulls focus while Havok and Cyclops shift into position. Phoenix disintegrates Polaris while Havok and Scott try and blast Phoenix to smithereens.

But at the last moment, Scott can’t. Havok’s blast alone is not enough. Phoenix shoots him through the heart and then, finally, kills Cyclops. That’s when Jean resurfaces, realizing what she’s done. She can’t take it - she’s in the mood to dissolve in the sky, as per Virginia Woolf - and she lets the Phoenix take over.

Phoenix finally lives up to her potential: The End of All That Is.

It's a mediocre plot with a lame ramp-up to a terrifying conclusion. In the regular universe, the thing that triggers the Phoenix is the utter violation of Jean’s body and mind; here, it’s being confronted by Kitty. One is the proverbial red cloth in front of the bull, the other is being assaulted by an ineffective wet cloth. The Phoenix Saga is iconic because all the pieces were carefully put in place; this just feels rushed an unearned.

Also, the Watcher is full of shit. You can’t say you don’t pass judgment whilst simultaneously comparing the merits of one tragedy to the other. Shut up, Uatu.

Check back next week for your regularly scheduled X-Men Abridged! It’s time for 1982 and the brood saga!

[mercysought]

“War breeds fear. Fear breeds a desire for simplicity. Good and evil. Right or wrong. Chains of command.”

The priestess sat by a single grey rock. Beside her a girl rested her head on her lap, over the softer fabric of dark and worn armour. Long and braided hair, dirty blonde even in the light shimmery light around them, loose strands swaying in the wind; caught by long and spider-like fingers pulling them down. Those same fingers who brush lightly against the side of her head. The motion is smooth and careful, each stroke keeping the strands neately over her head. The eyes of the girl do not move over her shoulder when steps are heard, when the wind picks up softly, when the glass from the Eluvian at the bottom of the hill behind them shines brightly at the arrival of another.

They continue looking into the distant hills, distant and glazed. The priestess’ dark eyes glance over her shoulder, over her pauldron, to the figure that walks slowly over to the hill that they both rested in. The caresses atop the other’s head do not stop and her attention doesn’t linger on the figure for long.

The balance is thin, artificially kept with a iron fist. The air around them warm, but what remained left a hint of a searing warmth of a desert. Cherry blossom pink, almost white in the direct sunlight that bathes the scarred dark skin of the soldier, hold onto the single tree’s branches; knowing Autumn is just around the corner, its hungry winds ready to tear through the branches like the touch of an eager but careless lover.

The armour she wore was, much like all in her life, patch work and half memories of a time that had long since passed. Newer materials melted and twisted into older shapes and enchantments that, if pressed, would sing in old tongues that no living being could likely remember. No one except perhaps them. The two figures. The one that caressed a young woman’s head and the man that came to a stop only a few steps behind her. 

A wolf in the shape of a man, with no pack and no sense of loyalty.

The woman, girl, had no vallas’lin. Not over her hands, not over her face. No ink touched the tanned eyelids or the freckled nose. The braids were simple, practical and utalitarian. A scout, truly, just not one that had been prepared to encounter one such as her.

   “I thought that a painful but swift death was what awaited us when you forced this curse upon the world. That all would come to a sharp halt. Desentigrate completely... The air...” she breathes deeply and all around them the air trembles. In front of them, a sharp cliff falling into a grey abyss shakes. As if her breathing, a single breath, was enough to blow the small and fragile balance left in this space away. Unmake it completely. Dark eyes fall on the woman, her fingers coming to rest on the side of her face. This girl that didn’t know any better, looped into a war that she would never fully grasp “Simply sucked out of our children’s breath, stolen like their future and their world.”

How stomach-churning it was to think that they had fought side by side now. Connected by a single goal: To not allow a man shem’len to use one of the People’s (hers) powers to tear whatever was left of the world asunder.

She had not worn this armour then, during the years that she had found temporary refuge in Tarasyl'an Te'las. And he had not showed his hand. How fortunate it had been they they had never truly seen enough of each other’s faces during the height of the War of Elvhenan. He was not as powerful as he had been then; she knew because she wasn’t either. Moreover, he held no more shields, not as many, as he had before. 

A coward, yes, but one that had still come alone upon hearing of a strange woman that had been spotted in the crossroads with a missing scout. One of many, but the first that had been left behind.

   “But to have witness not a death, but a change... A metamorphisis so harsh where they no longer recognised themselves...“ the woman’s expression softens. The scars on her face deeper than they had been last they had seen each other, pulling rich skin as a frown forms.

Picked off and hunted. The ones killed were lucky, though the priestess doubted they had found their way to the Beyond. Bodies were not often recovered. There was often nothing to find. With their Gods exiled, killed, imprisioned, away (who knew at this point)... The People disappeared into the cities that crumbled and temples whose protection tore and eroded with time and the waining of their own magic.

Their own life force flickering like a candle whose air is slowly being cut “It was not death that awaited those that could not or would not enter Uthenera.” torn and dragged from temples. Kept under a deep statis like animals, used for their knowledge and their blood for rituals that were useless and foolish. Their language torn to pieces, used and abused until one could no longer recognise it. Their towards changed to fit other’s needs.

Their bodies kept bound, working without rest, their children disconnected from their culture, shamed for their features. What had awaited them, what had awaited her had not been death. Not one death. Not a swift one 

Her hand brushes the girl’s hair, her body shifts over the large rock to face the man. Dark eyes, tired and sunken are loud in their simmering fury “It was pure, unbridled cruelty.“

The air around them is stale, the wind that swirls at the mouth of the cliff cannot roll over the short and patch work of grass that sorrounds them. The man dressed in wolf’s furs looks at her intently, lips closed into thin lines and eyes that do a poor job to conceal the reflected contemptment.

   “Hearing you, of all people, speak of cruelty...” a short lived snarl takes hold on his lips but as his shoulders straighten once again it is but a distant memory. Not unlike the echoed words that she had come to hear of their coversation with the Inquisitor. A passing comment, one borne out of exasperation. A single and light arch of his eyebrow “Had it been Falon’din to do so, I must wonder if your accusations would have flowed so easily.“

It is her turn to snarl and it comes like a stone crashing through thin and carefully laid glass panes within a temple’s windows. It is scorched onto the earth, pulling at scarred skin as the earth is pulled from the roots of the single tree that shelters them both.

Beneath them the earth shakes and a wave ripples through and crumbles the edges that fall carelessly into the abyss. The girl rises, soft and light and without a care in the world. Carried almost by the air itself, standing by the rock with relaxed shoulders. Eyes still staring to the snowy peak in the distance.

How nice it must have been to sleep. To simply drift off into a different place, to be completely unbothered by any and all realities. To feel comforted in his most vunerable state. How easy it was for him to dimiss the pain of those that he had lied to get on his side. How easy to dismiss their death, their years of punishment. How easy it was for this worm to dismiss those that had been punished in his stead. 

   “I watched and FOUGHT as MY People died at the hands of shem’len while you and your cowardly dogs SLEPT!“ she rises and from the bottom of the hills in the distance the painting is ripped allowing for dark waters to spill and flood into the grey, misty and infinite valley beneath.

The thought made her blood boil. Her hands closed into fists that could break the ground that they both walked on “I have died a thousand deaths, witnessed every change, carried that weight as the Children wilted beneath the weight of your actions.” 

   “For all my sins,” all around them the air shrieks, shaking in itself and tearing from the soft brease. Shades of sharp green and red fill the air like blood on water. “I have never sidestepped the consequences of my actions. I have paid its price in blood.” a pause ”Can you say the same?”

credit . .

[lavendermilkandhoney]

1/22 The Fool - V

In Game

The Fool is everyone – including you and me. Each step he takes on his journey feels like stepping into a brave new world. Ultimately, the journey will change him. But as the card shows, he’s a trustworthy lad whose tireless hope drives him toward his goal.

Location

You can find The Fool graffiti right outside V's apartment in Little China. The graffiti is on the right side of the entrance door.

Misty’s Reading (Arasaka Ending) - Upright

“Symbolizes the start of a journey, the announcement of something new. It’s the inner child - curious of the world, but also naive and reckless.”

Dialogues

Misty : The Fool is you and Silverhand. You’ve traveled a long road together, discovered your potential. Your destination is the World, the final arcanum. Both of you waged a war on the world, so there are two possibilities - declare victory or make peace. 

V : Could lose the war too.

Misty : Yes - unfortunately, that’s true.

In Tarot

UPRIGHT: Beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit

REVERSED: Holding back, recklessness, risk-taking

The Fool is numbered 0 – the number of unlimited potential – and so does not have a specific place in the sequence of the Tarot cards. The Fool can be placed either at the beginning of the Major Arcana or at the end. The Major Arcana is often considered the Fool’s journey through life and as such, he is ever present and therefore needs no number.

On the Fool Tarot card, a young man stands on the edge of a cliff, without a care in the world, as he sets out on a new adventure. He is gazing upwards toward the sky (and the Universe) and is seemingly unaware that he is about to skip off a precipice into the unknown. Over his shoulder rests a modest knapsack containing everything he needs – which isn’t much (let’s say he’s a minimalist). The white rose in his left hand represents his purity and innocence. And at his feet is a small white dog, representing loyalty and protection, that encourages him to charge forward and learn the lessons he came to learn. The mountains behind the Fool symbolise the challenges yet to come. They are forever present, but the Fool doesn’t care about them right now; he’s more focused on starting his expedition.

UPRIGHT 

The Fool is a card of new beginnings, opportunity and potential. Just like the young man, you are at the outset of your journey, standing at the cliff‘s edge, and about to take your first step into the unknown. Even though you don’t know exactly where you are going, you are being called to commit yourself and follow your heart, no matter how crazy this leap of faith might seem to you. Now is a time when you need to trust where the Universe is taking you.

As you undertake this new journey, the Fool encourages you to have an open, curious mind and a sense of excitement. Throw caution to the wind and be ready to embrace the unknown, leaving behind any fear, worry or anxiety about what may or may not happen. This is about new experiences, personal growth, development, and adventure.

The time is NOW! Take that leap of faith, even if you do not feel 100% ready or equipped for what is coming (who knows what it could be?!). Seriously, what are you waiting for? Do you think you need to have everything mapped out before you can begin? No way! Not with the Fool. He ventures out on his journey with just his essential belongings – and now he invites you to do the same. You don’t need to wait for someone to give you the green light or hold off until you have all the skills, tools and resources you think you might need. You are ready! If you’ve been watching for a sign, this is it!

This is a time of great potential and opportunity for you right now. The world is your oyster, and anything can happen. Use your creative mind with a dash of spontaneity to make the most of this magical time and bring forth your new ideas in powerful ways.

The Fool is your invitation to relax, play, and have fun. Treat life like one big experiment and feel yourself in the flow of whatever comes your way. This card asks you to embrace your beautiful, carefree spirit, allowing yourself to connect to the energy that surrounds you and flows through you. Tap into your fullest potential by stepping into a place of wonderment, curiosity and intrigue. Live life as though you were a child once again. Laugh more, dance, and let your heart go free.

This is an excellent card to meditate on if you are struggling with dread, worry or self-doubt in your life. The Fool is your guide, as someone who is daring and carefree. He is the embodiment of who you really are – your free spirit, your inner child, and your playful soul. Any time you experience fear, remember the essence of the Fool as he encourages you to acknowledge that fear and do it anyway! You never know what the future holds, but like the Fool, you must step into the unknown, trusting that the Universe will catch you and escort you along the way. Take a chance and see what happens.

REVERSED 

The Fool reversed suggests that you have conceived of a new project but aren’t ready to ‘birth’ it into the world just yet. You may worry that you are not fit or that you don’t have all the tools, skills and resources you need to make this project a success. Or perhaps you have a sense that the timing isn’t right. Something is holding you back, and you are preventing yourself from moving forward. You may choose to keep this new opportunity to yourself for now, or you might be ‘parking’ it until a better time.

You may fear the unknown, wondering, ‘What am I getting myself into?’ As a result, you have come to a standstill, worried about taking any action where you don’t know the outcome. This often boils down to the need to control everything. Balance this out with knowing that the Universe has your back and you can take this step forward, even if you are unsure of exactly what will happen next.

On the flipside, the reversed Fool can show that you are taking too many risks and acting recklessly. In your attempt to live ‘in the moment’ and be spontaneous and adventurous, you may do so in total disregard of the consequences of your actions and engaging in activities that put both yourself and others at risk. Look at the bigger picture and consider how you can keep the free spirit of the Fool without harming others.

In light of the playful and fun energy of the upright Fool, the reversal suggests you are exploring this spirit on a more personal and quiet level. For example, instead of letting down your hair and dancing up on stage, you are dancing in your bedroom like no-one is watching. Look at how you can bring more play into your daily life, even if you start out by doing it in private.

---

Thank you so much @cybervesna​ for the polish traduction from the official guide book and its associations with the characters!

[bush-viper-cutie]

“No One Listens” || YEAR 3 – Ch.40 (HP au)

                              Chapter List

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Day posted: 2/6/2021

Word count: 2,888

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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Heather and Hermione followed Madam Pomfrey as she moved Harry into a bed next to Ron. He looked pale and there were beads of sweat trickling down his temples.

“When will he wake up?” Hermione asked.

Madam Pomfrey placed a cold towel on his forehead and sighed. “Soon I suspect. How many where there?”

“Dozens, maybe hundreds… or more…” Heather tried to count all the misty cloaks in her memory but they all morphed into one nightmare-ish cloud of anguish and torment.

“Oh dear.” Madam Pomfrey shook her head and moved onto Ron again.

Heather and Hermione sat on the chairs by Harry’s bed and waited for something to happen. Hermione seemed to be waiting for Harry and Ron to wake up, but now that Harry was safe under Madam Pomfrey’s care, Heather waited for Professor Dumbledore to show up like he always did after these events.

She would settle everything with Professor Dumbledore as soon as he arrived and save Sirius, their only chance at a better home. She and Hermione would tell him everything that happened and their reputations as good students should at least warrant an investigation into it all.

“Shocking business…” a grim voice sounded from outside the hospital wing, just barely audible enough in the quiet chamber. “Shocking…”

Heather turned and strained her hearing.

“Miracle none of them died…”

Heather turned to Hermione and whispered, “I think that’s Fudge.”

Hermione nodded. “Is he alone?”

The voice was growing louder. He must be walking down the hall towards them! Heather moved to stand at the foot of Harry’s bed, ready to face the Minister of Magic with the unbelievable truth they’d all learned tonight.

“Never heard the like… by thunder, it was lucky you were there, Snape…”

“Thank you, Minister,” Snape said courtly.

Heather’s courage began to diminish. If Professor Snape was the one he was conversing with, then her reputation as a good student would surely be ruined if he mentioned her attack on him to Cornelius Fudge. She wondered if it was possible for her school file to transfer to a ministry file. Would her future employers be able to open up a file and know all the reasons for her detentions? Maybe she should hide again…

“Order of Merlin, Second Class, I’d say. First Class, if I can wrangle it!”

“Thank you very much indeed, Minister.” Professor Snape had never sounded more kindly.

Heather and Hermione exchanged wide-eyed looks. Although Professor Snape had done nothing for uncovering Peter Pettigrew and his whereabouts or listened to Sirius plead his innocence OR saved them all from Professor Lupin’s werewolf attack… She supposed she could look the other way, considering Harry was safe in bed next to her and not at the mercy of hundred or more soul-thirsty dementors.

“Nasty cut you’ve got there… Black’s work, I suppose?”

Her courage drained completely.

“As a matter of fact, it was the Potters.” He now sounded right on the other side of the hospital doors.

Furdge gasped. “You don’t say! Why, I wouldn’t have thought Harry to be the kind to – ”

“Black had them bewitched. I recognized it immediately. A Confundus Charm on each one, Weasley and Granger included, judging by their behavior. They seemed to believe there was a possibility he was innocent. They weren’t responsible for their actions… However, their interference might have led to more serious consequences had I not regained my consciousness in time. I believe they thought they were going to catch Black single-handed. Had their previous bad behavior not been excused, I’m sure they wouldn’t have even attempted it. They’ve gotten away with a great deal before now… I’m afraid it’s given them a rather high opinion of themselves… And of course the Potters have always been allowed an extraordinary amount of license by the Headmaster – I can hardly manage the girl with the boy being permitted just about anything.”

Heather closed her gaping mouth and crossed her arms. ‘Manage’? Her frown was as deep as Hermione’s. How were they to convince him if Professor Snape was going around saying they had been Confunded!

“Ah, well, Snape…. You know how it is, with Harry Potter and of course his sister… We’ve all got a bit of a blind spot where they’re concerned.”

“And yet – is it good for them to be given so much special treatment? Personally, I try to treat them like any other student. And any other student would be suspended – at the very least – for leading their friends into such dangers. Consider, Minister… against all school rules set in place for them, after all the precautions the Ministry put in place for them, they found themselves out-of-bounds, after hours, consorting with a werewolf and a murderer – and I have reason to believe they’ve been visiting Hogsmeade illegally too – ”

“Yes, yes, well… We shall see. We shall see… They have been undoubtedly foolish – ”

“Foolish. Half-witted. Irresponsible. Imprudent – ”

“They are children after all – say, you’ve really no idea what made all the dementors retreat?”

“No, Minister… By the time I had come ‘round, they were all heading back to their positions at the entrances.”

“Oh dear… Their behavior both amazes me and frightens – to be perfectly honest. You don’t think Black had commanded them in any way before he fell to their effects?”

“Trust me, Minister, Black hasn’t the skill or capacity for the knowledge. He is merely a dangerous murderer through sheer excitement for chaos and his atrocious disregard for lives. Potter is lucky to be alive. If the dementors hadn’t exhausted Black half to death – ”

Heather jumped. Was Sirius really half dead? But he wasn’t being treated in the hospital wing… Hermione looked to her with concern. She hoped Professor Snape would leave already so they could have the Minister’s ears to themselves.

“I am sure this night would have ended quite differently,” Professor Snape finished.

“Ah, you’re awake!”

Heather turned to Madam Pomfrey and saw her looking down at Harry. She was carrying the largest brick of chocolate she’d ever seen.

She took out a little wooden mallet from her nurse’s apron pocket and began crushing it on Harry’s bedside table. “Belgian dark chocolate, only used for emergencies. And don’t mind the cocoa solids if you find any, those’ll perk you right up – What do you think you’re doing, Mr. Potter?”

Harry sat up and slid his glasses up his nose. “How’s Ron?”

“He’ll live – Just one moment, Potter – ” She tried to push him back into bed but he wiggled out before she could.

“We need to see the Headmaster,” Harry said hoarsely.

“Fudge is right outside,” Heather told him. “When he comes in here we can, but first – hey!”

“Good then let’s go tell him right now.” Harry pushed passed Hermione and Heather and headed for the door.

“Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said as soothingly as possible. She had come around the bed and planted herself in his way. “It’s all right. They’ve got Black. He’s likely already locked away upstairs. The dementors should be performing the kiss any moment – ”

“WHAT?” all three of them yelled.

Madam Pomfrey angrily sushed them. “Mr. Weasley is resting – as you should be, Mr. Potter.”

The hospital doors swung open and Professor Snape and Cornelius Fudge stepped in, having heard their exclamation. Fudge didn’t look very pleased, seeing Harry out of bed and trying to get around Madam Pomfrey.

“You should be in bed, Harry.” He turned to Madam Pomfrey, “Has he had any chocolate?”

“Excuse me, Minister, please,” Heather cut in before Madam Pomfrey could drag Harry away. “Please, its important – ”

“Sirius Black is innocent,” Harry began talking over Heather. “We saw Peter Pettigrew tonight! He faked his death – we can’t let the dementors do that thing to Sirius! He’s – ”

Hermione joined in the explanation. “He was Ron’s rat, Scabbers, of course we didn’t know that – he’s an animagus you see and – ”

Fudge was shaking his head and waving his hands around, trying to halt their talking. “Harry, children – Please, you’re all very confused. This dreadful night has been far too much, hasn’t it? Let’s get you back in bed, Harry. Madam Pomfrey, please. Don’t worry, we have everything under control, children – ”

“BUT YOU HAVEN’T!” Harry yelled. “YOU”VE GOT THE WRONG MAN!”

Heather clasped her hands together pleadingly, desperate. “It’s true, please believe us, he’s innocent and Peter Pettigrew is getting away – ”

Professor Snape approached from behind Fudge’s shoulder. “See, Minister?” he whispered. “Completely confunded… Black’s done quite the job on them all.”

“NONE OF US ARE CONFUNDED!” Harry roared, throwing his arms up angrily.

“Minister! Professor! This conversation is distressing my patients and I must insist that you both leave.” Madam Pomfrey now began motioning them both away. “Mr. Potter, Miss Granger – this way to bed, please.”

“No! I’m not distressed! I’m trying to tell them what happened if they’d just listen!” Harry said furiously but Madam Pomfrey had found the perfect opportunity at the last word and stuffed a chunk of dark chocolate in his mouth.

Madam Pomfrey pulled Harry by the arm and forced him into bed. She turned back around and pointed at the door. “Now, visiting hours are over, please, Minister.”

But before Madam Pomfrey could shoo them out, the door opened and Professor Dumbledore came in, spotting them immediately.

Heather ran up to him and walked by his side as he approached the group. “Professor! Peter Pettigrew is gone – and Sirius Black is – ”

He walked on, ignoring her completely without even a look her way. Her heart dropped. Everyone was ignoring them! An innocent man was about to die and not a single person in the room was willing to hear them out!

“Headmaster, I’m trying to deliver the proper care to these students. I must insist that everyone leave so that they may calm down – ”

“Of course, Poppy, my apologies. However I do need a word with the Potters and Miss Granger for just a moment.” Professor Dumbledore looked at Harry, “I’ve just been talking to Sirius Black – ”

Professor Snape scoffed in revulsion. “And is he still telling the same fairy tale he’s planted in their minds? Something about a rat and Pettigrew being alive – ”

“That very one,” said Professor Dumbledore, regarding Professor Snape closely over his half-moon glasses.

“And does my evidence count for nothing?” Professor Snape spat. “Peter Pettigrew was not in the Shrieking Shack, nor did I see any sign of him on the grounds.”

“That was because you were knocked out!” Heather said too quickly to rethink her words.

“And who’s fault was that!” he snarled.

“But it’s true,” Hermione began, sounding like she often did in class. “If you had only arrived in time to hear – ”

“Miss Granger, HOLD YOUR TONGUE!”

The Minister jumped at Professor Snape’s tone. “Now, Snape. They are clearly disturbed in the mind. After what happened, we must make allowances – ”

“I would like to speak to Harry, Heather, and Hermione alone,” Professor Dumbledore cut him off. “Cornelius, Severus, Poppy – Please leave us.”

“Albus! But they need rest and – ” Madam Pomfrey frowned at Professor Dumbledore’s polite smile and huffed. She marched off across the room and slammed her office door shut.

Fudge took out a large golden pocket watch from his waistcoat and consulted it. “The dementors should have arrived by now.” He looked out the window and shivered, turning back to Professor Dumbledore. “I’ll meet you upstairs.” He walked to the door and held it open for Professor Snape.

Professor Snape made no intention to leave and Fudge walked out, letting the door close on its own.

“You surely don’t believe a word of Black’s story?” Professor Snape whispered, his eyes fixed on Professor Dumbledore’s half-lidded eyes.

“I wish to speak to Harry, Heather, and Hermione alone,” Professor Dumbledore repeated politely.

Professor Snape took a step closer. “Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen,” he breathed. “You haven’t forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven’t forgotten that he once tried to kill ME?”

“My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus,” Professor Dumbledore said quietly. He stared down at Professor Snape for several seconds until he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door louder than even Madam Pomfrey.

As soon as it turned quiet, the three of them began speaking at once.

“Sirius is telling the truth! We saw Peter Pettigrew escape – ”

“ – he’s an animagus and ran when Professor Lupin turned into a werewolf and – ”

“ – a rat with only four fingers – ”

“ – is completely innocent and it’s really Pettigrew who – ”

Professor Dumbledore pressed his finger to his lips and they immediately stopped talking.

“You three must listen very closely, and there is no time for interruptions,” he said calmly. “It is your word – the word of three thirteen year olds who have already been accused of being confunded – and the word of a convicted criminal against the Minister’s and a member of my staff – a head of house no less – with no shred of proof to discredit the street full of eyewitness accounts who swear they saw Sirius murder Pettigrew. I myself gave evidence to the Ministry that Sirius had been the Potter’s Secret-Keeper.”

“But Professor Lupin can – ” Hermione was cut off by Professor Dumbledore’s hand held up to stop her.

“Professor Lupin is currently running deep within the forest, unable to tell anyone anything. By the time he is human again, it will have been too late for Sirius. Even if Professor Lupin could give his account to the details of tonight it would count for very little. Werewolves are deeply mistrusted by most of our kind and the fact that he and Sirius are old friends – ”

Harry was shaking his head. “But – ”

“Listen to me, Harry. It is too late for explanations. By the time you get anyone to listen to you, Sirius will be worse than dead. Professor Snape’s version of events is far more convincing than any of yours.”

“He refuses to listen because he hates Sirius!” Hermione wiped the tears that had started running down her cheek. “That’s why he refused to listen in the shack. All because of some stupid trick that Sirius played on him YEARS AGO – ”

“Sirius’ actions this year have not helped his reputation. The attack on the Fat Lady, entering Gryffindor Tower with a knife, none of those are actions of an innocent man. We would need Pettigrew, alive or dead, to have any chance at overturning Sirius’ sentence.”

Heather frowned. “But if you believe us, Professor… Can’t you – ”

Professor Dumbledore shook his head. “I have no power to make these men see the truth, or to overrule the Minister of Magic.”

Heather’s lips began to tremble as she ran out of ideas. What could they do? Their word didn’t matter. Sirius’ word didn’t matter. Professor Lupin couldn’t give his word and even if he did it wouldn’t matter. In a matter of seconds Sirius could be given the kiss and not even Professor Dumbledore could save him. Do they just give up?

She hugged herself and squeezed tight, wishing she could go back in time and act more enthusiastic about possibly living with Sirius. She regretted feeling so cautious about him and not participating in their special moment in the tunnel, godfather and godchildren reunited. “So then, what can we do? What do we do?”

Professor Dumbledore’s tone changed and he spoke very slowly, “Sirius is locked in a prison cell inside Professor Flitwick’s office on the seventh floor. Thirteenth window from the right of the West Tower. To save Sirius… we’ll need – ” His eyes moved to Hermione. “more time.”

Heather stared at Hermione intensely as she pieced together what Professor Dumbledore was saying.

“But – Oh!”

Professor Dumbledore smiled. “Keep in mind, you must not be seen. Miss Granger, you know the law – and you know what’s at stake… Do – not – be – seen.” He turned on his heel and was already across the room by the time Harry had realized their conversation had ended.

“B-but what – I don’t – ” Harry sputtered.

Professor Dumbledore opened the door and looked at them over his shoulder. “I’m going to lock you in. It is – ” he pulled out a pocket watch and flipped it open, “five minutes to midnight. Three turns should do it. Good luck.”

He closed the door and a click echoed through the chamber. Harry whirled around and stared at Hermione with Heather – who was crossing her arms over her chest, still staring but with an added frown.

Hermione ignored them and pulled on a golden chain around her neck, pulling a little trinket out from under her sweater. “Come here, both of you, quick!”

Harry moved towards her and Heather was pulled into them before she could open her mouth to start her long string of complaints. Hermione threw the chain around the three of them.

“Ready?” Hermione didn’t look up at them for confirmation. She picked up the trinket – it was a tiny golden hourglass with sand that sparkled with the light – and began twisting.

Heather watched her closely. “And when were you going to tell us about – ”

At the third twist, the hospital chamber dissolved.

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[mrssimply]

I wrote a fanfic in english and it’s over 78k words

I know this must sound normal to some of you, but to me it’s an archievement!

I’m french, so writing in english is a challenge in itself. But as I can’t seem to be able to write simple things, I went overboard with a full story of 78k words, with subplots and way too few porn scenes for an E-rating (but there ARE some steamy scenes, I can garantee you!)

Today I finished publication, so it’s with a mixture of pride and nervousness that I’m writing this post.

Oh yeah, maybe I should talk about the fic?

It’s a johnny/male V fic, from the cyberpunk fandom.

And I must say it’s the first time I’m in a minor shipping in a fandom... It’s... disconcerting at best, sometime really discouraging.

Indeed, Johnny/female V is a ship that thrive, but there are so few authors writing male V/Johnny that I sometimes wondered why I bothered. And at the same time, finding so few fics to fuel my recent obsession was a real motivation for me to write: it is the fic I wanted to write.

As I published, another thing was apparent: this fiction DID NOT gather the success I hoped ahah. Again, it was quite the lesson: learning that my words didn’t create much interest in reader was...hard? But at the same time, it was a great experience, for I (re)discovered the joy of writing for oneself, and enjoying the process, having fun while writing, instead of writing to be liked. Still, it was also very vexing because, I mean, I wrote 78k words ahah, it was a LOT of work!

So I’m sharing my purest and simple joy here, for posterity!

Here is the fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29786514/chapters/73277463

And the summary:

In Mikoshi, V follows Johnny into the light. After ten years in cyberspace, Alt sends them back with a mission: find bodies for her and her army of AIs.

Back in flesh and bones, V has to face the consequence of his choice ten years ago when he left both his lovers behind to become numbers beyond the Black Wall. He must also deal with Johnny as their relationship takes the last step it couldn’t before, and the man’s history with past partners is not encouraging. Years in cyberspace changed Johnny in a way V hadn’t imagined. As they rediscover the many pains and pleasures of life, ethical considerations of Alt's plan come into focus, forcing V to dangerous measures. 

And for fun, a tibit:

In front of V, like a pair of panthers, both Johnny and Rogue were coming toward him and the dancers were parting like the red sea to let them pass.

“Having fun?” Rogue asked with a mischievous grin. “Looks like it” she added after a second when he didn’t answer. He was incapable of speech, too caught up in his trance.

She went past him with a smooth wave of her body and V was left alone with Johnny. He had the sudden unbidden though that all his partners had a common point: they were big cats and he was a lamb. With a borderline crazy laugh, he started dancing again, rolling his hips into the heavy beat. Johnny didn’t move at first, and behind his aviators V couldn’t decipher his face, but he didn’t care. Catching the silver arm, he drew Johnny toward himself, putting his hand on his hip to give him the rhythm. Johnny was a notoriously bad dancer; it had been unanimous from all the members of Samurai. He didn’t dance, hated it, but he liked to watch. He loved to observe the mass dance for him, and he did so hungrily, as it was their offering to his talent. So V knew what he was doing: he danced for Johnny, like a parade of love to entice him and indeed, the man seemed mesmerized. He barely moved, V wasn’t sure he breathed at all. Swaying his hips, smugly fit against Johnny’s front, V rolled his whole body into his partner’s before turning, pushing his ass into Johnny’s pelvic. And all around them, bodies joined the sensual dance, Kerry and Panam, together again, smiling like devils, Misty, Judy and Rogue, drawing a tableau of three ages and people, strangers, communing with them.  

V let his head fall against Johnny’s shoulder and felt the man’s beard scratch his sensitive neck, and shaped lips graze his jaw. Johnny bit it slightly as his arms enclosed V, pressing everywhere, from his collar bone to his crotch and he wasn’t shy in doing it, caressing V’s hard-on frankly. It lasted a while before, with a groan, Johnny made him turn harshly in his arm. He was panting, his aviators gone in his hair to look at V properly. His face was stony, a muscle ticked in his jaw. Faced with a panther’s jaw, V only laughed and grinded into the other man once more, watching with delight when Johnny’s eyes closed under the wave of sensation. Pleasure, like a drug, coursed through V’s veins, and his heart was beating so fast it would surely explode.

Their breaths were mingling in a near kiss, and Johnny was suddenly gripping V’s hair in a vice, trying to hold him still.

“You are a menace,” he whispered, “I hear you tell me about the pain of the flesh, and look at you high with pleasure, from nothing but dancing and being loved.”

Moaning as the words fell on his lips, V closed his eyes. The other man’s hand gentled on the younger merc’s face, his thumbs brushing his cheekbones then the corner of his mouth. And Johnny continued, his voice a deep rumble between their bodies.

“You really are a wanton being. But I will give it to ya, all of it.”

And at last, he kissed him and V melted, let himself go, turning pliant in his arms. Their tongues intertwined, and between kisses, Johnny bit V’s lips softly, watching with half lidded eyes when his partner panted against his lips. Mouth shiny with spit, opened in a silent begging for more, V kissed him back as fervently. His hands tangled in Johnny’s black hair, pulling their faces together even more as their tongues turned passionate. All the while, their hips moved in sync, a counterpoint of pleasure zipping through them with each friction.

Then Johnny’s eyes flickered behind him just before V felt another pair of hands on his shoulders. Gold again flashed in his vision and Kerry took off his jacket, letting it go to the floor where it was kicked into inexistence. With a huffing smile and a shake of his head, Johnny pushed V’s back into Kerry’s arms. Still panting, high like on a heavy dose of Smash, V watched him turn away and be swallowed by the crowd. Trembling, he let Kerry hold him from behind and Panam reappeared to sandwich him again.

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So yeah, this fic contains polyamorous relationships, although it is mainly Johnny/male V, character death (neither Johnny nor V, but an important character because we all like a good angst, am i right?), blood, violence etc but mostly, it contains love and healthy relationships, or as healthy as it can be when Johnny Silverhand is involved.

I hope you have fun while reading it, and I’m all ears and eyes to read your thoughts and reactions about it!

Thank you all!

[padfootagain]

The King And You (VI)

Part 6 : Agatha Pevensie

 Here we go again for a new chapter. The end of this one is very sad. I am warning you.

I hope you like this chapter!

Word count: 4350

So… you’re gonna leave him like this. On his own. Before the library, just like that.

No, no, no, I’m not judgemental or anything. Just… pointing out the fact, that’s all. I mean, of course, you’ve given him some money for the cab, and I’m sure he’ll manage to find his friends without you. Of course, you shouldn’t feel guilty for dropping him off just like that.

Hey, no need to be mad at me. I’m just the narrator, and I’m just saying… you’re feeling guilty for leaving the poor man there. Yes, he was weird. Very weird. But then, it’s NYC, so…

Besides, he was kind too. And cute in a ridiculous way. And handsome…

Don’t scowl at me, I’m just establishing facts here!

Now, again, I am but a humble narrator, I am not the one taking decisions. You are. My job is merely to describe your actions. And right now, your actions are constituted of leaving Caspian in front of the library, looking for a cab, with the address of a person he doesn’t know in the hope that she might know where to find his friends. How will he travel next? If his friends are not there? Where will he sleep? Eat?

You heaved a frustrated sigh - targeted towards me, which I find rather harsh, to be fair - and turned on your heels, walking back towards Caspian, who was looking for a ‘taxi’ as you had instructed him to. He had no idea what a 'taxi’ was, but he hadn’t dared to ask, too afraid you would find his question suspicious.

He welcomed you with a questioning frown.

"Look, huh…" you mumbled, hiding your hand in the pockets of your jean jacket. "I can take you there if you want."

"I have no wish to burden you…"

But you raised your hand to shush him.

"It isn’t far. And I… It’s okay, I have nothing better to do anyway."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I’m sure. Come on."

He gave you a bright and grateful smile that made your stomach do crazy flip-flops and lighted up your whole world.

Hmm… hmm… you’re welcome…

"I will be forever in your debt," he thanked you with a grateful smile.

You rolled your eyes, climbing into your car. You couldn't help yourself. You knew that he was quite strange, and that your reason screamed at you to be careful and get rid of him as fast as possible, but you couldn't. You didn't know why you were so eager to help him, but you were, and you acted in consequences. You had always been one to follow your heart more than your brain.

"Yeah, yeah, sure…"

You looked for the address on your phone and let the GPS guide you out of New York. Caspian was most intrigued by this talking map…

"It’s very clever," he breathed, looking at your phone carefully. "But how does it know where we are going?"

"I entered the address."

"So… it is a magic map? You tell it where you want to go and it shows you the way?"

You narrowed your eyes, but played along.

"Yes, that’s it."

Caspian’s eyes lit up with hope. Maybe this magic map could show him a passage back to Narnia too…

"May I try another destination?"

"Sure, just press that button," you showed him the speaker, "and then say the name of the place."

His finger was shaking as he pressed the blue microphone on the screen and he spoke as the circle on the app turned red.

"Narnia."

The device seemed to calculate for a while, searching through its database, but it beeped a disappointed noise as it came up empty handed.

Caspian heaved a sigh.

"No, I guess I must find another way," Caspian sighed. "No map will bring me home."

"You still haven't told me where 'home' is to you," you asked with a wary voice, carefully studying his reaction. And indeed, he tensed a little as he looked for a lie to tell.

"Quite far," was all you could get out of him.

You drove through New York in a heavy silent, quite uncomfortable as Caspian did everything he could to avoid your glance and you were deeply lost in thought. It gave him a good excuse to focus on the world beyond his window, watching the tall buildings passing by, and the cars honking and crowds hurrying down the streets. It was a busy and incredible world he had been sent to, and for the first time since he had walked through this wardrobe, he realized that it was something incredible that was happening to him. Who knew, he might have been the first Narnian to come to this colourful city, filled with lights and strange people and bright signs. He didn't know how to name half of the things he saw passing by his window, but he realized then anyway that it was incredible, all of it.

He thought again of the old tales his teacher had once taught him, and he thought about the Queens and Kings of old who had become his family, and he thought of Aslan's roar, and a fight fought long ago to take back a land that his ancestors had stolen. He thought about the Narnian's faith in the fact that someone would come from this world he was in now to save them. Blind faith that couldn't be tainted despite all their sufferings. And eventually, as he crossed the Hudson River, shining under the pale sunlight of autumn, on the bridge so big, he hadn't thought it possible to build such a thing, as his brain got a little misty with awe, a thought formed in his mind. Maybe, just like Susan, Lucy, Edmund and Peter, and even Eustace later on, had come to Narnia for a reason, he had come to this world for a particular purpose.

Was he meant to help this world like the Pevensies had helped his? But this world seemed so big… even the buildings were gigantic. You were still inside New York, and had been driving for a while now… if this was only one of the cities, he could not begin to imagine how vast this world was. Besides, what about his world? He was King, he couldn’t just disappear…

But then, was it Aslan's will to make him cross through a world to the other? Was it the lion who had opened the portal for him?

Blind faith. Narnians had held a blind faith towards Aslan for so long, was it what he needed now? A blind faith that his journey here had a purpose?

Maybe… but what was his purpose then? The Pevensies had left every time they had reached their goal. Once their task was complete, they were sent home. Maybe it would work the same for him. If he managed to accomplish Alsan's will, then he would find a way back to where he belonged.

The only problem that remained was to find what his purpose was.

He looked at you again, the first time since his lie. As he studied your pensive expression, your slight frown and narrowed eyes and lips a little pinched, he wondered if there was a prophecy that would fit his mission here, just like there had been prophecies about his friends' travels to Narnia. Maybe that was the key…

He barely noticed the moment when trees replaced buildings. You were finally out of New York, the voice of the GPS still guiding your way. They were blurred by the speed of the car, green and orange and yellow shapes passing by too fast.

While Caspian wondered how to go back to his kingdom, you were analysing this feeling that had settled in your gut ever since Caspian had told you his story about being an actor. And this feeling was most definitely telling you that there was something wrong with this whole tale.

The fact that he was an actor could explain his odd attire, and his own strangeness. But only for a part. You couldn't imagine that none of his reactions were genuine. The way he looked at things around him like he was discovering them for the first time… besides, who on Earth would remain in character while he was being arrested? It didn't make any sense. That, or he was crazier than you had imagined, which wasn't exactly a reassuring thought.

But then, how did you explain this indescribable feeling of peace that you felt whenever he was around? You weren't afraid of him at all. And you should have been. Your first encounter was, after all, made of you knocking him out with your hairdryer. That was without a doubt… original.

The more you thought about the whole thing, the more you were certain that he had been bullshitting you from the start. And that made you quite infuriated. You reckoned that you had been of great help, the least he could do was being honest with you, right?

You still had half-an-hour to drive on when you finally decided that you couldn't keep quiet about this anymore. You would get the information out of him, he owed it to you.

"Caspian?"

He turned to you in silence, waiting for you to speak again. And you thought about how to ask the question that was on your mind, but you reckoned that the best way was the blunt one.

"You told me that you were an actor, and that was why you acted so… weird. But it's not true, is it?"

He clenched his jaw and remained silent. You heaved an annoyed sigh.

"Look, I have no idea who you truly are, but the whole thing doesn't make any sense to me. And I reckon that after I got you out of jail, allowed you to stay in my flat for the night, and now I'm driving you to find your friends… I deserve to at least know the truth, whatever it might be. And it's not just about a play, is it?"

He couldn’t deny that you were right. You had been too kind to him to deserve his lies. But could he really tell you the truth?

"I don't think you will believe me if I tell what truly happened," he answered in a slow, cautious tone.

"Try me anyway."

He heaved a sigh, searching for the right words. How could he tell you the truth…?

But then he thought about how Narnians knew there was something more. They knew the Pevensies didn't come from Narnia, so maybe, just maybe, you knew there was more than one world in the universe, more than one reality to explore. He thought about a prophecy that would send him home, and though he was still filled with doubts, he stopped hesitating.

"I… I don't come from this world."

You frowned hard.

"What do you mean?"

"I come from a place called Narnia. It's not here. It's… somewhere else."

"I don't understand."

"I stepped through a portal that brought me to your world. But I don't know how to go back."

"A portal?"

"Yes."

"A portal?" your voice more and more high-pitched, and he reckoned it wasn't a good sign.

"Yes."

"A portal?!"

"A passage between our two worlds."

"Right… right… look, if you won't tell me, then at least have the decency to not take me for a complete idiot."

"I am telling you the truth. There are portals linking our two realities, but the one I used to come to your world, and that led to your apartment, closed behind me. I need to find another, so I can go back to my kingdom."

"So you went through some king of… did you make that portal yourself or did a little fairy help you with it?"

He could hear through your dry tone that you didn't believe him. He had thought you wouldn't. Your world felt different, it felt… less magical. There was no other way to describe the way he felt, there was this bitter little weight upon his heart that had never been there in Narnia, and somehow, he could feel that the magic of his land was not here. Or at least, you didn't believe in it enough to see it.

The fact that you didn't believe him also meant that you knew nothing about a possible prophecy that would help him find his way back, and his shoulders bent a little more under an invisible burden that rested there.

"Why can't you just tell me the truth?" you sighed. "Nevermind… just… nevermind."

Caspian didn't speak again, and you checked the time left for the drive. 25 minutes. That promised to be a long ride.

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

 Agatha Pevensie was but an old and charming lady, who had had three children who had all left the little American town where she lived, preferring the opportunities that a big town offered. She was now living a quiet life with her three cats, in the house that had seen her children grow and her husband die. She was just finishing to tidy her living room after her friends left, supposedly to talk about this new book that they had all read, but actually it was only to speak about their lives and their crazy theories about their neighbours.

She did not expect any other visit for the day, and so she was surprised to say the least when she saw a car pulling over before her house and two people getting out of it, walking towards her front door. Especially when she noticed the man's strange clothes…

And you did indeed knock on her door.

She opened her blue door with a questioning frown.

"Yes?"

"Mrs. Pevensie?" you asked.

"Yes?"

"We're sorry to disturb you, but we are looking for someone you might be related to. Susan Pevensie? Or maybe Peter, or Lucy, or Edmund?"

Agatha went suddenly quite pale, and both you and Caspian frowned with worry.

"Who are you?" was her only answer.

"I’m Y/N Y/L/N. And this is Caspian…" you left your sentence hovering between the three of you for a moment as you realized that you didn’t know Caspian’s last name, but he didn’t say anything, so you went on instead. "Caspian here knows these people and he would be in need of a little help so we hoped…"

But Agatha interrupted you, her eyes wide open as she stared at Caspian.

"Caspian? Like in… Caspian X?"

For the first time since he had stumbled in this estranged world, Caspian broke into a genuinely happy smile.

"Yes. Yes, I am. Do you know Susan, Peter, Edmund and Lucy? Or Eustace perhaps?"

But her once pale features turned crimson as she frowned hard and turned from stunned to angry.

"Well, if you think that it’s funny to play tricks like that on an old lady!"

"No, no, no. I know them. I am Caspian X. Can you tell me where I can find my friends?"

"Yes, you are Caspian. And I am the Queen of England! You sure look like the old tales I read from Eustace’s books… but it ain’t funny, young man, to dress up and make an old woman relive some of her hard times. No, ain’t funny at all!"

"But… I… I’m not playing tricks…"

"How can you know that name anyway? Caspian? I never told that to anyone… did you steal the notebooks?"

Without another word she rushed inside and to her bedroom to check if the notebooks she kept there were safe. But Eustace’s notes were there alright, in the box where Agatha treasured them. She had found those as a child in her mother’s personal belongings, and the stories stored in their pages were the most amazing adventures she had ever heard. Her mother didn’t like her reading them, but no matter where she hid them, Agatha always found them again. Sometimes, she told Agatha other tales happening in this imaginary land her siblings and she had invented. Tales of a white witch and a roaring lion, or sometimes of a young prince fighting for his kingdom. The prince’s name was Caspian. He was a King in Eustace’s story…

But if the books were here… how could this young man know about Caspian?

These were just stories, after all… Agatha used to imagine that they were real though, because of how Eustace had described everything so well, with so much detail. Because of how her mother’s gaze drifted as if lost in distant memories whenever she spoke of this magical land called Narnia too. Deep down, a part of her, even though she had grown up, had kept this fool’s hope that maybe, just maybe, it was all true.

She stopped her train of thoughts, and instead, remembered the mysterious man on her doorstep. She hurried back and opened her front door just as you were about to give up and tell Caspian that you should leave.

Caspian gave her a look that held all the hope he had left in him.

"Please, we do not mean any harm. I really know them, I just want to ask my friends for help."

Could it be true then? Could the little doubt that had inhabited the darkest corner of her heart for all these years be true? What a crazy thought, and yet…

"What was the name of your boat?"

Caspian frowned hard.

"I beg your pardon?"

But Agatha repeated her question. Because there was no way anyone else in the world would know that.

When she told the stories to her own children, Agatha kept on changing the name of the ship. It was a game with her children to pick up a name of something they had liked during the day. Sometimes the vessel was named after a flower they had picked, a cookie they had eaten, or a cat they had found. No one but her, who had been the only one reading Eustace's journals, could know what the real name of the vessel was. So, she asked again.

"What was the name of your ship? The one you travelled on with Eustace."

"The Dawn Treader."

Agatha went paler again, her hands shaking as she held the notebooks.

"Oh, dear God…"

She opened her door wider and let you in while she tumbled to the closest armchair in her nearby living room.

"I… I never thought it was real but… how else could you know about the ship?" she mumbled under her breath, mostly to herself.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" you asked, the old lady seeming very shaken.

"Yes, yes…"

"I get that you do know Eustace then," Caspian smiled, kneeling before the elder woman. "And he must have told you our story!"

"I… I have read his stories many times," she nodded, handing him the notebooks.

Caspian smiled a tender smile as he went through the pages yellowed by time. He didn't seem to notice though, it was simply good to see the familiar handwriting again. He didn't think he would read anything new written with these hands.

"I am afraid that I am in desperate need of his help once more. Do you know where he is?"

Agatha suddenly seemed to realize something and merely stared at Caspian. You seized the moment of silence to ask your own question.

"So… do you guys know each other?"

"No, no we have never met before," Caspian shook his head, and so did Agatha. "But you are related to the Pevensies, are you not?"

"Yes… yes, I am. But how can you be here? You… you're not even supposed to be real…"

"I found the lamppost."

"The lamppost? Do you mean… the one that Lucy found?"

"Yes. The one that marks the border of Narnia. I found it, and I… I was too curious, I went further on. And I must have found a passage of some kind between our two worlds. Before I knew what was happening, I was stepping into Y/N's home. She was very kind to me and helped me found you. I must find a way to travel back to Narnia. I'm sure your family will know a way."

You were expecting Agatha to laugh right into his face at his crazy words about a lamppost and travelling from Narnia to your flat, but she didn't. Instead, she believed him. She took his whole story in in the blink of an eye, and didn't consider him mad at all.

You did believe that the two of them didn't know each other, you could see it on both of their faces as they met that they didn't recognize each other. And these mysterious friends had to exist as she seemed to know about them.

But then, her accepting his story – and she even seemed to know some things about this… Narnia place – meant that you were either surrounded by two mad persons, or Caspian had been honest with you in the car when he had told you his crazy tale about another world…

Agatha's expression grew sadder and sadder as silent minutes flew by. Eventually, she reached for Caspian's hands with tears in her eyes.

"I am so sorry, but you can't see them. Not any of them."

"Why not? Are they not in this town? I will travel, go to them. By Aslan's name, it's been three years now since I last saw Eustace and Lucy, they must have grown so much!"

But Agatha shook her head.

"It hasn't been three years. It has been much longer."

Caspian frowned.

"How long?"

"Time doesn't seem to always flow the same way in our two worlds."

"I know… but sometimes it does. It… depends… on what we need, I guess. On who we need."

"I'm sorry, but it has been many decades since their last trip to Narnia. They are all gone now."

Caspian didn't move. He understood the words, and yet, to him they held no meaning. His mind refused to give them any meaning…

"Gone? What do you mean 'gone'?"

"They are dead."

Caspian stopped breathing altogether, his eyes widening with horror, but his brain still shushed by denial. His body reacted faster than his mind, and he shook his head, refusing to accept the implication, pushing away the words that were thrown at him.

"Susan was my mother," Agatha went on. "She died thirteen years ago. The rest of her family, including Eustace, died many, many years before. There was an accident. They were all killed in a train when they were still very young. I have never met them, I was born later."

"No…" Caspian whispered, shaking, his heart beating too fast and his breath caught in his tightened throat and his head spinning and…

"Caspian? You're alright?" you asked with worry.

He didn't answer, his gaze going blank.

You rested your hand on his shoulder, but he didn't react. You turned to Agatha, because there was something very, very wrong with this whole ordeal…

If her mother died thirteen years before, and her family died even before that then… how could Caspian know them? He was still fairly young, after all…

"When did they die? In the accident, I mean?"

"1949."

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline, almost.

"Time is not the same here and in Narnia, it has been three years for him, apparently," Agatha explained to you in calm words, like… like it was really all real…

Your logical brain told you it couldn't. Your heart made you doubt logic, there was no other explanation, after all…

All of a sudden, Caspian jumped to his feet, startling you. He strode to the door and into the street.

The Pevensies couldn't be dead, they were his family. They were his brothers and sisters, the family he had found and chosen for himself, and he loved them so deeply, he needed them to be well, he… he needed them to have a life in this world. He needed that crazy hope that despite Aslan's words they would come back to Narnia one day and he would hug them tight and they would laugh and talk about their time apart and feast in the great halls he had finished building while they were away in Cair Paravel and Reepicheep would be hilarious with Lucy and Eustace and Peter and him would drink too much wine and…

There was a sob there, stuck in his throat, that was finally freed, and shook his whole frame.

Once more, he was alone. He was an orphan without a family all over again. He couldn't go back to Narnia, he couldn’t find his way back to his people. He was failing the ones who needed him most all over again, the same way he did before the Pevensies came. And now they were gone. How could he go home?

He was lost, and alone, and this time… this time he could find no trace of hope left in his heart. He had no idea what to do now.

He didn't even notice it as he started to run. His lungs were begging for air before he started his race, but he didn't notice it either. It was his reaction to it all.

Run. Run as fast as he could, because he wasn't strong enough to deal with it all.

And so he did. He ran and ran down the street without even thinking about a car that might come, nor wondering in which direction he was running. He didn't care. He wasn't running towards something, he was running away from everything.

He didn't hear you and Agatha calling after him. He didn't hear you screaming his name through the street covered in the red leaves of maple trees. He didn't hear you, he didn't turn to look back at you… anyway, the tears that shook him whole and tore up his lungs and wetted his cheeks made the whole world a mere blur. He couldn't see where he was going, and he didn't care.

He just… ran.

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

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@marvelcapsicle​

[sonicringbond]

Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey - Scene 34

Part 2 of 4 is here and it’s time for Sonic to get into some huge trouble. Absolutely enormous actually. Though if you couldn’t tell I don’t have much to say about this scene beforehand, so how about we just jump right into...

    ~It’s frustrating, but I guess I can’t complain. I pushed myself too hard and this is what I get. But getting sick sucks! I wanted to run with Sonic and see what he came to these mountains to find. He wasn’t holding back either with his running, so I was going to have to get better in a hurry to keep up. It was the perfect opportunity, but instead I passed out because of a fever. Ooh~! How embarrassing and frustrating!

    ~Really though, I wonder what Sonic came here for…~

    “What is with that fairy!” Draw yelled at the top of his lungs as he struggled as best as he could to run while holding Rosy in his arms. “Don’t they realize I can’t use my bow if I’m carrying this weirdo girl!”

    Being smaller than Rosy made it hard enough for Draw to run back down through the chasm they ascended through the mountain range, but an onset of rain and a plethora of stone golems made the young golem hunter’s life extremely difficult. Though he was not alone in having to fend of the golems.

    Unlike Draw, Sonic had nothing slowing him down and every golem that challenged him was quickly reduced to a heap of rubble. Consequently, Sonic’s path was marked by a trail of the unusual flowers with blooms of light that sprouted after their shimmering seeds were freed form the crystal cores of the golems. It proved fortuitous bread crumb trail for the fairy who followed Sonic further up the mountains into their forested peaks.

    “I guess you don’t trust me?” Sonic directed a question to Mote as he took a moment to climb to the top of a tree to get a better view of the ruins ahead of him. Mote did not draw nearer though as Sonic surveyed his environment and the hedgehog shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t matter as long as the tyke keeps Amy safe.”

    Leaping from the tree, Sonic continued his ascent and found a challenge to his liking as the naturally polished stonework of the ruins took on far more complex shapes than he had grown accustomed to seeing. Massive gears and cogs turned and gave life to the ruin, redirecting rainwater into channels built to receive it long ago while the perpetual motion of the gears also served to keep anything larger than moss from growing on the ancient machinery. Rosy would have marveled at the sight, but Sonic could only shake his head as he zipped through barely taking any time to appreciate the vista.

    “Maybe another time, as long as the “god” here is nice that is. We had to burn her out or there wasn’t going to be a way to help her.”

    Sonic wasn’t one for talking out loud, but he figured Mote would hear him even if it did not acknowledge he had noticed it. The least he could do was give it a hint to what he was up to while it tailed him. Making it even clearer, Sonic reached into his spines to where he had stashed them and confirmed that Rosy’s tarot cards were still secure in their waterproof case.

    There were no more hints Sonic intended to give however as time was of the essence. Fast as he was, and as much as he had pushed Rosy to her breaking point on purpose, rain and mist slicked mountains were no place for someone with a fever. But he could not just collect the hundred Rings and run. Rosy had not been sleeping for some time and continued to push herself believing she could bear through it with her seemingly limitless energy. But Sonic knew from experience how important sleep was and knew he stood no chance at getting Rosy home safely with just the two of them and Draw if she didn’t get any sleep. To that end he sought out one of the powers that could likely be affecting her as she watched the ominous little planet in the sky day and night.

    “You sure you should be here?” Sonic shot a question Mote’s way as he came to a stop at the end of a towering flight of stairs that spiraled through the clockwork ruin. “From what the tyke tells me, you can’t even interact with a medium, so should you really be seeking an audience with a god?”

    The yellow fairy simply looked at Sonic impatiently and he could not help but smirk. “Suit yourself, unless you mean to tell me I’ve come all this way for nothing. Though the welcoming committee is telling me otherwise.”

    The golems did not bother Sonic in the least even though they were powerful, and the green energy beams they blasted from their cores were destructive to the point they could force most matter back into the Rings that once formed it. But Sonic easily destroyed the golems and turned the courtyard before what he believed was a temple into a flower garden lush with flowers of light. Barely acknowledging his handiwork, Sonic strode into the main temple and at the end of a long columned hall of staggering height, he found what he sought.

    “So, this is the stone god who dwells in the Misty Mountains huh?”

    With Mote taking cover in his spines, Sonic withdrew Rosy’s cards and strolled forward at a leisurely pace. Cocky as it looked, Sonic was being especially careful as he could feel the weight of the presence in the hall. And as the giant before him was very much like the one Rosy helped Draw defeat when they first met it was undoubtable that the golem was tremendous in physical weight as well presence.

    With fists the size of a ten-story building and arms that formed a massive, pointed arch, the golem was almost a structure itself within the temple that held it. Unlike most simple golems though, it had a head that resembled a short beaked dragon or perhaps a gargoyle. Below the head a massive arrangement of gears and gyros swirled and turned around a crystal rose nearly the size of the construct’s fists. The blue glow it bathed the room in though alone separated it from the nature of the golems who it shared its form with. And the blue glowing eyes it opened and looked down upon Sonic with.

    “Yo!” Sonic greeted with a two-fingered wave, “I brought a gift for you!

    “Or maybe that’s too informal.”

    Deciding he was perhaps actually being disrespectful, Sonic stood up straight and clapped his hands together twice before bowing with his hands pressed together. After a short pause he stood and continued strolling forward past the paper talismans that encircled the massive golem.

    “Anyway, how about that gift, big guy?” Sonic asked with a wink as a twinkling of golden motes of light gave way to a Ring that Sonic twirled along his finger as he walked.

    It was not easy for Sonic to maintain his swagger however as the presence of the golem was crushing and seemed to push him back with every step he took. Still, Sonic pressed forward and held out the Ring as though he was looking to shake hands with the stone monstrosity.

    “Come on big guy, nothing wrong with a little harmless gift!”

    So engulfed in the golem’s presence, Sonic smirked as he made eye contact and knew he was not looking at a mere golem. Still, the Ring he held burst into a cloud of the golden motes of light typically left behind by collected and used Rings and swirled around Sonic and the entity he had presented himself to. One that warned him of his actions immediately with the ability to speak he shared with it.

    “You have made a choice that would bring death to most Ring Mage.”

    “Sorry,” Sonic apologized as he scratched around a moment in his ear before blowing on his finger. “But two problems there. I don’t know what a Ring Mage is supposed to be, and giving you a voice to speak with is a gift.”

    “The voices of gods should only be heard by our chosen, the mediums.”

    “Like the girl who’s been unable to sleep because someone can’t seem to clam up. Sorry, but I’ve had enough of watching her trying to smile away how much she’s suffering. So, we can talk like I came here to do, or you can keep making empty threats.”

    “Brazen, child who runs upon the flesh of Gaia.”

    “From what I recall a nice guy who’d help me and the kid out without a second thought. So, what about you? Or are you going to look up at that planet in the sky in fear too?”

    “You are foolish to challenge me mortal.”

    “No,” Sonic rubbed his nose as he watched the gears that surround the entity’s core begin to spin and churn with greater life as the giant rose from where it had rested. “I just have a friend I promised to get home and I’m not letting anyone get in my way.”

    “Foolish, but perhaps you will amuse Yoluku.”

    “A test first huh,” Sonic smirked as a bead of sweat ran down the side of his face.

    “You would have me challenge Yoluku, mortal. It is only natural that I test you to know that you can stand against the tide you would call.”

    “Yeah, a tide of egg yolks sounds awful,” Sonic smirked and purposely twisted the name he was given. His wit was met with mirthful laughter and a promise of destruction.

    “Your mocking of Yoluku will perhaps earn me praise with your destruction mortal. So be it, amuse me with your pitiable attempts to survive my fury.”

    “Time to run,” Sonic whispered back into his quills to Mote as the entity rose, lifted on a skeletal trunk and legs of blue light to a height that destroyed the temple that housed it.

    From further down the mountain, Draw was knocked from his feet by the force of the entity standing. Dropped Rosy, the unconscious hedgehog girl nearly rolling over the edge of the ravine the koala had been running beside. “Now wha–~?”

    Draw never finished his question as he looked back up the mountains and saw the storm had rose well above them and grew in intensity, becoming a lightning filled crown to the giant at their peak. Adorning that crown, the little planet that watched Rosy day and night looked down upon the trial about to befall Sonic and the koala.

    “Is that really a god? And did that blue idiot actually challenge it? What is wrong with you and your friends you weirdo girl! Just who do you people think you are!”

    Held fast by fevered sleep, Draw’s questions fell on deaf ears and Rosy offered him no reply. The voice of the entity atop the mountains however was clearly heard by all the golems upon them and Draw.

    “Wake my children, let the cries of the Children of Gaia surge in you and become your strength. Bring me the medium and destroy all who would challenge you.”

    “You really are going to get me killed,” Draw swallowed as he crept towards Rosy and readied his bow, notching an arrow as he eyed the golems that seemed to rise from the mountains themselves.

Scene 34 · CLEARED Sonic & Rosy, to be continued

-----

And now Sonic has angered the neighborhood god. He really should know better, but he’s just trying to get Rosy the help she needs XD But on a whole, the story is actually heading towards a major development soon and Sonic’s tendency to challenge gods is necessary for it to really work. But that might be too much of a hint so I’ll see my lips here and hope everyone is hyped for the next scene!

-----

Special Thanks to Cutegirlmayra Story by @JoshTarwater/SonicFanJ Inspiring Song – One Last Kiss – Hikaru Utada – From Neon Genesis Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time

Fair Use Disclaimer

Sonic the Hedgehog and all affiliated characters and logos are the express property and Copyright© of SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS used without permission under Title 17 U.S.C Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976 in which allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. “Fair use” is use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be considered copyright infringement. The Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey alternate universe (AU) consumer written work of fiction is a non-profit transformative work primarily for personal use and can and will be taken down without warning or prior notice at the request of the copyright holder(s) should it not be recognized under “fair use”.

*Sonic Ring Bond logo created by DEE Art – twitter.com/daryliscute.

Sonic Ring Bond AU and Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey are the creation of Joshua David Tarwater/ynymbus/sonicfanj/@Joshtarwater and is to be, including all contents herein considered for all legal purposes the property of the Sonic the Hedgehog intellectual property (IP) and copyright owners, SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS. All story contributors via prompt, suggestion, written scene, art, and all and every other contribution acknowledge that all contributed material is forfeit for legal purposes to SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS upon official request from SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.

[megalony]

Black heart- Part 2

This is the second part of my new murderer! Ben Hardy series which I hope everyone will enjoy.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms

Series taglist: @rogersatop

Summary: (Y/n) knows being with Ben isn’t the best idea but she loves him and they have a daughter together. But when Ben takes things too far, (Y/n) tries to take their daughter and leave… but Ben isn’t giving them up so easily.

Murderer Ben masterlist

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silent tears fell down (Y/n)'s features as her eyes stared half-lidded at the window opposite her that she had stared out of for the past half an hour. She stared out of the misty window with a plain expression on her features, looking as if she was waiting for the window to reveal all the answers that she needed in the world.

Her head fell back against the sofa as she wondered how things had gotten to this point.

She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be somewhere that didn't feel like home where she was isolated and alone for her own safety, of her own accord. (Y/n) felt like she was a prisoner in this home even though she had placed herself here. She wanted to be back in her own home with Ben. Back in the apartment that had grey and black walls which felt more homely than one would first think. She wanted to be in the home that had windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling and allowed her to look out upon the rooftops and see the streetlights and signs in the vast city.

(Y/n) wanted to be back where she had her own pictures on the walls and her ornaments and books and candles and covers and pillows and the rest of her clothes.

She wanted to be back where she and Ben had decorated Rory's room and made it feel and look special and homely.

But most of all, she wanted to be back with Ben.

It was incomprehensible to (Y/n) that she was yearning so much to be back with someone who had treated her so badly. She shouldn't want to be back with Ben after what he had done, she should want to find him in prison where he belonged or dead in a ditch. She should wish that one of his enemies had caught up with him and given him a taste of his own medicine.

But all (Y/n) could think of was being back in his arms where she felt safe, even though he was the one who had caused her the most harm. She wanted to be back at home where he would suddenly walk up behind her and wrap his arms around her like his life depended on it. She wanted to be home where Ben would grin at her like the Cheshire cat or walk over to her slowly as if he was trying to savour the moment or send shivers down her spine.

(Y/n) wanted to be back home where Ben would be or where he would get one of his men to watch over her just to calm himself down so he knew that she was okay.

But (Y/n) couldn't go back home anymore, not unless she wanted to subject herself to the kind of relationship she had promised herself she would never allow to happen. She couldn't go home to Ben where he might take to abusing her again if she stepped out of the lines that he had drawn around her to keep her in line. She couldn't go home and act as if everything was fine because it wasn't and she couldn't let their relationship continue.

She had promised herself that when she left, she wouldn't break and scurry back to Ben and grovel at his feet. (Y/n) told herself that if she left, she would stay away from Ben to prove a point to him and make him either change his ways or leave her alone for good.

Ben leaving her alone for good was something that (Y/n) simply knew was never going to happen because of Rory. Ben had shown (Y/n) that he could hurt her without a second thought and she knew that made him more dangerous than she first thought, but she didn't know about Rory. (Y/n) didn't know if Ben would ever lay a hand on Rory, because she was different. She was his flesh and blood, she was his daughter and in those first two weeks, Ben had been someone else whenever he was around his girl.

Something inside (Y/n) told her that Ben was never going to hurt Rory but she wasn't leaving without her. After what Ben had done to her, (Y/n) waited for a few days before managing to escape and she made sure her daughter was going with her.

(Y/n) slowly rose her hand to wipe the tears on her sleeve as she couldn't seem to drag her eyes away from the window. The rain that was cascading down the window pane simply made (Y/n) revert back to when she was home with Ben. There was something about the rain that always caught Ben's attention and enticed him. (Y/n) wished she could turn back time and be back in the apartment with Ben, sitting between his legs as they watched the rain fall as they sat in comfortable silence.

That was a time when (Y/n) felt happy, a time where she thought the future ahead of her was going to be a good one.

Now the future looked bleak and worrying. The future was uncertain and (Y/n) was afraid that one wrong move on her part would cause everything to come crashing down. There had been a brief moment when Ben had done what he did to her that (Y/n) thought there would be no future.

There had been a moment where (Y/n) thought that her life was going to be different. She thought that she would no longer feel loved and protected by Ben, she would no longer feel like she was important to him or the mother of his child. She felt like she was going to be trapped with someone who could both love and hurt her without thinking that it was wrong. Ben didn't think that hurting her was something that was a bad thing, he thought that if he deemed she deserved to be abused, then he could do that as well as love her at the same time.

(Y/n)'s eyes snapped closed as her arms tensed when the sound of the lock on the door chimed. Every muscle in her body felt like it was being stretched and torn as her heart started to pound louder against her ribcage. The air was held in her lungs that were quaking in her chest to the point that every part of her body started to ache and burn.

"Hey, how are you doing?"

A shallow breath managed to escape (Y/n)'s lips before her chest started to shudder and she couldn't help how her lips pulled down at the corners. Nothing she did was stopping her lower lip from falling as the tears burned down her face causing a sob to bubble past her lips that she desperately tried to swallow.

No matter how many times she told herself that she was safe, (Y/n) simply didn't feel like she was.

Every time she heard the lock chiming and the door opening, (Y/n) thought it was going to be Ben storming inside or walking in deadly slow, having finally found where she was hiding. She thought that her time was up and she was going to be hurt or forced into a relationship that no longer felt loving like it once had.

But when she heard Joe's soft, gentle voice, (Y/n) felt a sob burning against her throat because she was safe. Ben wasn't here to get to her and yet, there was the smallest part of her that wished he was. It would be so much easier if Ben just walked through the door and found her because then everything would stop. She would stop feeling the dwelling anxiety every second of the day, she wouldn't have to rely on Gwilym and Joe to help her when they all knew that Ben inevitably was going to find her one day.

He wasn't going to give up until he did.

"Oh, (Y/n)." Joe sighed the moment he heard the smallest cry pass through her lips. He set down the few bags on the counter before he walked into the lounge and sat down next to her on the sofa.

(Y/n) started to shake when Joe wrapped his arms around her frame, gently pulling her into his chest as he leaned his chin on the top of her head.

Joe hadn't been able to refuse when (Y/n) asked him to help her get away from Ben. He had enlisted Gwilym to help and both men were risking their lives here because they were going against Ben by helping his girlfriend escape him with their child. But when they had seen the damage that Ben had caused to (Y/n), they felt obliged to help her. There was no way they could let (Y/n) stay with Ben after how he had abused her and they were afraid for both her and Rory's safety.

They had shifted (Y/n)'s money into various accounts to stop Ben from being able to trace her money so they could help her get a new apartment under a new name and then during the night when Ben was out, they helped her move. It was safer for (Y/n) to stay in the flat with Rory and for the boys to get her whatever she needed.

Ben had most of his men scouring the streets to find (Y/n) because Ben wasn't giving up so lightly. (Y/n) had gone but as much as Ben wanted her back, he wanted Rory back with him too. She had taken his daughter and Ben was never going to stop looking until he found them both.

"J-just tell him I'm here... he's gonna find me." (Y/n) whispered quietly as she buried her face into Joe's chest. She couldn't thank both him and Gwilym enough for helping her but she was risking all of them. She was putting the boys at risk for helping her hideout and if Ben found out they would either be severely punished or wind up dead. And when Ben found (Y/n) she would most likely be punished too.

It would be easier for them to just tell Ben she was here and suffer the consequences.

"(Y/n), listen to me. You and Rory are safe here, I promise. I'm not telling Ben you're here so he can hurt you again. When you're better we'll sort something else out, get you out of the country or somewhere else so you can start again, you just have to wait it out here for a while, that's all."

Joe wasn't going to ruin all of what they had done and let Ben know she was here. She was hurt and recovering from what Ben had done to her so she needed to stay here and rest. Once the dust had blown over they could either try and get (Y/n) and Rory out of the country or they could get her out of London and find somewhere for her to start a new life. Either way, (Y/n) just had to stay in the flat and wait for a while to recover before she could start again.

Joe knew that once she was able to go out and walk the streets and be with Rory without worrying, she would know this was what was best for her.

"H-how is he?" Joe knew that (Y/n) wasn't asking how Ben was holding up since she left two weeks ago. She was asking if Ben was still fuming and taking his anger out on everyone. She was asking if Ben was getting any closer to finding where she and Rory were, she wanted to know if Ben was getting desperate or close to giving up or if he was simply getting more determined.

"Still fuming, he's got men checking all the airports and train stations for you. But he isn't anywhere near close to getting to you I swear."

Ben had got most of his men scouring the streets, checking the trains and the airports to see if (Y/n) had tried to leave the country or leave London. He was cracking down on the streets to try and find (Y/n) but Ben was stumped for ideas. He didn't think one of his men would help her, let alone two of them because they all had been briefed. If they knew where she and Rory were and they said nothing, they would be severely punished.

He had no idea that (Y/n) had gotten an apartment or that she had stayed in London, he didn't know where she was and it was aggravating him to no end.

(Y/n) slowly pulled away from Joe when Rory's cries reached their ears but Joe gently held her shoulders to keep her sitting down so he could go and see to Rory instead. Joe had grown fond of the newborn since he had been helping (Y/n) these past two weeks.

With bleak eyes, (Y/n) watched Joe get up from the sofa and disappear to go and see to Rory. When Joe disappeared from sight, (Y/n) slowly pushed herself so she was sitting forward, her elbows resting on her knees as her eyes drifted over to look to her right. Joe and Gwilym were helping hands when it came to tending to Rory because of the injuries Ben had imposed on (Y/n), some of which now reduced her to needing crutches.

Ben was a boxer by nature, so it had been very clear to (Y/n) that when he said he would punish her, his fists were going to be his weapons against her. But the injuries he imposed were not the part that had shattered (Y/n)'s mental state. It was the words he had whispered, the vile notions he had spoken of and the other things he had done that had sent her mind reeling.

Physically, Ben had decided that he would break three of (Y/n)'s ribs, dislocate both her jaw and left knee. He also bruised each column of her spine, but the physical injuries were nothing compared to the mental scars he had decided to slash into her mind.

(Y/n) had done her best over the last two weeks to try and rid the night from her memory but she couldn't.

She couldn't forget the way he had grinned at her with such a sinister curve to his lips that was now imprinted on her mind. Or the way he had listened to her cries and screams and drank them like they would quench his thirst for the rest of his life. His eyes had turned black as he watched her tears flow and the more that left her eyes, the wider his grin became.

Parts of the night had been swiped by her mind to save her from the pain of having to relieve them. But those parts that her mind had censored seemed to flood back to her in the dead of night if her mind couldn't calm down enough to get her to go to sleep. The only relief (Y/n) had was the painkillers she had gotten from the doctor to take away all the aches and pains she was feeling. Those tablets sent her mind into such a tranquil, drowsy state that some nights, she could sleep throughout and sometimes, she could take calming naps during the day too.

No matter how safe she felt now that she was out of Ben's grasp and whatever Joe and Gwilym said to her, (Y/n) knew the truth.

Ben was twisted, he was cruel, cold, brutal and had a heart made of coal that she doubted even beated anymore. But most of all, despite everything, Ben thought that he loved (Y/n), and he loved Rory too. That twisted, sinister kind of love he had for them meant that he wasn't going to let them walk out of his life. He was going to do everything in his power to track them down no matter the cost.

(Y/n) knew it was just a matter of time before he found them.

[bekahdoesnerdshit]

no one else has reblogged ask meme Mondays so I'm just going fucking apeshit with u. from the big boy: b7 for raini bc it's funny, c1 for cog bc it's inchresting, h3 for brilliance bc I know there's some gay shit going on and I want to hear more, then a17 (character proud of themselves or ur proud of ur rp as them) L5 and L6 for whomsoever u want to talk about

I won’t need a readmore for this one, I tell myself. There’s not that many questions, and they’re not proseboys. I was a fool. She’s too long to be allowed to run on people’s dashboards unrestrained 😔 Thank you! For going apeshit!!

Raini

B7. How do they respond to babies crying in public? I guarantee the image you have for how Raini would react to a crying baby is 10000% correct. She’s unhappy. Uncomfortable. Unimpressed. Can you please make that thing be quiet. Why did you have it if you can’t mange it. This is why she’s never having kids. Like she’s not gonna say anything to the parents or shoot them dirty looks, because she’s not that specific flavor of asshole, but she’s going Mind Her Business and vacate the premises if possible. People who want to take care of something should just get a cat. Goddamn. There is ONE (1) baby that may qualify for an exception, and that’s Red. This is because (and please, picture Raini, the absolute picture of ‘fed up’, squatting down to look a fussy Red in the eye while she says this) “Baby Lent. You’re better than this. I know you are, and you’re letting me down. You need to stop making that noise.” This is unrelated to the question, but please also picture a Raini who was asked (blackmailed?) into babysitting using her Mage Hand to change Red’s diaper. It has nothing to do with the question but I think it’s a Very funny mental image. Thank you.

Cog

C1. Does your OC have a moral code? If not, how do they base their actions? If so, where does it come from, and how seriously do they take it? Absolutely! The way Cog approaches the world is defined by three main mantras: - Kindness is a discipline, not a character trait. - Doing the right thing isn’t always easy, but it is always worth doing. - If you are able to help someone, you have an obligation to do so. Between these three things, Cog sees the world in pretty black and white terms. There are right decisions, and wrong ones. The difference between the two is usually clear to anyone who cares to look, and so most of the evil in the world is born of selfishness. Consequently, Cog does very poorly in morally grey situations. She will commit without hesitation to any course of action that she deems “right” and “kind” no matter how drastic or dangerous it is, but she pretty much shuts down the second she’s faced with a decision that has consequences for someone regardless of what she does.  I’m sure that has not, and will not, come in her life ever at all. Ahah!  I think originally, this worldview was born of naivety. She grew up that religious kind of super sheltered where everything in the secular world was dangerous and dirty, and so when Cog began to realize that definitely wasn’t the case she made the choice to intentionally see the best in people and the world around her to fight what she was told growing up. When she started traveling with her party and actually seeing more of the world than the extremes of a) shitty cult town b) shiny clean magic school, she began to realize that the true state of the Wasteland was somewhere between what her Mama had told her and what she wanted to believe it was. But I’ve never in my life made a character who is stubborn as hell deep down, so instead of letting the world she found herself in change her Cog took a deep breath, rolled up her sleeves, and settled in to be the one changing it by loving and helping the people around her.

Brilliance

H3. Does your OC believe there’s only one ideal partner (or multiple ideal if not monogamous) for everyone, or that there are many people who could be right? I think Brilliance absolutely adores the idea of two people being made for one another. Two souls, wandering the world looking for one another? Who slot together so perfectly that when they find each other it’s clear they never could have fit anywhere else? Bruh. Yes, she knows love takes work. Sometimes you and your partner are going to disagree, and sometimes there’s going to be conflict. The world isn’t “love at first sight” then smooth sailing for the rest of your life. But you put in the work to make your lives better, together, because the universe gave you this person to care for. Maybe there are many people who you could be happy with, and those relationships aren’t anything to look down on. But when you find The One, Brilliance thinks, you know. She certainly did.

Don’t Worry About It

A17. What’s one of your OC’s proudest moments of themselves? Gonna hijack this question to talk about rp moments I’m proud of because Alex sorta kinda gave me permission to do that! Alright! For Raini, the biggest rp moment I’m proud of was her “I’m getting our memories back” speech a few sessions ago, specifically the line, “We’ve been fighting with one hand tied behind our backs for too long. If we’re going to die fighting this thing, I want to know exactly what I’m fighting for.” Morgan and I had been planning to kick off our return from July Hell Hiatus with Wish Two for a couple of days, which meant I was lucky enough to be able to spend a little while planning what to say. I feel like that line in particular embodies Raini’s unwavering confidence in her magic, her determination, and her specific brand of caring for the people around her without actually admitting that’s what she’s doing. I also really liked the way the scene of her apologizing to the party for being Bitchy post losing Magic for a minute went! Idk if anyone else remembers it, because it was pretty short in game, but! I thought it was a very good moment of Raini finding the most Roundabout way to say “thank you for looking out for me while I was defenseless”.  If I can pat myself on the back a little, my Cog monologues kick Ass. The most recent one was when she was talking to Ace about how War is Bad (radical, I know) and there was a moment where she looked at him and said, “...I’m not going to ask for your help, because I don’t know what I’ll do if I do and you say no.” Which. OOF. That was her and I realizing in real time that she and Ace were very much on different sides of this issue. When the session ended everyone said they Loved how good and hurtful that conversation was and I :’) Also, there was a really small moment when Cog was pleading for Maelo’s life (when Sunny’s dad had him locked in a cat carrier. It’s a Long story, made slightly better by the fact that Maelo was wildshaped into a cat at the time) and Cog went Straight for the dad heartstrings by sniffling and asking if, please, would Robert at least let her say goodbye to her friend before he killed him? Please? 😢  She is using her baby face for EVIL!  And oh my god how could I forget! Arcane Timeout! When the party went back to New Alexandria and was confronted by Ace for helping a prisoner escape (which, in fairness, Maelo did do) and Cog brought the encounter screeching to a halt by casting Wall of Stone to make a timeout hut with herself and Ace inside. She then sat herself down, looked Ace dead in the eye, and told him that the wall wasn’t coming down until he actually talked to her, or until he broke her concentration on the spell. She banked hard on him not being willing to hurt her, and it paid off. There were tears all around, both in and out of character. It was Wonderful. Also! I do just want recognition for the fact that I did not give into my impulses to be a little Shit as Cog last session by subtle casting Heal in Ace’s face after he Counterspelled my Healing Word. it was what I Rebekah wanted to do more than anything; unfortunately Cog is a better person than I am. There is No worse feeling than wanting so badly to do something you have no choice but to admit isn’t in character. Rip.  For whatever reason, all of my favorite Brilliance rp moments came during combat. Pressing her forehead to Sabre’s after he died in silent grief, forcefully taking a Narzugon off his Nightmare and then using Misty Step to mount it herself and take off after her friend, planting herself in the chokepoint of a hallway to stare down three minotaurs so she could keep her party safe behind her, pushing deeper into the hellwasp nest to rescue Dembe and Sabre despite knowing that doing so all but destroyed her chance of making it out alive, the list goes on. There were good out of combat moments too (despite the rest of the party’s best efforts 🙄), but I feel like for once I made a character who really shone in combat.  oh GOD I just remembered one really really good rp moment, when our rogue Zihro died when he got separated from the party during combat. We finished taking care of the main devil we were fighting, then began searching the dungeon for Zihro and the npc he was with. We, instead, found both of their corpses. Dembe looked to Brilliance, our healer, and demanded to know why she was just standing there instead of fixing their friend. We were only level three or four at the time, so Brilliance had to tell Dembe, again and again, that she couldn’t fix Zihro. It was too late, she wasn’t powerful enough yet, her goddess wouldn’t answer a prayer like that- It was a rough scene, and without question one of the best rp moments I’ve had with that group. Tae, if you’re reading this, you’re the only one with rights. Also, please unfollow this blog immediately.  Now as a quick pick-me-up after that mess, Pip’s best rp moment was when our barbarian Durokal -who couldn’t read and had a habit of running off and causing Problems- found a plaque he could tell had five words on it, and called Pip over to read it for him when Pip finished chasing him down. Pip, annoyed and out of breath and all of two feet tall, looked up at this 7 foot half-orc and told him, “It says: I’m. Gonna. Kick. Your. Ass.” Also, he regularly called very powerful figures in Barovia by sweet nicknames with “Mr.” in the front. As a sign of Respect. Because he’s the Best. sdfhsdkfj he also he couldn’t think of a fake name quick enough one time so he told an npc that is name was Dick and he was Very embarrassed about it. She: bought it!

Brilliance, Again

L5. Which OC do you think is the most decent morally or behaviorally?  AKA, which is supposed to a “good guy”? The answer is Cog, but we already went in depth on her morals this ask. She’s HAD enough screen time let’s move on. Brilliance is the only other character who, if asked, would say they saw themselves as a good guy instead of just “a person”. She strives to do right by the people around her, and to protect the light and beauty found in the world. She doesn’t have the same illusions about the world wanting to be a good place that Cog does, and she very much understands that sometimes the best thing you can do for the world is to put the things that make it dangerous six feet under. What’s interesting I think is that, despite being a paladin, she isn’t Lawful Good! She’s Neutral Good, because you know what? She wants to do the right thing, and laws aren’t always right. It’s up to you, as a person with a mind and free will and agency, to look at a situation and decide what you think is the right thing to do. And, for Brilliance, generally the right thing to do is heft her sword, raise her shield, and face trouble head on.

Raini, Once More

L6. Which OC do you think is the worst morally or behaviorally? AKA, which is supposed to be a “bad guy”? I don’t have any evil aligned characters, because I personally find things like “getting along with my party members” sexy, but the character who’s the shittiest and the worst is obviously Raini. She’s not a bad person per say, she’s just selfish and results oriented. Very much “the ends justify the means” and in a party like hers she’s aware that somebody has to be the bad guy sometimes, and she’s not afraid to make sure that’s her. She’s also very very likely to fall victim to her hubris making her feel like she definitely knows what’s best, and acting on that maybe without consulting other people (see: the whole fucking premise of the campaign). She sees a goal, she sees a way to accomplish that goal, so why shouldn’t she begin taking the necessary steps to reach it? I think the events of the game have mellowed this flaw out a little bit, but you can still see traces of it in the way she, for example, wordlessly handed Lent a bunch of diamonds before launching her consciousness into the Abeast and very nearly dying in there without consulting with the party first. It happens!  Also, behaviorally, she’s just. I mean. She’s like that. The worst. And that, I promise, will never change. 

[forever-rogue]

Unintended Consequences - Part 1

A/N: Firstly, I want to say thank you all so much for all the support on the little sneak peek I put out last week! It really means a lot! So, here is the first official part, which is a little prologue to set the scene. Please enjoy and let me know what you think! xx

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: none

MASTERLIST

It was an unseasonably hot summer day in the quiet suburb of England. People had flocked to the seaside to escape the heart and enjoy a cool breeze, or retreated indoors to avoid it all together. But not little Y/N, who was barely six years and staring at the winding concrete path before her.

She looked at ground dismally, horrified by the fact that her ice cream had slid off of it’s waffle cone and plopped to the ground. The sweet cream was quickly melting under the rays of the scorching sun, spreading out everywhere and almost seeping into her sandals.

Her little bottom lip quivered as she watched her favorite dessert disappear. She had been a good girl all week, anticipating the reward of delicious ice cream eagerly. Now it was all gone and she was left holding an empty the cone, trying her very best not to cry.

A shadow suddenly blocked her clear view of the dissipating dessert, popping out of nowhere and startled her. She took a step back and used the back of her hand to wipe at her misty eyes. Looking up she spied a curly haired blonde boy staring back at her, a curious look on his face.

“D-do you want my ice cream?” he asked shyly, extending his small arm out to her, at the end of which was a fresh cone piled high with a few scoops of multi flavored ice cream. She looked between him and his outstretched hand before giving him the tiniest of nods and taking his little gift with a small sniffle, “I’m sorry you dropped yours.”

“It’s okay. I think it’s too hot,” she pouted at him, taking a lick of the top flavor - chocolate, her favourite. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the cool, sweet flavor on her tongue before looking back at him. He was watching her intently with wide, bright green eyes, “do you want to share? I don’t have cooties!”

“Yes, please,” he said as he wrung his hands nervously, waiting for her to hand the cone back to him. Even at a young age, he thought she was the prettiest girl he had seen. She would be his friend, he decided, his first friend in the neighborhood he had just moved to.

“Here you go,” she chirped and handed the cone over, licking the remainder off of her lips. He grinned at her before sinking his teeth in the strawberry flavor, causing her to giggle wildly, “doesn’t that hurt your teeth!?”

“No,” he answered but the expression on his face suggested he was lying. He shivered as he tried to rid himself of the brain freeze that was quickly setting in. Both of them started to giggle once he finally shook it off, “okay, maybe that was a little cold.”

“You’re silly!” she told him, and his cheeks flushed a little bit. She realized she didn’t even know his name, she hadn’t even seen him, “I’m Y/N! What’s your name? Are you new here? I know all the kids but I haven’t see you before.”

“My name’s Ben,” he told her and they swapped the cone again, “I just moved here with my mumma and daddy. It’s the big green house at the end of the street.”

“That’s right next to me!” she clapped her little hands as best as she could, trying not drop this bit of ice cream, “we’re neighbors! We can play all the time!”

“You’ll be my friend?” he kicked at the ground nervously, scuffing the front of his pristine converse slightly. He’d never had many friends, being extremely shy around most people, and preferring the company of his pets and toys.

“Of course!” she said as she reached for his hand to drag him along with her. They were in the small neighborhood park, and she was excited to bring him home and introduce him to her family, “come on, Benny! I wanna show you my toys!”

“Benny?” he mused as he took her hand and followed closely behind her. No one had called him that before, it was always Ben or Benjamin, if he was in trouble. But never Benny. It had a nice ring to it, and he knew then and there that she was the only allowed to call him that.

“Can I call you that?” she hadn’t considered that he might not like it. She hoped be did, and was relieved when he nodded at her, “come on then, Benny! Let’s go! I have so much I want to show you!”

That was the first time Y/N L/N had met Ben Jones. But it was far from the last. Instead, over the next sixteen years, they became the best of friends. All from one kind little boy offering his ice cream to the little girl that had dropped hers and was on the verge of tears.

“Benny?” Y/N knocked gently on his bedroom door. He had meant to shut it completely and lock it, keeping out the world, but in his haste to escape and be alone, he had forgotten to do either. He didn’t respond to her soft voice, opting to remain hunched over on his bed, half hidden under the blankets. Letting out a small sigh, she stepped inside and shut the door behind her, listening for the click before locking it.

Slipping off her shoes, she padded over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He flinched slightly, but removed the blankets that were covering his face and looked at her with red rimmed eyes. Y/N touched his face gently, running a thumb along his cheekbone. She hated when he was sad, the look he wore on his face was enough to break her own heart, “what happened, Benny? Is everything okay?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he protested quietly, already feeling his defenses weaken under her touch. Tutting at him, she beckoned for him to scoot over and make a spot for her. She usually took the other side when they shared a bed, but today she couldn’t be bothered to walk around.

Slipping into the bed and under blankets, she laid next to him silently, not pressuring him for answers. He would tell her when he was ready; he was always did. She was his confidant, his best friend, his everything. She rolled over to face him and tugged softly on a rogue curl, twirling it around her finger.

“Love of my life, you’ve hurt me, you’ve broken my heart and now you leave me,” she sang softly at him, trying to coax him out of his shell. He loved when she sang to him, that song in particular, it had been one of their favourites for years, “love of my life, can’t you see? Bring it back, bring it back, don’t take it away from me, because you don’t know, what it means to me.”

He held back a sniffle as she closed her eyes and made herself more comfortable. If he wasn’t ready to talk now, she was willing to stick it out and wait. That’s what best friends were for, right?

“She broke up with me,” he said after a long while of silence, the only sound in the room their synchronized breathing, “right in front of everyone after school. She was so cruel, Y/N. Everyone was laughing at me.”

“Oh no,” Y/N’s eyes snapped open; she had been close to drifting off to the sweet land of sleep, but he had her full attention now, “I’m sorry, Benny. That’s awful of her to do. No one deserves that, especially you. What did she say?”

“She said I was too boring and no fun. Said I was too sensitive and not manly,” he frowned as he replayed the scene in his head. She had been so cruel, almost mocking him when he became visibly upset. Her group of friends had been gathered around her, laughing and making snide remarks about him, “she made fun of me for being a virgin too, just because I said I wasn’t ready to have sex. I just-”

“Shhh,” Y/N reached over and placed a gentle finger in the middle of his lips, effectively quieting him, “you don’t need to explain anything to me. You, Benjamin Jones, deserve so much better than her. She doesn’t know what she’s missing out on. The kindest, sweetest, most gentle boy, the kind that offers his ice cream to a complete stranger. If she can’t see your value, then that is her loss.”

“Are you sure?” he questioned timidly and she fervently nodded her head, “I liked her a lot. She was pretty.”

“If pretty is what you’re looking for then you can find almost any girl,” she laughed lightly. What about you? he wondered to himself, but remained silent, “girls like her a dime a dozen, vapid and pretty but that’s all she’s got going on. Besides, I never liked her anyway, she made my skin crawl.”

“Really? Why didn’t you say anything?” he had had a feeling there was an air of tension between his best friend and former girlfriend, but could never quite place it.

“Because she made you happy,” she struggled lightly, as if it was the obvious thing in the world, “and you’re my best friend. I want you to be happy always. Even if that means me not always like the girl you date, even though I promise to try my best.”

“Did she ever say anything to you?” he asked quietly, brushing a lock of her hair back. He had always been shy, even at sixteen he still often found it hard to overcome, but never with Y/N. Everything always came so easily with her.

“It’s nothing to worry your pretty head about,” she smiled stiffly, wishing the interaction she’d had with his former girlfriend had never happened. She had claimed Ben as hers and only hers and wasn’t thrilled to be sharing his affection and attention with Y/N, but that’s just how things were.

“What did she say, Y/N?” he pressed her and she sighed in defeat.

“She warned me to stay away from you,” she confessed, trying to play it off, “said we shouldn’t be so close and she was the only girl in your life now.”

“Oh,” there was a tone of sadness in his voice as he looked her over. They’ve been such close friends ever since the day they had met, imagining life without her was impossible. She was always going to be there…or so he thought. His piercing gaze bore into hers as stared at each silently, “I wish you’d told me sooner.”

“It doesn’t matter Benny,” she promised him, pulling the blanket higher and snuggling into the pillow that smelled just like him. Stifling a yawn, she reached over and pulled him a little closer, which he had no problem obliging, “what matters is now. You’re my best friend, and that won’t change. Now come on, it’s nap time.”

Y/N closed her eyes, and was soon snoring ever so lightly, as Ben observed her. Her face finally relaxed, her lips parted in a soft pout as her chest rose and fell in a gentle rhythm. He reached over and closed the small gap between, ghosting his fingers over the contours of her face. He momentarily wondered what it would be like to kiss her lips. Probably pretty nice, he thought to himself. But she’d probably never wonder the same about him - he was just her shy best friend and she was the outgoing enigma.

He sighed lightly to himself as he lazily draped an arm over her waist, ready to blame it on sleep if she made a comment about it. Closing his light emerald eyes, he rested against his pillow and let himself drift off as well.

He wasn’t sure what his feelings meant anymore, but he was almost positive that most people didn’t experience those feelings for their best friend. So, what did all those butterflies, the stirring in his stomach, the increased thump of his heart mean then?

“Y/N! Hurry up!” Ben called out from the under the mountains of blankets that were strewn across his living room floor. He heard some unintelligible mumbling coming from the kitchen, and laughed when he realized that her mouth was probably already full, “I’m not pausing the movie! Marathon starts at eight sharp and you’ve got two minutes!”

“Hold your bloody horses,” she called back at him, right before a loud bang was followed by a slew of curses. A soft oof reached his ears.

“Are you okay?” he asked, jumping to his feet and rushing into the kitchen to make sure she was still in one piece. He had to fight back a laugh as he spied her, arms full with snacks, hobbling around on one foot, “what did you do, silly girl?”

“Stubbing my fucking pinkie toe on the edge of the pantry,” she hissed through gritted teeth as he took the food from her arms. She gladly handed them over, examined her foot to make sure the toe wasn’t broken, or otherwise damaged. Besides being red and mildly inflamed, it appeared fine. Ben gently reached over and wiped away the tear that had dripped down her cheek, “I’m blaming you!”

“Why me?” he protested, sticking out his plump lips in a hurt expression. Y/N tried to ignore the fluttering feeling in her stomach as she watched him. Sometimes having a best friend as gorgeous and kind as Ben wasn’t easy. Moments like this reminded her of that.

“Your kitchen, therefore your pantry, therefore your fault,” she smirked, turning back to grab drinks out of the refrigerator. He watched her incredulously, snacks clutched tightly in his hands. He could tell her now - today. It would be, it honestly should have been, so simple. But his mind complicated everything and suddenly he was unsure of anything, “Benny? You’re overthinking again. I’m just kidding about blaming you!”

“Y-yeah, right,” he replied quietly, following her into the pillow and blanket fort they had thrown together. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “I’m going to miss you.”

“Shhh,” she put a finger to his lips, beckoning for him sit next to her, holding the blanket open invitingly, “we’re not going to think about that tonight. That’s a tomorrow problem. Tonight is just like every other movie night. Just me and you. That’s all that matters right now.”

“But it’s not,” he protested lightly, but she ignored him, getting comfy among the pillows and blankets, making sure the large television was at an appropriate viewing angle. She didn’t say anything, but tugged on his arm, and forced him down next to her, “Y/N, I-I think I need to tell you something.”

“It’s okay, bub,” she whispered, turning on the first movie they had selected, trying to ignore the wild beating of her heart. She was sure he probably could hear it, unless his own heart was drowning out the noise, “the time for talk is later.”

Ben didn’t protest this time, instead laying down and letting his gaze at the screen, although he wasn’t paying much attention to the movie. Had she just rejected him? Or was she just as nervous as he was as sixteen years worth of feelings suddenly bubbled to the service? He couldn���t tell, but consumed his mind throughout the whole film. He was barely able to focus on the plot, completely lost about halfway through it, when he heard soft snores coming from next to him.

In his focus on trying to quiet his brain, he hadn’t even noticed that she had scooted closer to him, and was resting on his chest. her legs entwined with his own. A worried expression seemed to be etched on her face as her chest rose and fell evenly. He wished he could capture this moment forever, but it was too late now. He had missed his opportunity and soon he would be gone for months. Without her. It would be the first time that he spent more than a week apart from Y/N.

“Hey,” he put his arm around gently, rubbing her back soothingly. She murmured something quietly, but he wasn’t able to make out an words, “Y/N, love, are you awake?”

“Mhmm,” she said without opening her eyes, head still on his chest, “‘m awake, Benny.”

“I-I have something I need to tell you,” he informed, deciding to do it now. Even if she wasn’t full awake, hopefully she’d remember when she woke up. Hopefully she’d feel the same. He couldn’t wait any longer, he had to get it all out - he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t, “Y/N, I-I’m in love with you.”

“Love you too, Benny,” she snuggled up tighter to his warm body. She had always called him her personal heater, his body was always warm, which was a perfect contrast to her always feeling cold. He swallowed the large lump in his throat as he realized she wasn’t quite understanding his connotations.

“No, you don’t get it,” he lowered his head a little bit so he was almost speaking into her ear, “I’m in love with you. And not just as my best friend.”

It was no use though, she was gone for the evening, lost to the land of the sleeping. She made no more sounds sans for the snores that come steadily. Ben removed frozen, letting her us him as a pillow, unsure of what to do next. Should he tell her again tomorrow? Would she remember on her own? Or was it all a colossal waste of time?

Shifting his eyes back to the screen, he aimlessly watched the last bit of the film, most of which was lost on him. When it was over, he crawled out from under as gently as he could, trying his best not to wake her. He made quick work of cleaning up and switching the lights and television off before picking her up gingerly and carrying her to his bedroom.

He placed her delicately on her preferred side of the bed before climbing into the other side, and laying next to her. Laying on his back, his eyes focused on the ceiling, all sorts of scenarios drifting through his mind. Parts of him where regretting taking that film role. Parts of him knew it was a mistake, but he’d never admit out loud. And Y/N would never let him give up on his dream, even if that meant him leaving for months on end. He was torn between what to do, but after several aimless hours, his eyes finally closed and he was able to slip into a dreamless slumber.

“I can’t believe this is it,” Y/N stared at Ben with sad eyes, trying her very best to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over. The day he was leaving her had finally arrived, and the previous evening hadn’t made anything easier.

She swore that he had professed his love for her but decided not to comment on it. She figured it was probably something her mind had conjured up and made a big deal out of as she was falling asleep. Besides that, Ben was her best friend, her good old shy Benny boy. It was doubtful he would ever love someone like her.

“I-I can still say no,” he volunteered weakly, but she just shook her head, not taking no for an answer. His lips pulled into a small half smile as he focused his attention on the coffee in front of them. All around them, people were bustling and getting their morning started in the small café, while the two of were having a goodbye breakfast. It felt odd and wrong, but he knew if he wanted to further his career, this was what he needed to do.

“You’re not staying behind for me,” she said firmly with a small smile, but she wished he would. But she’d never admit, she’d rather have gone to her grave before doing that, “it’s only four months. And then we’ll go from there. Four months, 123 days from today.”

“You counted?” he asked, a little bit of light reaching his eyes finally. She bobbed her head up and down in confirmation, almost embarrassed that she had so willing confessed that to him. He reached across the table and took her hand in his much larger one, giving it a gentle squeeze, “123 days until the best homecoming ever.”

“I’m going to miss you so much,” she replied shakily, dabbing her eyes with the back of her sweater sleeve…well Ben’s sweater sleeve. She was currently sporting his clothing rather than her own, “promise me you won’t forget about me? Since you’re going to be famous and all that.”

“I could never forget about you,” he felt almost insulted that she would even dare to think he could forget about her. She was his best friend and he adored everything single thing about her, “I haven’t since the day we met when you had dropped your ice cream and almost cried about it.”

“I had been excited for it all week!” she laughed, remembering how he’d calmly, yet nervously, approached her and offered her his dessert, “but luckily my favourite human being came to the rescue. Who would have thought that after all these years we’d still be here – together.”

“That’s never going to change,” he leaned in closer to her, “you really think you’re going to get rid of me so easily, Y/N L/N?”

“I sure hope not,” she confessed, relishing in how soft his hand was on top of hers. Gnawing on her bottom lip, she wished she could just get it out and let him that she was in love with him, but she couldn’t. The words were stuck in her throat, in the lump that refused to leave, “promise me you’ll text? And call? And faceime?”

“I promise that and more,” he was confident in his words at the time. If only either of them knew exactly what the future held, then perhaps this conversation would have gone very differently, “I’ll fly you out to visit me as soon as possible, hopefully next month, okay? That way it won’t be too long for us to be apart.”

“Okay,” she sniffed lightly, trying her best to keep herself composed. Daring a glance at her watch, she saw that it was just about time for him to leave so he could get to the airport on time, “God, I didn’t think it would be this hard. I mean I did, but still.”

“I know,” he agreed, feeling the pricking sensation at the back of his eyes as he stood up to get ready to leave. She followed suit and studied him one last time, trying to remember every detail of him - his short blonde curls, the kind light sage eyes, the pink lips, everything, “I don’t want to go.”

“Yes, you do, silly,” she said as a single tear rolled down her splotchy cheek, “this is your dream. You worked so hard for it.”

“I know, but it’s hard right now,” he wiped away the tear, staring at her silently for a few moments, torn between what to say next. He wasn’t given much of a choice to decide as she threw her arms around his muscular body, clutching onto him for dear life. She buried her head in the crook of his neck, a few tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt.

He returned the sentiment, closing his eyes and holding her back, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo one last time. Ben wanted to be sure he was familiarized with every detail of her, that way during the lonely nights he’d be able to picture her clearly.

They held each other in silence for what seemed like a small eternity before the ringing of Ben’s phone interrupted them. Reluctantly pulling apart, he grabbed it with a heavy sigh, not able to get a word in before a voice came through from the other line.

“Yes, alright,” was all Ben said before ending the call and slipping the phone into his back pocket, “I guess I’d be better be going then. Duty calls.”

“Quite literally it would seem,” she joked and giving him the lightest of nudges as she put a hand on his chest, “well, Benny, this is goodbye-”

“It’s not a goodbye,” he interrupted, a slow smile spreading on her face. He was always weird about saying goodbye, be tried to avoid it as much as he could feeling like it was too definitive, too final of a statement, “it’s a see you later…a see you soon.”

“See you soon, Ben,” she leaned up slightly and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. She felt a jolt of electricity shook through her at the simple touch and tried to ignore it and prevent a crimson blush from rising in her cheeks, “let me know when you get there. Call me!”

“It’s going to be super late here,” he chuckled, subconsciously touching his cheek in the same spot her lips had been. Little did he know that she had felt the exact same feelings he did.

“I don’t care,” she insisted, “I want to make you’re safe and sound. Okay?”

“Okay,” he tried his best to muster up a smile as they headed towards the exit. It was now or never, he deduced, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Ben,” she whispered, wishing she was confident enough to tell him exactly how much. But no wave of courage, no sudden brashness overcame her, so she just waited awkwardly as he seemed to linger.

“I’ll call you soon, promise,” he grabbed his bag and started to flag down a cab, “remember - you’re my best friend. Nothing is ever going to change. 123 days, love, that’s all.”

“123 days,” she repeated, giving him a small, desolate wave as he climbed into the cab. She remained there, watching the brightly colored cab into it was long gone in the distance before being able to move.

123 days wasn’t too much. It seemed like a long time, but it would go by before she knew it - she was sure of it. Maybe, if things were right, she’d even profess her love to him as soon as they were reunited. A cliche movie moment, but that was what she wanted. Her own moment.

But 123 turned into 1,827 days.

1,827 days without seeing Ben’s face or hearing his voice in her ear, or having his body close to hers.

Until now.

“Y/N?” Ben asked as she looked at him, gobsmacked and unsure of how to respond. He had the nerve to waltz back into her life like nothing had happened after all these years. This was so unlike the shy little boy she had grown up with. This was a whole new Ben. He tried to touch her wrist, but she took a step further back, “d-did you hear me?”

“You want me…to be your girlfriend?” she managed to stammer out, unsure if this was all a cruel joke or some sort of trick.

“Please, love, I need you,” his voice was low and soft - the same tone he used throughout the years as he sung her to sleep, the same soft that was reserved almost exclusively for her, “what do you say?”

“Fuck you, Ben Jones,” she spat out before turning on her heel and rushing out of the cafe, tears flooding down her cheeks and clouding her vision.

How could he do this? How could he just break her heart all over again? It was hard enough when months turned into years but this was rock bottom.

That was why she wondered why she felt so conflicted. Because deep down, in her heart of hearts, she knew that she still loved him. She’d never stopped loving Ben Jones.

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[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Out of Time (6/?)

IT’S BEEN 84 YEARS! Well, ok, no, it’s been about four months. Anyway, if anyone’s still reading this, enjoy!

Summary:  Belle is the one to be sucked into Zelena’s time portal with Emma, and they find themselves in a very different time to the one they had anticipated, arriving to see the confrontation between Hook and a pre-Dark One Rumpelstiltskin. They manage to return to the future, but with some unintentional stowaways. With Rumpelstiltskin removed from his own timeline, the universe throws a fit, and it’s a race against time to set things straight.

Rated: T for now, but it may go up in later chapters.

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[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [AO3]

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Out of Time

Six

For several seconds, no-one moved or spoke. Rumpel and Bae were looking around their new surroundings with nervous bewilderment, and Emma and Belle were looking at each other with increasing panic. When Belle had feared a changed future as a result of what they had done in the past, she had never dreamed that they would have changed the past so thoroughly as to remove two people from it, and the worst thing was that they’d done so entirely accidentally. 

“Is it bad that I’m still more concerned about where the barn’s gone?” Emma asked faintly. “I can really only deal with one bombshell at a time right now.”

Belle nodded. “No, I agree. You worry about the barn. I’ll take care of the unintentional stowaways.” Again, she looked around at the lack of building around them. “I dread to think what else may have changed. If we’ve removed Rumpel and Bae from their own timeline then any number of things could have gone wrong, especially because we were so far back in the past, before they had any interaction with any of the people here in the present.”

“We’re still here, though,” Emma pointed out. “So that must account for something. We haven’t randomly poofed out of existence, so whatever happened in the history we just altered, it can’t have been too bad.”

Belle shuddered at the thought of poofing out of existence and decided that she really didn’t want to think about all the unintended consequences of their travel just yet. Instead, she went over to Rumpel and Bae. Bae was clinging to his father in a limpet grip, face buried in his legs, and they were both shaking from their ordeal. 

“Hey, it’s ok,” Belle said gently, touching Rumpel’s arm. “It’s all right now, it’s all over.”

Rumpel looked around, and Belle could see the blind panic in his face at finding himself in completely unfamiliar surroundings. 

“Where are we?” he asked, choked. “This isn’t the Frontlands.”

“No. We’re in the future. Well, the present for me and Emma. This is where we came from when we came through the portal to your time and place. It’s brought us back to where we started from.”

“We’re not in the Enchanted Forest anymore?”

Rumpel was almost hyperventilating in his fear, and Belle cupped his face. 

“Breathe,” she said. “Just breathe. You’re safe here, I swear. You and Bae are both going to be safe with me. I really am so sorry about this.” She knew that the platitudes couldn’t exactly make up for being unceremoniously ripped out of one’s simple life and dumped in an entirely different time and place, but it was the only thing that she could think of to say. “We’ll get everything sorted out; I promise.”

She had no idea how they’d do it, but she had hope. There were enough magic users in the town that they ought to be able to cobble something together. At least, she hoped there were enough magic users in the town. She hoped that there was still a town, full stop. 

With a horrible sinking feeling, she wondered if her Rumpel would be here now that she’d brought him from the past. There was absolutely no reason why he should be here, but she could try and hope that perhaps they hadn’t screwed things up quite as royally as they seemed to have done.

She held Rumpel’s wide brown eyes steadily, determined not to show any fear of her own, no matter how much she might have been feeling it inside, and gradually, his breathing evened out. He took her hands where they still rested on his cheeks, but he made no attempt to remove them. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

Belle smiled. “It’s the least I can do. I know that you can be brave about this, Rumpel. I already know how brave you can be. I know you can get through this too.”

He gave the briefest of weak smiles, and let go of her hands as Bae prised himself away from his legs and finally looked around at the place they’d landed in. 

“Emma! Emma!”

It was David’s voice, and Belle didn’t think that she’d ever been so glad to hear it. A moment later, she saw him cresting the hill, Regina hot on his heels. She didn’t think that she’d ever be glad to see Regina, but right now, anyone with any understanding of magic was going to be a blessing and seeing that people who’d been around before their time jump were still around after it was very comforting. 

“Emma, what happened?” David asked, at the same time as Emma ran over to him with an exclamation of “Dad! You’re still here! What’s happening?” and Regina stopped in her tracks staring bug-eyed at Rumpel and Bae. Belle stepped between them neatly; they were already shaken up enough as it was without suffering the indignity of being turned into a zoo attraction. 

“We saw the portal open up,” David explained, “and I was on my way to come and investigate when everything started to, well… You can see for yourself.”

The group of them moved away from the barn site and towards the edge of the hill, looking down over the town. It was still there, just about. There was a haze of magic over it, pulsing in misty multicolour, and looking up, Belle could see it pulsing above their heads as well if she squinted. Half of the buildings in the town had vanished at random: Granny’s diner had gone, but the inn was still there. Belle was incredibly relieved to see that the pawn shop was still standing, although whether it had an occupant was another matter. Something in the back of her mind wondered what would happen if Rumpel’s past version and present version of himself should meet. Would that cause even more problems? She shook her head; she had to establish whether her Rumpel was even around before worrying about introducing him to himself from the past. 

There was a pulse of magic and the diner reappeared at the same time as the Sheriff’s station vanished, and behind them, the barn, complete with blown-out roof from the portal, crashed back into existence. 

“It’s been doing this for the last hour,” David explained. “It’s not just the buildings that keep popping in and out of existence. It’s the people, too.”

“Is Mom ok?” Emma asked quickly. 

David nodded. “She was when I left her. We’ve lost Ruby and three of the dwarfs.”

“This is all our fault.” Emma sighed. “It wasn’t even on purpose, and we’ve managed to do… I don’t even know what we’ve managed to do.”

“It’s a temporal anomaly,” Regina said, although she didn’t appear to be paying any attention to the conversation at all, still mesmerised by Rumpel and Bae. “Whatever you changed in the past… Which I think I can guess at considering the two new additions to the town’s population… It’s changed something so fundamental that time itself can’t work out what the future ought to be like.” She gestured for Belle to follow her out of Rumpel and Bae’s earshot. 

“You pulled Rumpelstiltskin out of his time stream before he became the Dark One?” she hissed. 

“It wasn’t exactly intentional! We had no idea where the portal was going to take us back to, and we didn’t know that it was going to have quite such a wide radius when it scooped us back up to bring us home!”

Regina sighed. “Well, that certainly explains why the universe is throwing a fit at the moment and why Storybrooke can’t seem to decide whether it exists or not. Rumpelstiltskin is so fundamental to all of our stories; the Dark One has influenced so much during his time that he’s probably touched all of our lives, and he’s been around for so long that it’s uncertain whether any of us would even be here without him.”

“So why are we all still here?” Belle asked. “I mean, if it weren’t for Rumpel’s intervention in the second ogre wars in the Marchlands, I very much doubt that I’d be around today. I’d have been slaughtered like the people of Avonlea.”

“That’s where it gets complicated.” Regina looked around at the gathered people on the hillside and addressed the group as a whole. “I think that we ought to get somewhere less exposed. Or at least somewhere with chairs, even if they might disappear from under us at any moment. Mary Margaret will be getting worried that we’ve poofed into nothingness.”

“Am I going to poof into nothingness, Papa?” Bae asked fearfully. Rumpel just looked to Belle for guidance, but she had none to give. 

“No,” Regina said. For all her misdeeds, she was generally pretty good with little boys. “You and your Papa are about the only people who aren’t going to poof into nothingness. I’ll explain later,” she added on seeing Belle’s incredulous expression.

The group made their way down to where the cars were parked; amazingly Emma’s bug was still there. Rumpel and Bae were rather alarmed by the sight, and Belle remembered what life had been like for her when she had first got out of the asylum and regained her memories of the Enchanted Forest, entering into a world that she had absolutely no knowledge of. 

“It’s a horseless carriage,” she explained. “It moves by itself. Don’t worry, it’s very safe.”

Having landed in an unknown world in the middle of what was obviously a catastrophe for the future travellers, Rumpel and Bae just went along with everything that they were being herded towards, no matter how scared they might have been. 

“I trust you,” Rumpel said to her as she got Bae’s seatbelt fastened in the back of the bug. “I know that you wouldn’t do anything that would put Bae or me in danger. So, although this is a frightening new future world that you’ve brought us to, I know that if you’re here, we’ll be all right.”

Belle took his hand. “I promise that I will keep you safe,” she said. “For as long as I’m here, I won’t let anything happen to you or Bae. We will get this sorted out. David’s a good man, he’s Emma’s father, and he was a great king back in the Enchanted Forest before we came to this land. Regina’s an incredibly powerful magician; she should be able to help us.”

Rumpel thankfully didn’t ask how come David and Emma looked the same age. Presumably he’d seen enough magical shenanigans already today that he wasn’t going to question anything anymore. 

The journey back into what remained of the town was a tense, silent one. Belle was desperate to hear what Regina had to say and all of the further explanations; although she was pleased to know that Rumpel and Bae were safe from vanishing, there were myriad other questions on her mind that were becoming more pressing. 

Mary Margaret was waiting for them on the steps of City Hall, her still-unnamed son in her arms.

“So far it’s the only building that hasn’t vanished at least once,” she said. “Of course, that probably means it’ll be the next to go, but I thought I’d take my chances…” 

Her voice tailed off on seeing Rumpel and Bae. 

“Don’t even ask,” Emma muttered. “It was an accident, ok?”

Regina ushered them all into the hall and unlocked the main meeting room, gesturing for them all to enter. Belle hung back with Rumpel and Bae. 

“I’m really not sure that it’s a good idea for you to be part of this,” she said to them. “Most of it will go over your heads anyway, but I’m already concerned by how much of the future you’re absorbing for if we ever do manage to return you to your own time.” She really didn’t want Rumpel to hear anything about the Dark One, the fact that the Dark One was, or at least would be, him, or the fact that his son was dead. 

Rumpel nodded and gave a grimace, rubbing his forehead. 

“Are you all right?” Belle asked. 

“Just a headache. I think it must be down to going through the portal.”

She really didn’t want to leave him and Bae alone in this strange new land; she’d promised that she would protect them, after all. In the end, she ushered them into the meeting room and settled them on chairs in one corner. Regina had sourced some toys from somewhere, either out of nowhere or retrieving some of Henry’s old ones, and soon Bae was happy enough playing on the floor whilst Rumpel supervised. Belle took her seat at the table. 

“Because you two went through the portal, and because this Rumpel and Bae have come through with you, you’ve become fixed points in time,” Regina explained. “That means that of all us here in the town, you four are the only ones who won’t vanish. You’ll always be here, because coming through the portal and causing all of the ripples in time means that no matter what, you always have to exist.”

Emma and Belle looked at each other. Being the only fully real people in the town was a big responsibility. 

“Wait,” Emma said. “Surely if I have to exist, then David and Mary Margaret have to exist too in order for me to even be here.”

Regina shook her head. “No, it doesn’t work like that. You and Belle have been taken out of time; in effect you exist in a different dimension to the rest of us now.”

“I’m not even going to try and understand that, I’m just going to go along with it. Is there anything that we can do to put this right and get everyone back on the same plane of existence?”

Regina shrugged. “We need to correct the timeline,” she said. “If we had the ability to recreate Zelena’s portal, then it would be easy, but we don’t. The entire point of the portal was that it broke the laws of magic. It shouldn’t have been possible in the first place.” She paused. “Well, of course, there is one person who’d know how to go about it.” 

Everyone in the room looked over at Rumpel, and Belle’s heart leapt to her mouth. 

“Is he… My present Rumpel… Gold... Is he still here? He’s the one person I would certainly expect to have gone.”

Mary Margaret nodded. “Yes. Gold’s still in the pawnshop, as far as I know.”

Belle breathed a sigh of relief, but as she looked over at Rumpel and Bae again, she didn’t know quite how relieved she ought to be. Things were about to get an awful lot more complicated…