#(i have to sleep now before my sister tries to rope me into fixing her laptop and i can't do it i can't i have zero patience rn)

[hailsatanacab]

chapter four!! birthday cake all round 🎂🍰🍰🍰🥳🎉🎈🎊

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Graveyard Siblings (3)

Some for revenge and some sibling bonding.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)(Part 2)

-------

Adrien was next to be visited. Plagg woke him up from his sleep.

-------

“Kit, wake up. I want camembert.”

“Plagg, silence. You are not getting any cheese if you do that.”

“Sorry, Adrien but you are not my ‘master’ anymore.”

“Plagg? Why are you here? Where’s the ring?”

“The ring is as far away as possible and kept safely away. I am here because someone wants to talk to you.”

“Who?”

A cloaked, hooded figure stepped out of the shadows to his room.

“Kitty. My Chaton. Did you miss me?” A sweet, familiar but yet so terrifying voice came from the figure.

She pulled down the hood to reveal Ladybug with a wicked-looking black mask with white lenses.

“What am I talking about? You do miss me. Your Bugaboo. Too bad I don’t feel the same, Adrien.”

Lightning flashed and it started to rain. The mask was gone, revealing his dead classmate, Marinette with chilling red eyes. The pigtails grew longer and curved upwards, giving the illusion of her having horns. Twin blades flashed and she leaped towards him. (Damian gave them to her with some lessons in exchange for spending time with, babysitting, the kwamis.)

Adrien scrambled away from the bed in the nick of time. A sword impaling the spot where he just was.

“Plagg, help. Where is the ring? I need to transform.”

“Sorry, kitten. I am not telling you. Even if you did have the ring, it’s not going to be much help.”

“Kitty, stay still. Then, we can be together. Just like you wanted.”

Adrien continued to dodge.

“What do you mean?” He all but screamed at Plagg.

“Pigtails, here, is a vengeful spirit. She’s not going to stop until she is satisfied. How about asking her what she wants?”

“Ladybug, what do you want?”

“What I wanted was a partner I could rely on, someone I can trust with my life, someone who wouldn’t stab me in the back for his own selfish gain. I wanted a friend who would have my back and not tell me to keep quiet at the price of my mental health and my relationships with people I care about. WAS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!”

She managed to get a cut on his left cheek.

Soon, he was on the ground, bleeding out on the round.

“Tell Hawkmoth that he better watch out. Because-” lightning struck and Plagg and Ladybug had disappeared, “his downfall is coming.” Her voice echoed through his room.

Adrien laid bleeding until Natalie opened the door after hearing a crash from the room and came to check on him. As she called an ambulance for Adrien, she wondered if it wasn’t too late to ask for redemption and be spared from Ladybug’s wrath for her part in her murder.

Adrien had the word ‘TRAITOR’ carved into his back. Forever reminding him of his crimes.

--------

He wasn’t in school for a week after the incident. They all were told that Adrien had an accident while fencing.

Gabriel was a little panicking now.

He hired an exorcist, (John Constantine got a hefty amount and did a few flashy magic tricks to appease Gabriel but he didn’t lift the curse Maria put on the place. She is not someone to be on the bad side of and he thinks that he can’t lift it even if he wanted to.)

Emilie gets a little sus at Gabriel when he brought this strange man with a British accent into their home after their son got attacked in his own room with security tighter than Fort Knox.

She doesn’t buy that ‘accident’ bullshit that her husband, son and even Natalie tries to sell her. She thinks it is connected to what happened while she was in a coma.

-----

Adrien has a curse too.

(Credit to @raeuberprinzessin for giving me an idea)

He couldn’t act like the ‘Perfect Adrien’ in public anymore. Acting more like Chat Noir at first then, later a spoiled brat. His friends thought that he was finally rebelling against his father and encouraged it a lot.

Adrien started criticizing other people, strangers at first then to the people working on the photoshoots to his fans to his other school mates, people in his class and his friends. (The curse planted ideas into his head about what he should say and he said them all without thinking about the effect it has on other people)

People started avoiding him not liking his attitude and his comments about how they should behave and change something about them because he doesn’t like it that way and guilt-tripping them when he doesn’t get his way. Even Nino started to distance himself after he saw how Adrien talked to a fan.

The public thought it was a phase but as he got progressively worse, people started despising him. Adrien doesn’t realize this of course so far, happy that his father let him get away with ‘ruining the Agreste image.’ (Gabriel was worried about a potential vengeful ghost and making sure his wife didn't know about his stint as a supervillain. There was also the fact that the Afterlife made more sales than him again and managed to get on the cover of Vogue when he should have, dammit.) He was finally able to say what he wanted to without repercussions. Until he realized when Nino and everyone else cancelled for a hangout for the third time that week that he was slowly losing his friends.

He panics and tries to fix the situation. He didn’t want to be alone again.

He talks to Nino about it and to his horror, he couldn’t stop himself from saying many things that were a little hurtful. (Second part. The moment he realizes he is going to be alone. He is going to find out that yes, lies can hurt people. He is going to see it happen firsthand.)

Nino moved seats and told Adrien that their friendship was on hold until he apologized.

Soon, nearly every time his mouth opened, lies and insults about his friends or their embarrassing secrets came spilling out. Everyone hated him now and Mme. Bustier tried to give him a reprimand about his behaviour, which when he tried to defend himself, he found himself unable to speak.

He managed to explain to his father what caused his unpopularity by writing what happened to him. Unfortunately due to his poor behaviour before the second part of the curse was activated, his fan base was dwindling and people didn’t like him anymore so there was a hit on the Gabriel brand.

He no longer has to do modeling, clearing his schedule. But no one would spend time with him.

The best solution he could do with his predicament was to keep quiet and endure the loneliness and the glares of his classmates at school. Adrien was relegated to the back and nearly everyone avoided him. He was now a social pariah.

Even Lila avoided him because of her own curse which made Adrien turn into one of her previous victims. (She also didn’t ponder why Marinette rarely appears compared to the others.)

If Adrien felt a tiny bit remorseful or guilty for making Marinette keep quiet or betraying Ladybug, he can gain a little control over what he says.

The curse can be broken if he apologizes to Maria herself or to her grave.

------

The first few months, while Marinette adapted to living with the Waynes, Jason stayed over at Wayne Manor because having Maria living with him at his apartment wasn’t a good idea and he had no clue how to take care of a teenage girl.

On paper she is adopted by Bruce because Jason can’t. (Some CPS reasons.)

Making Jason a little more salty towards Bruce. “I found her first. I called dibs.”

Brought Maria to meet the other Outlaws and they adopted her too. “Hey, guys. She’s my sister first.”

Jason was the one to teach her how to shoot a gun because he was ‘the most capable’ of teaching her.

The first few months were a little tense with Marinette not fully trusting them and the same with the rest of the Batfam.

Jason warmed her up a bit to him by telling a little of why he took her here.

He was also the one to book them flight to Paris with Bruce’s credit card so she can tell her friends that she wasn’t dead in person.

They bonded more after stopping some nefarious plot in Paris while they were there. Let’s say Gentleman Ghost and something involving the catacombs in Paris. (I watched some Batman: Brave and the Bold for childhood nostalgia.)

Kwamis were animal-shaped and they were interesting creatures to be around. And very very curious.

There was a stressful day for Maria when all the Kwamis decided to play hide and seek. Damian somehow got roped into helping her as the only available person in the Manor and he will deny that he enjoyed it.

Damian is the little brother she always wanted and she is more tolerable compared to his brothers. There is also the fact that she trusts him with the kwamis and deep down, he feels super-honoured. (I just love older sister!Mari)

Tim and her being insomniac/coffee buddies. There has been many many interventions to stop this.

I get that Marinette is this selfless person and loves making people happy but she has siblings now and them eating the stuff she made for herself to enjoy, should get on her nerves after a while.

She makes a box with booby-traps in which she puts in her cookies and food.

There are many different layers of traps because this is the Batfam and each of them is non-lethal and more ridiculous.

Okay, I once read a fic about Marinette making a bear-trap style box to hide the Miracle Box so this box is also like that but kept for food. (Traps and Sneaks by quicksilversquared)

Someone (I vote a hungry Dick or Jason, maybe a suspicious Bruce) made a mistake of putting their hand into the box and the first trap activated.

Screams filled the house.

Everyone came down including Marinette.

Bruce asked, “Who did this?”

“It was me.”

“Why?”

“They kept eating the cookies.”

“There are other ways to stop them from doing that you know like a ‘Do Not Touch’ sign not a death trap box.”

“They are non-lethal.”

Bruce locked it away but Tim later stole it to tweak it and store his coffee. ------ (Part 4)

[wpdarlingpan]

Hello! I recently follow you and read your writing of DC. I love it, your writing are really good! For a request, i have this idea...

Platonic yandere Damian wayne with twin sister reader. Maybe, when they were kids, he used to be hated her because she was excelent in everything and have a little care and love from Talia. But she really care for his brother and then Ra al-ghul put them to fight among themselves on a cliff to see who was going to be the future leader and in a bad move, they ended up hanging up in the cliff. Then his sister, not wanting to see his brother die, brings him back to the surface and she ends up falling. Damian didn't know how to react and only receive a slap from his mother .

How about, after Damian goes to live with Bruce and being the new Robin, in one of the fights with Slade and his partner, this partner decides to let himself be trapped so that Slade can escape. In the Batcave, they take off the mask to discover that it is their sister, but someone very different, with another personality, cold, somewhat insane, hostile and very intelligent like that, because she was submerged in the Lazarus pit by Slade, who consider as a parent. Maybe Damian will try to reason with her and apologize for what he did to her. She tells him that it is too late and a smoke bomb explodes to reveal that Slade came for his daughter. She, determined, goes with him, but Damian tries to stop her, but is defeated and tells him that he should never have saved him, to see how Damian tears up and before leaving, he laughs and says "I didn't know that demons cry "

it could be possible? Thanks!!

Ukht: Sister in Arabic

Title: Not Again

Talia was surprised when she gave birth to twins. The boy a few minutes sooner than the girl. She was glad as well as they had two lethal weapons instead of one.

Two children with the blood of Talia Al Ghul and The Batman.

There was a boy she named Damian and she name the girl Y/N. She cared for them a short time after they were born then they were cared for mostly by maids.

As they grew older Damian began to despise his younger sister. She was perfect at everything and he was always second best. He believed she got all the love of their mother and grandfather and left him with none.

They were 10 when they were dropped at the top of the tallest mountain on their land and told to fight to determine the next Leader of the League Of Assassins. They were equals. They fought for hours as they each met each attack with one of equal force same with defense. They were bloody and bruised and Y/N couldn’t bare to hurt her brother anymore. But we she was about to give, she didn’t notice how close to the edge they were. The stood facing each other with their feet barely not over the edge but as Damian attack he knocked himself over the edge because he lost balance as he grew angry and let his emotions over ride his training. But as he fell he grabbed onto his sisters leg and she was pulled down with him. The didn’t fall far as they ended hanging onto a small ledge not to far from the top of the mountain.

Y/N knew what she had to do, but did she have the strength to do it is what she was questioning to herself.

She grabbed the rope she had attached to her belt and used one hand to toss it up and luckily for her it landed around a tall rock while the other end flew back down. The two ends of the rope were next to her and she leaned over and attached the rope to Damians belt as he struggled to hold on. He looked over once he felt the weight on his belt and he looked back at her questioningly.

“I love you Damian.” She said as she grabbed onto one end of the rope, pulling Damian up to the top as she used as much of the weight she could to work as a pulley system. She didn’t want him to bed up falling back down so as soon as she saw he was safely to the top, or as safe as you could be on the top of the mountain. She let go.

Damian screamed as he saw his sister fall beneath the clouds to her death, and he couldn’t do anything. He hated her all of his life for reasons she could not control and he didn’t realize that he never triplet hated her until he realized he never had been without her. She patched him up after fights in the middle of the night so he couldn’t protest, gave his pieces of food, tried to show him love but he wouldn’t accept it, not from her. 

He regretted it now.

A assassin flew a helicopter up to the mountain with Talia in the back going to collect Damian. Once she arrived and Damian had fought the pain and walked onto the helicopter, Talia slapped him sending him to the floor with a red hand print on his cheek. He wouldn’t cry, never.

They arrived back at the compound and Talia led him to Ra’s. Of course they talked about everything he did wrong then made him practice for 5 hours until it was perfect. After they sent him away to sleep he had nightmares of his sisters death, and how he hated her all those years.

The next day he was sent to live with his father after the league was attacked and Ra’s was killed. His mother handed him off and later on he decided to stay with his father even after he was to be brought back to the league. It had been a few months since then and Batman and Robin were in the middle of a fight with Slade otherwise known as deathstroke. He was a powerful force to be reckoned with. But even worse now, as he had a sidekick.

A fully masked figure wearing fighting gear and knifes strapped to their thigh, not to mention the very sharp Katana they were wielding, it was a difficult task for them both. But Batman dodged a stroke from the blade and the blade hit a gas pipe, as it was about to explode Slade ran off and Batman was about to go follow before she tackled him to the ground. They fought for a good couple seconds before Robin joined the fight and she was knocked out.

Batman and Robin swung out of the warehouse with Batman holding the masked figure as the pipe exploded leaving behind a burning building.

They put her in handcuffs and put her in the back of the batmobile as they drove home.

“Who do you think she is Batman?”

“I’m not sure.”

They drove home in silence, when did Slade get a partner?

Once in the bat cave they tied her to a chair before Alfred fixed up their cuts. The figure began to slowly wake up and she struggled in the chair before settling while staring at the duo.

“Why were you with Slade? A partner? Sidekick? Apprentice?” She doesn’t respond and continued to glare. The Bat stared right back and couldn’t help but think she was very short, just a inch or two below Damian. Her eyes seemed young as well but didn’t hold any innocence.

“You heard him, who are you?!” Damian demanded by Robin put a hand on his shoulder

They still didn’t respond. But, an idea came to mind. If she gave away her identity it would distract them enough for her to initiate a plan.

“Take off my mask Damian and see.” She spoke ominously while they both looked in shock that she knew his identity. He got over it and quickly ripped off her mask and he was staring into eyes alike to his own.

“Y-Y/N?”

“Miss me? I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Who is she Damian?”

“He never told you about me?” She asked with a fake point then proceeded to smirk.

“Damian?” Batman questioned further but all domain could do was stare.

“I’m his twin sister.” If there was a time the bat had showed that he was shocked it would have been when he found out about Damian, but this one rivaled it.

“W-What?”

He looked over to Damian but Damian turned away.

“Yep, his little sister only by a few minutes.”

Damian and Bruce took off the masks looked at her. Bruce saw the resemblances, between Damian and her, between her and himself.

Damian knelt in front of her and stared into her eyes.

“Forgive me ukht, please forgive me.” Tears gathered in his eyes surprising y/n. Damian crying? That’s not possible.

“Forgive you for what Damian?” Bruce questioned staring at his children.

Y/N had her lips pursed so Damian responded.

“Our mother and grandfather put us against each other in a mountain… it was a fight to the death to determine who would be the heir to the league. We fought for hours before I let me emotions lead and I fell. I grabbed onto y/n and she came down with me. We felt onto a ledge with barely enough room for us to hold on.” Bruce’s eyes are wide and slightly teary. “She grabbed her rope and made a pulley system. I was slipping, she tied it to my belt and jumped, telling me she loved me. Pulling me to the top as she Plummeted down. She fell, or rather let go so I could live.”

“And yet here we are.” She spoke snarky glaring at Damian.

“How are you here then?” Bruce questioned feeling as if he knew the answer. Jason was a standing example.

“You already know Bruce. The Lazarus Pit. Just like how it brought back Robin #2.” She smirked as he glared slightly. Damian glared back at their father as he needed to calm down.

“But did you know something Batman?” 

“What is it Y/N?”

“We always have a back up plan.”

With that the wall bursted open and Y/N shook of the robes she had been working away with a small knife. She held up a small tracker she had on her and smirked at their surprise faces. The duo threw on their masks even though their identity’s were already known.

Slade walked in with swords at the ready and he threw one to Y/N.

“Nice to see you.” Slade smirked at her.

“To you as well.”

“Ready to go?” He questioned her ignoring the bat and the bird.

“Ready when you are.” They nodded slightly and

Slade attacked Batman while she got Damian. With the help of a smoke Bomb and their disorientation from the information that she was alive, they were fairly easy to take down. They knocked the duo down to the floor and tied their legs together, just to give them enough time to escape.

“You can’t go! Not again.” Damian yelled with tears streaming down his face. He couldn’t lose her, not again.

“Wow look at that Slade.”

“What is it Y/N?” He played along as they turns towards the whole in the wall.

“I didn’t know Demons could cry. You learn something new everyday.”

Slade tossed another smoke Bomb into the cave as the last dispersed, distracting Damian and Bruce since they had almost gotten out of the rope, and got far away from the duo.

Damian stared at the hole in the wall in a mix of anger and sadness. Bruce in shock still.

Damian sobbed and fell to the floor in tears.

“Not again.”

~*~

Hopefully you liked it! Sorry it wasn’t too Yandere, I wasn’t sure how to make him a Yandere with this. But I how it was still good. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day! ♡

[badgirlcovenrep]

atlas

Alex Chen × Steph Gingrich fluffy comfort one-shot

(I was talking to a friend about the game and we were discussing how Alex is probably still carrying a lot of trauma. And even after everything that happened at the mines we still don't see her really grieve for the whole situation and herself. So- I had to write it, you know?)

Enjoy!

TW: mentions of suicide, death and mental health issues.

It's two months into their relationship now, and they are somewhere in a Californian town, living in a tiny apartment close to the beach. They play together in small venues and underground clubs. Alex bartends and Steph referees for DND campaigns at a nerd bar they found by chance on their first week there.

They're happy. As happy as Alex remembers being since she was- well, maybe nine.

Every day, it's a little like waking up into a dream. Living in an apartment with her first girlfriend, listening to music as they cooked dinner together. Getting to kiss her just because Alex felt like it. Because her heart went a little loopy inside her chest when she smiled. Because she knew Steph would hold on to her waist and make her feel like she was full of electricity.

The 'falling in love' business felt overrated before Steph.

But Being in the middle of it now, Alex doesn't think there's anything better.

Although a part of her still felt quite numb - she guesses it's not something that will go away that easily - and day by day, Alex felt a little bit more like she could breathe... like she was finally letting herself go, at least a little bit.

****

Now that she could comprehend and use her powers, it also seemed as if she'd started to become even more of a magnet for all sorts of emotion around her. And apparently Alex could do it in her sleep too.

The nightmares came in clusters most of the time, a badly cut-together mess of voices and feelings. The lady that lived under them, who lost her son when he was little. The couple from down the street, who were going through a hard time in their relationship. Even the little girl from upstairs, who had terrible night terrors of sharp-teethed monsters reaching from under her bed.

They all mixed inside her head until she woke up gasping for air and sizzling with emotion.

It was rare that she'd have a full dream, one that made sense and completed itself, but when she did they were always about Gabe. About sitting together at the rooftop of the Lantern and sharing a beer. Or climbing trees, like they used to do when they were little.

It was a relief from the usual doom.

And that dream was supposed to be nothing different. Or at least she thought it wasn't.

****

In it, they were at the ravine. A world of twinkling stars shining above their heads. The Colorado mountains all around them creating a landscape that was just as beautiful as it was bittersweet. Alex could see the log she'd crossed, still standing between her and the tiny outcrop of stone Ethan had been stranded on.

She hadn't dreamed of the ravine since leaving Haven Springs, but while she was there, Alex dreamt of it every night. She would see it when her eyes were closed. She could hear it, - the sirens, the terrible, deafening rumble of the ground splitting beneath them. The panic, pounding into her ears.

But this is different. Because when she looks around, Alex realizes she's standing over the elevated plateau, tied to the waist and leaning all her weight against a sturdy piece of rock.

Looking at her from below is Gabe. Lying on the cold ground. A cheesy smile spread across his face.

"Why are we switched?" Alex asks because that's all she can think of asking, as she stares at the rope that anchored her to the ground... to Gabe.

"Beats me. This is all your brain, not mine." He says, and Alex huffs in annoyance, "you know what's going to happen, but you keep coming here."

"I don't have a choice."

"Hmmm..." Gabe hums, but there's some humor in his expression as he stares intently back at her, "and that's exactly why... I'm here because I should say goodbye."

A coldness spreads over Alex's limbs. Around her, the very fabric of the dream dims into darkness as a strong breeze blows past them. She suddenly feels like throwing up.

"What- what does that mean?" It's a stupid question. This is her dream. Alex knows what it means.

Deep down, she knew she'd been conjuring him up for her own sake. Trying to bring back any morsel of relief into the giant hole he'd left inside her heart. However, Alex also knew at some point he'd be gone- she just didn't expect-

"You don't need me anymore, Alex." He says. As if it's that simple. As if she'd ever-

"I'll always need you, Gabe. Of course I need you." The words stumble out of her mouth, and she can feel the hot, angry tears falling down her face.

It feels like a hot iron pressed to the very top of her chest.

Like lava, boiling up into her bloodstream until Alex wants to punch something. The steam that prickles from under her skin, fighting to break free.

Anger always comes first when people feel cornered. It's something she noticed a while back. Out of all the emotions Alex had dealt with the past few months, that, at least, hadn't changed.

"Shit, Gabe. When you died I needed you more than ever."

"But we can't fix that, can we?" He asks, and another wave of anger rips through her. She looks anywhere but him, because Alex feels that if she does, she'll tackle and kill him all over again. But when he says nothing and they're left in the same pocket of silence - the one right before the whole world collapsed - her eyes eventually fall back to her brother. Tied to her and laid on the ground beneath. Looking at her like just as much the goofy asshole she missed so much.

Anger always felt urgent and fast, like a flash going through her body and leaving everything inside it in disarray. It demanded to be completely felt, but only for the moment it took for Alex to decide it wasn't worth launching the nearest object at a window.

Or trying to kill her dead brother.

"You might have needed Gabe. But you don't need this Gabe anymore, Alex. You can do it on your own now."

The fear and sadness that came after? They were usually much, much worse.

"But this is the only Gabe I have."

Those emotions, when mixed, turned into a horrible harmony that paralyzed her lungs and darkened the sides of her vision. They felt just as urgent as anger, but complacent. A beast staring at her from the very bottom of a pit. Tied to her by the waist and trying to lure her down into the abyss.

And, for Alex, the abyss was as deep as a ventilation shaft for a Colorado mining site.

"No, it's not. You'll always have me, Alex. And you know that." Not in the way that matters. Alex wants to say, but it's so redundant. He's the ghost. He should already know that. "And you have Ryan now, and Eleanor, Riley, Charlotte, Ethan... Steph..." he gives her a cheesy smile in the last name, wiggling his eyebrows back at her teasingly.

"Oh, God, way to ruin the moment." Alex can't help but chuckle a little through her tears. Is she blushing? You can't blame her for blushing, right? God, she feels like Diane.

"Hey. Let me have it. One of my only regrets is that I never got to tease the hell out of Steph for dating my little sister... and for being whipped as hell."

"That would have been so funny."

"I knew she'd get along with you but I guess I didn't expect... that. Shame on me. Should've had more artistic vision."

Alex chuckles as more tears run down her face. It's so bittersweet it hurts from the very inside of herself.

"All jokes aside. I'm glad you have her, and that she has you. She's good. Just make sure you tell her I'll haunt her from the grave if her dumb ass breaks your heart, okay?" Alex nods, and her body starts shaking with strangled sobs. So much emotion she just can't let go of. Because if she does, Alex is afraid there'll be nothing left.

"Hey. Don't cry. You can do this, Alex. You know how to live life now."

"I don't want to lose you again, Gabe."

"You'll never lose me. You'll just have to look a little harder." He smiles up at her, pulling jokingly on the rope, "now play your part - or is it my part? You get it."

And then- too soon. (Same as it was that night.) The sirens blast through the mountains, and somewhere above them, a giant explosion blows her eardrums, and boulders the size of cars come tumbling down the mountain.

She barely has time to blink. Barely has time to breathe one last time. Seen as she's Gabe, when she looks up all she sees is the giant rock, flying towards her, hitting her across the torso so hard, before she knows, she's flying way above the ravine, and one last glimpse of the stars catches hold over the veil of her memory before everything turns black.

****

She wakes up in bed, desperately clawing at the top of her chest as she gasps for air. Her lungs feel like they're made of lead, and all around her, she can feel the weight of the rocks, the explosion, the debris, weighing down her body.

Alex pats across the mattress for Steph, who is not there. Another wave of panic washes over her. So strong her mouth turns dry and her head aches as she tries to breathe in, but her lungs can only handle tiny, torturous gasps of half-breath.

Alex dispels a world of curses towards herself inside. Willing her own body to just calm down. In the bathroom, she can hear Steph singing softly to herself- she must have come home late from the DND tournament. Alex told her she'd swing by, but she'd had a long shift and ended up just passing out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Alex hadn't had an incident like this in very long. She could control it now. Most times. It wasn't easy, with being on the road and constantly surrounded by people. Sometimes, she still got more than she could bargain. When she walked across a depressed person on the sidewalk, or heard one of their multiple neighbors yelling at each other through the walls, and suddenly she felt as if the world blended out of focus into a tsunami of feeling.

Feeling that wasn't hers but still felt so much like it was.

Steph helped whenever it happened. For a sarcastic punk rock mess, she was surprisingly stable and so very reassuring.

Just the fact that she can hear her voice. That Steph is there in the apartment with her, is enough to calm some of her nerves, and while Alex still can't keep herself from pulling in gasps of air as she tries to hold in any kind of oxygen, she at least has a plan.

Water. Water will make her feel better, right?

Almost as soon as the idea crosses her mind, Alex's half-delirious brain commands her to get up, but her body feels so very heavy. Like she's really been trampled over by a wave of giant boulders. And as soon as her feet touch the ground, her legs give up under the weight, and she falls onto the hard floor with a loud, heavy thud.

The girl's hands fly up to hold her weight against the bed, and thankfully that means she doesn't face plant the ground, but it sends her heart into a neck-breaking pace, and all air Alex'd been able to gather so far escapes her in a single huff until she's hyperventilating again, hot, angry tears running down her face.

You're so weak. You're such a fucking idiot. Of course, you had to go and lose Gabe twice, who the fuck would want to stay with such a mess-

"Alex, are you okay?" Steph's voice comes, as she opens the door to find her girlfriend sitting on the ground, looking like she might pass out from just trying to get her lungs to work, "Alex!"

In a second she's crossed their room and kneeled by her, both hands going up to her cheeks on instinct, smearing away her tears.

"Breathe with me, okay? We've done this before, you can do it." She always gets just a tiny bit of a scared aura around her when Alex gets like this, never for long enough that she can read it, but it's still there, the tiny flutter of fear, "come on, breathe."

Her eyes go up to find Steph's, her strong, glittering green gaze. Alex might be the one with superpowers, but it was Steph who could so easily reach in and soften her edges like it was nothing. It was Steph who could just lean in and hold Alex's hand against her chest, letting her feel the determined rise of her lungs. Strong. Stable. Even Alex couldn't possibly understand how she did that.

How she always made Alex's breathing slowly come to shaky, deep breaths, crawling painfully out of her dry throat, but still better than gasping like a fish. Inside her, Alex feels the furious hurricane of emotion, twisting itself into the bottom of her lungs, taking hold of every bit of her until she felt like she could throw up.

"Wait here, I'll get you water," Steph says, and Alex wants to complain, she doesn't want to be alone, even for a second.

But before she can, Steph has left their bedroom for the kitchen, and Alex feels as if she's stable enough to crawl into bed, so she does so at a glacial pace. She grabs Shu-Shu, holding her close to her chest as she sits and waits for Steph.

She eventually comes back in with a glass full and Alex gulps it down in silence, unsure if whatever dam of emotion that has taken place inside of her will break if she tries to speak. So she sets the glass back and lies her head down on the pillow, facing away from Steph and the rest of the room as she tries to reel herself back in.

She can hear Steph taking off her boots and climbing into bed, one arm winding around her waist as she pulls Alex in closer.

"Was it the lady from upstairs?" Steph asks, eventually, after they sit in a few long minutes of silence.

"No." She replies, and it comes out so strangled, so broken, a few more tears run down her face. Steph pulls her even closer, a tight, steady pressure.

"The couple again? I swear to God I'll call the police on that asshole this time."

"No." Alex says, and she detaches herself from Steph just enough so she can turn around and look at her, "I had a dream about Gabe." Simply saying his name makes her whole body shake. Steph is looking at her so intensely, Alex has to close her eyes, holding on to the fabric of her shirt with all she had not to explode in whatever terrifying, dizzying bomb of emotion she could feel brewing inside herself.

Alex felt so much from other people it overwhelmed her multiple times a day, and even then, it was nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to how much sheer strength it took from her not to let it blow.

It scared her. More than anything.

"He wanted to say goodbye." She says eventually, "it was- I don't know. This- I- this isn't coming from anyone- How do I get rid of it? It's like it's all inside of me and it's taking up so much space and I don't know how to fix it" The words come tumbling out before she can stop them, and she's rambling through tears.

Steph sighs. And Alex can feel the love and sadness mixed together, blowing from her in waves as she holds Alex's chin, bringing her up so they can look at each other.

"Baby..." there are tears in her eyes now, as she pulls her closer until their foreheads are touching, and they are so close Alex can smell her lemongrass shampoo, "This is all yours."

And such simple words shouldn't hit her this fucking hard.

But it all suddenly makes so much sense-

Alex was numb after her dad left. She felt nothing for months. It was one of the most terrifying feelings in the world, a deep and powerful depression that threatened to overtake her at any given point.

Like her whole body was nothing but dead weight and her brain was way too tired to even try and keep up.

Young as she was, Alex guesses she never realized the first time she felt anything at all after that was when she discovered her powers. The day a boy came to the orphanage and he was so angry it blew her across the hallway. Ever since then, everything around her was a cacophony of feeling. Coming from every direction. Every street corner, every store, every park.

Every moment of her life since she was eleven, Alex could only feel for others.

"I- I forgot." She realizes, half surprise and half so much sadness another sob breaks through her throat.

Now it made sense, the anger, the sadness, the fear, a hurricane of emotion so very powerful it made her ears ring.

"I'm scared." She admits. Because for someone who had been so focused on learning how to exist among other people's feelings, Alex had no clue how to handle herself, "what do I do with all of this? How do I fix it?"

"Alex. Look at me." Steph brings her face upwards until they are so close, Alex can see the speckles of blue in her eyes, "Gabe died just four months ago, and you were there to see everything- then you got shot and thrown down God knows how many stories into a dark abyss that you somehow walked out of, but not before also finding out about your dad's tragic death - and I haven't seen you cry, actually cry, for yourself, even once."

"I- I can't, it's too much. I don't know how, Steph." Alex had learned her lesson. She'd seen her life as it was and survived it. Deep down she knew it wasn't her responsibility anymore - that it never was her responsibility, to begin with - to hold herself together for others. She knows.

But old habits die hard, and Alex guesses it'll take a while before she starts feeling it too.

Because right now, it still felt like the world might collapse if she wasn't there to hold it together.

"Just- give it to me. Everything you have, I can carry it for you." Steph says, with such determination, Alex actually believes her, but she takes her eyes away, trying to avoid the bubbling of tears threatening to jump out through her throat "Let it go, please, Alex. I can't watch you carry it alone anymore."

At that moment, Alex glances at her again, and there's so much pain, so much love in her eyes, that inside Alex, the dam finally breaks and she's choking on sobs. Tears start running down her cheeks as Steph leans in and pulls her closer, one arm around her shoulder and one on her hip, squeezing tight in reassurance.

If she didn't know better, Alex would've guessed Steph was the one with the superpowers, with the way she coaxes wave after wave of emotion out of her with nothing but her steady presence and quick, light kisses she leaves on Alex's head and hair as she holds on to her shirt for dear life.

It overwhelmed her more than anything she'd experienced so far, and for what feels like hours, she just sobs as Steph holds her.

She cries for her mom. Dead before her time, trying to hold them together to the very end. She cries for her dad, dying a slow death deep underground, a picture of the two children he'd never see again dangling around his neck. She cries for Gabe, for the time they'd never have, for the time they did have.

Above all, for the first time, Alex cried for herself. For being the last out of all of them. For the little girl that had to love and lose every single one of them in succession.

And in the middle of all of it, like a speckle of golden light hidden under all the darkness, for the first time, she feels that it could all start to feel alright.

[pretend-writer]

Down Below (Chapter 77)

Summary: After being sent down on Earth with the other prisoners from the Ark, Y/N Reyes faces series of events and learns about survival. With new things happening around her, she is now starting a new chapter in her life.

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader, John Murphy x reader, Raven Reyes x sister!reader

Word Count: 3.3k words

Warning: swearing, mention of death, murder and violence

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'Isn't it such a lovely day outside?' Josephine inhaled the fresh air whilst holding onto my hands that were tied up. 'If it weren't for this whole royal blood thing, we could totally have a picnic together.'

'With all due expect, I'll pass the invitation.' We were held against our will from Russell and his guards to guide them to our ship. I wasn't in a playful mood at all, especially when Emori and John were on their side now.

The two walked alongside Russell up front as we marched back to our ship, talking and having a casual conversation with him as if they didn't plot to kill him the night before.

Emori had threw us under the bus to save herself and John, I've never felt so betrayed. It hurt even more that John seemed okay with this, not doing anything to save us from Russell's insanity.

Josephine sighed, 'Come on. Bellamy has no chance with you after what he did and you and Murphy are practically broken up right?'

'I don't know, I have more important things to worry about. Like your homicidal father. And why do you know about what Bellamy did to me?'

'Abby told me. Emori helped me get through to her when I tried to find out how to get the royal blood. We started talking about you and-' She paused with a sad look on her face. 'She told me everything about everyone, spoke really nasty about you and how you're the reason why her life was a mess. Something about Marcus breaking up with her.'

I shook my head, crazy how I had to hear this from Josephine. Abby was never satisfied with anything, she was the one that made my life a living hell. 'She ruined her own fucking life, I didn't even know he broke up with her. He never told me.'

'Well, that's great. I have another competition going after you.'

'Marcus is family, more so my dad.' As I chuckled lightly watching her reaction, I asked her a question. 'Was talking to Emori and Abby the reason why you fooled some of our people?'

'Emori taught me how to be Clarke. It didn't help in the long run because eventually Murphy found out. Apparently I kept calling his "John".'

Madi walked up to me with a guard behind her, also holding onto her tied up hands. 'Y/N, why are you being friends with this murderer?'

'I'm not friends with her.'

'We're not?'

Turning around to face Josephine, I sighed. She curled her lips and nodded. 'I was only joking... kind of.'

'Well, Clarke is dead and nothing is a joke about that.' Madi implied, glaring at Josephine.

'Madi, remember it wasn't her that killed Clarke. It was Russell. She wasn't alive when everything happened so it's not necessarily her fault.'

'But she's a part of the clan that killed her.'

Oh, how I wish that I could just sit next to her and comfort her. I couldn't imagine how she felt when she was told that Clarke was gone from her life forever.

She reminded me of my younger self, how broken I was after my parents had passed. Even with the abuse that I went through, I was sad that my mother was gone.

The difference between us was that Clarke was with her the whole time. It hurt me that Madi lost someone so dear to her heart and she had no time to grieve.

'We shouldn't associate a person just because they're in the same clan. Miller was Wonkru but he was no where near bad as I was. Matter of fact, he was one of the very few people that didn't lose himself.'

Madi kept her head down, couldn't quite tell if she was feeling sad or not but I didn't want to pry. 'I'm no Clarke but if you need someone to talk to about anything, I'm here.'

She nodded her head up and down, not saying anything at all. I began to worry, hoping that she didn't suddenly feel sick. 'Are you okay Madi?'

'Yes, just a little headache. Some commanders in my head are distracting my thoughts.'

'Do you want me to call Gaia to help you? She's just walking a little ahead of us.'

'No, I'll be fine. Thank you Y/N.'

Josephine stared at Madi as she slowed down on pacing herself with us, eventually walking behind us. 'What's a commander?'

'Nothing.'

'You know Y/N, you should lighten up a little. It seems like you've been down since your little incident with Murphy.'

He wasn't the reason I was "down", I was angry at Emori and her selfish ways of selling us out just for some dumb mind drives. Was living for eternity so important, more important than any of our lives?

'It's not that, not that I need to owe you an explanation.'

'Ouch. I don't blame you for hating me though, my dad did kill this girl.'

'I don't hate you because you're his daughter. You're on the killer's side so I'm just hesitant.'

Josephine pouted, 'Aw. Even after our kiss?'

Miller butted in on our conversation, who was walking next to us. 'Kiss!? Y/N Reyes, you're such a player.'

'Shut up, Miller.' I rolled my eyes as he chuckled. 'Besides, she kissed me not the other way around.'

'Yeah, sure.'

Josephine was fairly nice to me, from what I've seen she wasn't a terrible person. Other than enabling John from getting hurt of course, even though that wasn't really her choice.

It would be great to have her on our side, having someone on the inside to help us get out of this mess. Especially her being Russell's daughter, there would be so much we can use against him but I highly doubt Josephine would take the route of betraying her family.

'We're here.' Russell signaled his armed guards to go in the ship as he whispered something into their ears. He then followed them inside after they've managed to open the ship, leading the rest of us inside.

'All clear.' Guards would yell as they invade our space, inspecting one hallway, one room at a time.

'What's going on?' I heard Jackson mumbling from the main area as the guards reached the last room. 'Why are you all here?'

Russell squeezed between his guards, 'We won't hurt you if you do as I say. All we want is for you guys to make the royal blood.'

'Don't do it.' Raven instantly gotten shoved as she spoke against Russell.

Jackson furrowed his brows as he saw Raven groan from pain, soon realizing something was odd. 'I-I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Just do as he says.' Emori jumped in, 'Make the nightblood and no one has to get hurt. Please.'

The rest of the room was silent, despite the old Wonkru people being there, standing behind Jackson. People were scared, I could sense their fear and confusion. I couldn't blame them, they'd thought that the next time we came back was to tell them our compound was ready.

Niylah walked next to Jackson, stared at Emori for a while. 'Why aren't you and Murphy tied up like the rest of them?'

'Can we just ask questions later, please?' John answered for her, 'Do we have everything we need to make the nightblood?'

'We do, once we fly this thing up.' Abby said as she was standing behind me, hands tied up also. 'I could make it, I just need access to the lab.'

Shaking my head, I turned around to Abby. 'You do realize you need Shaw to fly this ship up.'

A breath escaped Raven's mouth. 'Of course you have to drag him into this, Abby.'

'We don't have a choice right now.'

'There's always a fucking choice.' I yelled at her, 'Just like when we were at the bunker, there is always a choice. You are just too much of a pussy to make one.'

Russell let out a breathe, 'Abby. You come with me. The rest of you will stay in here.'

Murphy's POV;

The guards started to let go of everyone's restraints from their wrists, untying the ropes as they were finally free.

Bellamy immediately approached Y/N, worrying about her and asking questions regarding the situation. Perhaps they were plotting something, finding a way to stop Russell.

This had given me mixed feelings, feeling a little bit of guilt as Bellamy and Y/N have gotten closer. Echo was right, I have probably hurt Y/N for betraying her.

We've never talked about the morning she had told me she loved me either, not that it mattered anymore. Given the circumstances, she had probably forgotten about me already. I didn't blame her, I was the reason for us falling apart as it always was.

This also proved that I was right too, I should've killed Russell a long time ago. As soon as I was free from him, I should've ended everything. Instead Emori made a deal with him, made Y/N think that I was a part of this scheme.

Emori signaled me to come with her as Russell and his wife took Shaw and Abby with them out the room. I took a quick glance at Y/N, who was talking to Bellamy and her sister. I didn't want her to see me following Emori.

Walking quickly to avoid Y/N watching me, I exited the room with Emori. 'What's wrong? You don't agree with this all of the sudden?'

'I never agreed to this, Emori. We said we're going to get Russell at night, when he's sleeping. Not make a deal with him and get the rest of them in trouble.'

'You didn't care about Y/N's opinion but now all of the sudden you do?'

'That and this is different! Now she's held against her will where Russell can possibly kill her.' I held my head, pacing back and forth. 'Instead you got us on his side, I never wanted this.'

Emori held my hand, pulling me closer. 'John, don't you get it? I did this for you.'

'But I never wanted this. I just wan-'

'We can live forever, together. I got this damn mind drive just for you.'

I could see the sorrow and desperation in her eyes. This was all my fault, I broke her heart back at The Ring. Knowing how much she needed me, I decided to leave her.

It wasn't an easy choice to make. At The Ring, I still loved Y/N and believed that she was alive, hoping that Abby and Jackson somehow fixed her after she was exposed from radiation. Even though there was a possibility that I would never see her again, I couldn't be with Emori knowing that my heart belonged to someone else.

But that wasn't enough for Emori, I still hurt her. She would've rather had me fake it than leave her.

'John... why her, why not me?'

'I don't know, Emori. I loved you and I'll always love you. We had our great times but I'm in love with Y/N and I think I've always have been. I'm sorry I don't have an explanation for that.'

Emori shocked her head, it seemed like tears were falling but she was trying to hide it. 'Pathetic, you should've told me this when we broke up.'

'You walked away from me when I wanted to talk to you, don't blame this on me.'

'I just wanted you to fight for me. I'd thought that if I walked away, you'd realize what you had lost.'

The past few years, Emori acted as though the break up didn't hurt her. She was good at hiding it, I never thought that she was feeling this way. 'I'm sorry, Emori. I-I don't know what to say.'

‘It’s... fine. You’ve said enough.’ Emori walked away from me, left to the room where Russell, Simone, Shaw and Abby entered. Sighing, I went back to the room I came from.

Joining in their circle, Echo raised her eyebrows. ‘Your best friend, Russell went the other way Murphy.’

‘I’m not a part of this nor did I agree to this. I didn’t know Emori was going to make a deal with him.’

Talking quietly amongst ourselves, Y/N looked at me. ‘You are a part of it because you didn’t say shit to back us up. This is on you and Emori.’

'I thought you said not to associate them?' Madi looked up at Y/N, I didn't quite understand what she meant by that.

'Madi-' Y/N huffed and pulled her closer, whispering something in her ears.

It stung me that Y/N felt that way about me, there was anger and hatred behind her eyes as she looked at me. This was all my fault so she wasn’t to blame at all, although I was bothered that Emori had dragged me into this. It was the fact that I didn’t do anything about it.

‘Y/N, can we talk in private please?’

‘Do you seriously think now is a good time?’

Bellamy bit his lips and stared at the floor. I bet he was amused at this, watching Y/N and my relationship crumble down. Not only did it hurt me that Y/N was upset with me, Bellamy was getting too comfortable and that irritated me.

Raven looked at Y/N, then me. Her eyes said it all, "give her some space." I rolled my eyes, frustrated in myself and how stupid I've been the last few days.

'So later is now, Murphy. Are you going to answer my question?' Jackson had sensed Y/N wasn't happy with me, assuming that she didn't want to speak and instead changed the subject.

'Like I said earlier, Emori made a deal with Russell. I realize once that he had took everyone else except me and her, that she had some sort of new plan that involved me.'

Y/N's POV;

John irritated me. Just everything made me mad, it was betrayal and I felt as though he took his ex's side over mine. Not that I was more important, knowing that we didn't put a label on our relationship. I just expected more but perhaps I was overthinking.

He claimed that Emori orchestrated everything and I believed him, but I was still mad at him. Call me selfish but couldn't quite forgive him just yet.

I've even told Madi after she had tried to use my words against me; I simply told her that it was different. She replied back with "how?"

The girl was too smart because she was right, it wasn't different. I was too stubborn to admit to her and she knew that because she smirked back at me. She was quite the cheeky one, Clarke did something right for once.

'So back to the plan?' Miller ignored Murphy, 'How are we going to stop Russell from getting the nightblood?'

'There's only a few guards, we can easily take them.' Echo said.

'Yeah but if they fire their guns, it's over. Russell's going to find out we're resisting and can kill us. We need to find another way.' I replied back.

It would've been easy to take them down if it wasn't for their weapons, that'll notify Russell and all of our effort would be for nothing. Instead, I thought of a better plan; Something that can work but I needed this little one to agree with me.

As I looked over at Madi, I smiled. She crinkled her brows in response. 'What?'

'Are you up for a challenge? I think I have a plan that can work.'

'Of course, what do you want me to do?'

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'It's been a while since Madi had gone, you think she's okay?' Jackson whispered to us, trying to make sure the guards wouldn't hear us talking.

'She's led Wonkru through the gorge, she'll be fine.' Echo reassured us, not that I was worried. I trusted her with everything, especially with her helping us after Wonkru had fallen when Octavia and I fucked everything up.

Our plan was to have Madi crawl into a vent to get some of the criminals out to help us. Since the vent was too small for any of us to fit, she was a perfect candidate for this plan. Echo and Raven had a fake argument to distract the guards while we helped Madi into the vent.

It had been about fifteen minutes since then, waiting patiently for Madi to come back with help. John would look at me from time to time, figured he was trying to find the right timing to come to talk to me.

Of course I wanted to talk to him too, try to go back to how things were before but given the fact that we were in a life or death situation right now, I had to concentrate. Not only that but I was also feeling a bit of jealousy about him and Emori.

Not going to lie, that was main the reason why I didn’t want to talk to him just yet but I wasn't going to admit that.

‘How are you holding up?’ Bellamy scooted closer to me as I was leaning against the wall. ‘Still want to keep Russell alive?’

Raising my brows, I stared at him with a confusing look. He chuckled lightly. ‘I was kidding, sorry.’

‘You’re funny but Russell was not what I had in mind.’ There was no way I was going to tell him that it was John that crossed my mind, we didn't need a real argument to start at this moment.

‘Yeah I figured but I-I just didn’t know what to say to you. It felt like it had been so long since we had a decent conversation with each other.’

I had to admit, it was cute seeing Bellamy acting shy and awkward. Or maybe perhaps the argument that I had with John was making me see Bellamy in a different way again. I didn’t like it, the way my heart would switch between the two, it wasn’t fair for them and it sure as hell was not fair for me either. Already having so much to deal with, I didn’t want my love life to be more complicated than it already was.

Just as I was about to reply to Bellamy, a noise came from the electrical doorway that was locking us in. Everyone in the room including the guards turned to face that direction, getting ready for whoever was trying to come in.

After that noise was just pure silence, it was as if everyone was holding their breath. That wasn't until a few moments later, the door opened widely, revealing Madi and several armed criminals standing behind her.

‘Put down your weapons, it’s over.’ Madi walked in, ‘You shoot and you are all dead including your precious Primes.’

‘That’s my girl.’ I smiled, approaching Madi while the rest of the criminals worked their way to the guards, tying their hands with the ropes that were used on us earlier. 'Any signs of Russell?'

‘Nope, I don't think him and his wife suspected a thing.’ She grinned back, giving me a high five. ‘You are forgetting something though.’

‘What do you mean?’

She turned around and pointed behind her, where Marcus was standing by the door way with a huge smile on his face. He looked perfectly healthy, as if the surgery and the incident never happened. He waved his hand, greeting me. ‘Hey monkey.’

Instantly I ran off to hug him, jumping onto him as I wrapped my arms tightly around him. ‘Sorry, I know you’re hurt and all but I couldn’t help it.’

‘No, it’s fine.’ I felt his breath on my neck as he lightly laughed, ‘I don’t care about that at all. I’m just glad to see you again kiddo.’

Burying my face into his shoulder, I started to cry. With everything that was happening from Russell’s murder to my problems with Bellamy and John, I was so glad to see Marcus again. ‘I’m glad to see you too.’

He cupped my face, wiping the tears off my cheeks with his thumbs. 'We're going to help our people, together this time.'

It was nice to have Marcus back on his two feet, I was more happy that he was by my side this time. 'Sounds like a plan.'

[prismatica-the-strange]

Helpless (Bolin x Korra’s Adopted Sister) | Part 1

You’re only adopted if you want to be. This just gives people freedom to put their preference of origin.

This started off as a Helpless from Hamilton song fic, and you can kind of see that in the beginning, but it sorta took on a life of its own

Warnings:... None? I think

Words: 2,262

    Your parents always told you the ocean sent them their second child. Korra found you on the shore one day when they were out by the water when she was 2. You were so young and nearly dead from the freezing water, but Katara healed you and Korra's parents raised you as their own.

        "Where are you going?" You asked, not looking up from your book. Korra froze in her tracks.

        "No where?"

        "Uh-huh." You looked over the top of the book at her.

        "What?" She chuckles scratching the back of her neck.

        "You're going back to the arena, aren't you?" You sigh, going back to reading. 

        "Yeah."

        "If Tenzin finds out-"

        "Yeah well, Tenzin won't find out."

        "Are you threatening me, Kor?" You teased, turning to the next page.

        "No...." She looks around quickly, "Hey you should come with me!"

        "What?" You look at her incredulously. "No-"

        "Oh c'mon!" She tried.

        "Kor, that's your thing." You reasoned, "My thing is fuzzy blankets and a good book."

        "Just one night, please?" She pushed your book down and pouted, "I promise you'll have fun!"

        You pulled my book from her hands and got up to leave. Your mistake was looking back at her squatting figure, pouting up at you.

        "Ugh! Fine!" You give in, grabbing a jacket and tucking your book under your arm, "One night!"

        "Yes!" She jumped in the air, pumping her fist. "Let's go!"

        She grabbed your wrist and pulled you away.

        "And this is where you can watch the match." Korra smiled, reaching for the handle.

        "Korra! You're late," A tall boy, about your age, growled as he threw the door open.

        "Sorry (Y/n) here dragged her feet the whole way and I had to get my gear on-"

        "You can explain later," he snapped, pulling her along.

        You followed behind and watched as the platform they stood on extended towards the play area.

        "Here come fan favorites theeee "Fireee Ferretsss!" The announcer shouted and the whole building erupted in cheers.

        You scoffed leaned on the rail at the edge of the room.

        That's when one of Korra's teammates turned around to wave at the crowd. Your eyes met for a moment, he smiled and waved at you and your heart went boom.

        The match started and the Fire Ferrets kicked major butt. Korra was definitely in her element.

*Bolin's POV*

        "Yes! We won- again!" I cheered. Fist bumping Mako. I looked back at the team box and that girl was still there, smiling. Jeez, that smile could kill me.

        "What'cha looking at Bolin?" Korra asked, and I froze.

        "N-nothing!"

*Y/n's POV*

        The other boy, who you knew was Bolin from the announcer, Looked back at you again after they won and you smiled at him. A moment later, Korra grabbed his arm and the platform started shifting back towards the team box.

        "Bolin, This is my sister, (Y/n)!" She grinned widely as she pushed the poor boy towards you.

        "S-sister?!" He seemed shocked before clearing his throat, taking off his helmet, and holding his hand out to you, "H-hi, I'm Bolin."

        "Hi," you nearly giggled as you shook his hand. Looking into green eyes you were helpless, you had to look away before you started drowning in them.

        "What's with them?" Another voice asked, and both of you realized you were still holding hands. You quickly pulled away, your face bright pink.

        "Mako!" Korra growled before sighing, "Hey why don't we all go out to get some food?"

        "Oh, we ate before the-"

        "Great! Cause I know this great place!" Korra started pushing a red-faced Bolin toward the door, dragging you behind her.

~~~~~

        The atmosphere around the table was awkward, to say the least. Before you could say anything Korra shoved you into one side of a booth and Bolin on the other. 

        "So uh, (Y/n)," Bolin started as Korra ordered a surplus of Sweet buns, "I-I don't think I've seen you around before."

        "I spend most of my time on Airbender Island reading and... stuff." You reached for your water and went for a drink when it was knocked all over you by Korra.

        "Kor!" You exclaimed, flicking water from your hair at her. "You jerk!"

        You lurched forward, grabbing her drink (Also water) and dumping it on her.

        "Hey!" She laughed water bending the water out of her clothes and splashing you in the face with it, making you squeal. "You asked for it!"

        You were laughing when you caught Bolin watching you out of the corner of your eye, he had a dreamy smile and you felt your cheeks heat up.

        "A little help please, Kor?" You asked wheezing.

        "Fine," She sighed, being the water out of your hair and clothes, dumping it in a nearby mop bucket.

        Mako rolled his eyes, muttering about how childish you were, and Korra stuck her tongue at him.

        You chuckled, pushing the hair out of your face. You looked over at Bolin who had his elbow on the table, his cheek resting in hand. He wore a cute little smile and what you could only call heart eyes, but before you could say anything the waiter brought out your food.

        There was ambient chit chat as you ate, nothing important, but you and Bolin definitely caught each other staring.

        As the night wound down and you and Korra had to start home, you felt someone grasp your hand. You turned around to see a nervous Bolin.

        "I had fun, it was great meeting you (Y/n)." 

        "Me too, Bolin." You bit your lip before kissing his cheek and hurrying to catch up with your sister, leaving him standing there with this goof smile on his face.

        "Maybe we could do it again?" He called after you.

~~~~

        The next few days Korra's time was monopolized with Airbender training, and you couldn't stop thinking about Bolin. Even Tenzin, with the near-impossible task of getting your sister to pay attention, could tell you were in an extremely happy state. The look on your face was something he would compare to lovestruck.

        Korra was over the moon, she could see just how helplessly into him you were the moment the two of you locked eyes. Now you were twirling around as you walked around and humming happily as you read.

        Mako, on the other hand, was near the end of his rope. It's been three days and Balin hadn't shut up about you.

        "(Y/n) is so pretty," 

        "I wonder what (Y/n)'s favorite color is?"

        "Do you think (Y/n) like flowers?"

        Sure, Mako was happy his brother found someone (hopefully) but he was about to start pulling his hair out.

~~~~~~

        "Knock knock~" Korra poed her head into your room, "So the Ferrets and I have a match tonight and I was wondering-"

        "Yes!" You jumped to your feet and Korra laughed, making you blush. "I-I mean yes, I do want to go with you."

~~~~~

        "What are you doing?" Mako asked as his younger brother was fixing his hair in the mirror, again.

        "Fixing my hair, duh."

        "Why?"

        "What if Korra brings (Y/n) again?!" He whined, "I don't wanna look stupid."

        "Well then you should do something more like this," Mako launched himself at his brother and started messing with his hair.

        "Ah! Mako stop!" He tried getting Mako off him and the two fell in a heap on the floor.

        They froze when they heard laughing at the door.

        "(Y-y/n)!" Bolin exclaimed, face turning red as the got to their feet.

        "Hi to you too, Bolin," Korra teased.

        "Ah! Korra! Hi!" he awkwardly waved at the two of you.

        "You ready to kick butt and get to the Semifinals???" Mako asked and Bolin suddenly realized his hair was sticking in every direction.

        "Are you kidding? I was born ready!" Korra replied excitedly. You took off your jacket and folded it on your lap as you sat on the bench.

        "S-so (Y/n)," Bolin started, running his hand through his hair, "Do you maybe wanna-"

        Suddenly a little red animal jumped into your lap and started sniffing your face.

        "Uh! Pabu stop! What are you-" He stopped short when you started giggling.

        "Stop! That tickles!" You laughed, carefully picking up the little creature and holding him away from your face. "Who's this?"

        "His name is Pabu, he's a fire ferret," Bolin explained as Pabu wriggled out of your hands. He ran up your arm and sat on your shoulder, nuzzling your face.

        "It's nice to meet you, Pabu," You smiled. Bolin watched you scratch under Pabu's chin and, by the spirits, he knew he was in love.

        The words "Marry Me," fell from his lips before he could think.

        "Huh?" You looked at Bolin, confused.

        "Nothing! I said nothing! Oh look we're up! Talk to you later (Y/n)!" He panicked, pulling his helmet on and rushing to the moving platform.

~~~~~~~

        "Marry me," Mako teased as they moved toward the main platform.

        "I know! I'm such an idiot!" Bolin cried, "It just sorta slipped out! I probably sounded so stupid!"

        "Nah," Korra slung her arm over his shoulders, "Knowing (Y/n), she most-likely thinks it was adorable."

        "You think?" He asked hopefully.

        "Come on guys, you gotta getcha, getcha, getcha heads in the game."

~~~~~~~~

        "That's the Match folks! And The Fire Ferrets Advance to the semifinal round of the Pro Bending Tournament!" The man announced, "Hopefully by that time Bolin will be completely recovered."

        Korra and Mako help Bolin stay on his feet on the way back to the Team box.

        "Is he alright?" You asked, "That was a pretty nasty blow to the head that last round."

        "He's kind of out of it right now, but after some rest and maybe an icepack, he'll be fine," Mako told you.

        "Mako!" Bolin failed to whisper, "She's worried about me! Does that mean she likes me?"

        You stifled a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand.

        "She's laughing! Did I do something stupid?!" Bolin asked, upset. 

        You leaned toward Korra and whispered, "He so precious!"

        "What are you talking about-"

        "Bolin wait!"

        Then you were on the floor, Bolin on top of you. You stared up at him in shock, his bright green eyes gleaming.

        "You're even prettier up close," He said quietly before going limp.

        "I think he passed out!" You wheezed as you were crushed by his weight.

~~~~~~~~~

        "My head," Bolin groaned as he sat up.

        "Mornin' sleeping beauty," Mako called from the other side of the apartment.

        "What happened?"

        "Well, we won," He handed his younger brother a glass of water. "Then you tackled (Y/n)."

        "Ok, cool..." It took him a moment to process what Mako had said, "I DID WHAT?!"

        "Calm down!" Mako tried to get his brother to sit down, "It wasn't really a tackle, it was more like you tripped... and landed on top of her?"

        "That's not any better!" I slumped on the couch, his head in his hands. "Why can't I get anything right around her?"

~~~~~~~

        A couple of days later the four of you went out to eat again.

        "Hey (Y/n), how're you doing? I heard I tackled you in my confusion." Bolin asked when you guys met up at the restaurant.

        "I'm fine," You chuckled, waving him off, "My wrist is almost done healing...?"

        You looked at Mako who was vigorously signing for you two stop.

        "Your wrist? What happened you your wrist?!" Bolin asked, panicked.

        "Huh? Oh, I uh- when we fell I sprained my wrist," You showed him your wrapped wrist, "It wasn't bad though, so it's almost healed. I'm surprised Mako didn't tell you."

        "I swear I didn't mean to hurt you (Y/n)," He said earnestly, pulling you into a hug, "I am so sorry!"

        "It's okay Bolin, really," You tried to tell him, "I've definitely had a lot worse than a sprain. Right, Korra?"

        You squinted at her, remembering the time you broke your right arm and leg because of 'Extreme Penguin sledding' something you were assured was 'perfectly safe' and 'not dangerous at all' by your big sister.

        "Hey! I already said I was sorry!" She snapped, "And it's not my fault that you suck at penguin sledding!"

        You felt Bolin's head buried in your shoulder and you sighed hugging him back.

        "Seriously Bolin, It's alright," You gave him a squeeze, "Accidents happen."

        "You're sure you're okay?" He pulled away and reached for your injured wrist before hesitating.

        "Look, I'm starving, can we please sit and eat?" Korra whined, pushing you into a booth.

        Bolin sat across from you looking akin to a kicked puppy. While Korra and Mako were arguing what to order you offered your wrapped wrist to Bolin. He looked a little shocked.

        "You reached for it, right? I'm guessing you wanted to look it over?" You asked and he gulped before gingerly holding your wrist in his hands.

        "You're sure it's not broken?" He looked up at you.

        "Positive."

        "Does it hurt?" He asked quietly.

        "Only if I put weight in it," You shrug and his eyebrows scrunched like he was thinking about something. "You uh... You were gonna ask me something before the match the other day?"

        He looked up at you with wide eyes, you'd remembered that?! He put your hand down and cleared his throat.

        "Oh, that? That was, heh. That was nothing."

        "Okay...?"

        "He was gonna ask you out," Mako said before taking a drink of water.

         "What?!"

Part: Two   (Masterlist)

[pascalscenarios]

WHEN STARS CROSS (Din Djarin x Royal Reader)

Din Djarin x Royal Reader  

Summary: You had a strange feeling that something was going to happen. This is your first encounter crossing paths with The Mandalorian.

Warning: Mentions of blood, wound, murder 

Words: 3,961

Author's Note: Hello! Okay I know I said my Agent Whiskey Fic, Common Ground, is coming out soon, and it is, but I’ve never seen the Kingsman movies (oops) and I realize that I probably should watch it to help me write to have a better understand of whiskey and the statesman. I’ve put off the story for now until I’ve seen Kingsman. So for compensation here is a Din Djarin Fic! I wrote part of this way back when season one came out. I was never going to post it, it was more for myself, but I decide to let it thrive and go somewhere. 

I hope you all are doing well. Enjoy and again sorry about the whiskey delay. 

- K

PRO |

PROLOGUE PART 1

07 BBY

Adrenaline surged through the young Mandalorian’s body as he quickly rushed into the cockpit of the Razor Crest. He immediately takes a seat in the pilot chair, starting the engine. The cockpit came to life with an array of colors surrounding him. He hastily pushed buttons and flipped switches on the control boards to prepare the ship for take-off.

His heart pounds against his chest. Anxiety washed over him like a tidal wave as he tries his best to remain calm and act swiftly, knowing it's the only way he’ll make it off this planet alive.

The Mandalorian pushes another lever powering the thrusters. He grips the control handles, slowly leaning them forward. The Razor Crest lifts off the ground and soon gains speed as it continues its bumpy ascend off the planet.

Once breaking free from the planet's atmosphere, The Mandalorian punches in coordinates into his navigation system. He grabs the hyperdrive shift, causing the ship to jump into hyperspace.

Mando leans back into the pilot's chair, letting out a sigh of relief. The adrenaline that once coursed through his body subsided. He could feel the sores and pains arising as he let himself be at ease.

He sat there reflecting on what happened. It was a bounty gone wrong. Mando was after a target, a smuggler who owed several colleagues a large sum of credits. He found his target only to be ambushed.

Mando could put up a heck of a fight, having been raised in the fighting core from a young age, he was heavily outnumbered. It’s been a few months since becoming a part of the bounty hunters guild. He was a rookie, still learning the ropes. Over time he knew he’d get the hang of things.

He winces in pain, causing him to sit up slightly. He moves his right hand to the left side of his torso where the pain resides from. He lifts his hand up, examining the bright red blood that coated his glove. Tilting his head down, he sees the deep gash on his side, blood seeping excessively, staining his armor and clothes.

Mando placed his hand back on the wound, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. He gets up from his seat, exiting the cockpit and climbing down to the lower deck of the ship. He heads over to his sleeping quarters, reaching for a compartment mounted on the side of the wall. Opening the compartment, he rummaged through the medical supplies he had left. He grabs a silver spray vile, that contains Bacta to help heal him in a matter of hours.

He sits on the edge of his bed and pushes down on the button on the vile to plaster the Bacta over his wound. Nothing came out of the vile.

“Come on…” He said frustratedly pushing the button again only to end up with the same result. The vile was empty.

“Dammit!” He cursed, throwing the vile across the room. He looked through the compartment again. None of the materials left would be of use to help him dress his wound. He needs something to hold him over, just until he lands and can properly deal with his wound.

An idea pops into Mando's head, leans over on his bed, snatching his pillow behind him. He rips the fabric open revealing the cotton stuffing. He takes a handful of the cotton and packs it in his wound to soak up the blood.

Quickly the pure white cotton turns crimson red as it makes contact with his bloody wound. He continues to pack the deep gash to the best of his ability, then rips a piece of his cape off. He takes the strip of fabric, wrapping tightly around his torso.

After securing the piece of fabric, he heads back up to the cockpit.

He was headed to Carnelian, a small and peaceful planet. It was known as a haven planet providing a safe place for those who are fleeing their home planets to escape the galactic empire, war, persecution, and natural disasters… or so that's what he heard through word of mouth.

He could have gone back to the covert, but there was no way he could reach them from where he was. Carnelian was his best option. He can fix himself up, lodge for a bit, and head back on his way.

…

You're nervous. Maybe you should just go back home. Maybe you were reading into this too much. You stood outside your kingdom's reader, Lady Uchis, home. She was the oldest and wisest woman in your kingdom, having a gift of foresight. For the past few days, you’ve been feeling strange. You had a feeling that something was going to happen, but you didn’t know what it was. Maybe she could help you make sense of what you’ve been feeling and possibly give you answers.

Before you could knock on the door, it swings open.

“Your highness! What a pleasure! I had a feeling you would be coming to see me!” The old woman smiled.

“Lady Uchis” You smiled.

“Come in child!” She welcomes you into her home.

“Sit child” she motions you to sit at your round table. You take a seat down on the stool, Lady Uchis following behind you.

“Tea my dear?” picking up the pot from the table.

“No, thank you”

She sets the pot back down and sits across the round table from you.

“Lady Uchis, I have been feeling strange for the last few days. I have a feeling like something is going to happen, but I’m not quite sure what”

“Let's see, give me your hands.” She asks.

You hold out your hands, letting her take it in hers. She closes her eyes, concentrating on your energy and what she feels.

“You have been feeling anxious about becoming ruler…” She stays quiet, listening. She smiles. “You have a promising future. I see you being a wonderful ruler one day…”

“Oh my..” she gasps.

“What? What is it?” You looked at her worried.

“I see someone in your future…”

You furrow your eyebrow at her.

“You will meet them soon. Your stars are crossed with this person. You two will face many trials and tribulations with them, but just because your stars are crossed, doesn’t mean your stars won’t align. It may take a few cycles to get to that point. You may not see it or realize it at first, but there will come a time when you’ll know they are the one...”

You were taken back by what she said. You weren’t expecting her to give you a love reading. You thought she would tell you more about coronation in a few weeks and have answers to the feeling you’ve been having. Maybe you were just overreacting. It was probably coronation nerves.

“Djarin…”

“Djarin? What does that mean? Is that a name?”

“I’m not sure…Somethings that came into my head. I think it will be important for later on. I’m not sure when though.” She opens her eyes.

You sat there trying to process the information. Djarin...What could it mean?

...

You walked through the meadow that resides behind the palace. You've been out here for a while, taking in the fresh air. You were thinking about what Lady Uchis had told you.

“Your highness!” Oni shouted as she stood near the castle walls. Oni was your aide, taking care of you since you were a young child. She was older than you by 15 years. In your eyes, she was like a sister, your best friend.

You continued to walk through the meadow, sticking your hands out to the side to feel the tall wild grass brush against your palms. You come to a stop, turning around to face Oni.

Oni starts walking towards you, “You’ve been out here all afternoon, are you alright?”

“I’m quite alright. I just feel strange…”

“How so?” Oni having a questioning look on her face.

An anxious feeling settled inside you. The feeling you’ve been having the last few days, you were feeling current. It was just because of the coronation or was it something else?

“I don’t know…”

“Is it because of the coronation?”

“Perhaps...” Your coronation was coming up in a few weeks. Soon you will be the ruler of Carnelian. It was a lot of pressure and expectations. You loved and cared deeply for the people and beings that lived in the kingdom. You just hoped that when you became ruler, you wouldn't let your kingdom down.

“There is nothing to be worried about, you will make a great and lovely ruler” Oni Pressured you.

You pick a long piece of grass, fiddling with it in your hand. “What if I’m not ready?”

“You were born to do this, it's in your blood.”

“Do you know what Djarin is?” You change the subject.

Oni was confused. “Djarin? No, why do you ask? What is that?”

“It’s nothing. Just forget about it…”

“Come inside, we have to alter your outfit for the coronation,” Oni says turning away from you walking

You slowly turned, staring at the vast green trees that lined the edge of the meadow. You didn’t know what it was, but something was telling, calling you to go into the forest.

“Oni… Some things are not right…”

Without thinking, you rushed towards the end of the meadow and made your way into the forest, letting your intuition guide your way. As you traveled deeper into the forest you came across a clearing. You stopped dead in your tracks as you noticed a body laying on the ground a few yards away from you. The body was covered in armor. You couldn’t quite make out who or what it was. You thought it could be one of the guards, but their armor looked nothing like this being was wearing.

Oni called after you, you could hear her running up behind you.

“What are you- oh my stars!” She gasped staring at the body.

You both stood in shock. Nothing like this has ever happened in Carnelian.

You start to make your way towards the body, but Oni grabs your arm stopping you. “No! What are you doing?!”

“Oni, we can’t leave them there!”

“We have no idea who or what it might be or where they came from!” you could hear the fear in her voice. She began to look around to see if anyone was around if they were endangered.

“Go get help” you ordered.

“No! I am not leaving you here with whoever that is! We don’t know who out here in this forest to cause something like this! we need to go back to the palace now-” she grabs your wrist

“Oni, they might be injured, we need to help them if they do!”

“Your highness-”

“Oni, go quickly! I promise you I’ll be alright-”

She sighs, letting go of you. “If your father has my head for this!” She picks up some of the fabric of her dress and races back through the forest, going back to the place for help.

Once she was out of sight you made your way over to the body.

They were sprawled out in the grass on their back. Their armor was old and rusty, barely fitting the shape of their body. They wore menacing helmets with a tinted T-shaped visor masked their identity. The same T shaped your memory of seeing as a child when they invaded Carnelian during the Clone Wars.

It was a Mandalorian. They were rare to see, only a handful left in the galaxy after The siege of Mandalore. Although your kingdom had a terrible past with Mandalorians, you were not fearful. Something telling you they were okay.

You drop down to the ground on the left side of their body, sitting on your knees. You look down at their torso seeing the blood seeping from a deep gash. You search around trying to figure out where he might have come from. A few feet from their body you notice a trail of blood leading to another part of the forest.

You were unsure if they were still alive. You couldn’t tell if they were breathing. You decided it was best to remove their helmet. Your hands grab the side of their helmet, but before you could pull it up, their hand grabs a fist full of your hair.

You yelp out in surprise, being caught off guard. Their left-hand holds up a knife to your throat. Your hands fly and grip to their hands holding a fist full of your hair and your other hand grips their wrist to prevent them from slitting your throat open.

They were sure alive and well alert.

‘Who are you?” They say sternly, but wincing from the pain they were in.

It was a man.

Tears form in your eyes, your chest heaving. You knew you needed to stay calm and try not to provoke him. He was most likely just as scared as you. He was passed out for who knows how long, disoriented and his memory hazy. You were a complete stranger to him as well. You didn’t blame him for his reaction.

You give him your name.

“Where am I?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat ���Y-you’re on the planet, Carnelian.”

The Mandalorian had made it to Carnelian but has no recollection of landing or how he even managed to walk through this forest. Where was his ship?

“I-I stumbled upon you...you’re injured. You have a deep gash on your side, you’re losing blood-” You say softly, your hands still gripping to him.

“I can help you if you let me…” you say shakily.

The Mandalorian looks at you. You looked completely harmless, but he didn’t want to trust you. He trusted no one, sometimes not even other Mandalorians.

He loosens his grip on your hair and removes the blade from your neck. You sigh in relief, that he was off his defense mechanism mode.

You observe his gash, noticing it was packed with stuffing that was already bleeding through completely.

He slowly starts to sit up “I don’t need help”

You quickly rip a piece of fabric off of what you were wearing and apply it to the wound, pressing down.

“No, lay back down and stop moving” You put your hand on his metal-plated chest, and slowly ease him down.

The Mandalorian gasps and groans in pain, this time grabbing one of your wrists as you applied more pressure to his wound.

“I’m sorry...you have to stay still...You’re losing a lot of blood- I have to”

The Mandalorian was growing tired, breathing heavily. He was about to go under again. He fought his best to keep his eyes open.

You feel his grip loosen from your wrist, his hand going limp. His helmed head tilting over to the side.

“No no no, hey stay with me”

“Your highness!” You look over your shoulder to see that Oni had returned with a few guards in a land speeder.

“Your highness, are you hurt?!” One of the guards asked as they trickled out of the speeder, coming over to you and The unconscious Mandalorian.

“A Mandalorian?” Oni's eyes widen as she sees you sitting beside him, your arms and clothes soaked in his blood. “No, we are not taking them back! We need to leave them here!” Oni rushes over to you, trying to pull you away from his body.

“We need to take him back to the palace right away, he needs to be taken to the medical bay immediately,” You say without answering their questions and you fight Oni’s grip.

“Your grace, he’s not going to make it. Looks like he lost a sufficient amount of blood-” a guard says.

“Leave them here! Let the guards deal with him- Let’s go!” Oni tells you.

“No, I’m not letting him die! We have to give him a fighting chance! If we take him now we can help him!” You quickly pack his wound with the fabric you were using to press against the wound.

“But-”

“Now!” you shouted angrily.  

The guards quickly grab a medical board, securing him on and lifting him, bringing him onto the back of the speeder. You quickly get into the speeder with everyone and rush back to the palace.

…

When you got back to the palace, several medical droids stood by with a gurney.

The guards quickly transfer The Mandalorian onto the gurney. You step out of the speeder and start walking with the medical droids as they rush The Mandalorian inside the palace.

“Where is the doctor?” You asked the main medical droid, ITE 415, as you walk alongside the gurney as you travel through the foyer.

“Unfortunately, the doctor is up north and will not be back until tomorrow”

Oni ran up, quickly walking beside you. She couldn’t believe you would help a Mandalorian out of all the people and beings in the galaxy.

“Your Father is absolutely going to be livid! I can’t believe you brought them back! You should have left them out there and let the guards deal with them!”

“He’s still a person! He needed help!”

“You of all people should know what his kind did to our kingdom!” Oni snaps.

The Mandalorian groaned awake, his helmet moving around, noticing the droids.

“No-” The gurney stops moving.

“Hey, it’s okay” you move closer to him coming into his view.

“N-no droids... I-I don’t do droids-” he says faintly trying to sit up.

You place your hand back on his chest, pushing him back down. “The doctor isn’t here. He’s up north and will be back tomorrow, but droids will take care of you. You’re in good hands”

“My helmet…don’t...” The Mandalorian slurred.

“What about your helmet?” you asked, unsure why he was bringing it up in a moment like this.

“...Don’t take it off…”

Don’t take off his helmet? You were confused. “The medical droids will need to take it off in order to check-”

The Mandalorian cuts you off by grabbing her hand.

“Promise me… they won’t take it off… please”

“I promise…Take him to the medical bay, I’ll be there in a few minutes… whatever you do leave his helmet on,” You say looking up at ITE 415.

“Yes, right away your highness” the droid responds.

“Are you crazy?! Do you know how this is going to look to everyone?! You’re sheltering and caring for an enemy! ”

“Make sure he’s okay and the droids don’t take off his helmet-”

“No! I am not helping you with him! I refuse! I am not helping someone who-”

“Please, Oni…”

She looks at you angrily, huffing and shaking her head, storming off.

“Oni!” You yell. 

“My child are you alright?! What’s going on?” You see your father, King Orion rushing down the stairs. He could see all the blood on you, afraid you were injured. He quickly makes his way over to you embracing you with a hug. 

“I’m fine, Father” 

“What happened- is that a Mandalorian? What are they doing here?!” He says eyes widening then glaring as the Medical droids rush by him while transporting The Mandalorian to the medical bay. 

“I came upon him in the forest” you began to tell him. 

“Did they hurt you? Is this your blood? Did they do this to you?! You should go be looked at” he says protectively. 

“No, I’m fine. This is his blood. He was losing so much, he has a terrible gash on his-”

“They shouldn’t be here! Their kind is not welcome! They can not be trusted!” 

Your father says coldly. Your fathers had a strong hatred for Mandalorians. 

“Father!” 

“They need to go!” 

“He needs medical attention! The poor man has been and endured enough!” You argued. There was no way you were letting your father turn The Mandalorian away, he had done nothing wrong. 

“I don’t care! Mandalorians are ruthless killers, vile and callous! We’ve seen it first hand during the Clone Wars! They pillaged our kingdom, hurt so many people, they murdered your mother all when you were a mere child!” 

“He came here to seek refuge, Father. Isn’t that what we do? Shelter people, who are in need of help and keep them safe? How dare you turn away someone who needs help! We never turn away people or beings who are running or escaping from something. That goes against everything we believe, everything Carnelian stands for!” 

“We do not help his kind after what they did. He does not deserve our help! I forbid it!”

“I know there are Mandalorians that caused us pain, but he has done nothing wrong, Father. He is not the one who did those terrible things to our people and kingdom several cycles ago! Can’t you be reasonable? He needs time to heal and get better...we can not deny him that”

He deeply signs. You can see the gears turning in your head, thinking about what you had said. “He can stay until he gets better, but after that, he must leave. I want him gone” With that, he storms off. …

“How is he doing?” You asked ITE 415 as you entered the guest room that The Mandalorian was moved into. You had a tray of food in your hand, setting it on the table beside his bed. It had been a few hours since he came out of surgery. You went to see The Mandalorian in the med bay after your conversation with your father, but there was nothing much you could do other than wait around. You gave the droid's space as they attended to him.

“His vital signs are all good. He had to have a blood transfusion for the loss of blood. His gash was deep, but we stitched him up. He should be able to make a full recovery, but we need to keep him for observation. We informed the doctor, they will check on him when they return tomorrow.”

The Mandalorian was slightly propped up on the bed. His armor was all removed except for his helmet like he requested. His shirt had a huge hole in it, where you can access his wound. It was wrapped up and protected with padding and gauze. 

“Thank you” you appreciate the medical droid's work. 

“Of course your highness. One of us will come in to check up on him in an hour.” With that, you watch the droids make their way out of the room.

“Hey”

You jump, slapping your hand slapping against your chest. You looked over to the bed, noticing The Mandalorian had awakened.

“My stars, you gave me a fright!”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Are you alright?” You asked him how he was feeling.

“Dealt with worse.”

“Worse? You’ve dealt with something worse than bleeding out?” 

He remained silent.

“Um...I brought you some food. Figured you might be hungry. I’m not sure what you like but I got you a whole bunch of things… Hopefully, that’s okay.” 

He looks over at the bedside table noting a pile of food stacked onto a tray.

“Thank you” was all he managed to say. You’d saved his life. If it weren't for you he most likely would have been dead. 

“Sorry about being early.. when I grabbed you. I hope I didn’t hurt you- I didn’t mean-”

“I’m fine...Thank you for apologizing” you smile softly at him.

“What’s your name?”

“I go by Mando…”

“Mando..” You say. You introduce yourself to him again. “I’ll let you be...If you need anything I’ll be a few rooms down”

You leave him alone to rest. Mando… Something about him. You thought about what Lady Uchis said. He couldn’t possibly be the person she was talking about. Further down the line you were going to meet the person she was talking about. It had to be in the distant future. You couldn’t quite pinpoint it yet but you knew Mando would have significance to you. You could feel it.

MT // @wifeofdindjarin @icanbeyourjedi​ @sara-alonso​ @greeneyedblondie44

[brilliant-poses]

The Night of the Coyotes

When Dutch Van Der Linde first began to expand his gang, a group of bounty hunters rose to stop a lot of gangs from becoming too big and powerful. The bounty hunters were a successful group, but the Van Der Linde’s and the O’Driscoll’s kept avoiding the rope. You are apart of the bounty hunting group, the Coyotes. You and your older sister, Pride, have been in the group since you were children. Now, you’re faced with the challenges of hunting down each member. When things get out of hand, do you stay loyal or decide a different life?

Chapter 1 - Pride and Joy

══════════════════

Her grip your hand tightened, pulling you behind her. Your little feet hit the dirt and your tears made it hard to see anything. The moon wasn’t helping either

“Pride, I’m scared!” You cried in your pitiful little voice, causing her to yank you closer.

“Come on, come on! It’s ok… I’m with you, I’m with you!” She said, hearing the sound of yelling behind you two. She covered your ears, not wanting you to hear the horrible sounds of your father screaming after you. There was the sound of a gun going off, the bullet hitting the tree next to them.

“You bitches keep running! I’ll find you! I’ll find you and put a bullet in ya!” He yelled, still firing more bullets. You let out a yell of fear, noticing how she picked you up this time. She ran faster than you, her legs taking her further. She huffed for air, the sound of your father fading in the distance. Pride’s feet continued to hit the dirt hard, not stopping until she saw the lights of Blackwater come into view. You held onto her tightly, the brown shirt she wore was clutched in your little hands. She panted heavily, still hurrying. She couldn’t stop, even when people tried to stop her and see what’s wrong. She hit someone, holding onto you tighter as she fell back.

“Oh! Oh my, are you two alright?” The woman asked, noticing how you and her both laid on the ground. You looked towards the woman, seeing her nice dress and a feathered hat covering her face from the lights.

“Come on, we’ll get you two to a doctor. Brigit! Help me!” The woman called, gently lifting you up. You stared at Pride, watching as she was lifted up by a red haired woman, who cursed at how heavy she was. You started to feel your vision going black and you pass out.

══════════════════

“Wake up, already!” You feel a slap to your face, causing you to jolt.

“I’m up, I’m up…” You mumbled, glancing up from your bedroll to see Pride smoking a cigarette. She took a deep inhale and exhaled after a moment, the smoke flying towards the sky. You lifted yourself up, exhaling with relief. Just a dream… Well, more of a memory. That was years ago, you and Pride were stronger and more resilient than you had been when you were younger. You were currently eighteen and Pride was twenty-three. Escaping from your family home was thirteen years ago, so you were surprised that those memories were coming back. You rubbed your face, standing after a moment. The opened tent was letting the humid air in, the sun was already in the sky.

“You were yelling in your sleep.” She said, exhaling more smoke. She threw it down and stomped it out. You pushed your hair out of your face and glanced up towards your sister, seeing her adjust her hat. Her long black hair was braided and moved against her back, bouncing against the dark blue shirt as she looked down to roll up her sleeves. You popped your neck and adjusted your own shirt, causing the light green material to shake and let dirt fall off of it.

“Had that dream about pa.” You admitted, which made her scoff.

“Stupid bastard… I’ll find his neck broke by the rope one day.” She said and looked towards you. She was taller than you, her build more muscular due to her being your bounty hunter family’s work horse. She was your brawn, while you were her brains. Pride noticed you beginning to get lost in thought, she hit you over the head, causing you to jolt a bit.

“Let’s go see what Vivian wants. The only reason I’m here is to make sure you actually got up to see her.” She said, putting her hand on the back of your neck and helped moved your towards the large tent. Vivian was the woman who saved you and Pride, keeping you safe within her bounty hunter lifestyle. She’s the one who helped shape who you two are.

“Madam.” You greeted, seeing the woman look over from her spot at her desk. She turned back to her mirror to fix her make up, humming as a greeting. The woman was older, probably in her late fifties. She didn’t seem to let that be a hindrance on her. Her chestnut hair was greying in places, like on her temples, but the large scar over her left eye proved her to be more than just a fragile old woman. The scar started above the edge of her eyebrow and ran down to her cheek. Another smaller one cut across the scar on the bottom, getting close to the top of her lip.She still had sight in the eye, but the intimidation she had with the scar didn’t take away from the fact she could still see.

“My, my… It’s Pride and Joy. Good to see you.” She said, using her nickname for you. You smiled softly, shrugging lightly.

“Are you two interested in going out for a information hunt?” She asked, causing you to look at Pride and get excited. You two hadn’t been out of camp in weeks, having to protect everyone and everything you had. After last month in Arizona, it was better that way. Pride was quick to join in, smiling wide and nodding quickly.

“Hell yeah! What information are we gathering?” You grinned, lightly leaning against the tent pole. Vivian stood, her dark brown eyes staring at you and Pride, watching you two as she left the tent. She began to walk towards the edge of the lake, beginning to light a cigarette. You and Pride followed behind her, Pride crossing her arms while your hands rested on your hips. You watched as she took a long drag of her cigarette before exhaling, allowing the smoke to ease into the air.

“Van Der Linde was spotted.” She said, causing Pride to tense a little before shaking it off to listen.

“Now, I know that his little gang is getting stronger, but that matters not. You two are going to find out where they could be.” She said, looking towards you two. You glanced towards Pride, watching her cross her arms.

“Why can’t we just go yelling at night? That scared ‘em last time.” She said, obviously a bit more reluctant to go now that Van Der Linde’s gang was mentioned. Vivian has been after Dutch Van Der Linde since she first brought you two in. You watched a lot of good sisters die from their sharp shooters, especially by Arthur Morgan. Pride and Morgan were like mortal enemies. They were faithful through and through, both could kill one another just to protect their families. You knew if Van Der Linde had been spotted, Morgan wasn’t far behind. For you, there was no enemy. You had no qualms against a certain one except for Dutch, the one who allowed them to kill your sisters whenever they were just doing what was best for everyone. You could tell Pride’s reluctance, especially with you involved. She didn’t like you being around any type of trouble with them. Sure, you had captured and killed men and women before, but never a Van Der Linde gang member. Pride was once the only one left from an encounter with them, her playing dead as the gang ran off. You all had to bury five sisters, which was a lot considering your small family. The Good Lady Vivian Andrew cursed him and swore to bring him in herself, but she needed her little ones to be her eyes. You could see Vivian getting a bit agitated by Pride’s question and reluctance, but she kept a level head.

“Pride… You of all people know how dangerous they are. If you see them, you leave. You just ask people around town, it won’t be that bad. Blackwater is a good place.” She explained, turning to look at them. Pride still looked unconvinced, shaking her head as she tried to pull together why they should avoid any potential contact. You knew this would only run in circles, so you had to do something.

“We’ll go, Madam.” You said quickly, not allowing Pride to argue more. Pride hissed your name in a sort of irritated manor, but she straightened up when Vivian smiled.

“Good… Now, put on your coats and head out. Blackwater isn’t too far, so I suggest you spend as much time there as possible. The shops will be your best bet, especially the butcher.” She informed, tossing the cigarette onto the ground and stomping it out. She began to walk back towards her tent, but stopped.

“Also, ask the others if they need something.” She turned to tell them before going back into her tent, pulling the tent flaps closed so she’d have some privacy. There was silence before Pride spat onto the ground, obviously irritated.

“Go ask around, my ass… If she wasn’t as strong as she was, I’d swing her with her long ass rat hair.” She scoffed, which made you stifle a laugh. Your sister was so dramatic, she’s been that way ever since you were kids. She looked towards her and couldn’t help the chuckle that fell from her lips. She nudged you and motioned for you to follow.

“Come on, we gotta see what the others want.” She said, causing you to nod. You fixed your hair once more, blowing away a small piece that fell in front of your face and hurried after your sister. Thus began the task of figuring out if you had an information hunt or a shopping list to follow.

[imherongraystairstrash]

Hello! I read your fics and I absolutely adored them? Can I request a Thomastair with the prompt “You look awful.” Thank you ❤

Aww, thank you so much!! Just a quick note for context: I wrote this fic after the picture CJ drew of Thomas being tied of in COI. Hope you enjoy!!

THOMAS AND ALASTAIR: YOU LOOK AWFUL

TW: Blood

(not you, lovely readers, that’s just the prompt. You look gorgeous ❤️)

Wind crashed into Thomas’ face as he stumbled into the night. It lifted his hair–which was matted with blood–from his forehead providing pure bliss in such a moment of desperation. The cool breeze encircled his wrists, and relieved the burning from where the soft, sensitive skin was torn due to his struggling against the unbearably tight ropes that had bound him to a chair. 

Air. It had never felt so pleasurable as now, when he could finally breathe it clean. Most of all, it felt like freedom. Thomas took a deep breath, so deep his abdomen hurt from where he had been cut. He held it in and was overtaken by the feeling of euphoria that compassed him when he finally released it. 

Then, someone screamed. 

Thomas woke, sitting up and panting heavily. He winced at the flare of pain that shot up from his side. He braced an arm on the tender area. Where am I? He thought, briefly panicking. 

“Thomas,” said a voice he recognized as his cousin’s. “It’s alright.”

Thomas tried to speak, but his throat was screaming for water. He saw a water jug beside Kit, and could have drunk it straight from the pitcher, had the lavender-eyed boy beside him not procured a cup, filled it and handed it to Thomas. 

Thomas drank deeply and didn’t stop until there was no more water. Kit filled it again and once more before Thomas finally spoke.

“Where are we?”

“Don’t you remember? You freed everybody who was abducted by the murderer. We set up a medical bay so that we can tend to the injured while the Clave investigated the you were being kept in. I wanted to stay to see if you were alright.”

Thomas was touched. Christopher had always felt like a brother; their relationship was different from that of other cousins. For the longest time, they had been the two Lightwood boys. Even when Christopher's blood brother had been born, the two were as close to brothers as they could get. 

“Thank you, Kit.” 

“What are cousins for?” Christopher said with a rueful smile.

…

Thomas spoke with his cousin a while longer, before the latter was summoned to observe some specimen found in the building. 

Thomas waved him away saying that he wanted to go for a walk and get some fresh air anyway. He had been strolling in between tents when he heard someone call his name.

No, not someone. Alastair. Thomas could distinguish his voice even if the voices of thousands others were slamming into his ears. He would always know if Alastair was there. 

He turned around and saw Alastair, jogging up to meet him, his brown hair blowing in the wind. Thomas’ heart lurched. 

He was supposed to be bitter towards Alastair. He was supposed to hate him and throw him in Thames for what he did to his family. He was supposed to hurt him, to pick him up and kiss him—

No. He thought quickly. Why does thinking about Alastair always end with Thomas wanting to kiss him?

Alastair was looking at him, as though waiting for something.

“What?” Thomas asked, having missed what Alastair had said during the feud he had had with his subconscious. 

“I said, ‘You look awful.’”

“Well, I did just wake up from having been held hostage by a psycho murderer.”

“Just be quiet and come back here.” Alastair said, rolling his eyes and pulling out a stele. “Your bleeding.”

Thomas hadn’t realized until he looked down at his wrists. He held one out to Alastair’s outstretched hand.

Thomas felt his breath hitch as Alastair’s warm hand wrapped around his forearm, like he had done long ago, one day in Paris. It felt like ages ago. Alastair drew on his skin, which felt delicate like a butterfly’s wings flapping softly against the cupped hands of a child.  

Alastair’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he worked. Thomas could help but admire how neat the rune was; how it was being drawn meticulously and with infinite care. 

While he was held hostage, he dreamed a lot. He dreamed of the people he loved. He dreamed of his childhood; his mother rocking him to sleep in a rocking chair; hugging and hiding behind his father’s legs because he made him feel safe; watching his sisters put on a play for him when he was too sick to get up. Then, he dreamed of when he was older: running across London’s rooftops with the Merry Thieves; a midnight kiss in Spain; learning Farsi with Lucie; visiting the Louvre with Alastair. 

Lucie had talked him into pardoning Alastair, right before he had been kidnapped. Thomas was stubborn, but while he was tied to that chair all he could think of was Alastair. Not about kissing him but about how blaming him was foolish. He, of all people, knew that sometimes people changed for the better; his father is proof of that. If Will and Gabriel could forgive each other, if Charlotte could forgive Gideon, why couldn’t he forgive Alastair?

Alastair looked up at him at that moment, as though hearing his name through Thomas’ thoughts. They locked eyes. Thomas felt himself drowning in those beautiful dark eyes. He couldn’t breathe. To be fair, it didn’t look like Alastair was breathing much either. It wasn’t due to lack of oxygen; on the contrary, there was too much oxygen between them, and neither knew how to fix that. 

Take initiative, Thomas thought to himself.

“You have blood on your—” Alastair started.

“Be quiet and come over here.” Thomas said hoarsely.

And just like that, from one moment to another, they were kissing. Gloriously kissing. Alastair had obliged Thomas’ request with alacrity. His lips felt soft against Thomas’, to whom were most likely dry from days of dehydration. In that moment, nothing else mattered. It was like the crescendo played in an orchestra. A climax so grand, it could only be ended by a clashing large enough to leave theater in utter silence.     

Suddenly, Alastair tore his lips away, gasping as he looked up at Thomas. They were shining, but not from happiness. 

“I—I must leave.” 

Thomas reached out, but Alastair shook his arm away. 

“Please, Thomas. I need time.”

Thomas felt like he’d been slapped across the face. “Yes, yes of course. Take as much time as you need.”

Alastair pressed his lips together, nodded curtly, and walked away. Every step he took felt like a dagger in Thomas’ heart.

He walked back to where the makeshift hospital was and sat down on the side of a bed. 

…

After the blood had been washed from his hair and his wounds cleaned, Thomas was rewrapping his hands when he heard a familiar voice. 

“Where is my son?!”

Thomas looked up from his bandages. Sophie Lightwood came into the room in a whirl of blue skirts and tendrils of flyaway hair that had escaped it’s chignon. When she turned and caught his eye, he offered her a small smile before she came rushing to where he was sitting. 

“Oh, Thomas. Don’t you ever scare me like that again.” She said, holding him close to her chest. 

A couple of years ago, Thomas might have been slightly annoyed at this display. He definitely would have been embarrassed. Now, however, he let his mother hold him and comb his hair with her fingers. 

“Oh, look at what they did to you.” She said, pulling away and holding his face in both her hands. She stroked his cheek softly with the pad of her thumb. “They even hurt you from the inside.” Her voice cracked.

That was Alastair, he thought. Only people I love can hurt me from the inside.

“I’m alright, mama.” He said, seeing her eyes pool with tears. “Trust me, I’m fine.”

Sophie responded by hugging him again. He closed his eyes floated in the comfort she provided. It would be alright, he thought. Alastair needed time, and perhaps he did as well. Time to stay with his family, who were still grieving Barbara’s death. Time to drink tea and sleep and just exist. He needed to mend his broken heart and help his family do the same. And Alastair had to fix his relationship with his family as well. They both needed to love themselves, before they could love each other. And no matter how long it took, he was confident that they would wait for the other to be ready.

Tagging: 

@hitheresomeoneusingthus @celias @livvyheronstairs @rinadragomir @autumnangel20 @livia-dovehallow @tsccreatorsnet @youngreckless

DM me if you want to be tagged in the future!

[writer1]

A Pirates Mer

Chapter 1

Summary: Anakin is a mer living in a tiny cover, but what happens when a pirate ship arrives? What will he do with his second encounter with hand, the first leaving him with one arm?

A/N: this is a fic I've been thinking about doing for a while, I hope you like it!! ❤️

Warnings: mention of death, angst.

Anakin swims around his cove, he’s lived in this little cove ever since he was a youngling. He’s never left, even after his mother died. Anakin swims lazy circles around the reef, he searches it for some empty shells, or the pretty things that humans always seem to lose. His left arm is used to sift through sand and move rocks and grab things, while his bag is slung over the shoulder of his stump.

His right arm ends just below his elbow, he and his mother had been swimming in open ocean when Anakin’s arm had been caught in a fishing net. His mother had gotten him out just before he would have been hauled into the boat, but his arm was mangled and infected. It had to be amputated, at least that’s what his mother had told him, Anakin was only three at the time, so he doesn’t remember the experience well. Anakin hums as he finds a gold ring with a shiny red rock in it, he drops it into his bag, feeling sadness well up in him. He knows that his mother would have loved it.

His mother had loved collecting the little trinkets and things from humans, and lots of them would wash up in the little cove, getting stuck in the reef, or washing up on land. She even found a little box with a human figure in it, she had told him that when they are working, it could play beautiful music. But it was broken, even when dried out, it never uttered a peep.

Anakin had tried to fix it once, he even went up on land, but it was no use. There were too many missing parts, he still looks for more pieces to try to fix it though, even now. Anakin has never seen an actual human before, but his mother has, she even befriended one. But others found out about her and she had to swim as far away as possible.

He sighs, he misses his mother, she passed away about two years ago. She had been sick, and nothing Anakin could do would help her. He pushes the memory away, he would much rather think of happy memories of his mother, that's what she would have wanted.

Anakin swims down to the sandbed, his brilliant aqua colored tail shining in the sun, he lays down and spreads out, feeling the sun warm him. He’s in the mood for a sunny nap at the moment, he closes his eyes, letting the sounds of the ocean lull him to sleep.

xxx

Anakin’s eyes open slowly as he shivers, the sun is gone. He blinks in confusion, he wasn’t napping that long, was he? Anakin looks up to see a large dark shape above him. A ship. Anakin eyes widen considerably and his mouth gapes open.

This is the first time Anakin has seen a ship in his cove. Yes, he has seen many go by, but never have they come in. He swims up to it, there's a long rope with a metal thing attached to the end of it, it’s sitting at the bottom of the cove, Anakin doesn’t remember what it’s called. He hears a splash, and then there's two smaller boats in the water, heading to shore.

Anakin can hear laughter and cheers coming from it and he smiles, now that the humans are gone he can take a closer look at this ship! Anakin swims up, popping his head out of the water and looking up, the sails are unmarked, his mother told him what that usually means. Pirates.

He hums as he slowly swims around the ship, he loves it!. Anakin wishes that he could get on and see what it looks like up there, but that’s impossible.

“Hey!!!” Anakin is pulled out of his thoughts by yelling, he turns to see a blond haired man staring at him from the beach, along with about 9 others. “Do you need help!? Where did you come from!?” Anakin feels fear grip him as he dives down, the last thing he hears is a gasp from the human’s. They must have seen his tail.

xxx

Rex can’t believe his eyes, he just saw a mermaid. He turns to his brother’s and sister. “You guys saw that too, right?” They all nod, and Rex sighs. He’s heard the stories, he’s a pirate captain after all, but he never believed them until now.

“He l-looked s-s-scared.” Rex turns to Stutter, he’s the youngest out of his brother’s at 16. “Yeah, I saw it too, he looked afraid of us.” Fives agree’s and Rex nods, the look of terror in the mer’s face was sad. When they had first seen the man, they had thought he was a shipwrecked sailor or something, but the beautiful aqua tail had proved otherwise.

“We’ll keep an eye out for him, maybe apologize for scaring him. It seemed like he was only admiring our ship.” Everyone else nods, and Rex’s older brother, Cody, walks over, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Good thinking Rex, for now let’s do some relaxing, it’s been quite a while since we last stopped at land.” Rex nods, following Cody as he walks towards the ocean again, his other brother’s following. He hopes to see the mer again, Rex really does feel bad for scaring him.

xxx

Anakin lays in his little underwater cave, it’s been about a day since the human’s saw him, and he doesn’t know what to do. He's terrified that they’ll try to hurt him, but he’s also curious. They looked so interesting, Anakin’s pretty sure that they’re all related, since they looked quite alike. And maybe they could help fix the music box?

Anakin huffs, he feels so conflicted. He can’t decide on what to do, he knows that they could be dangerous, but his mother met a nice human once, they can’t all be bad, right? Anakin sits up, he’s decided that a quick look at the human’s won’t hurt. He won’t speak to them or let them see him, but he will get to see what they are like.

He swims out of his cave, bringing his bag since the pirates might have dropped something off of their ship, maybe. He immediately see’s the pirate ship above him, since his cave is close to it.

Anakin quickly swims up, as soon as his head is out of the water he hears laughing coming from the beach. He goes under and darts to a rock that’s close to the beach, he can feel the sandy bottom scraping his tail, but he does have a good view of the pirates from here.

Anakin peeks out from behind the rock, watching the pirates. They do sort of look alike, but they’re also different. One has blond hair, he’s the one who yelled at him, the one next to him has brown hair and a scar on the corner of his forehead, curling around his eye and forehead.

The third has a marking on the corner of his forehead, Anakin has no idea what it means. The one next to him has a blue handprint on his weird thing on his body, all of them have the weird things.

Another one has a bald head and a giant cog looking marking on his head while the one next to him has hair like the other three besides the blond, and has a little bit of a marking peeking out of the hair on the side of his head. Another one has a scar over one of his eyes, and he’s sitting next to one with a shaved head, just not as shaved as the blondes.

And the last two are younger, one is a teenager, he has what looks like splatters of color on his shirt. The other is a young girl, with dark skin and what looks like birthmarks on her cheeks and forehead.

Anakin continues watching them as they laugh and joke with eachother, until one of them, the one with the handprint, see’s him. “Hey, the mer’s back!” Everyone turns to see Anakin duck down behind the rock, he chirps quietly as he hears them discussing things together. He doesn’t leave, they don’t seem mean, or cruel.

“Hello?” Anakin hears the voice, peeking his head back up. All the pirates are looking at him, they’ve come closer, all knee deep in the water. “H-Hello.” Anakin stutter’s out timidly, peeking out a little more. Rex smiles kindly, trying to seem less scary, Anakin chirps a little nervously, making the pirates look at him questioningly. “I’m Rex and these are my brother’s and sister, we’re sorry for scaring you yesterday. We didn’t mean to.”

Anakin squints his eyes at Rex, then gestures to the other’s. “What are their names?” Rex smiles, then he starts gesturing to each of his brother’s. “This is my older brother Cody, the two right next to him are the twins, Fives and Echo.” Rex gestures to the one with the scar curling around his eye, then the one with the small marking on his forehead, and lastly the one with the hand print, Anakin hums as he watches.

Rex then moves towards more of his brothers once he’s sure that the mer understands. “These two are Jesse and our doctor, Kix.” Rex gestures to the one with the cog marking, and then too the one with the little bit of a marking sticking out. “The grumpy one with the scar over his eye is Wolffe, while the man beside him is Gregor. Then last is our youngest two, Stutter and Ahsoka.”

Everyone chuckles at what Rex says about Wolffe, Anakin finds all their names interesting, he chirps happily. He still stays against the rock, eying them nervously, he doesn’t trust them yet. “Hello, I’m Anakin.”

The one with the scar around his eye steps forward. "Well, it's very nice to meet you Anakin. As Rex told you, I'm Cody. We hope to get to know you while we're here." Anakin nods, then he swims out slowly from where he was hiding. All the pirates stare at his tail, they think that it's beautiful, but Rex is the most memorized by it.

“You won’t try to capture me, right?” Everyone’s eyes widen, and they shake their heads, “Of course not, I’m the Captain of my crew and brothers. I give you my word that no one is going to capture you, Anakin.” Anakin nods, believing every word Rex says. He likes this human, he likes all of these humans, but especially Rex. “Thank you.”

Rex smiles at Anakin. “We were just about to have lunch, would you like to eat with us?” Anakin smiles, nodding and following the crew up to the beach, he pulls himself up, sitting beside Rex. he notices that the Captain’s face changes color, Anakin never knew that humans could do that!

xxx

Rex watches as Anakin eats the fruits they brought, the merman had never had them before. Anakin has probably never had any human food before. He seems to be okay out of the water, as long as he drinks a lot of it while he’s out. The rest of Rex’s family had went back to the ship to get some rest from the heat of the sun, leaving Rex alone with Anakin. Rex smiles as Anakin nudges him, the Merman points to an apple core.

“Do you have more of that? I like it.” Rex chuckles, grabbing another apple from beside him and handing it over to Anakin. The Merman bites right into it, chirping with happiness, making Rex smile. Rex doesn't know why but he loves the sound of Anakin's chirps. Rex then decides to ask a question that had been bothering him and the crew, but they were to polite to ask. “What… what happened to your arm Anakin.” Anakin freezes as he looks up at Rex, he thinks for a minute before he whispers-- “Humans.” Rex freezes as he looks at Anakin sadly. “I… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, not your fault. You are a good human.” Anakin smiles comfortingly at Rex as he rubs his stub. Rex smiles back then glances down at Anakin’s tail. “Your tail is very beautiful Anakin, may I… may I feel it?”

Anakin freezes for a minute, he eyes Rex nervously and the pirate captain thinks that he may have overstepped a boundary when Anakin offers his tail out. “Just be gentle, please. The scales are kind of sensitive.” Rex nods seriously, then he gently takes Anakin’s tail in his lap and strokes it gently. It feels a little dry from being out of the water, but it doesn’t have the slimy, sticky mucus that most fish possess. The only thing about it that feels even remotely like a fish are the scales.

“Should it be this dry?” Anakin looks up at Rex, then he lays on his back and reaches out, feeling his tail. “No, it’s not supposed to be. I should get back in the water, and you should probably get out of the sun too.” Rex nods sadly, he likes talking to Anakin. “Okay, I’ll talk to you later?” Anakin gives Rex a smile, then a nod.

“I’ll come back up and visit tomorrow, same time?” Rex nods, and with that Anakin jumps back into the water, he gives Rex one last wave before he dives down. Rex stands up and get’s into the one boat left and he rows back to his ship, excited to see the merman again tomorrow.

xxx

Rex is in love. And he is in love with a kriffing mermaid. Rex and his crew have been docked near the little island for about a week now, and Anakin has visited them almost every day. Rex had denied it at first, telling himself that he only cared for the mer as a friend. It took Cody having a talk with him to make him realize that what he was feeling was love.

Rex doesn’t know what to do, Cody had told him that he should confess to Anakin, but Rex doesn’t want to ruin their friendship. All of his siblings know, and they’ve all been trying to give him advice. He sighs heavily into his hands as he lays on his bed, he has no idea what to do.

Rex turns over in his bed and tries to fall asleep, he hopes to come up with a solution in the morning.

xxx

Anakin swims around his little cave in thought, he’s trying to figure out what he should do. Today he had figured out that he had fallen for Rex, the human. Anakin wants to tell him, he really does. But he doesn’t want Rex to be disgusted with him. Anakin isn’t human, he can’t walk or play on land like Rex and his family can.

He fears that Rex may leave as soon as he finds out, he doesn’t want to lose his human. Anakin has come to love Rex’s family as his own as well, Cody, Gregor and Wolffe are like older brother’s. While Stutter and Ahsoka are like younger siblings to him. Although Jesse, Kix, Echo and Fives are kind of a mix of the two. But also the best friends Anakin could have. He doesn’t want any of them to leave, he doesn’t want to be alone again.

Anakin wishes that his mother was here, she would have given him some advice that would help, or she would have held him close and told him that everything would work itself out. He lies down in his bed and closes his eyes, at that moment he decides that he’s going to tell Rex how he feels, no matter the consequences.

xxx

Everyone is having some fun, they swim around in the water and take turns swimming with Anakin. It was a little game started by the younger two, Ahsoka and Stutter, but soon enough everyone wanted a turn, and Anakin was happy to oblige. At the moment he’s swimming Jesse around underwater, he keeps an eye out for a tap on his shoulder, that is the signal that Jesse needs air. As soon as Anakin feels it he swims up to the surface, allowing for Jesse to get some air.

“That never gets old!! You can swim so fast Anakin.” Jesse laughs as he swims away from Anakin, who whistles happily. “Thanks Jesse. But I think that I need a little break now, I’m getting kind of tired.” Jesse nods. “Of course, why don’t you go rest up on the beach with Rex? I’m sure that he would love the company.” Anakin nods with a smile, then swims off towards the beach. Rex is sitting with his feet a little in the water, he smiles when Anakin swims up.

“Hey Anakin, you here for a rest too?” Anakin nods, then pulls himself up onto the beach beside Rex. They sit in silence for a few minutes, enjoying eachother’s company. Then Anakin frowns, he wants to tell Rex now, this might be the only time he’ll have the nerve to. “Rex? Can I tell you something?” Rex glances at Anakin, face full of confusion. “Yeah, of course you can. What is it?”

Anakin frowns, he’s so scared that Rex will hate him. “Promise me that if I tell you, you won't hate me.” Rex gapes at Anakin. “Anakin!! I will never hate you, I promise.” Anakin sighs, swallowing thickly. “I…” Anakin sighs, he can’t stop the fear from stopping him from speaking. “Anakin? What is i-!!” Anakin quickly presses his lips against Rex’s in a soft, delicate kiss. Rex’s eyes widen, then drift softly closed as he sighs with content. After a few seconds Anakin pulls away, then he looks down and closes his eyes. He waits for Rex to yell, scream or push him away with disgust but it never happens.

What does happen is Rex softly places his hand under Anakin’s chin and lifts his face up gently to face him, the look of disgust that Anakin was expecting is replaced by Rex’s gaze filled with so much love and comfort. “I love you, Anakin. I love you more than anything.” Rex presses his lips to Anakin’s, making the mer’s heart skip a beat. They both pull away again when they hear yells and hoots from Rex’s brother’s and sister, Rex turns to see Fives yell- “Took you two long enough.”

Rex is about to jump up when Anakin throws himself into Rex’s arms, making the captain laugh. “I love you, Rex!!!” Anakin yells out, making Rex laugh and press a kiss to his forehead softly. “I love you too, Ani.”

xxx

Rex and Anakin lay on the beach, Anakin is on top of Rex, his head is cushioned on his human’s chest. It’s been two days since they had confessed their feelings for eachother, and everything has been going well until today. Rex frowns, Cody and Rex had both taken stock of supplies, and they were definitely getting way too low. Which means that they are going to have to leave the little cove soon to grab some supplies, and take on a few delivery jobs to make some money.

Rex knows that it would be too hard for Anakn to come with them, they would have to stop every day at least once for Anakin to jump in the water. And they would have to hide him from anyone that may hurt him. Rex and his family would gladly do all this for Anakin, but they run the risk of him drying out or getting found, and it may be too hard on the merman to be away from the place that he grew up, away from his mother’s treasures.

Rex knows that he’s going to have to tell Anakin, and now is as good a time as any. “Anakin?” Anakin looks up at Rex with a smile, he sits up and presses a kiss to Rex’s soft lips. “Yeah, Rex, is something wrong?” Anakin caresses Rex’s cheek, he doesn’t like seeing a frown on his human’s face. Rex sighs. “Anakin, My brother’s, sister and I… We have to leave.” Anakin’s eyes widen as tears fill them, breaking Rex’s heart in two.

“Why? Did I do something wrong? Is it because I’m not human?” Rex’s eyes widen as he pulls Anakin against him softly, but firmly. “No, I promise. That’s not it, I wouldn’t want you to change for the world, Ani. We’re running out of supplies and money, we just have to go buy some more and get a few jobs, then we’ll be back.” Anakin whines sadly as Rex softly kisses his tears away. “Can’t I come with you?” Rex sighs sadly as he gently pets Anakin’s tail. “I’m sorry Anakin, but it’s too risky. You could dry out, or someone could find out about you. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you, neither would my brother’s and sister.” Anakin nods tearfully, and Rex gently kisses his temple. “We won’t be gone for long, only two to three months. And we were running low already when we got here, so we will be here longer than a week when we return, okay.”

Anakin looks up at Rex. “When are you leaving?” Rex sighs. “Tomorrow.” Anakin hugs Rex close with his one arm, nuzzling into what he now knows is his shirt. “Promise me you’ll come back.” Rex presses his forehead against Anakin’s. “I promise, Cyare. Nothing will keep me away from you.” Rex gently kisses Anakin’s lips softly, running his hand through Anakin’s hair as he does. Neither of them want this night to end, knowing tomorrow they would be separated.

xxx

Anakin sits on the beach as he waves to the leaving ship, everyone is on board waving to him as well. Rex and his brothers and sister said that they’d be back in about three months at most, and Anakin hopes that they’re right. Anakin keeps waving until the ship disappears over the horizon, then he dives down to his cave below. He knows that Rex will return, he trusts his human to come back to him.

Anakin hugs the shirt that he’s wearing close to him, Rex had given him two of his shirts to wear while he was gone. One is the one Anakin is wearing and the other is being kept on shore. Anakin wants the other to continue smelling like his human, his Rex. who will return in only a few months time.

xxx

The pirate captain smirks as he watches the other ship leave, leaving the merman waving. His ship is hidden behind some rocks across the cove, he watches as the merman dives beneath the waves, him and his crew are going to make so much money when they capture the young mer.

Taglist: @ahsokatano-thetogruta @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @lightning-wolffe @barissoffee

[sunshinelikesavatar]

Here We Are

In which Zuko crashes a ship, ends up very far from home, and meets a Water Tribe woman and her firebending son.

AO3 Link

Lightning blinded Zuko as he scrambled across the small deck of his ship, desperately trying to tie everything down. It would have been hard enough with the storm raging (seemingly out of nowhere), tossing his ship around and threatening to send him to the bottom of the sea, but now—now—

He wished his uncle were here. He wished he was far from this ship, curled up with a scroll as he listened to a storm rage outside, dry and warm. That his mother was alive, that his father wasn’t cruel and callous, that his country wasn’t fighting a pointless war—that he could secure his belongings before he lost them to the waves that crashed over the deck—

The rope that tied him to the ship had saved him at least twice already, and as his feet were swept out from under him again, he clung to it as he was thrown against the mast. He gasped as the breath was knocked out of him and desperately tried to stand. Another wave filled his mouth with saltwater and he coughed and hacked and tried to brace himself against the wood behind him. As the ship tilted, though, he lost his footing and crashed to the ground, clipping his temple on something as he went down.

His last thought before unconsciousness took him was somewhat nonsensical, all things considered:

I hope the tea set doesn’t break.

-

With a sigh, Zuko nuzzled down into the pillow. What a strange dream that had been, so violent. It felt so real, though. His body hurt and ached like he’d really been thrown around in a storm, and his throat even felt raw, like he’d been coughing up water.

Which is when he started coughing, coughing until the muscles of his chest were spasming and involuntary tears from the pain were leaking down his cheeks and sparks flew between his teeth. Trying to stand to get a drink or something didn’t work—he got as far as kneeling before he had to curl forward, forehead pressed into the pillow. He wondered if he’d die like this, alone and hacking out a lung.

A cool hand rested on his shoulder, incredibly soothing. As it moved, rubbing up and down his back, the urge to cough subsided. That hand should have frightened him, but he was so relieved and distracted from his diaphragm no longer attempting to eject itself from his body that he just focused on breathing, gasping in deep gulps of air.

Exhausted and realizing that he had no idea what was going on, he turned his face on the pillow to blearily blink up at the person kneeling next to him with his good eye. There was a fire lit behind them, though, leaving him only with a person-shaped silhouette. They had been kind, though—this was obviously not his room nor his cabin on the ship, and he was laid out on something comfortable. Warm and dry and not clinging to rope hoping the sea wouldn’t swallow him whole.

He tried to say thank you, but all that came out was a hum. The cool hand on his back moved up to his face, brushing back his hair. “Do you want water?” a woman’s voice asked him and he managed a nod. It took a bit of effort, but between the two of them they managed to get him sitting back on his feet as a cup of cold water was held to his lips.

It was not any easier to see the face of the woman helping him, but he supposed it didn’t matter too much. He cleared his throat, wincing at the burn of it, and rasped out, “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

His eyes fluttered shut as he reveled in the ease of his breaths before shifting around to lay down again, bracing himself with his arm as he went. Curling into the warmth of—were they furs? It felt like furs, soft and fluffy—he told himself he would just rest a little while, just for a few minutes.

-

Katara watched the man as he slept, considering his face.

He was much more relaxed than he had been when she rescued him from the crashed remains of his boat. She was glad he’d woken up for a little bit to cough the water out of his lungs, even if it had left him crying (and breathing out sparks, and hadn’t that been a surprise?). Gently, she brushed her thumb against his unscarred cheek, wiping the tears away.

This was not a circumstance she could have foreseen. The only Fire Nation ships that came down to the South Pole were navy ships, armed and threatening if not outright invading. This man’s boat had been much smaller, made of wood and not metal. The broken boxes of supplies showed only the normal things one would expect to see on a personal boat: food, clothes (no armor), some trinkets and weapons, an oddly extensive collection of play scrolls, and a carefully packed tea set.

She had sent Kallik to gather up all the things he could and leave them just outside their hut so he wouldn’t disturb the man’s rest. In this particular case, she thought with a frown, perhaps it was for the best that her hut was on the outskirts of the village.

Because it was indeed a Fire Nation man currently sprawled on her bedding, a firebender, nuzzling cutely into the pillow. Pale skin and black hair could be Earth Kingdom or Fire Nation, but those brilliant gold eyes only came from one archipelago, and it wasn’t like earthbenders went around spitting sparks. So here he was, a Fire Nation man, horribly scarred and burned but born of fire nonetheless. The other villagers would not have dragged his limp form from the wreckage to save him, would not have healed his obvious head wound with waterbending or given him comfort as he cleared his lungs, but she had the beginnings of a very, very stupid plan stirring in her mind, and it required the cooperation of a Fire Nation man such as this.

Satisfied that he would rest easy, she turned her attention to his clothes drying by the fire. They were nicely made and no doubt the thin and light fabric was practical near the equator, but the weather further south required wools and furs. Shaking her head, she pulled out an old parka that had recently been given to her from one of the kinder grandmothers of the village and started to mend the obvious problems. If her plan was to work, this man would need a parka, sturdy boots, thicker pants and tunics—all the necessities, really. Even if all signs pointed to him not trying to end up here in the first place.

It was a while before Kallik poked his head through the door and grinned at her before turning his gaze to the sleeping man. He tiptoed over to her and settled by her side. “I got all the stuff I could and put it in the boxes by the door, like you said,” he whispered. “But Mom, who is he?”

She smiled at his impatience, smoothing a hand over his black hair and kissing his forehead. “It’s a surprise, sweetie.”

Kallik rolled his golden eyes and flopped against her. “Ugh, mom, I’m seven now. I’m too old for surprises!”

“Now that is just completely untrue.” She held the fur of the parka a little closer and pursed her lips. She’d probably need to patch the next tear…she set it aside for now, though. “Come on, help me with the bigger things in the wreckage and let him sleep.” Kallik pouted but followed her out.

-

The next time Zuko woke up, he was feeling much more alert. He could feel the sun’s energy zipping through his blood, high in the sky, calling him to wake and move and get on with the day.

A woman sat by the fire, stirring a pot of something. She turned to him as he pushed himself to a sitting position and smiled. “Hello,” she said, her voice kind and open. “Are you feeling hungry?”

To say he was confused would be to understate the situation. She was...Water Tribe. Very obviously Water Tribe, with dark skin and hair, bright blue eyes, and blue-dyed clothes that looked to be made of thick wool. The hut they were in was lined with hides, with Water Tribe decorations and stylings. And as far as he was aware, people of the Water Tribe didn’t exactly get along with the people of the Fire Nation.

His uncle had told him before to never look a gift ostrich-horse in the mouth, though, so he merely nodded and took the bowl of stew and hunk of bread she passed him. It may have been the effect of surviving the worst storm of his life (he was pretty sure that hadn’t been a dream), but the food was absolutely delicious and he did his best to eat every drop, balancing the bowl on his legs as he used the bread to sop up the soup.

She let him eat in silence, putting a lid on the pot and pulling out some sewing. He watched her work, apparently unconcerned with the strange man sitting no more than four feet away. She was patching the knees of a small pair of pants and making tiny, precise stitches with a smile on her face. When he finished, putting his bowl on the ground by the fire, she put aside her sewing and turned to face him.

“My name is Katara,” she started. “You’re in one of the Southern Water Tribe villages at the South Pole.”

He couldn’t help the incredulous “What?” that burst out of him. What was he doing so far south? Had the storm really blown him so far?

She bit her lip and continued, “Also, your ship is completely wrecked.”

Dismayed, Zuko spluttered. That ship...that ship had taken up all his savings for the past six years to buy, and the first time he took it out for more than a day, he wrecked it?

“No one here knows how to fix a boat like yours,” she was saying, “So even if it wasn’t just firewood at this point, you probably couldn’t leave in it.”

He couldn’t help the slump of his shoulders. This had been his great escape, his plan to start a new life far from his father and sister. A truly inauspicious beginning, he thought with a scowl.

The woman, Katara, got to her feet and brushed off her tunic. “I have a canoe, though, and could take you to a nearby island if you wanted.” And he was baffled by her generosity, to do so much to help a stranger from a nation at war with hers. Before he could thank her, though, she said, “But I do have an alternative proposition for you.”

He leaned back, narrowing his eyes at her. It had been too good to be true after all.

Holding her hands out to the sides, she simply said, “You could stay here.”

And that was...not what he had expected. He cleared his throat, sure he’d misunderstood. “I beg your pardon?”

She sighed and pulled her braid over her shoulder to tug at it. “I’ll be honest, I’m not sure how to sell this to you. To make a long story short—”

Which is when the door to the hut burst open. Years of instinct had him jumping to his feet, arms in ready position. He let them drop as he saw it was a child. “Mom, Mom, Mom, I figured it out, you have to see what I did, I—” The child—a boy—turned to him with—

Golden eyes.

Oh.

He felt a bit sick. He wondered if his conclusions were hasty, though. Maybe...maybe she had happily married a Fire Nation man, who just happened to be out on a trip or something. During a war. In which he knew that there had been several raids on the Southern Water Tribe around the time of this boy’s likely birth date.

Katara’s smile was warm, her eyes crinkling at the edges as she steadied her son from his rush inside. “Kallik, I told you, play outside until I call for you.”

That seemed to startle the boy out of staring at him (at his face, at his arm, and people always seemed to stare) with wide eyes. “Oh! But Mom, I had to show you right away—” He held out his palms, cupped together, and furrowed his brow. A tiny flame popped into existence above his hands. It was, objectively speaking, a sad and flickering little thing, nearly entirely red with lack of heat and threatening to go out with each puff of air as the boy said, “Look, I figured it out! I made it on purpose!”

Which implied that there wasn’t a firebender around to teach him the most basic of firebending skills, such as, say, a loving father figure.

And Katara smiled and hugged her firebending son, kissing his hair. “Sweetie, great job! I knew you could do it! You’ve been practicing so hard. I’m so proud of you.” The boy beamed bright as a sunbeam. Then she laughed and gently pushed the boy out of the hut. “But I was serious about you playing outside! We’ve got some boring grown-up things to talk about.” Kallik groaned and whined but made his way out the door.

It was pretty easy to fit together the few pieces he had. He’d heard about this sort of thing, of soldiers who had so little honor that they would...would…Swallowing (his throat still hurt but he tried to ignore it), he looked at Katara again.

She shrugged and gave him a small smile. “Well, um, that’s my son. He’s...he’s just turned seven and he started...well, firebending.” Biting her lip, she looked towards the door. “There have been a few accidents recently. Nothing deadly or anything, but he gets so excited, and, well…” Here she mimed an expanding fire. “You know.”

He did know. It was something every new little firebender had to learn to deal with, how to temper the flame in your heart so it didn’t burn the world around you. Usually, there were family members, neighbors, teachers, friends, all sorts of people to support them.

Not here, though.

“I’m not...there’s no one here to help him. And I do want to help him, but I don’t know how.”

He almost asked about the boy’s father before he decided that was a terrible ideaand he should not ever bring that up ever, what’s wrong with me? “And you think I could?”

She wiggled her hand in a so-so kind of way. “If you were just here as a teacher, that would be easiest, but the village would hardly accept that. They almost turned me away just because of Kallik.”

Which also implied that this was not her home village, which meant she had either run away, been sent away, or her family was dead and she was alone. All of those options were heartbreaking.

“But...they don’t know the circumstances of Kallik’s, um...of Kallik.” Her face started flushing as she continued, “If I could pass you off as, um, my h-husband, only just able to join us here, that would p-probably work.”

There was already one glaring hole in the plan, though. “Most firebending teachers have both arms,” he managed to get out, turning his gaze to the central fire pit. As it often did whenever it came up, the space where his left arm had once been felt overly conspicuous.

Her hands were wrapped tightly around her braid now as she steadfastly focused on something on the floor. “That might actually, uh, help. You wouldn’t seem as...threatening, that way. And I don’t mean for you to teach him to fight, just to help him control his bending.”

He wondered how he would have reacted to that as a teenager, angry and desperate to prove himself to a father that didn’t care, that he didn’t seem threatening to a village of peasants. And he tried to remember and hold on to his uncle’s words of support, that losing an arm didn’t make him less of a man or a firebender, no matter what people thought. He took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind. “So you want me to live here with you? Pretend to be your husband while I teach your son?” And was he actually considering this as a serious possibility? He hadn’t really had a plan besides “leave the Fire Nation,” after all.

“It sounds so dumb when you put it like that,” she muttered, “but yes, basically.”

And wow, there must be something fundamentally wrong with him as a person, because he didn’t even think before saying, “And it won’t bother you to have a...a Fire Nation man around all the time? With...with how Kallik, um…” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Actually, he was fairly sure he should just burn up into ashes on the spot for bringing up the thing that was probably the most traumatic experience of this woman’s life.

Katara was looking at him with eyebrows scrunched together before she gasped and her eyebrows flew up. “Oh! Oh, um, no, that’s...ugh. I’m just so used to talking around it.” She took a deep breath. “Kallik isn’t my biological son. His, uh, real mom, she saw his eyes and decided she didn’t want him. I don’t blame her for that, the situation was terrible. I was supposed to...I don’t know, I don’t really want to think about it. But I...I couldn’t just...leavehim somewhere, and I knew no one in my tribe would want anything to do with raising him after everything, so I...left, I guess. Just sorta packed up and…” She gestured around them at the hut. “Here we are.”

Here she was. A woman who’d left her home and family to raise a son that she hadn’t birthed, a son that had Fire Nation blood singing in his veins.

“That’s what moms do,” he heard his mother say, softly laughing by a pond of baby turtleducklings.

“I think of you as my own,” he heard his uncle say, his hand warm and heavy and comforting on his shoulder.

He cleared his throat. “Can I think about it?” Because yes, he would actually be considering this as a life path. “Maybe take a walk or something?”

Katara bit her lip and moved to one of the chests lining the walls, opening it and rummaging around. “I would like to say yes, absolutely, but people are going to ask who you are as soon as you or I go outside. I’d rather have the story straight right from the start, whether you’re my, um, my husband or just a stranded sailor or something.”

Which made sense. So instead of standing in the sun like he wanted to, he sat next to the fire and stared into the coals. And then he thought and thought and thought.

-

Katara was almost giddy. He was considering it! He was considering her sort-of silly plan to teach Kallik firebending!

As she sorted through clothes, putting together a pile for the man—

Oh, wait. “I’m so sorry, but I didn’t catch your name.”

The man blinked up at her, startled. “Hm? Oh, my name.” He sighed. “Okay, I’m going to be honest with you too. Just so, you know, no misunderstandings.”

Her stomach started to sink. Was he a criminal or something? Her hand went to the lid of her waterskin, ready to pull out water to defend herself. She hardly knew this man, what had she been thinking?

“I’m running from my family. My dad, he, uh, he did...this.” He gestured to his whole left side and Katara had to swallow back bile. “But he’s been pretty clear that as long as I don’t draw attention to myself or try to mess with anything about the war, he’ll let me...you know, live. So I can’t use my real name.”

She almost asked who his father was before thinking better of it. A powerful (terribly, horribly powerful) bender, apparently connected with the war—likely a general. The “who” didn’t matter so much. Instead, she nodded. “That makes sense. Do you have a name in mind?”

The still-nameless man groaned and rubbed his face. “Maybe Li? There’s a million Li’s…”

Katara laughed. “Well, you might as well pick a name you like. Do you like ‘Li’?”

His grumpy glare very clearly said ‘no.’ He sighed and let his eyes wander around the hut, long fingers tapping on his knee. “How about...Kuzon. Yeah, that’ll work.” He met her eyes and bowed with fist held in front of him. “My name is Kuzon.”

Feeling a bit like she was playing a game, she bowed as well, hands braced against her thighs in Water Tribe fashion. “A pleasure to meet you, Kuzon.”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a smile before he returned to staring at the fire.

At length, after she had straightened up most of the hut and started the non-essential mending, he groaned and twisted around, cracking his neck and stretching. He was like a seal-cat stretching in the sun, she thought with a grin.

With a gusty sigh, he turned to her. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

She blinked in surprise. “You will?”

Nodding, Kuzon got to his feet. “Yeah. I didn’t really have much of a plan besides ‘get away from my psycho family’ to start with anyways, and I like kids. I wouldn’t mind helping you and Kallik out here for a while.”

Certain her grin was a bit too gleeful, she bowed in thanks. “Thank you! And once Kallik has been trained, I’ll help you get wherever you’d like to go, okay?”

He bowed as well. “Sounds like a plan.”

Leaping to her feet, she grabbed Kuzon’s hand and ran out the door. “Let’s go tell Kallik the good news!” She heard an incredulous laugh from behind her, but he ran with her.

They found him on the rocky beach by the wreckage of the ship. “Kallik!” she called, waving him over. “Kallik, I want you to meet Kuzon, he’s—”

Three figures came around the side of the wreck, other villagers. Katara felt her words catch in her throat as she saw their eyes watching with interest. Whatever she said would certainly spread like wildfire throughout their little village. And she realized, as she felt the warmth of Kuzon’s hand still in hers, that she hadn’t really thought this all through.”

“Um, he’s...he’s your f-father.”

[artificialqueens]

Ever in Your Favor, Chapter One (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: For the 75th Hunger Games, tributes will be chosen from each district's living victors.

Denali and Rosé, two women with a shared past, are the only living victors for District 12. They’ll grow a lot closer than they planned in their effort to survive.

A/N: Bringing my love of fantasy AUs to Rosnali! It's been a while since I've done a multi-chap, but I'm excited for this one! You can probably read this without knowing the books/movies, but it's helpful if you look up the basics if you're confused. There will be blood, violence, and injury throughout, but nothing more graphic than the books/movies.

Thank you so, so much to Writ for supporting this idea and helping me with it, and FaceTiming me to scream with your reaction. I love you <3

I really hope you enjoy, and please leave feedback if you like!

Read on AO3.

The blood is everywhere.

It stains the grass, trickles down Rosé’s pants, burns in her nose. It’s sticky on the side of her face. It pours from the fresh gash across her shoulder. It’s caked under her nails. It soaks the bodies on the ground.

The bodies.

One is still clinging to life, wheezing through the hole in his chest.

Rosé made that hole.

Rosé waits, not releasing her blood-soaked grip on her blood-soaked sword, until he gives one last wheeze and the cannon goes off, announcing her as winner of the 59th Hunger Games--

“Rosie, wake up. You’re having a nightmare again.”

Rosé shoots upright in bed, soaked with new sweat and old blood.

“It’s just us here. You’re safe.”

It’s her sisters in front of her, just her sisters. No bodies. No blood. No sword in her clenched fist. She sucks in a deep breath as her sisters watch in worry.

Rosé’s the only one who officially lives in the Victor’s Village house, but more often than not, Jan or Lagoona or both will come over for dinner and occasionally stay the night with her. She knows it’s mostly because they love her and want to, but it’s partly so they can make sure she eats and sleeps. She was the one who taught them to braid hair and jump rope, who used to check for monsters under their beds, and now they have to watch her eat and put her to bed and tug her out of nightmares. But Rosé doesn’t even care, because she loves her sisters more than anything and it feels so normal to have them around. She’s able to laugh and smile and forget, and she just pretends not to see the concerned looks her sisters exchange on her behalf.

They both stayed tonight, because they know what tomorrow is.

Rosé nods as she comes back to herself, holding back the apology on her lips because she knows they’ll just brush it off.

“Are you okay to go back to sleep?” Jan asks.

Rosé shrugs. If she looks at her hands too long, blood stains appear, but that’s not something she wants to worry them about. She hates still having the dreams, clear as if they happened an hour ago, not sixteen years ago. Plus it’s almost four, and she needs to be up in a few hours anyway--

“Let’s make cookies,” Lagoona says, coming to the same conclusion.

It’s what they did as kids, helping their parents with the bakery after school and on weekends. They’d line up at the counter, and Rosé would cream the butter and sugar, Lagoona would add the rest of the ingredients, and Jan would scoop the dough on the baking trays. Their mom always says there’s nothing a cookie can’t solve, and maybe that’s true of failed tests and middle school heartaches.

It’s a little harder when you had to kill people to stay alive.

Rosé tries, goes through the motions with her sisters, grateful that she has them. Wishing she could be better for them. She tries to hold herself together with sugar and butter, erase the blood on her hands by replacing it with melted chocolate. She’s calmer by the end at least, the tightness in her jaw loosened.

She notices that the lights are on in the house across the path. There’s only one other occupant in the Victor’s Village, and she’s not sleeping either.

---

Denali has long been awake when Reaping Day comes. She’s always up early to go for her morning run. She doesn’t need to run for her life anymore, but she runs from the memories just the same. It’s a normal thing to do, like when she used to wake up early every morning and hunt, and she likes convincing herself she’s normal.

Normal people don’t sleep with a knife in their hand and a bow at their feet.

Running. Always running.

She wishes she didn’t have to come back from her run today. The reaping starts in a few hours, and she’ll be paraded across the stage, one of two victors for the district. And then she’ll get assigned some poor kids she’s supposed to mentor, and no matter what tips she gives, what favors she tries to get from rich sponsors, it won’t be enough. Those kids will never come home. Not like Denali did.

Her right knee is screaming when she stumbles in the door. She’s gone too far on it today. It had been mangled in the final fight in her Games--dislocated, muscles torn, bones shattered. The doctors fixed it up enough for her to walk painlessly, but her punishing runs are sometimes too much for it.

She makes breakfast but can’t bring herself to eat it. She never ate on Reaping Days as a kid, worrying that if the impossible happened and her name got called, she would puke in front of the whole crowd, which in her teenage mind was as bad as getting called. And then she was seventeen and the impossible did happen, and instead of being free from this once she passed eighteen, the Capitol’s rules of her serving as mentor meant she’d never really be free of the Games. Not even winning them had been enough to escape.

Donut yips at the door, and Denali realizes someone’s knocking. She pets her dog--she always wanted one as a kid, and it’s another attempt at normalcy--and opens the door to see Kandy and Kahmora on the other side.

“We’re here to cheer you up before today’s shit show,” Kandy says bluntly.

Denali manages a smile. She doesn’t see her friends very often--they’re busy with work, and her house and whole life are so dull she doesn’t blame them for not wanting to spend time here--but they always make it a point to visit on Reaping Day, and Denali is so used to the loneliness that it’s both nice and strange to have friends over. They’re the sole reason Denali has extra coffee mugs, which collect dust in the cupboard 364 days of the year.

“What do you think Manila will wear this year?” Kahmora asks, her way of avoiding the unavoidable.

Denali wouldn’t mind if she brought up the Games outright. She’s become something of an expert in them, rewatching old footage over and over, looking to lessen the Games’ power on her, or give her something that would help a tribute. If you know every second of every Games, if you’re prepared for anything, then you can’t get hurt.

“It can’t be worse than that pink coat from last year,” Kandy says.

“At least you’re not dressing her,” Denali says. It’s the first joke she’s made in months, and her laugh sounds hollow. Fake.

But they both laugh, continuing to talk about what Manila will wear to pick tribute names, and Denali can pretend she’s normal, even if normal people don’t have their back to the wall and eye on the door, ready to run if needed.

It’s fine.

She’s fine.

The reaping will be over soon, and in a few weeks, the Games should be over. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll be lucky enough to succeed and bring a kid home this year.

---

The doorbell rings minutes after Jan and Lagoona leave, and Rosé knows the time is officially here.

Denali gets her every year and they walk to the reaping together. It’s nice, not having to do it alone. Almost like having a friend, though Rosé doesn’t actually know what to call their relationship.

Denali was best friends with Jan, and Rosé remembers her climbing trees and making jokes, practically another sister to Jan. Hell, Denali was practically another little sister to Rosé. She could remember helping Jan and Denali with their math homework and teaching them to weave friendship bracelets. Rosé didn’t see her much after she got back from her Victory Tour--but then again, she didn’t see anyone much after that, didn’t really leave her room. And then five years passed and suddenly she had to mentor a seventeen-year-old Denali who was so much stronger and fiercer than the kid Rosé remembered, determined to be the best and win the Games. Rosé knew Denali could win, and did what she could to make it happen, giving tips and begging sponsors, and Denali came home. Their district hasn’t had a winner since.

“At least the weather’s nice,” Denali says as they head into town.

“Yeah.”

The weather. Rosé had helped Denali learn fractions so she didn’t tear her notebook out of frustration, had helped her perfect her grip on a knife, had included notes of encouragement with Denali’s parachutes in the Games, and they’re talking about the weather. It’s like this every year, every time they have to mentor, the bare minimum of small talk and work talk. It’s like their past is so fragile they’re afraid to bring it up, that even the slightest mention of what they share will shatter the glass, and the images of them inside it.

The Games are the biggest thing that unite them, an experience and horror they share. But the topic is an ocean between them, one they hesitate to stick their toe in with each other, one they have their own ways of dealing with. Denali thrashes through the ocean; Rosé sees her go for a run every morning, and then walk her dog later, and then do yoga after that, careful activities that let her stay above the tide, fighting the forces that want to pull her under. Rosé just lets herself drift in the waves while trying to avoid that she’s in the water at all, and hopes she has enough air not to drown when the water swells.

“Your--your hair looks nice,” Rosé says. Whatever pointless things they talk about, she’s always nice to Denali, still has it in her to do that much. And her hair really does look nice, twisting down her back in a long braid.

“Thanks.” Denali’s cheeks flush pink. “Yours does too.”

“Jan did it for me.” She touches her waves self-consciously. It’s been a while since her hair’s been this nice, and she kind of likes it. She’d do it more often, but what’s the point when she sits at home all day?

“She was always good at hair stuff. She used to do all these braids for me at school when we were bored.” Denali stops suddenly, biting her lip like she knows she’s upset the balance, bringing up anything besides the safety of the weather.

“Yeah, well, I taught her how to do them in the first place,” Rosé says lightly, not wanting Denali to worry she’s done something wrong. She hasn’t, really; she hasn’t directly brought up the Games, at least. And it’s not like Rosé has ownership of mentioning Jan, not when she and Denali were so close and still see each other from time to time.

Denali smiles, and they talk about weather for the rest of the walk.

---

The stage is set, the dry grass ready to be trod on by the anxious steps of teenagers. Manila is poised at the microphone, warming up her throat. Her feathery yellow dress is blinding, as is the smile she flashes when Denali and Rosé reach the stage.

“That dress should come with a warning,” Rosé mutters, and Denali snorts. Rosé’s been a little more talkative this morning, even if everything comes out through clenched teeth, and Denali welcomes it.

“Our two lovely victors!” Manila says cheerfully, shaking both their hands.

“The only victors,” Denali says dryly, but Manila still laughs like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard.

“Yes, well, lovely victors just the same. Take a seat. The crowd will arrive soon.” She ushers them into the plain black chairs they sit in year after year, watching terrified kids trickle in.

The twelve-year-olds come first, and they look so young. Denali thinks they look younger every year. They struggle to stay in a straight line, tripping over uneven grass and bumping into each other, the fear radiating off them.

She risks a peek at Rosé. Her fists are clenched so tight her knuckles are white, and she keeps her eyes on the stage floor, like she can’t bear to look at the kids.

Denali remembers being in their shoes, standing on the same grass. Sometimes she remembers her first reaping clearer than the one when she got picked. Everything was a blur after her name got called, and watching the footage of that day is like watching a movie of someone else, because she doesn’t remember walking up to the stage. Doesn’t remember any of it.

But her first reaping exists in perfect clarity.

Denali holds her breath as Manila reads the slip of paper clutched in her neon orange nails. She’s only feet away from the stage, and it feels like Manila can see through her, like she knows she’s reading Denali’s name and knows exactly where to find her.

But Manila doesn’t read Denali’s name.

She reads her best friend’s name instead.

The whole row of kids gasps, like they can’t believe the reaping came so close to them--came to their very row--but is leaving them untouched. Kids are already giving Jan a wide berth, like they don’t want her bad luck to pass to them. In the back of her mind, Denali wonders if she should worry about that too. But she won’t leave her friend.

Jan is frozen in place at Denali’s side, tears silently streaming down her cheeks. Denali doesn’t even think she’s breathing. The purple bow in her hair is crooked, which she would never allow, and Denali knows things are bad.

Denali wants to tell her it’s okay, wants to help her, but how can she? Everyone knows a twelve-year-old tribute is as good as dead, and Denali doesn’t know if she can pretend otherwise.

“Jan…“ Denali tries.

Jan cuts her off with a sudden breath, nodding to herself and preparing to move. But before Jan can take a step, someone sprints to the stage in a blur of red hair.

“I volunteer,” the redhead says breathlessly. “I volunteer as tribute.”

The crowd erupts into whispers, but all Denali hears is Jan scream as she recognizes the volunteer.

Rosé McCorkell. Jan’s older sister.

Jan lurches toward her sister, trembling so hard that Rosé grabs her waist to keep her upright.

“No, no, Rosie, please!” Jan is sobbing, her face a mess of tears, fighting to break her sister’s grip.

“Jan, it’s okay. It’s okay,” Rosé says softly, though Denali can see her legs quiver for a second. “I’ll come home, I promise. I love you.” Rosé rubs Jan’s back, soothing her as she cries, and though it almost feels too personal for Denali to witness this, she can’t look away from the firm set of Rosé’s jaw, the determination on her face.

Rosé fixes the bow in Jan’s hair, kisses the top of her head, and walks up to the stage.

Manila’s voice, unchanged even after all these years, pulls her into the present.

“Now since this is the Quarter Quell,” Manila begins, “things will be a little different this year.”

Something tugs in Denali’s stomach, her heart picking up speed, all her senses on high alert. The Quarter Quell is always something different; maybe double the tributes, or half of them. But the uncertainty is bad enough, straying from the careful routine Denali expected. Something’s not right; her body senses danger. But her body is always sensing danger. Maybe she’s just being paranoid.

“To honor the Games’ history and glory, this year’s tributes will be chosen from each district’s living victors.”

Rosé’s sharp intake of breath tells Denali she’s figured it out. When Denali realizes, she doesn’t breathe. She doesn’t move. She’s seventeen again, hearing her name at the reaping, the words repeating over and over as she walked numbly to the stage.

Two tributes for each district.

Two tributes from each district’s living victors.

Their district only has two living victors.

For all the rewatching Denali’s done, all the times tracing every twist and turn of the Games, she never prepared for this. Already, her legs are burning with the urge to run like she did in the arena, running from the enemy with a constant look over her shoulder. She can’t run from this. She couldn’t as a teenager and she can’t now, when the Capitol could kill her for it.

Though she might not survive anyway.

It’s too much for her mind to process. The world becomes a formless blob and all she can hear is her heart pounding in her ears. Pounding not only in fear, but anger, anger for her and all the victors. Anger at a system that praised them for winning and said they’d have peace afterward, but never really let them be free from the Games. They did their time. They survived the Games, emerging covered in blood and sweat and tears, scars on their bodies and in their minds. Reliving the Games through mentorship each year is bad enough. How could anyone make them do this again?

Manila is handed the huge glass bowl she always uses, but instead of a mountain of slips, only two pieces of paper lie at the bottom. There’s no escape.

“Our first tribute--”

“What’s the damn point?” Rosé asks, rising from her chair, and honestly, Denali doesn’t know how she’s standing. Rosé’s face is pure white, and she quickly hides her shaking hands behind her back. She has the same look in her eyes as when she volunteered for Jan: the look of an animal who sees the hunter and knows the arrow is coming, but stands their ground anyway, brave and defiant to the end. “It can only be us.”

Manila takes a flustered breath, cheeks flushed even through her thick makeup. “Well, tradition and all--”

Denali rises too, locking her wobbly knees. “Fuck that. Rosé’s right. No sense drawing this out.” Her mom always made her drink cough syrup in one bitter swallow as a kid, and Denali would rather get the misery over with.

Rosé gives a nod of approval, and Denali blushes. Part of her still sees Rosé as Jan’s older sister, as her mentor, someone Denali desperately wanted approval from. But approval or not, she agrees with what Rosé’s doing--taking some power from the Capitol, defying the rules and going into this with their anger known, instead of sitting by and letting a piece of paper and fanfare dictate it for them. If they have to do this again, they’re doing it their way.

Manila clears her throat and takes the microphone again, instantly silencing the crowd. “Well, then. I present your District 12 tributes for the 75th Hunger Games--Rosé McCorkell and Denali Foxx. May the odds be ever in your favor.”

The words wash over her as they did eleven years ago.

Denali’s going back into the arena, and Rosé--her old mentor, her old friend--is coming with her.

[putflowersinmyhair-callmepretty]

The fate of a nun (Finan x OFC); part 7

GENERAL A/N: Hi there! This story is my first attempt to write a fanfiction. English is not my first language, so feel free to let me know how to improve my writing/language skills 😊 I will try and post a chapter per week, let’s see how it goes! The story takes place in season 3 and you will notice that I have used some of the sequences and dialogues from the tv series, changing them to include my OC. I did try not to be too colloquial and informal with my writing -giving the time of the story- but I preferred to make it more enjoyable and “readable” than realistic, same goes for Finan’s accent. I’m nervous and excited to share my work, hope you enjoy! Bacini, Cate.

A/N: Hiiiii! Sorry for the long break, I’ve been veeeery busy with uni :( Happy New Year and I hope you like this chapter, cause I love it!

Summary: The life of the young novice Aoife completely changes when the Lady of Mercia arrives to the Abbey of Wincelcumb. Oaths, battles and love will turn her in a warrior.

General warnings: Violence, Blood, Strong Language, Smut, Fluff, Graphic description of violence

Chapter’s warning:  Blood and little of Finan in this chapter.

Chapter Six.

Chapter Seven: Cenric

Abbey of Wincelcumb, Mercia, five years before. The harebells brushed against Aoife’s ankles, leaving an itchy kiss on her soft skin, and she laughed lightly. She had few memories of her mother, but every time the breeze moved her hair, it felt just like her touch. “Quick, quick, child!” Sister Aeskel mumbled patting her back lightly “Always so distracted! God really takes special care of you, I’m surprised you haven’t fallen into a ravine yet.” she growled in her thick Northumbrian accent, but she was trying to suppress a smile. “But you wouldn’t let me die, would you, Sister?” “ Course not! I wouldn’t waste precious help!” Aoife’s cackle was covered by a drumming of hooves, so close that the ground under her naked feet trembled. A beautiful black horse was galloping up the hill, right towards them. “I looked, and behold, a black horse; and he who sat on it had a pair of scales in his hand.” Sister Aeskel cried terrified, but Aoife was not scared, nor believed that the horse was an omen of the apocalypse. As a punch on her stomach, a memory came: a young Aoife was running her small hands on the smooth coat of a horse and her mother was begging her to be careful, a worried look on her ripe, sweet face. “Aoife!” the Sister screamed, pulling her aside just moments before the horse trampled the ground she was standing. It did not stop, running straight towards the Abbey. On its back, a body lay pathetically, like one of those rag dolls sprawled in the corner of her room. “Sister, ‘twas a person!” “I know child, I’m old not blind! Come, quick! Try not to harm yourself until we’re at the Abbey!” There was a library in the nunnery, a square room with the four walls covered with books from floor to ceiling. When she was six, the Abbess forced her to read each of those books. “Books clear your path to Heaven. A full mind is a full soul” she used to say, and at the time Aoife was too scare to disobey; little by little, she started enjoying reading, which pleased the Abbess greatly, and many months before her fourteenth birth she had already read every book in the room. She especially liked the pictures, she would run the tips of her fingers on the lines, her touch light as a feather, careful not to ruin the thin parchment. There was one particular image that intrigued her: a deposition of Christ, his body covered by a thin cloth. The man, lying on the infirmary bed, reminded her of that image. He was sleeping, his breath shallow and heavy. A sheet covered his waist, and a wide and deep wound run down his chest. When Aoife and Sister Aeskel reached the Abbey, the horse was neighing loudly and banging his hooves on the ground. The man had fallen down its back and was now laying on the stairs, a puddle of blood widening under him. Four sisters had hurried him in the nunnery, where Aoife, frozen in horror, had watched Sister Aeskel trying to save his life. “He will live, Aoife.” Sister Aeskel approached her with a motherly smile “Can you please wash him?” She still had his blood under her nails, pressing uncomfortably again her skin and she tried to brush it away on her smock. No matter how hard she tried, she could not take her eyes off the man. He had red hair, messily falling to his broad shoulder, harsh skin burnt by the sun and strong features, with a wide jaw and high cheekbones; she had met men before, bishops, priests and farmers from the village, but no one as handsome as him that even now, passed out and covered in sweat, resembled an angel. She dropped on the chair next to his bed and without thinking about it, took his hand in hers. She knew then that he would be her despair. “Are the ropes tight, Aoife?” She felt weak and feverish, her fingers trembling on the knots. “Aoife!” Sister Aeskel insisted “I need your head to be clear for once.” “They’re tight, Sister.” The nun nodded, gripping nervously the iron poker and pulling it out from the fire. Its red, angry spike made Aoife’s stomach turn. The man’s wound had infected and poking it with burning iron was the only remedy Aeskel knew. “Keep his head still, Aoife.” she ordered. They had moved him on a wooden table, and he was lying unconscious, ankles and wrists tightened with thick ropes. Aoife stuck between his teeth a thick piece of leather, then, with a hand on his cheek and one on his forehead, she kept him down against the wood. “Pray for him, child” Sister Aeskel whispered and pushed the spike in the open wound. There was a moment of celestial peace, then the man squirmed in pain, an animalistic scream exploded from his throat and Aoife was crying, shouting her apologise over his shrieks and she had to push him down with the entire weigh of her body, Aeskel prayers a distant noise in her ears. It lasted not more than a minute, but at the end Aoife was exhausted. Her limbs were shaking violently but she forced herself to pat a fresh cloth on his face, cleaning the sweat and tears from his eyes and skin. His eyelids quivered under her touch and his breath was short but deep, and she smiled gratefully, thanking God for the miracle. And then, she met the palest eyes she had ever seen. The man was awake, for the first time in days, and a weak smile cracked his harsh features. “Are you an angel?” he whispered and passed out again. She entered slowly, careful not to drop the tray with ale and food, while keeping the door open with her hip. “Sir?” she called “I bring food.” He was sitting with his back against the wall, legs stretched and a book on his thighs. He has been awake for a couple of days now, healing faster that she would have expected. Aoife had brought him food since the day he had woken up and he still hadn’t addressed her, and each time she grew more annoyed with the ungrateful man and his surly attitude. He shot her the usual glance, followed by a nod and she stepped closer, putting the tray on the table. She smoothed the creases of her skirt and stood, right in front of him, with her arm crossed. She could not stand ungrateful people, even less being ignored. She felt like she deserved a word of thanks, or at least some kind of acknowledgment. And her sisters too. “Why are you here?” He looked up, an amazed grin on his thin lips “You should change your tone, nun.” She gestured her unveiled head “Clearly, I’m not a nun.” “Why are you living here, then?” “I do not own you an explanation.” “Neither do I.” “I saved your life!” He chuckled coldly “You did not. I clearly remember your pretty face right in front of my eyes, you could not be the one pushing the iron against my flesh, lady.” “But I was the one who took care of you afterwards.” “You expect me to thank you?” Aoife raised her arms exasperated and, with a last venomous look, she left the room. “I apologize, lady.” Aoife did not look up from the herbs she was grinding. She was being difficult, of course, the man’s attitude was annoying, but he had not offended her seriously, not enough to deserve her silence. But, in that world that had stripped her of most of her freedom, her voice was the only power she still owned, and she was allowed to decide who deserved her time. He had not offended her seriously, but he had still been disrespectful and she would not waste another moment being kind to him. “Lay down, lord.” she instructed, and still pushed him down before her words could reach his ears, just because she felt the urge to treat him like a child. God would forgive her, he would even laugh, she was sure of it. Despite her prideful thoughts, she could not help but admire his pale bare torso, the soft blonde hair covering his chest and the bright red line of the healed wound. He had a mark on the base of his neck and the desire to press her lips on that area shook her to her core. “Yeah, just skip this part of the story, would you?” Finan mumbled, eyes fixed on the dancing flames. Aoife blushed, both for the cold breeze and the embarrassment of her words, and nodded quickly. Somewhere, deep in her soul, she acknowledged his jealousy and the small, sinful fairy in her, who enjoyed Finan’s attention more that her Christian education would allow her to, smirked viciously. At some point while she was talking, his hand had dropped in her lap and she had held it since and with every stroke of his rough thumb on the back of her hand, she felt her heart rate speed up. “Of course, yes. Where was I?” She spread the poultice all over his irritated skin, careful not to hurt him. “It shall fasten the healing.” she explained coldly, all her attention fixed on what she was doing. Still, she could not help but look up when his hand closed around hers. The man was already watching her, with a tentative smile, and when he noticed her attention, he retracted his hand quickly and she found herself missing the warmth of his touch on her skin. “Lady, I must apologise for my previous words. I did not intended to offend you.” She scoffed, getting back up and stepping away “You did offended me, lord. You can or cannot tell me who you are, it is not in my powers nor my intentions to force you to tell us what you might desire to keep a secret. And I apologise for demanding it.” She was rushing her words, afraid that if she would stop, she would not find the courage to keep going “However, you own words of thanks and an explanation to my Sisters that had sheltered and took care of you, only with kindness, but you’ve been patronizing us and treating the people that are healing and feeding you with arrogance.” she collected her mortar and pestle “You could be the king of Northumbria, for all I know, but this is the house of God and before him we’re all the same.” she smiled coldly and with a little bow, she walked to the door. “I am no king, lady.” he raised his voice to hopefully stopping her from leaving. She turned around slightly, watching him with her eyebrows raised. “I am no king, lady. I’m just a man and you can call me Cenric. If you’ll allow me, I will tell you my story.” Under his hesitant gaze, she smiled tenderly “Thank you, Cenric. I’d be honoured.” It was a cloudy, calm spring day, but the summer was coming, she could smell it in the breeze. The lord was walking slowly, carefully leaning on a wooden stick she had grossly carved during the night. Sister Aeskel had asked Aoife to take him for a walk and she had more than gladly obey, she was craving any piece of information over the man. He was breathing heavily and Aoife asked him many times if he wanted to rest somewhere for a while, but he was as stubborn as a bull and every time she pointed out his fatigue, he sped up his pace, so she stopped asking, humouring him to prevent his wound to open again. They walked for a while in silence, and she patiently let him enjoy the clear air and peace; wherever he came from, she was sure there was no place as restful as the gardens of the Abbey. Somehow, they ended up in the stables. Cenric’s majestic black horse was the only one in the stalls and was chewing hay slowly. “Poor thing” Aoife said lowly “It must miss running.” She could feel his gaze on her skin “She sure does, she’s always being restless.” he stepped closer and the horse pushed her face against the palm of her owner. Cenric caressed her with long, slow strokes and gestured Aoife to approach them. “Put your hand under her nose, let her smell you.” The horse sniffed her deeply, tickling Aoife’s wrist with her warm breath. She couldn’t help but laugh lightly and the sound amazed the animal that shot her a wary look and then pushed her long face against the girl’s shoulder. The strong, affectionate touch took Aoife by surprise and she stepped back, losing her balance. She felt Cenric’s strong touch against the small of her back, sending shivers down her spine. Aoife held her breath, careful not to break the perfection of that experience. No man had ever touched her before, not even a brush of fingers, and the pressure of Cenric’s hand on her was secure and strong and made her head spin. It was just a moment, though, then he drifted away to run his fingers through the mare’s coat; she mimicked him and it felt like the most precious velvet under her fingertips. “What’s her name?” she asked then timidly, she hoped he would not notice the shortness of her breath and the blush on her full cheeks. She could hear him smile through his words “Godiva.” “Godiva!” Finan turned around shooting a knowing smile to the black mare that was grazing grass a few steps further. “Ye’.” Aoife smiled fondly at the creature “A valuable gift.” “He must have loved you dearly.” Finan noticed, watching her through his thick eyelashes. Aoife could not meet his eyes, fearing that she would break in tears in front of that stupid fire “Shush, let me talk.” “She must have cost a fortune.” “She was gifted to me.” Cenric answered and his amused smirked appeared under Godiva’s neck “You’re a curious little thing, aren’t you?” She smiled brightly “You promised me you would tell me your story.” He chuckled, watching her intensely “Indeed I promised. What do you want to know, lady? You can ask me freely.” “I have to ask?” He raised his eyebrows, a blank expression on his face, and with an exasperated groan she pointed at his chest “Who hurt you? And how? And why?” “So many questions…” “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” He rolled his eyes “I will, you eager woman, but I’m tired and sore. I say we rest for a while.” The sun had begun peeping out from the clouds and its warm kiss tinted Aoife’s face of a dark pink; she took of her shoes and settled her long skirt to cover her naked feet while she sat on the soft grass. She had dragged out from the stables two hay bales, for him to sit on, and was now waiting patiently for him to answer her questions. Knowing exactly, and enjoying greatly, the effect his secrecy had on her, he took his time to get comfortable and enjoy the warm sun, a rarity in his lands. When he reopened his eyes and they got used to the light, he found her already staring at him, with her pretty, fresh face on her bent knees that she was hugging tightly. He smiled again, impressed to still be able to do it; he had tortured her enough and, as hard as it was for him to open up, she had treated him much better that he deserved and, for reason he could only associate with the attractiveness of that young peculiar woman, he was eager to guide her through the lighter path of his dark past. “There’s not much to tell, lady.” “It won’t take long, then.” He was playing with the wood stick and Aoife waited patiently while he collected his thoughts. “My father gave me Godiva.” he finally said, eyes fixed on the grass. “I was seventeen at the time, ready to leave for my first battle against the Danes. He gifted me his best horse because he was certain I would die in that battle and he wanted my last friend to be that majestic horse. I would never forget the surprise on his face when I returned home, alive on Godiva’s back. I left for battle many times after that and I returned each time. I’ve been a warrior for the past seven years and I am certain I’ll be a swordman for the rest of my life.” he patted his chest lightly “And this wound is nothing more than a misunderstanding between swordmen in the ale house down in the village. Warriors are proud people, especially when ale is involved.” he raised his eyes to look at Aoife “I’m sorry if you were expecting a compelling story, lady. My life is not worthy of songs.” She knew he was lying, or at least he was not telling the entire truth, no one would be that much secretive about such normal life. Also, she was just a nun, but she knew that no tenants could afford a horse like that, and she was quite offended he would think she was fool enough to believe his simplistic explanation. Yet, she accepted what he was giving her, hoping that time would also heal his wary soul. “Thank you for talking to me.” He looked up to her, astonished “You’re a peculiar creature, lady.”

“Aoife.” “Pardon?” She shrugged timidly “You keep calling me lady, but I am not. Just call me Aoife.” He tilted his head, in a caricature of a bow “Well then, Aoife. It was a pleasure to walk with you.” “I do not trust him, Sister.” The Abbess was standing at the window of her room, watching, if not spying, young Aoife and that ungodly man. Even from distance, she could see that their hands were brushing against each other. Months had passed since his wound had completely healed, but he had asked permission to extend his stay. “I need God’s forgiveness, Mother” he had said, and the Abbess was in no position to refuse, but she knew, without the slightest doubt, that his soul’s redemption was not the reason of his stay. “I’m not blind, Aeskel, nor a fool. They think they’re outwitting us with their sneaking around during the night, but I’ve seen them.” She turned around, and looked Sister Aeskel with her sternest glance, the other nun nodded cautiously. “We’ve always known we couldn’t force her into becoming a nun; it is not the path God had planned for her.” she reached her Abbess and they watched in silence the shy lovers laugh under the sun of the hottest summer Mercia had experience in a long time. “I’m aware of that, Sister.” the Abbess then broke the silence “But she’s our responsibility and she won’t leave this Abbey with less than the most respectful and god fearing man she deserves.” Aeskel sighed sadly “I do not trust him, Mother.” she admitted “There is something under his perfect appearance that does not convince me.” “You’re freezing, my love.” Cenric’s hands run up and down Aoife’s arms, trying to warm her up; with the sweetest smile, she held his hand, stopping his frantic movement. “It is weird, isn’t it? How hot the days and cold the nights are here.” “You balance it, though.” He trapped a strand of her hair with his long fingers “Cold during the day, the warmest during the night.” In the holy house of God, their love was blossoming like the most beautiful, strongest rose in England; every step was new for Aoife and she had blindly entrusted her soul and heart to his experienced hands. She knew he had known other women, in deeper ways that she had allowed him to know her, but she preferred not to wandered too much around those thoughts, knowing way too well that she could not compare to the beauty and wit of women outside that Church. “You’re insulting yourself, Aoife.” Finan interrupted her again sternly, squeezing her hand “I’ve known my fair number of women…” “Not interested to know those stories…” “Let me finish” he scowled her and she silenced, and his harsh features softened in the tiniest smile “I’ve known my fair number of women and your beauty exceeds every man’s desire.” he tapped her temple with two fingers “And your more brilliant than any man, king, priest or warrior, I’ve ever met.” he patted her blushing cheek sweetly “There’s still work to do on your innocence, though. But we’ll get there.” he smirked smugly “Go on with your story.” “You know why I am distant in front of the nuns, Cenric. If the Abbess find out what is going on between us, she will separate us forever.” she caressed his cheek, and his stubble tickled the palm of her hand “She has the power to do so.” “Then come with me!” he exclaimed fiercely, gripping her hair tightly “We shall escape this miserable place and ride back to Wessex, where we could get married.” he embraced her hips, pulling her body against his “And birth children.” “This miserable place is my house.” she protested lightly, yet she could not hide how torn she was. “Do you love me, Aoife?” he whispered on her lips. She did, how can she not love the man, who held her with passion and promised her the freedom and family she had ever longed? And yet again, how could love be such a selfish feeling, was she in love with him or was she tricking herself into believing she did, only because he was the key to the life she had always aspired? Her response to his offer would change forever her path, and she should have reflected more than she actually did. But she was young and hastier that she would have like to admit. So she kissed him, with such force to make him stumble backwards, and whispered “I will come with you.”

“I’m in love, Sister.” Aeskel looked up from the herbarium “Are you now?” “I am.” “You’re just a child, dear.” “Girls younger than me have already birthed children!” The nun stopped what she was doing and sat on a chair “Come, child.” she patted her knees and Aoife chuckled lightly but followed her silent order and sat on them, careful not to hurt the nun. Years had passed since the last time she had been in that position, yet wrapping her arms around the nun’s shoulders felt natural and familiar. Time was leaving its mark on her face, but, behind the deep wrinkles and the patches on her skin, she still was a beautiful woman, with big doe eyes and a pretty nose. “Listen to me, baby.” the woman said, caressing Aoife’s back and hair “Cenric is a good person, but you’ve known him for less than a butterfly’s life.” Aoife’s looked up to heaven, trying not to cry. She knew she was stubborn, and it was too late for the Sister to try and change her mind, she was to leave with Cenric. And yet, her heart was breaking in a million pieces, because escaping that place also meant leaving behind the only family she had ever had. “I cannot explain my heart, Sister. I wish I knew the words to describe such a deep feeling.” She kissed the nun on her forehead “But I leave this place with a burden on my soul.” Aeskel stiffened “Are you to leave?” The girl smiled and stood up “I will forever cherish our time together, Sister.” and left. She had packed her bags too soon. Cenric had instructed her to meet him at the stables, when the moon was at its highest spot in the sky. At dinner, she had excused herself early, as the emotions swirling in her stomach would not let her eat, and at the last lights of sunset she had already packed her few belongings. Surrounded by the silence of the dark, she had watched her feet scrape the wooden floor and waited, long enough for fear to overcome excitement. Luckily, when she was about to reconsider her choice, the moon touched the top of the dome of the sky, and she left, with her light sack and heavy heart. When she reached the stables, the cold had already pierced through her mantle and into her bones and she gladly welcome the warm of the horse’ breath. “Hello my love.” she greeted Godiva, patting her on the neck, “Are you eager to leave?” The horse neighed and pushed against her hand; Aoife grew fonder of Godiva every day and the animal too seemed to prefer her attention to those of everyone else. And so she waited her lover, patting his horse and listening to her heartbeats and the noises of the animals in the night. At some point, she slipped down to the floor and, when the first lights of the day brighten the stables, she was still laying there. No sign of Cenric. “That’s it? He was just gone?” Aoife smiled sorely “Just like fog. Nobody saw him leave or had the guts to tell me that he did, but he was gone.” she chuckled bitterly “The coward took his time to go to my room and leave his weapons as a gift. How generous of him, right?” “I really don’t know how I should answer to that, Aoife.” “You shall not.” she brought her hands to the fire, grazing the flames with the tips of her fingers. “Did you love him, Aoife?” Finan asked, before realizing that he didn’t want to know the answer and the more she thought about it, the more he wanted to pretend like he had not asked anything. She noticed his discomfort and put a hand on his face; her skin was hot and welcoming, and he relaxed under her touch. “Don’t take my silence as uncertainty, Finan. It’s hard for me to interpret my feelings at times, but I’m sure about this. He was handsome and I desired him, but I know now that love is something deeper, it is longing a body as much as a soul and a heart and a mind. I craved his body and the freedom he promised me, but when I closed my eyes and pictured a family and a happy life, he wasn’t part of it.” she shrugged, unsure “Sometimes I wonder where I would be now if he hadn’t left.” “Well, we’ll never know. And I’m glad about that.” Finan smirked smugly, then the sound of footsteps made him turn around. Two companions were approaching to replace them on guard duty. Finan patted Aoife on her back “Come on. Time to sleep.” “Thank God, I’m freezing.” she stretched her limbs and got closer to her friend, to enjoy the warmth of his body until they reached the tents. She hit his hip with hers “Thank you for listening.” He wrapped her shoulders with his strong arm “I have to say, I preferred you when you were quiet, you blabber wee thing.”

“Oy!”

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

Strep

You go to visit your brother, Tom, in the states, but you get sick and beg him not to tell your parents.

-

          “Are you sure you feel well enough to go?” Your dad asked you as you shakily made your way over to where your bags were sitting. You were about go visit your oldest brother, Tom, for the whole of summer break, but the past day you hadn’t been feeling well. You were sure it was the bad Indian food you’d had the night before, but you weren’t letting anything stop you. It had been four months since you’d seen him and he’d surprised you with a ticket without even asking your parents first. There was no way you were going to give it up.

           “Yes, Dad, I’ll be fine,” you said, “it’s probably just the food from last night.” He sighed.

           “Alright, then, load the car up.” You loaded your suitcases, bags, and backpack into the car for your dad to take you to the airport, only for a second barging into your only younger brother’s room to make him tell you goodbye. The others were gone on some weekend trip, so you’d said goodbye to them two days before and they’d tried to convince you that your plane was going to crash over the ocean, so it was better that you didn’t see them again.

           You said goodbye to your mom and your dad started driving you, letting you out at the closest terminal to yours. It wasn’t the first time you’d flown, you were basically an expert at it, even though it was the first time you’d actually been alone. Usually you had one of the boys with you if not your parents, so you were watching things a little more than usual. But you printed your boarding pass, checked your luggage in, went through security, got some food, and FaceTimed Tom.

           “Are you almost on?” He asked when he saw you’d already downed most of the tea you’d gotten.

           “Yeah, we board in a few minutes. It says I get in at nine tonight.”

           “Alright. I’ll be there, then, I’ll park and meet you at the baggage. Fly safe. I love you.”

           “I love you too.” His face disappeared when you shut your phone off. You didn’t hate flying, but you hated taking off, and turned your music up as loud as it would go. Thankfully your flight got in so late that it was pretty empty and you could pick a seat of your own. You made sure not to look at the map, since it only freaked you out that you were going over the ocean for such a long time, and you bought WiFi to watch a few movies.

           You started to feel sick again, but you were going through a storm and you were getting tossed all over the place, so that was probably it. You just opened the blanket you brought, noticing how cold the air on the plane had gotten, and reclined your seat as much as you could to sleep a little. And you were out for most of the rest of the flight – you let yourself look at the map when you felt the plane going down and realized you were about to land in Atlanta.

           “There she is!” You heard Tom’s familiar voice and tugged out your headphones, walking over to him and hugging him tightly. “How’s my favorite sister?”

           “Tired,” you responded honestly. He laughed.

           “Well, we’ll get your bags, I want to take you to get food, and then you can get settled in.” You nodded, looking at the screen that told you your flight was next for baggage. It would still be a few minutes, though, so you let yourself catch up with Tom and throw away all of your trash. You finally got your bags and he led you out to where he’d made Harrison keep the car waiting.

           “It’s about time!” Harrison called out, getting out of the car to help with your bags. He attacked you with a hug first and then playfully pushed you back away. “Hungry?”

           “Please,” you responded with a laugh as you got in the back seat. Tom shut the trunk of the car and let it settle before getting back in the front. “I missed you guys. I missed American soil.” Tom laughed as Harrison tried to pull away from the curb before the airport police would get pissed off at him.

           “How was flying by yourself?” Tom asked, looking behind you. You heard the GPS say something about a restaurant.

           “Not bad. Definitely easier than with Paddy and the twins.” He grinned.

           “Anything is better than flying with them. They have to go to the bathroom every ten minutes, all three of them.” Tom adjusted the hat on his head and turned back, letting you watch as Harrison drove through downtown. There wasn’t any traffic and they pulled into some drive-thru, ordering a shit ton of food, and passed it back for you to hold.

           “How much food do you get here?”

           “Are you surprised?” Tom asked as he handed you the third Styrofoam box. You rolled your eyes and tried not to gag. You didn’t know why, because the food smelled good, and you were starving because all you’d had was half a bag of goldfish you got from the airport so they were stale.

           You ate with the boys, more than you thought you would, showered off the airport smell, and went to bed. Tom didn’t have to go film for another three weeks, so you had some quality time with him for a few days. You’d decided to go to Six Flags the next day since it wouldn’t be as crowded on a weekday, so you woke up only a few hours after going to sleep. You felt drained, but a cup of coffee fixed it. You’d never had issues adjusting to new time zones, but this one had thrown you for a bit of a loop.

           “You good?” Tom asked you as you plopped down on the bar stool, head on your elbow.

           “Yeah, just tired,” you responded. He looked you up and down, sighing.

           “Are you sure you want to go?”

           “Dad asked me the same thing. I’m fine, Tommy.” Your nickname for him always made him smile and now was no different. He gave you some of his breakfast and the two of you ate while you waited for Harrison, and then you all headed out to go to the park.

           “It’s so hot,” you complained later as the Atlanta sun beat down on you. Tom could tell you were a little overheated, but he took the bag you were wearing from you and exchanged it with the giant water he got. Your throat was sore, it had been since you woke up, but you didn’t think much of it. You never did. Your body could just hate the fact that you were halfway around the world. You tried not to think about it as you and the boys wandered around the park for most of the day, but it got progressively worse until you could feel a clicking in your throat whenever you swallowed. But you were probably fine, so you ignored it.

           “I’m taking a nap!” Harrison called that night as you finally got back to the car. All three of you were sunburned and exhausted, especially because you’d consumed so many sugary snacks that by the time you got back to the car all of the sugar had left you crashing. You tried not to fall asleep, and Tom made sure to hit a curb on your side to wake you up.

           “Come on,” he said, shoving you after he pulled into the driveway to the house he was renting. You woke up and got out of the car, taking off your makeup and going to bed as soon as you could.

           You woke up the next morning feeling ten times worse than the night before. Your throat felt like it was on fire, but you could barely fucking swallow when you tried to drink some water. You looked over at Tom, who was still asleep. The house only had two bedrooms and Tom wasn’t about to make you sleep on the couch but he wasn’t going to either, so unless he decided to bring a real girl over you were sleeping in his bed as far away from him as you could. Your entire body ached and the last thing you wanted to do was go back to sleep, so you did.

           “Wake up!” About two hours later, at ten AM, you felt Tom pushing you back onto your side of the bed.

           “What?” You asked in a hoarse voice.

           “You sound like a smoker,” he responded.

           “I feel awful.”

           “Come on, I’ll make you something to drink,” he encouraged, pulling the covers off the both of you. You followed him anyway, and as soon as you started walking to the kitchen your head started throbbing. But you sat down at the kitchen counter and he started to make you some of your favorite tea. You wondered why he kept it around if you weren’t there – he always said he hated sweet teas, but your favorite was peach.

           “Thanks,” you said a few minutes later as he was handing it to you in a Spider-Man mug. He’d made sure not to make the water too hot so you wouldn’t die drinking it. It felt good coating your throat, but as soon as it left, you felt awful again.

           “I don’t have a thermometer,” he said as he walked over to you, putting his palm to your forehead. “You’re burning up.”

           “I feel like shit,” you complained. “I need a shower.”

           “Go take one. We can just relax today, okay?” You nodded and went to go take another shower. Your clothes were sticking to your skin from sweating, and you felt so bad that you changed the sheets on the bed. You came back out and Tom had ordered food, but the idea made you sick to your stomach.

           “Come get a waffle before I destroy them all,” a tired Harrison said as he was about to pour syrup all over the box full of waffles.

           “I’m good,” you said, taking a spot in the corner of the couch between the boys. You drank a second round of tea, but it wasn’t helping much. You could see your mom’s contact name on Tom’s phone and snatched it away from him.

           “I’m just going to call her and tell her you’re sick!”

           “And then she’ll come here or she’ll make me come home! I’m fine, Tommy, please?” You didn’t give him his phone back until he agreed not to tell your mom, and when he said he wouldn’t say anything you gave it back to him.

           “Your germs are all over it!” He said, wiping it off on his t-shirt. “If you’re not better by this afternoon, I’m taking you to an urgent care.”

           “Fine,” you agreed, “just don’t tell Mom. I’m fine.”

           “You’re lying, but okay.” He let it go, though, and even though Harrison went to run some errands the two of you stayed on the couch. You laid on opposite ends of the couch, your feet touching, like you were known to do at home. Even though you were right in the middle, you were Tom’s favorite and it was no secret. You and Paddy were roped into being together most of the time, so when you got to spend time with Tom you were always excited because he was Spider-Man, he was the coolest older brother ever, and you were always so excited to see what he was doing and hang out with him.

           “Feeling any better?” He asked you, poking your leg that was wedged between his and the couch a few hours later. You shook your head. He’d all but babied you for most of the day, and for the last few hours you’d been sleeping through episodes of New Girl.

           “No,” you replied. Tom sighed and sat up, so you did the same. You knew what he was going to say and you didn’t want to hear it.

           “Then I’m gonna call some place to take you, okay?”

           “No,” you begged him. “I’ll be fine.”

           “You’re sick and I don’t know how to help you. We’re taking you as soon as Harrison gets back. Go get some clothes on.” You did as he told you to do, not wanting to take the chance of your parents finding out, and pulled on some clothes. Harrison was back soon and handed the car keys off to Tom, who called an urgent care.

           You found out an hour later after about a million swab tests that you had strep. You groaned, looking over at Tom, and he just rubbed your back as they told you they were giving you some steroids. The nurse left you and you just looked at Tom. You were never sick, ever, and you had never even had to get tested for anything.

           “You’re fine,” Tom said with a sigh. “And you’re expensive. You do realize I don’t have insurance in this country?”

           “I’m sorry.” He just laughed at you.

           “I’m kidding. I don’t, but… It’s fine. I’m just glad I can take care of you. I’ll be outside.” You nodded and he pat your back again before taking his wallet out. The nurse gave you some steroids and let you go, but not before warning you that you were still contagious for a full day.

           “I’ll get you some ice cream if you’ll sit here for a few minutes,” Tom offered as he pulled into the Target parking lot. You nodded and he handed you a phone charger, leaving the car on for you while he went inside. He was back in a few minutes with your favorite ice cream, Americone Dream, and some other snacks that wouldn’t irritate your throat too much.

           You got back and got some of the ice cream out – you’d told Tom you would sleep on the couch, it was fine, and he’d tried to make it as comfortable for you as he could. He even bought you another expansion pack for the Sims without you even asking. It somehow got out in the family group chat, the one without your parents, that you were sick. Paddy and Harry were absolutely awful to you about it, but Sam, ever the sweet one, sent you a few private messages and carried on a few games of 8 Ball in iMessage because he felt bad for you.

           “I am officially not contagious anymore!” You said the next afternoon after the boys came in from where they’d been out by the pool. “So you can come within six feet of me.”

           “As if!” Harrison said, laughing a little bit. You loved him, but man he was mean sometimes.

           “Oh, fuck off!” Tom said, pushing him up the stairs to the bedrooms. Tom came back a little bit later to make some snacks and actually sat down beside you. “You look a lot better.”

           “I don’t feel a lot better,” you admitted. “I can’t sleep and my throat hurts and all I can keep down is tea and ice cream.” He sighed and threw an arm around you.

           “Come here.” He hugged you tightly and you hugged him back. You didn’t know how long you were there for, but you were almost asleep by the time that your parents called.

           “Oh, no,” you groaned.

           “Just stay quiet, I got it,” he responded. You leaned your face into his arm, shutting your eyes. “Hey, Dad!” Tom said loudly.

           “Hey, how are the two of you? Do anything fun yet?”

           “We’re good!” You said. Your throat felt scratchy and you hoped he couldn’t hear it, and Tom sighed before going on.

           “We went to Six Flags yesterday and it was super cool, today we just stayed inside mostly. Y/n got me on some new ice cream and it’s really nice,” he said. Usually he liked to walk around when he was on the phone, but now he was just staying with you.

           “That’s lovely,” your mother said. “The boys miss you, Y/n.”

           “Oh, no they don’t,” you replied, rolling your eyes. Even though all of you got along, you still had to pretend you didn’t. Just for street credit. Tom put his finger to his lips, shaking his head at you to shut up. So you did.

           “We’re actually about to go out, there’s a bar here that does quizzes and we were gonna go to the Disney one. So we’ll talk to you later?” All of you said goodbye and he hung up, putting the phone down on the coffee table.

           “Are you leaving?” You asked him. He laughed.

           “Don’t look so concerned. I’m not leaving you just because you have strep throat,” he promised. He put his arm back around you and kept playing his video game, letting you sleep a little bit before making fun of you some more for sleeping on him.

           A/N: I hope this was fluffy enough for you! As much as I love Tom and would love to cuff him for myself, I feel like he’s a great brother too! 

Taglist (if you’d like to be on it send me a message/ask!): @an-adventureland, @firstangeldragonranch, @ssebstann, @winterreader-nowwriter

[frostsinth]

Deals with Demons - Pt. 4

Prologue | Part 1 | 2 | 3 | MasterList

Hello hello, my ace man, my mellow. Here’s the next part. I feel this fic might be a bit shorter than the others, or may be more like a ‘revisit for a steamy scene’ just jumping around fic. It is far too elaborate a plot line to follow along with the characters day by day. It’ll just end up being a novel, really.

Hope you all enjoy! A bit of smutty smut at the end, but otherwise a soft installment, I think. I have a related surprise gift for fans of this story that hopefully I shall post tomorrow if I finish it.

My body felt heavier. I was very aware of my eyes opening and swore I could even feel them moving about inside my skull. As if they were boulders rolling around instead of soft little squishy balls of jelly. I felt the air rushing in and out of my lungs like a mighty gust of wind with each breath I took. Heard the sound of that and my heartbeat in my ears like waves crashing on the shore. I could feel every single minute cell of my body that touched the huge bed, and when I started to turn my head to look around, it sounded like nails scraped along a wooden table to me.

It took a few moments for the sensations to settle, for everything to become a little more understandable. The canopy of the bed overhead seemed very detailed; each tiny individual string was as vivid as a sunset. As if made of thick corded rope rather than silk. I drew in another deep breath and could smell the thin smoke of an extinguished candle blown out hours before across the room as easily as if I had stuck it up my nostril. I blinked at it, studying the tiny fibers of the burnt wick thoughtfully.

Slowly, I managed to sit up. But the assault on my senses quickly had my head pounding. I reached up, cradling it in my palms. Though even that sensation seemed so buried beneath everything else I wasn’t sure I had moved at all. I could feel the air touching my skin, the individual molecules and almost the electrons moving between them. Yet was so overloaded I couldn’t tell if I had touched my own face. I groaned, then had to wince as the sound from my vocal chords overpowered the sound coming from my mouth and made my ears ring as if someone had fired a canon next to me. A more foreign sound I had never heard and couldn’t believe I had made it.

I became aware of a familiar, deep and throaty chuckle, and narrowed my eyes. I blinked a few times, my eyelids crashing together like planks of wood, and tried to sort out the source of the sound. Somewhere in my mind, I was able to maintain a thin trail of thought; I needed to find Abhilash to sort out this mess. Whatever this mess was. He was the answer.

I knew he was near, the chuckle had told me as much. But beyond that… I felt a strange, pulsing heat. Like that sensation when someone is standing next to you and you can almost outline their whole body just from feeling the heat washing off it. I didn’t think he was quite so close though, and managed to glance out of the corner of my eye to check. No, not within my peripherals at least.

I had to speak, to summon him to me and order him to lift whatever strange ailment had befallen me. But I dreaded the idea of hearing my own voice; my breath was certainly more than loud enough. I couldn’t imagine the pain my own voice would resonate within me. I groaned internally, trying to fortify my will and sort out my focus amid the assault.

“Concentrate.” Came his voice suddenly, filtering through my haze of over-stimulation like a delicate breeze on a blistering hot day. “Take a moment. Breathe it out.”

Had I spoken? I couldn’t seem to remember. But I clung onto his words, using them to anchor myself and holding my breath for a moment as I pushed back all the other things trying to demand my attention. I buried them down, packed them away into a more manageable input source. Then I released my breath in a great rush, and felt the pressure in my head lessen.

As things became more reasonable, I relaxed my shoulders, dropping down my hands from my face. Giving a deep sigh of relief. I almost started when another smoky chuckle tickled at my ear.

“You took too much at once.” He said.

I looked up at him, standing in front of the foot of the bed. As I turned my attention to him, he crossed his arms over his chest and raised one brow. A smirk played at the corners of his elongated mouth, and his tail flicked thoughtfully behind him.

“Took too much of what?” I asked, and even now the sound of my voice sent a sharp pain through my head. I reached up a palm, rubbing at my forehead with my brow furrowed.

“Magic,” He explained, considering me, “You pulled too much into yourself.” The smirk blossomed fully on his lips now. “Mortals are not designed to contain such amounts. At least not without extended exposure and tempering.”

I became aware again of the sensation of his body in space. As if without even looking, I knew exactly where he stood. How his arms crossed over his chest. How his muscular tail flicked in the air behind him. I even swore I could feel his nose twitch and his lungs expand as he sniffed at the air. I stared down at my lap, frowning as I considered that new awareness.

“Did you sleep well, My Queen?” The demon asked, and I felt him drop his arms and step closer. Another smirk slid over his lips. “You are positively glowing.”

I waved away his words irritably, still sorting through the strange extra sense of his body and the now much more subdued assault of my senses. “Don’t patronize me. How long was I out?”

He shrugged, leaning against the bedpost. “Not long. A few hours.” He cocked his great horned head to the side, “I sensed you might wake soon, and sent for one of the Sisters to tend you.”

“The Sisters?” I echoed.

Suddenly, the events of the previous day came rushing back to me. I straightened, blinking back the distractions and looking around the room.

I had never been in the private chambers of the Mother Superior, but I assumed these were them. The room was huge, with vaulted ceilings and decadent furniture. Most notable of the furniture was a large wardrobe and a great golden mirror beside it. Down a single step was a small sitting area, with a large plush looking couch and a polished wooden table set before a large fireplace. The stone walls had shelves carved into them, and most were filled with books and tomes. A few had artifacts and relics; some I recognized from the stories we were told as initiates, others I had no name for. There was also a great gold and wood chest at the foot of the large bed, with a huge lock set into the front.

The bed itself was large enough for five full grown men to lay in comfortably without touching. It was round, with four intricately carved wooden posts evenly spaced around the outside to support delicate, gossamer white curtains and a silk canopy. The bed was currently on the floor, and heavily lopsided. My face grew a little hot at the memory of our antics the previous evening. No doubt such a bed had not been designed to withstand such… exercise. Especially the kind involving a demon. But I also felt the tingle of anticipation in the pit of my stomach at the reminder. The corners of my mouth twitched as I struggled to fight the rush of warmth through my body at the thought of a possible repeat performance.

I certainly wasn’t going to bother getting the bed fixed. 

In fact, I decided I rather liked it in its half broken, disheveled state. The rest of the room was far too pristine for my liking; it looked fake to me. Another lie cultivated by the Mother Superior to suit her selfishness.

“A few agreed instantly to your terms,” He explained, bringing me back from my contemplations and crossing his arms back over his chest. “I decided to let the rest stew it over for a night before facing the consequences of their decision.”

I nodded, pleased. “Where are those that did not?”

“Locked in those quarters off the Southside. I placed an enchantment on the Abbey as well. None may enter or leave.” I turned to look at him and saw his four black eyes watching me. “I hope I was not overstepping your orders.”

I shook my head. “No. I appreciate your forethought. It will give me time to execute my plans more efficiently.”

His grin returned. “Excellent. And what are your plans?”

We were interrupted by the soft knock of knuckles against the large wooden door. Abhilash turned to look, his flames swirling about his head with the movement. I considered their flickering depths for a moment, finding myself more distracted by the display than usual with my keener eyesight.

“Enter.” I called finally.

The door slid open and a small, matchstick thin young woman slipped through the opening. Her head was down, her eyes on the floor. I could see her hands shaking from here. I recognized her as one of the newer initiates, and as she side stepped into the room, I tried unsuccessfully to recall her name.

“My Lady,” She breathed, then winced. Obviously uncertain how to address me. 

I saw her glance up at Abhilash, her eyes wide and frightened, then over to me nervously. When they settled upon me, they widened even more. My brain decided to recall the fact that I was naked right at that moment, rather than a more convenient time earlier. Like perhaps before I had let her enter.

But I brazenly brushed the embarrassment and self-consciousness aside. Modesty had been a grandiose ideal of the Mothers; I would not degrade myself to fall into their poorly formed footsteps. Slowly, I stood, trying to maintain as much poise as I was able. She dropped her head down again, clasping her hands before her.

“‘My Lady’ is fine,” I instructed her simply, then turned, padding barefoot over to the wardrobe, “‘Your Majesty’ and ‘Your Grace’ are also acceptable.”

“Th-thank you, y-Your Grace,” She stammered, working hard to study the floor at her feet for every detail it might hold, “I am grateful for your patience... May I assist you dressing?”

I shook my head. “That won’t be necessary. It is not why you are here.”

I pulled open the wardrobe doors to begin pursuing my options there, ignoring the strong sense of amusement that suddenly filled the air around me like a blast of steam. I even went so far as to physically wave my hand at the intruding emotion, as if I could brush it aside.

“Your Sisters; how do they fair?” I asked without looking at her, “Be honest. I will know if you are lying.”

I wasn’t entirely sure I would, but decided it seemed a fair statement. And better that they begin believing the impossible of me now; it would better ingrain their respect for me.

“They… they are afraid, My Lady…” She seemed to hesitate, “We… we are not sure what to expect.”

“There is no need for fear,” I told her, slowly considering each item in the wardrobe as if they were an important document of war as an excuse to keep my back to her, “You and your Sisters will find life here quite pleasant in time, I am certain. I do not hold with the same… mentality of the Mothers.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” She replied courteously, dipping her head.

“All I ask is that you maintain the Abbey; keep the garden tended, keep the halls clean. Wash the sheets and cook my meals. Everything you have always done.” I paused, and my voice became tight. “Except your prayer time shall be used in devotion to me.”

“...Y-yes, My Lady,” She bowed slightly again, “Of course.”

I turned to look at her, trying to sort the words in my head. Fighting through an alien curiosity that pricked at the edges of my mind and threatened to distract me. “I am reforming this place, Sister. For the better. And I do not intend to keep you against your will for long.” To her credit, she didn’t flinch at that. I waited a heartbeat before continuing. “I only wish for you all to have an opportunity to see the changes I am making before you decide whether or not to stay.”

“That is very gracious of you, Your Majesty.”

I waved away her falseness. “Enough of that. Address me with respect, but do not hide behind fake words.” I ordered her, my voice becoming sharper. “I always hated that. A leader should not oppress their followers, but elicit loyalty and respect without coercion and lies.”

She winced, but slowly chanced a glance up at me. “I.. I am sorry, My Lady. It is… force of habit.”

“I know that well. But you and your Sisters are free now. Free to read the books in the library. Free to wear what you’d like. Free to speak your minds and spend your free time however you wish.” I continued. “And, once I find a proper teacher, you will learn to fight.”

She looked up at me in surprise, but seemed uncertain where to rest her eyes. “Fight, Your Grace?”

I nodded, and smiled coyly. “Remind me, what is your name?”

“I am called Treya, My Lady.”

“Tell me; Can I trust you, Sister Treya?”

She blinked at me, then nodded. “O-of course, Your Majesty.”

I waved her closer. “I intend an order of Sisters. Built on respect and trust of each other. Who have had their bodies and their minds honed. An elite force, the envy of all others.” I glanced over at Abhilash, and saw him watching with a mask of neutral bemusement. “Loyal to me. And together, we will change the world.” I turned back to Treya. “Does this interest you?”

I could see a small flicker of awe growing in her big eyes, and she shifted her weight quietly. “...Yes, Your Majesty.”

I smiled at her again. “Then I need your help.”

“M-my help, Your Majesty?” She stammered, her bottom lip quivering.

“Your Sisters. Not all of them have seen my liberation for what it is; I need your help showing them my vision.” I turned back to the wardrobe, pulling out a white silk robe at random and pulling it slowly over my shoulders. “This is no longer a place to worship a false prophet; this is my castle. And from my new seat of power, I will make my mark. So tell me,” I left the front of the robe open and faced her again. “Is there a Sister who most vehemently speaks out against me?” I saw her waver, and hesitate. I raised a hand, smiling. “No harm will come to her, I promise. You don’t even have to tell me who.”

Quietly, she nodded. “Yes, My Lady, there is one Sister.”

I nodded. “Good. Release her.”

Surprise filled her face. “...R-release her, Your Grace?”

“Yes. Bring her to the gates and set her free. As a sign of my goodwill. Let your Sisters know that should they choose to accept my offer and denounce their old ways, not only will they have everything I have just told you, they will be allowed to walk free in one year’s time. Should they so choose when the time comes.”

Treya turned that over quietly in her head for a moment. I saw her glance over at the demon, and her hands shook again briefly. I felt Abhilash shift his weight slightly and flick his tail with eagerness. But the young Sister straightened her back and squared her jaw. I almost smiled at the sight.

“And if they should refuse to join you now, My Lady?”

“Then they shall be put to death.” I replied, coldly. Her new strength wavered slightly, and I saw her start to hunch into herself again. “Make no mistake, Sister Treya. I am Queen here. And I will be obeyed. But you will never question my true goal, nor will I hide my intent from you or your Sisters. You are not slaves, and I will not treat you as such.” She raised her gaze back to me. “My power is absolute, but I am not the Mothers. I am just, and reasonable. I will not lie to you, or try to brainwash you as they did. All I ask is respect, and you and your Sisters will flourish here.”

Slowly she nodded, and I nodded to the door, dismissing her. She bowed her head, carefully backing away. I saw her give one final fearful glance at Abhilash before she turned and slipped out the door once more.

I heaved a sigh once she had gone. So it has begun, I thought quietly to myself. I turned and walked towards the mirror.

“I do not see why you are releasing her,” Complained Abhilash after a few moments, “It would be better to simply kill the noisy one.”

I sensed more than saw him move, following after me. I shook my head. 

“She will serve a better purpose.” I told him, stepping in front of the mirror.

The person I saw reflected there made me start suddenly. The soft silken robe draped down to my ankles and wrists, perfectly splitting my front in two with the opening running down over the top of each breast. But my soft flesh... My eyes went wide, and I realized it was not just my naked body that had first startled the girl.

My bare skin seemed to glow with a soft, ethereal shine. It didn’t seem to directly give off light, as when I looked down at my hands I could not see anything amiss. However, when looking at myself in the mirror, it was unmistakable. Like an aura of a soft, rose tinted white. The setting sun through a layer of clouds. My eyes seemed more blue, like glittering gemstones, and my hair was like gold. I stared for a long while, taking it in. I even went so far as to touch the glass, not entirely trusting what my eyes told me I was seeing.

The demon appeared at my shoulder, and as my eyes flicked to his mirror image, his grin made me scowl. “I did say you were glowing.” He reminded me.

“What the hell is this?” I demanded, looking back at my own reflection.

I stiffened slightly as his hands slid over my hips, sliding smoothly over the draped silken fabric. He stepped closer, molding his body around mine. I felt a foreign eagerness tickling at the back of my thoughts, and the presence of his heat in my mind’s eye slowly melded with my own. Until they were nearly indistinguishable.

“It is a manifestation of your new power.” He told me, leaning down to rest his chin on my shoulder. “Consider yourself in a fresh... raw body. Like a snake who has just shed its skin.” His hands slipped under my newly donned robe, his fingertips skimming over my bare flesh. “It will fade with some time, until you replenish your power again.”

I shivered beneath his touch, and my eyes fluttered. He leaned his chest against my back, curling around me and pulling me into him gently. Again, I felt an eagerness not my own, and frowned at it. I was quickly distracted by his breath on my neck as he brushed his lips against my throat.

“What purpose does the freed Sister serve?” He murmured curiously against my skin.

I pushed away the curling desire in my stomach, focusing instead on my plans. Finding strength and an anchor in them. 

“She will bring word of us to the outside world.”

He raised a brow at me in our reflection. “This is a good thing?”

“I cannot build a reputation of power without demonstration.”

The corners of the demons mouth curled downwards, and I saw him studying me with one set of eyes while the other met mine in the mirror. His tail came around, curling around my ankles. The tip twitched, and I half wondered if it would catch my robes on fire.

“You would have them come here?”

I nodded, purposefully ignoring his hands as they slid over my breasts. “Heroes and adventurers are suckers for an innocent, pious girl who screams ‘monster’.” I explained quietly, my breath catching a little as his thumbs played with my nipples. “And from our defensible position, they will be easy to defeat. Spreading word of my new power.”

“And keeping the Sisters?”

“I will train them, as I told Sister Treya. They will become my own personal guards and spies.” My eyes fluttered again as he began to trace his lips against my neck. “Once I have instilled loyalty to me, I will send them out into the world as my agents.”

He gave a soft ‘hmm’ that vibrated through his lips against my neck and sent another shiver running down my spine. His long tongue slipped out, and he traced its tip along my jaw.

“There are not enough of them for an army.” He pointed out, his raspy voice at my ear.

“No. I will summon an army for that purpose. Then I will recruit.” I nearly stammered as his teeth nipped at my jaw. “Power draws the weak willed to it.”

“You will recruit more Sisters?”

I was wholly distracted by his hands pushing aside my robes. I watched our reflection in the mirror with bated breath as he ran them over my body. It took me longer than I cared to admit to realize he had spoken. I found myself entranced by a growing hunger that pressed against my consciousness. And the sight of him running his hands over me in the mirror.

“Sisters. Mercenaries. Warriors.” I breathed. “They will all flock to my ranks. I will have my pick of the best. And I can begin expanding my kingdom.”

He chuckled, and I felt it move through his firm chest pressed against my back as well as from his lips against my ear.

“Have I mentioned how much I love your conniving little mind, My Queen?” He hissed, then slowly snaked the tip of his tongue into my ear teasingly.

“S-stop that.” I gasped, jerking forward. 

His massive arms tightened around me to hold me still. “Come back to bed, my little lamb,” he purred, nudging me with his nose, “I am feeling… inspired.”

Again, I felt the strange hunger gnawing at me. I was so distracted by it, I hardly noticed the demon steer me around and back into bed. He scooped me up and climbed in, placing me down in the soft pillows at its head.

“I told you not to call me that.” I told him breathlessly, my retort delayed again by the alien sensation swirling around me. It was like a spectre I could not quite focus on when I tried, but which danced at the edges of my vision when I no longer looked directly at it.

He smirked, bending over me and pushing back my robe to expose my body to him. “I cannot help it,” He crooned, his long tongue lapping out to flick at my collarbone, “You are My Queen… but when I have your body like this…” His mouth closed over one nipple briefly, causing another soft gasp to escape my throat. I looked down and saw him grinning up at me mischievously. “I want to pretend you are just a little lamb for me to devour.”

Again I felt the strange sensation, and I paused, trying to chase it again. I reached down, cupping his face distractedly. My eyes danced around, as if I could actually see what it was that tormented me. I sensed him looking up at me, but didn’t turn to meet his gaze.

“What is that?” I asked, my voice wispy.

He leaned into my touch, then came back to hover over my face. “What is what, lamb?”

I kept my hand on his jaw, running my thumb over his lips. The flicker of foreign emotion spiked within my consciousness again.

“That!” I exclaimed.

I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I did know that the demon would also be able to sense the same thing I was. He titled his head to the side, blinking all four eyes at me. His horn nearly touched the bed at this angle, and his flames bathed us in a gentle glow. Slowly, a smile spread on his lips beneath my touch.

“That, my lamb,” He purred, leaning closer, “Is me.”

“You?” I echoed, confused.

Abhilash didn’t answer, instead bending down. Carefully, he pressed his forehead lightly against mine. His eyes closed, and I found mine naturally following suit.

There was a rush of strangeness, a lapse of my own consciousness. I felt instead a wave of invasive emotions and thoughts. I recoiled briefly, but then slowly relaxed. Opening myself to the sensation. I breathed slowly, and felt a matching deep breath twinning mine. A second heartbeat matched my own, drumming steadily in my ears. Then the thoughts. Less like words, more impressions and emotions. Amusement was most prominent, and I felt it so strongly I couldn’t help but smile as if it was my own. Beneath that, feeling familiar to this new consciousness within me, was the hunger. It coiled and uncoiled about me, like the midgard serpent, endless and eternal. Abated, but never satisfied.

I drank deep of this poison, and felt a little numb when it began to pull away. Slowly, I blinked, opening my eyes once more. And found four beady black eyes waiting for me.

“You.” I repeated, realization coming with the word as it slipped from my lips.

He nodded, tracing one large hand up my arm lightly. “The more I feed off you, the more connected we become. I can feel your emotions, your thoughts. I can sense your presence. But as can you sense mine. You will be able to feel my emotions, and soon, hear my thoughts.”

I ran my thumb over his cheekbone, and felt the hot intensity burning in my own stomach. “... You are hungry…”

He chuckled, his hand tracing over my collarbone, then down my sternum between my breasts. “I am always hungry.” He studied me with his smaller eyes. “You have a natural talent for this.”

I didn’t answer for a moment, feeling his hand trace down my stomach. It paused, lingering at my hip. I blinked stupidly, the heat already beginning to build up inside me. I wasn’t entirely sure how his touch was able to elicit such a response. I should be tired and sore from the previous night. But I found myself instead perfectly virile, as if our previous two encounters were a distant memory.

“Natural talent?” Again, delayed. Distracted. The hunger gnawing at my core.

It wasn’t mine. I could somehow distinguish that, despite how innately it entwined about me. But it was distracting. And it made my own desire that much stronger.

“Magic.” He explained. “I can feel it in you. I can feel you seeking it out when I feed.” He smirked. “Most mortals have to be spoon fed it. But you simply take what you want.” His mouth came down to my jaw again, and I felt his next words traced against my flesh. “Already you have taken more than I would have thought possible.”

I breathed out slowly, and felt his hand begin to move again. Nudging, smoothing, pressing. Massaging my skin tenderly. My eyes rolled back slightly, and I let out a hefty sigh. Relaxing against his touch as his big hand moved between my legs.

“We cannot linger,” I murmured softly, “I have a lot of work to do…”

But my eyes had already closed. I felt his lips skim up my jaw. When they pressed against mine, I responded happily. Parting my mouth to let his long tongue slide in and wrap about mine. His fingers teased my folds, tracing and retracing. Never quite pressing fully up between my legs. I breathed a soft moan into his mouth, and felt the tingle of his delight at the sound against my own consciousness.

“Your plan has excited me, My Queen,” He mewled against my lips, unwrapping his tongue from around mine to speak. “I am afraid I am powerless to resist your allure.”

I managed to pull myself back, away from the desire swirling in my chest and flooding my veins. I reached up and pushed against him with both my hands. He drew back obediently, looking down at me with an expression I couldn’t read in his demonic features. But the alien emotion of surprise skimmed alongside my thoughts, and I smirked.

“Tonight then.” I told him. “After I have finished my day.”

He growled softly, and the vibration beneath my hand from his chest made me shudder with desire. He brought his hand up, catching one of mine and turning it to kiss at my wrist. He teasingly licked at my long fingers, watching me out of the corner of his smaller eyes to see what reaction he drew.

“I will make sure you finish.” He promised, his breath tickling against the skin on my forearm as he worked his lips up it.

I sat up, pushing him back again. A frown settled on his large mouth, and I smirked in delight.

“Patience, Abhilash,” I told him.

I cupped his face with my free hand and leaned in as if to kiss him. I turned away at the last moment. Almost laughing with amusement at the mild frustration I felt melting off him.

“All good things to those who wait.”

....

UPDATE: Part Five HERE

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: Back At You (Butch/Buttercup)

A T-rated Greens one shot I did for our resident gothic heroine @avesthetea over on AO3! 💚

A heartfelt shoutout to the Instagram clown cult. Y’all know who you are and how much you inspire me to chronicle Brick’s eternal suffering in new and creative ways. It’s what we do.

Summary: When Buttercup's birthday planning falls apart at the last minute, the last person she would ever expect offers his help (or horror, depending on your perspective).

xxx

Buttercup’s phone buzzed on the nightstand by her head, and she jerked awake. Swallowing the bitter sleep taste, she wiped her mouth and fumbled for the phone. Head still buried in the pillow, she answered: “What time is it?”

“Time to get your ass to the precinct,” said Ty, her partner at the Citiesville Police Department. “Chief Foolery’s all hands meeting starts in twenty minutes. Tell me you’re not still asleep.”

Buttercup sprang up on her elbows and checked the time on her phone. Shit, she was going to be late. “Shit, I’m going to be late!”

“Girl, that’s what I’m tellin’ you—”

“Gotta go, bye!” Buttercup hung up the phone and would have launched out of bed if not for the arm that slipped around her waist and pulled her back down.

“Five more minutes,” Butch grumbled.

Buttercup lost her balance and ended up with her bare back flush against his equally bare chest. His breath was hot on the back of her neck where he pushed his nose among her loose black hair. “Butch, I have to go,” she said in a warning tone.

He chuckled, and it sent a thrill of heat down her spine and under the covers, where he pushed a knee between her thighs. “Why go when you could come?” The arm he’d looped around her waist traveled low beneath the sheets.

Buttercup groaned at his crass joke and caught his wrist before he could carry out the threat. “Because if I’m not at CPD headquarters in twenty minutes, Foolery’s going to pop a hemorrhoid—”

Butch flipped them over with his Super speed, and her back hit the mattress beneath him. He loomed over her, those green eyes acid-bright in the early morning sunlight streaming through his bedroom window. Her traitorous gaze raked up his chest, over the shadow of stubble on his jaw, and settled on those fast darkening eyes as he admired her in turn. But the moment he bent down to kiss her, she slipped out from under him in a flash of green and darted across the room. In a matter of seconds, she’d pulled out a spare change of clothes from the lone dresser drawer he’d cleared out for her use.

“Leaving me hangin’? For real?” Butch complained as he flopped back down among the sheets with a yawn.

“You’ll live. But I won’t if I’m late for this fuckery.” She dressed quickly in dark jeans and a button-up blouse before heading to the connecting bathroom Butch shared with his daughter, Brisa.

“Missin’ out!” Butch called from the bedroom.

Yeah, Buttercup thought as she combed through the tangles in her hair with her fingers and ran the water to brush her teeth. A knock on the door interrupted her morning ablutions, and Brisa entered through her bedroom door.

“G’morning,” she said. Her brown hair was a frizzy mess, and she clutched a stuffed purple Pretty Puff Pony under one arm.

Despite her haste to get out of there and jet to work, Buttercup spared the little girl a soft smile. “Morning, kid. You’re up early.”

Brisa grinned wide. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Buttercup’s smile fell immediately. “Did Butch sneak you that second chocolate bar after dinner last night? Goddamnit—Butch!”

“What, change your mind?” he called. “I knew you couldn’t leave before climbing my morning wood.”

Brisa made a face like she was going to ask, and Buttercup slammed Butch’s bedroom door shut. “Never mind. Let me guess, you were too excited to sleep because today’s your birthday, right?”

Brisa blinked up at her and smiled, her questions forgotten. “Yeah! Oh my gosh, we’re gonna have so much fun!”

Buttercup chuckled and ruffled her messy hair. “For sure. But first, I have to go to work.”

“You’ll be back for my party, right?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Pinky promise?” Brisa held out her little finger.

Buttercup hooked her pinky around Brisa’s. “I promise. Now go get dressed and brush your teeth. I’ll check on your dad.”

“Okay!”

Buttercup breezed through the bedroom, chucked Butch his sweat pants with a cautionary “Hide your dick,” and flew out of her paramour’s two-bedroom apartment in downtown Townsville just as Brisa came bursting in excited to start the day.

xxx

The morning was a complete waste of time, and a bitter part of Buttercup lamented not skipping out in favor of staying in bed with Butch.  

“Well, at least nobody died today,” Ty said as he and munched on his doner kebab lunch to go. “Yet.”

Buttercup sucked down half of a water bottle after scarfing down her own lunch. They had stopped at the food truck parked a couple blocks from the precinct, opting for a quick fix as they watched oblivious pedestrians lost to their Air Pods. “Welcome back to active duty, Mr. Brightside.”

Ty chuckled, low and deep. After a few months of healing and rigorous physical therapy, his legs were completely healed and he’d finally been cleared for work that didn’t involve pushing papers at his desk. Once more standing tall with the sun shining off his bald head, Buttercup could not have been happier to have her partner back to his old self by her side.

“You bring it outta me.” Ty winked.

“You ready to head out?” she asked, tossing her wrapper in a corner trashcan. Traffic was shit as usual midday on a Saturday, but they had time before Brisa’s party was slated to start.

“Sure. Lemme just text Melanie.”

Buttercup figured she better catch up with Butch while she waited for Ty and make sure he was on the ball.

[Buttercup: Did you pick up the cake?]

After a few seconds, he replied.

[Butch: Omw with B. You still on clown duty?]

Buttercup groaned at the reminder.

[Buttercup: Can I just say he died and couldn’t make it?]

[Butch: Sure, if you want to crush B’s hopes and dreams 💔😈]

“Kill me.”

“What’s wrong now?” Ty asked.

Buttercup pocketed her phone and led the way to the precinct parking lot where Ty’s car was parked. “Just grappling with some casual childhood trauma coming back to bite me in the ass.”

Ty side-eyed her. “Which one?”

“Ha ha.”

They made it to his red hatchback, and Buttercup slipped into the passenger seat.

“This about Brisa’s birthday party?” Ty asked.

Buttercup groaned again and tugged at her loose hair. “Of all the things, a clown? I thought they were universally considered nightmare fodder for kids these days.”

“Speakin’ of which, I think I remember a psychotic clown attacking Townsville back in the day.”

“You remember correctly.” Buttercup glowered out the window as Ty eased them into traffic toward the Golden Bay Bridge. “But it was the one thing she said she just had to have because some other dumb kid in her class got one for her party.”

“Ah. Six years old and already the social food chain’s tuggin’ on her.”

“Whatever. I never cared about that shit when I was a kid.”

Ty smiled to himself. “Uh-huh.”

Buttercup resigned herself to her unfortunate fate and dialed the company she’d previously contracted to rent a clown for the afternoon. After about five minutes on the phone, she hung up.

“What was that all about?” Ty asked. “Problem?”

Buttercup stared straight ahead as the Golden Bay Bridge’s suspender cables passed her by. “The clown died.”

Ty laughed.

“Ty.” Buttercup looked directly at him. “The guy got hit by a bus on his way to work today and he died.”

Ty shut up. “Oh, uh… Shit.”

A pause.

“I mean, is there another clown, or…?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Buttercup snapped. All she could think of was how Brisa was going to be so upset that the one goddamned thing she had asked for wasn’t going to happen because there was no time to book a new party clown on such short notice on a Saturday.

When Ty shifted in his seat, the leather squeaked loudly in the fuming silence he wisely chose not to break, until he did. “So, should I—”

“Just drive. I’ll think of something…” Buttercup said as she pulled out her phone and tried not to completely lose her shit as she dialed the one person who always seemed to know what to do in a crisis.

“Hey, Blossom,” Buttercup said gravely after her sister picked up. “I think I need some help.”

xxx

When Buttercup and Ty parked in front of her childhood home, guests had already begun arriving. Bubbles was outside greeting people and directing them to the backyard for the festivities. When she spotted Buttercup and Ty, she waved. “Hey, there you are!”

“Have you seen Blossom?” Buttercup asked.

Bubbles pushed up the sleeves of her chunky lavender sweater and looked around. “I think she and Princess were setting up the piñata. Is everything okay—”

Buttercup dashed to the backyard in a blaze of green, leaving Ty to make his way inside at a more sedate pace. The backyard was already teeming with people. Brisa was playing tag with her best friend Richie and a few other kids, while Boomer stacked presents on a table by the back door. Mike and Robin led the day drinking charge by pouring out sangria for the adults and juice for the kids. Buttercup nearly crashed through the green tissue streamers criss-crossing the enclosed backyard in her haste to locate her sister, who was in fact stringing up a red monster-shaped piñata with Princess Morbucks. Or rather, Blossom was doing all the work while Princess held two glasses of bloody sangria and provided live commentary.

“Whoever invented piñatas had the right idea is all I’m saying,” Princess said as she sipped her drink. She was annoyingly chic as usual in designer jeans, dark boots, and a purple silk blouse that probably cost more than the pittance Buttercup’s government paycheck brought in every month.

“You think so?” Blossom said, floating near a high branch so she could toss the suspension rope over it.

“Of course. You’re rewarded with candy for smashing the shit out of your mortal enemy. What could be better than that?”

Blossom grinned. “Mortal enemy in effigy.” She patted the red monster’s snout. “But you’re not wrong.”

“Obviously.” Princess handed her back her sangria, and they shared a knowing laugh.

“Blossom,” Buttercup said.

Blossom smoothed the front of her navy skirt as she turned toward Buttercup. “You’re here. Everything all right?”

Buttercup eyed Princess watching them. “I was going to ask you the same thing. Any progress on the clown front?”

“I’m sorry, the what?” Princess asked.

Blossom’s pink eyes softened, and she put a hand on Buttercup’s shoulder. “I took care of it, don’t worry.”

“Wait, really? How? I called five other rental companies, but everything’s booked solid.”

Blossom’s smile turned devious. “Trust me. Brisa’s going to be very pleased.” Buttercup wanted to argue, but her sister squeezed her shoulder in a silent entreaty. “Just enjoy the party. Boomer, Bubbles, and I have everything under control.”

“Speaking of control,” Princess had her phone out when Blossom turned back to her, “where is that prima donna? He’s not answering any of my texts.”

“Brick’s running a little late,” Blossom said as she led Princess away. “Wardrobe malfunction…”

Their voices faded to the background as Buttercup watched them. Two peas in a fucking pod, and she still didn’t really get what Blossom saw in Princess. If Princess hadn’t played such an integral part in things a couple months back, she would never have given the woman a second thought beyond “Hard pass.”

People, however, had a tendency to surprise when it was down to the wire.

“Heads up, Buttercup!”

Buttercup automatically caught the child hurtling through the air like a tossed water balloon before he could crack his head open.

“O-Oh! Hi, Buttercup,” said Richie, meek and curled in on himself like he’d forgotten he was no longer fragile.

Brisa came dashing over. “Nice catch!”

Buttercup peeled Richie off her and dropped him flat on his ass in the grass. “Brisa, don’t yeet your friends. Bubbles will have an aneurism if she catches you.”

Brisa blushed, abashed. “Sorry…”

Buttercup cracked a smile and winked, and Brisa lit up.

“I’m okay!” Richie, Super resilient, hopped onto his feet and shook out his fluffy blond hair. “Um, does this mean I’m ‘it’ now?”

“No, I wanna play with the clown!” Brisa announced.

Buttercup’s face fell. “Uh, about that…”

Brisa blinked up at her. “He’s coming to my party, right?”

The flicker of doubt that passed through Brisa’s big brown eyes cracked Buttercup’s cold stone heart. She struggled for the words to let her down gently, because whatever Blossom had managed to put together so last minute wasn’t going to be the colorful surprise Buttercup had gone out of her way to book and customize a month in advance.

A round of squeals from the other kids across the yard drew her attention, where they had gathered around Mike at the garden door. “Okay, settle down, kiddos! He’s a little shy. Now, where’s the birthday girl at? Hey, Brisa!”

“C’mon, Brisa, let’s go,” Richie said, tugging on her hand.

But she held her ground and didn’t budge. Buttercup wanted to die.

“Brisa, look,” she began.

The door behind Mike slid open, and out stepped what Buttercup could only describe as her personal revenge fantasy gone morbidly wrong. Brick had never looked so sour in his life.

“Oh! Uh, ta-da!” Mike said hastily as he stepped aside for the person formerly known as Brick until his murder by dishonor.

His steps squeaked in his oversized red shoes, and the striped red and yellow overalls he wore over a polkadot shirt ballooned out at his legs. He looked like a tropical bowling pin. He looked fucking absurd.

“It’s Flameo Hotman! Say hello, kids,” Mike said.

Brick shot Mike a scathing glare that may have incinerated him where he stood if the tiny party hat and enormous red clown nose didn’t ruin the effect. “The hell it is.”

Buttercup had no problem averting her eyes from the literal clownery to focus on Brisa, who was still staring and petrified. Oh shit, oh fuck, she was upset and it was Buttercup’s entire fault—

“Uncle Brick?” Brisa blurted out.

Brick’s lurid eyes passed over Buttercup and landed on Brisa. If Buttercup hadn’t been looking right at him, she would never have believed the way they softened just a little. He pursed his lips and lifted his elastic-tied party hat off his short red hair. It snapped back in place when he let go. “Happy birthday, Brisa.”

Brisa immediately dashed out of Richie’s grip in a sprint too fast to be human and body slammed Brick where he stood. With a grunt, he managed to catch her and keep his balance as she hugged him tight around his inflated waist and laughed. “You look so funny!”

Brick coughed. “Yeah, that’s sort of the point…”

The other kids took that as their cue to also mob Brick, and soon he was adrift in a sea of grubby hands and demands for balloon animals and magic tricks. Buttercup could not believe her eyes. She could hardly remember the last time she saw Brick dressed anything other than to the nines, and now…

“Fuck me,” she wheezed, too stunned even to laugh, it was that heinous.

“Pretty good, huh?” Bubbles sidled up to her with a wrapped present for Brisa under her arm.

Buttercup swallowed hard. She didn’t trust her voice as she watched Brick—Brick—snap at Brisa’s friends to line up in an orderly fashion if they wanted their faces painted, and no cutting the line or there would be consequences.

“The costume’s a little janky, but I didn’t have a lot of notice when Blossom told me we needed something colorful for him to wear,” Bubbles went on.

“Why?” Buttercup croaked. She turned to her baby sister, who seemed totally nonchalant existing in a universe where the selfish clown Blossom had chosen to keep for reasons Buttercup could not sympathize with deigned to dress as a literal fucking clown.

Bubbles slipped her hand in Buttercup’s and squeezed affectionately as they watched Brick paint the requested unicorn on Richie’s face as seriously as if it were a goddamned Monet. “I think this is his way of trying,” she said.

Buttercup would never forget that day two months ago when Butch asked her to come over after Brick had broken down and apologized to Boomer and him and all he wanted to do was break something, to feel it shatter in his hands, so why not her, who couldn’t break? That fight had been one of their most brutal, even compared to their rows in high school in the throes of raging hormones exacerbated by Chemical X.

They hadn’t spoken as they rinsed the dirt and sweat from each other after—Buttercup had been worried about setting him off again after he had settled into some sort of quiet serenity with his fingers in her hair, pulling the tangles out under the warm water like an artist honing his craft. Those hands were always working, always looking for something to crush.

“You ever love someone, but you don’t like them?” he’d asked her as she wrung the water from her hair and he stared at his hollow-eyed reflection in the mirror.

Buttercup was pulled from the memory when Blossom came out of the house to snap pictures on her phone of the kids with their painted faces, a bright smile on her face as Brick continued to ignore the entire world and focus on his task with surprisingly minimal complaint. Buttercup supposed that if anyone could dress like an ass-backwards buffoon and maintain some pretense of dignity, it was Brick.

“Yeah, I guess,” she said at length. She squeezed Bubbles’ hand back.

He’s trying something, all right.

xxx

“I want a dog, please!” asked a snot-nosed kid inexplicably dressed in a full dinosaur suit.

Butch watched Brick from the picnic table he’d plopped down on with a cold beer and three entire pizza boxes set aside entirely for Boomer and himself.

Brick frowned so deeply he looked like he was trying to pass a hardened turd. Wordless, he blew up a long red balloon, tied it off at the end, and handed it to the little boy. “Here.”

The kid accepted the unfolded balloon with quizzical look. “Huh? This isn't a dog.”

“Yeah, it is,” Brick said. “It’s a hot dog.”

“But that’s not what I asked—hey!” The kid squealed when Brick squirted him with water from the rubber flower on his overall strap.

“Next,” Brick said in a tone that promised medieval torture.

Cowed, the dinosaur kid slumped away with his shitty balloon, and the next little girl in line made her request.

“It had to be a bet,” Butch said grimly as he watched his brother pawn a “magic wand” on the little girl who asked for a monkey. She trudged off with the unfolded purple balloon and look in her eyes like she’d seen the hidden darkness of this world.

Boomer shrugged and swallowed a bite of pizza. He had his back to Brick, but he spared a glance over his shoulder. “I don’t know.”

“I mean, he’s gotta know the pictures will live on forever. This is unlimited blackmail.”

That got a little chuckle out of Boomer. Butch ruffled his bangs too roughly to be entirely affectionate, and Boomer swatted him away. “Dude, my hair.”

“Want me to get you a balloon dick?”

Boomer’s gaze flickered to him, and for a moment Butch was transported back twenty years to Mojo’s Observatory. He and Boomer were sometimes left by themselves while Mojo and Brick tinkered in the old man’s lab well into the night with nothing to do and no one to talk to but each other. On nights like that, Butch didn’t really mind it when Boomer crawled into his bunk and fell asleep there. The room always felt a little colder and darker without Brick there.

“I’m fine,” Boomer said.

Butch searched his eyes, blue and expressive and always shining like he might cry or laugh. He had always envied Boomer that ability to project, to offer a connection, even if it was only pain. He’d always been good at that.

“Really,” Boomer added, hardening his gaze like a fucking mind reader. “I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.” Butch wondered how long it would take for that to be true. “You know, it’s been a couple months—”

“Butch,” Boomer said, cold like he never was.

Butch hopped off the table and put a hand on Boomer’s shoulder. “It’s been a couple months, but it’s not a race. There’s no finish line to cross.”

Boomer chuckled, but it sounded kind of like a wheeze. His hand was cool on Butch’s where he squeezed him. “Thanks, Butch.”

Butch patted his back. As he was leaving, heard Boomer call, “Make mine blue.”

Butch chuckled. “Sure.”

Fucking sap.

At least Butch wasn’t the only one.

He made his way to the terrace, where Brick was set up with balloons and the face painting station. When Brick noticed his brother waiting in line, the balloon he was inflating went up in flames and disintegrated to ashes, leaving him looking as flushed as his stupid clown nose.

“I’m out of balloons, kids. Go dig a hole or something,” he said to the remaining two children.

“Huh? But there’s a whole bag—” one little boy with enormous glasses started to say.

Brick fired his laser eye beams at the bag of balloons and blew it up. “What bag?”

The kids stalked off in a sulk, and Butch sauntered up to the chair Bubbles had brought out from the kitchen table.

“Bitch move,” he said, plopping down. “I promised Boomer I’d bring him a blue cock, made special with love.”

“Uh-huh,” Brick said. He watched Butch with those shifty red eyes like he might lash out and attack him.

Amused and a little nervous, Butch sank into the chair with much bravado and man-spreading. “Paint me like one of your French girls.”

Brick narrowed his eyes, but he picked up the paints and sat down in the opposite chair without a word, until: “What do you want?”

“I dunno, something cool. A rocket ship.”

Silence. Brick leaned in close to apply the paint with a thin brush, meticulous and anal like he was with everything he did. Butch didn’t have to see his face to know he was concentrating way too hard.

“I can feel the vibrations of you clenching your asshole from here,” Butch said. “Relax.”

“I’m relaxed.”

“Fuck off.”

Brick put down the brush. “If you keep talking, this is going to turn out shitty.”

Butch shut up. Brick resumed painting.

After a moment, Butch closed his eyes. There was something soothing about the soft scrape of the brush against his cheek. Behind his eyelids, he saw a much younger version of Brick covered in paint and grinning fiercely, king of the world, until Butch hit him with his paintball gun right in the kisser. Green paint exploded everywhere, and Boomer fell on his ass laughing. Brick angrily wiped the paint from his eyes in a goopy mess and lobbed it back at Butch, who was too far gone to care. Rolling on the grass and covered in paint, he couldn’t remember a happier afternoon spent with his brothers and Mojo. At least, not until Brisa came along.

Butch sucked in a breath as he opened his eyes and dispelled that trance-like memory. Brick didn’t even snap at him when he turned his head to look right at him. His face was pinched: his mouth too thin and his eyes too wide as he waited for another pot shot to the face.

“You look stupid,” Butch said.

“I know,” Brick said.

“Really fucking stupid.”

Brick’s eye twitched. “I know.”

“Thanks.”

Brick swallowed. “It’s her birthday.”

“Yeah, but I’m your brother. So thanks.”

It was not often that Brick was flabbergasted, but the dude looked like someone had just grabbed him by his oversized red nose. Butch burst into a sly smirk and did just that. To his sadistic satisfaction, it squeaked when he squeezed it.

“Honk honk, motherfucker,” Butch said.

It took Brick all of two seconds to ditch his bewilderment and swat Butch’s hand away. “Shit head.”

“Clown.”

To Butch’s immense surprise, Brick let him have the last word. Well, damn. He chuckled and leaned back in the chair so Brick could finish painting his cheek. Two months and he barely saw the guy on purpose, and now this.

“I’m burning every picture Blossom took today,” Brick said at length.

Butch chuckled. “You forgot about the cloud.”

“I’m burning that too.”

“Now you’re just being a whiny bitch.”

“Wipe Bubbles’ phone and I’ll pay you.”

“Eh, maybe just grab a beer sometime.” It came out so naturally that he didn’t even think about it. Brick, too, was taken aback. The more he saw it today, the less Butch liked that surprised look in his older brother’s eyes. It was fucking weird. “Seriously. It’s been a minute.”

Brick didn’t move. He didn’t even breathe. “Yeah, cool.”

“Cool.”

Cool.

“Hold on, almost done,” Brick said, and grabbed Butch’s chin to turn his face.

Butch’s eyes found Brisa running around with a large, green balloon crown on her head and her cheeks painted with rainbows, and his gaze softened. It was almost time for cake.

“Done,” Brick announced.

Before Butch could reply to that, there was a small commotion at the backyard gate with Bubbles, who followed a very short, very hairy monkey inside.

“Grandpa Mojo?” Brisa stopped playing with her friends to greet the old monkey. He had a box with a green bow on top so perfectly wrapped a department store may have done it. His arms were rigid as they held it out and Bubbles hovered just behind him, watchful.

“Good afternoon, Brisa. I have procured you a gift to celebrate, rejoice, and otherwise partake in various forms of merriment on this day of your birth, which is to say, your birthday, thus, the day you were born.”

Nearby, Blossom paused picking up trash with Robin to eye Mojo askance, nonchalant in that low key frightening I-will-blow-your-dick-off way she had. Buttercup was chatting away with Mitch Mitchelson and Clara Clearly, but she too had eyes only for Mojo.

Brisa blushed cutely, suddenly shy. “Thank you.” She accepted the gift and looked between Mojo and Bubbles. “Um, will you stay for cake?”

Mojo’s green skin turned a ghastly shade of pink. It took a Butch a moment to realize he was blushing. He was sure he had never seen Mojo blush before.

Mojo cleared his throat. “I do not eat cake,” he said with finality.

“Oh…” Brisa clutched her new gift to her chest.

“But, I suppose… I could sample a beverage while I am here. A guest ought not turn away hospitality when it is offered.”

Brisa just smiled brightly and reached for Mojo’s crusty old paw. “I have juice. Oh! And you have to stay for the piñata. Have you met Richie? He’s my best friend in the whole world!”

“I do not think—” Mojo lost his words as he was pulled along by his Super granddaughter whether he liked it or not.

“Hey.”

Brick’s hand on Butch’s shoulder exerting Super pressure made him looked down at his hands, which sparked with green power. He clenched his fists and fizzled it out.

“You good?” Brick asked, low and grave.

Butch sniffled. “Yeah, I’m good. Habit.” He paused, then: “I invited him. Boomer said it was fine.”

Brick nodded. “Okay.”

Butch’s stupid heart clenched. “I meant to text you—”

“Blossom told me. It’s fine, drop it.”

He should have dropped it. Two months ago he would have, happily. What the fuck did it matter now when it never had growing up? But that was two months ago. “Don’t fucking do that.”

Brick frosted over and got up. “Do what.”

“Hey.” Butch grabbed him by his ridiculous overalls. “You and me. No girls. Battle and beers, like the old days.”

Brick was a cold hard bastard, but even he had his cracks, and right now he broke like an egg, slack-jawed and lame.

“Tomorrow,” Butch said.

Brick nodded numbly. “Tomorrow.”

Butch smirked and got up to leave, but Brick’s voice stopped him one last time.

“Thanks, Butch.”

“Sure.”

“Tell Boomer it’s a consolation.”

“Huh?”

But he got nothing more out of Brick once Blossom and Princess showed up.

“Oh. My. God. Wait, let’s take a selfie.” Princess managed to get her arm around Brick’s neck, but he snatched her phone before she could take a picture.

“No fucking way, Princess,” he said.

Blossom grabbed his chin and kissed him right there, shameless. It was enough to distract him so Princess could reclaim her phone. “You know, I kind of like you as a clown.”

“I don’t.” Princess managed to snap a picture of Brick and Blossom. “But you’re pulling off the striped overalls, I have to say.”

“Burn that.” Brick advanced, but Blossom pulled him back with a laugh.

“Why so serious, Brick?” she teased.

Princess stuck her tongue out at him.

Butch left them to their childish shit; it was time for cake, and he had a brand new six-year-old to impress.

xxx

Buttercup was having a surprisingly good time. Between pizza with Butch and Boomer, hanging out with her sisters, and the everlasting memories that were clown Brick saved to her iCloud where he would never find them, today was turning out surprisingly well. Butch caught her eye across the yard and gestured inside, so she excused herself from the conversation with Ty and his sister to followed him.

He was in the kitchen when she found him.

“Hey, doll. Cornering me for dirty kitchen sex?” he teased.

Buttercup laughed at the sight of him, two percent bravado and ninety-eight percent imbecile. “Let me grab you a glass of water for that thirst.”

The cake he’d bought sat in a box in the fridge with Brisa’s name scribbled on the lid. Buttercup brought it out and set it on the counter. Then, she hunted for the colorful party platter Bubbles kept for special occasions.

Butch’s arms slipped around her waist from behind, and he pressed his nose to her loose hair. “Mm, you smell like pepperoni.”

“Eat my dick,” Buttercup said.

“I like it.”

“I bet you do, you horny carnivore.”

“Nooo, not the dirty talk,” he whined, pressing a kiss to her neck and pulling her back against him.

Buttercup fought against her growing smile as she opened the cake box and transferred the treat to the platter. “You need rehab.”

“If that’s your kink.”

Buttercup snorted. “Shut up and help me with this.”

They loaded up the chocolate cake on the platter, and Buttercup found the candles in a drawer.

“Got some shit on your nose,” Butch said.

“What?” He dabbed his chocolate frosted finger on the tip of her nose the moment she turned toward him, and she swatted his hand away. “Oh, come on. What are you, five?” She wiped the frosting from her nose and licked her finger clean.

No sooner had she finished than he grabbed her chin and kissed her deeply. In the quiet of the kitchen with no one around to see them, Buttercup gave into feeling and curled her fingers in his flannel shirt. When he smiled against her like the swooning buffoon he’d always been at heart, she laughed and pulled him closer.

His hands found their way over the curve of her ass, as they always did, and pulled her against him with a squeeze. “Fuck, I want you.”

“You always want me.”

“Have you seen your ass? You’d want you too.” He gave her another squeeze, and she had to bite her lip to stifle a moan.

Buttercup slipped her fingers through his hair, full and soft on top and shorn short behind the ears. For a moment, they simply stared at each other as Buttercup marveled at how much she wanted this, wanted him. She had never wanted anyone as much as she wanted him, so badly she could feel it threatening to tear her in two.

“You have all this power,” he murmured, soft like it was a precious secret he clung to.

Buttercup could have laughed at how much he underestimated his own power of her. “Back at you.”

“No.” He touched his forehead to hers and breathed like they finally had time. “Not like you. Not like this.” His hand moved to her waist as if to lead her in a dance. “You have me, Buttercup.”

Buttercup’s eyes burned with a foreign heat, unwelcome. Butch used to scare her when he spoke to her like this; now, she could only bite her lip and wait for the threat of tears to pass. “Back at you,” she said again, shaky and so fucking grateful.

They stayed that way a moment, in the kitchen of her childhood home with the warm smell of chocolate and the low din of the party outside, and for the first time that day, Buttercup felt the tension ease from her shoulders.

“By the way,” Butch said, his eyes still closed and his forehead still pressed against her, “I’m fucking the shit out of you when we get back to my place.”

Buttercup smirked. “Great example you’re setting for your daughter.”

“I got her new headphones with noise canceling.”

“She’s going to notice if we break the tub again.”

“There’s a hose. She can bathe with that.”

“Just pressure wash her like a truck.”

“Fast, efficient, and it’ll save on the water bill.”

“You don’t even pay for water, the landlord does.”

“Hey, I’m a good Samaritan lookin’ out for my neighbors.”

“Screw the neighbors.” Buttercup ran her fingers over his lips, down his chin to his chest, where his heart thundered under her touch. “I want you to fuck the shit out of me.”

Butch laughed hoarsely. “Maybe I should ask Boomer to take Brisa tonight.”

They parted, and Buttercup was about to tell him to grab the cake while she hunted for a knife when she finally noticed his cheek. “Did Brick do that?”

“The rocket ship? Yeah, good excuse to talk to him.”

“A rocket ship, huh?” Buttercup smiled so brightly her cheeks began to hurt. “That was nice of him.”

Butch gave her a weird look. “Whatever, we’re hanging out tomorrow. After today, I figure he can use it.”

Buttercup’s throat wrenched as she tried her best not to burst out laughing. “Don’t quote me, but he sort of saved my ass today. The other clown died.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious, he literally died.”

“Wow, party almost ruined.”

“I mean, also a man is dead.”

“Oh, shit, yeah you’re right. Sorry. I guess don’t tell Brisa.”

Buttercup rolled her eyes. “Jesus Christ. Grab that cake and don’t drop it.”

xxx

Brisa grinned to the point of bursting as everyone sang Happy Birthday to her and she blew out her candles. Cake went by in a breeze as the kids screamed about presents next. Like some hot, pink angel, Blossom took charge of the activities with Robin’s and Buttercup’s assistance and made sure the kids were thoroughly entertained so that Butch could eat his cake and watch his little girl enjoy her special day.

Now, seated on the picnic table again with Boomer and Bubbles, he dug into the slice Bubbles said she couldn’t finish.

“Hey, Butch,” Boomer said, chill.

“Yeah?” Butch asked.

“Why’s there a huge dick on your face?”

“Huh?”

On Butch’s other side, Bubbles poked his painted cheek. “It’s a very proportionate dick. Good dimensions.”

Boomer wheezed into his beer. Butch choked on his cake. At the next table over, Brick, that soggy ballsack, stood chatting with Princess Morbucks and Mike Believe still in his full clown regalia sipping sangria through a bendy straw. The moment he felt Butch’s eyes on him, he grinned maliciously around his straw.

“Motherfucker—” Butch tried to get up, but Bubbles grabbed his wrist.

“Language, Butch. There are children around,” she sang, cheerful as a fucking bell.

Butch pointed at Brick. “You—you clown!”

“Hey, that’s Flameo Hotman to you,” said Mike, with all the confidence of someone who didn’t know he was about to be drop-kicked in the face.

Princess squinted at Butch. “Is that a cock on your face?”

“It sure is,” Boomer said, mid-heart attack.

“Daddy, come hit the piñata with me!” Brisa came bounding over with a stick and a blindfold.

“Great timing, Brisa!” Bubbles shoved Butch way too hard toward his overeager daughter, and he had no choice but to accept the stick and blindfold.

“Uh, right,” he stammered, trying to reign it in. It was her birthday; Brick and his dick pic clownery could wait.

A hand on Butch’s shoulder squeezed too hard to be entirely friendly, and he turned to get a face full of said clown.

“Honk honk, motherfucker,” Brick said under his breath.

Butch raised his hand to decapitate his brother right there, but Brisa yanked him with her Super strength, and he had no choice but to let it lie.

The sight of Buttercup nearby watching him take his place at the piñata should have mollified him, but she had let him walk out of that kitchen dick pic’d, a betrayal of the highest order…and a quality prank, if he was honest.

He’d let his guard down around her.

It was his own mistake, underestimating her.

The heat of a challenge in her eyes as she watched him lift the blindfold to his eyes set fire to his blood. After all was said and done today and Butch left Brisa with Brick because fuck his fancy Saturday plans, Butch would take Buttercup’s advice and screw the neighbors. Tonight they were putting on a show.

With a self-satisfied grin, Butch lowered the blindfold, readied the stick, and imagined the red piñata was Brick in his ridiculous clown nose.

xxx

Hm, seeding the future Buttercup and Brick friendship I’ve been waiting so long to dive into for this universe? It’s more likely than you think. 👀

Thank you so much for reading! Long live the clown cult (Blossom ghostwrote this). 🤡