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imagine-loki · 4 years

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Soulbonds and Fairy Dust

TITLE: Soulbonds and Fairy Dust (rewrite) CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 27/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine one of the fae has been helping the Avengers, jumping in to help them on missions and vanishing before Shield can bring her in. Loki joins the team and convinces her to come talk to the team and consider joining before Shield takes more drastic measures. RATING: M NOTES/WARNINGS: This is a rewrite of the original work of the same name. Also on AO3 here

Loki pulled his horse to a stop and Sigyn was forced to follow suit. The two of them were at the back of the group, so it took Thor and his idiot friends a few paces to realize they’d stopped. They slowed their horses, to wait for Sig and Loki to catch up. Somehow the morons seemed to realize that they were in the middle of an important conversation and didn’t come interrupt or eavesdrop. Which was frankly amazing.

Loki had a serious look on his face when he turned to Sig. “Explain,” he ordered her firmly, his voice nearly icy. He softened a little when he added “Please.” He did try to remember that he was talking with his soulmate.

Sig didn’t quickly know what explanation he was asking for, but she started talking anyway. She didn’t want to upset him, and he really did deserve the truth. “I told you the Gray Lords are the most powerful of the fae. I have the magical power and physical fighting ability to qualify. I was ‘awarded’ the title when I came of age…” she was leaving a lot out, but that was the bare bones of it. Loki reevaluated the scars she hadn’t been coherent enough to hide back behind her illusions after closing the doorway. She wondered what he was looking at and blushed when she saw her arms and realized her scars were visible. She quickly threw her illusions back into place. She looked exactly the same, but minus the old battle scars from her fighting for her life for her entire life.

Loki didn’t comment, though she knew he’d question her about the scars later. Instead he asked: “So you technically have a noble standing among the fae?” he was trying to get his head around what a Gray Lord was.

She nodded her agreement. “I do. I was the first new Gray Lord in at least 500 years,” she added as if that mattered.

Loki looked impressed anyway, though he didn’t really understand. He considered more implications of Sig being among the Gray Lords. “Will they try and bring you back to Underhill?” he asked. That was the biggest concern at the moment.

Sig considered, then nodded again. “It looks really bad on the court that one of the Gray Lords abandoned Underhill in preference of the mortal realms…” she explained. It really did look bad on them that she’d left. They’d been searching for her since she had, which is why she’d had to hide on Midgard. The court also wanted her powers and skills for themselves. They weren’t going to let her stay free easily.

“When, in reality, they know you aren’t truly fae? That you were born an Asgardian goddess?”

“I don’t think they realized that I’m an Asgardian goddess. They don’t know much about Asgard. And probably assumed only the royal family receives godhead,” she explained with a shrug. She hadn’t known until Odin had announced hers that she was a goddess. She owed Loki another explanation, though. “Also the Gray Lords are higher ranked than simple nobility,” she told him. “We’re the princes and princesses of the fae, at least in terms as you would understand them,”

Loki nodded, accepting her explanation. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“Probably a lot of things, but none urgent,” she replied with a smirk. Of course there were tons more things he probably needed to know. She just couldn’t think what they were at the moment.

“Will you tell me when we get back to the palace?” he asked, misunderstanding what she meant.

“I just meant that I’m sure there are things I’m not thinking of that you ought to know or would want to know. I’ll tell you if or when they become important or come to me,” she told him warmly.

“Alright. I can agree to that,”

“Did she just say she’s a fairy princess?” Fandral demanded loudly. Apparently they’d wandered back close enough to eavesdrop. Sig blushed and got shy again, curling in on herself.

Loki glared at Fandral. “Would you shut up, you imbecile?” he snarled, jumping to defend his soulbond.

“But she’s a fairy princess!!” Fandral protested loudly as if it really mattered what her rank was. Or that she was half fae.

“She is of nobility in two different realms. What of it?” he asked Fandral as if Fandral was stupid. He was correct of course. Thor’s moronic friends were morons. Fandral most especially.

Sig groaned since she saw the childlike glee on Fandral’s face. He was annoying and obsessed with the fact that he thought this was some kind of fairy tale. “The courts of the fae are nothing like the fairy stories we were told as children, you moron,” she glared at him. She had to get this point across to him now before he did something stupid. “Do you really think I would have gone through so much to escape if they were? Now kindly shut up about it before I let Loki stab you,” she growled. She was uncomfortable drawing so much attention or being so firm, but he had to know. It was important.

Loki smirked, looking proud of Sig. “You should listen to her, Fandral. I’m about ready to stab you anyway,” he added the last nonchalantly. He was just so casual about the prospect of stabbing his brother’s moronic friend. Sig didn’t blame him. At all.

Fandral wisely shut up.

The group rode for awhile longer and reached the area of the fourth gate midmorning. Sig put her book away as she got near, since she could sense potential danger from the fae better than any of the others. She noted that Loki was sticking close to her. He was worried after the previous day and how drained she’d been after the last gate.

“There’s nothing waiting for us,” she told the party as they approached. She was still nervous. She didn’t trust the apparent safety of this gate. After the last two were so well protected, it seemed strange that this one was unguarded. Just because Tilly was allowing her to close the gates, it didn’t mean she was going to be making it easy on Sig. That wasn’t how Tilly did things. It also didn’t mean the fae were going to let her, or would make it easy on her if they did.

Loki noticed her nerves and gave her a reassuring smile. “We will remain on guard, don’t worry, Sig,”

“I don’t like this, not after the last two doorways being so well guarded,” she confessed as she dismounted. They were close enough to the doorway that she needed to walk the rest of the way. The group dismounted to walk with her.

Loki stuck close to her side. “I’ll be right beside you the whole time,” he promised. Sig could tell that he understood her worry. He would do anything and everything to keep her safe while she dealt with the doorways.

The whole group stood around her and the doorway, weapons drawn and alert for danger as she sliced her palm open, summoning the power she needed to close the doorway. She spread her blood across both of her palms and gripped the edges of the doorway and tried to pull it closed. It wouldn’t budge no matter how much she tugged on it. She cursed loudly and in multiple languages as she let the power fade. It wouldn’t close and wasting power wouldn’t fix anything.

She turned to the group. “I have to go through. There’s something on the other side holding the door open,” she told them while they were all staring in awe at her ability to curse like a sailor. That wasn’t something typical of Asgardian ladies.

Loki looked nervous. He did not want her going into Underhill when the fae were desperate to get her back to rule in the seelie court. “Can anyone go with you?” he asked her gently. He wouldn’t let she face the danger along, not if there was anything he could do about it.

Sig considered that and finally nodded. “I can take two through with me safely,” she told Loki. She also knew that he needed to determine who was coming with her. “Whoever trusts me the most, or whoever you want to come with us, Trickster,” she told Loki. He would feel better being able to choose who came with the pair of them. Of course, he was going to be one of the two she brought through with her. Thor would be the other one he trusted.

They were also much too close to Underhill and the creatures living on the other side to use his name or any variation of it. Or any of their names.

Loki nodded and didn’t even consider before he turned to Thor. “Brother, would you be willing to come with us?” he trusted Thor with his life, and more importantly, with Sig’s and her safety. He had fought side by side with Thor for centuries and while they didn’t always get along, the two fought well together.

Thor nodded immediately. “Of course,” he replied automatically. He seemed offended that Loki had even thought he had to ask. Thor looked to his friends. “Guard the gate on this end,” he told them firmly as he gripped Mjolnir more securely in his hand.

Sig looked them both over. She hesitated a moment for what she needed to do next to protect the three of them, but she steeled herself to get it done. “I don’t know what’s waiting for us on the other side. I can give us some additional safeguards, if you trust me,” she told them both. She turned her attention to Loki “and if you don’t mind if I borrow a little power,” she could use Asgardian magic for what she needed to and she knew Loki would rather she use his magic than drain herself more trying to use her own.

Loki offered her his hand without any hesitation. “Take what you need,” he seemed relieved to be able to help her in any way, shape, or form.

She took his hand and after a small nod of thanks, used his power to cast illusions on the boys. It took a surprisingly little amount of power, mostly due to her own skill and experience. She lengthened their hair braided down past their shoulders, pointed their ears, changed their eye colors to tri-colored. She let the feel of fae magic surround them, disguising them as fae. “That should help at least until we know what we’re dealing with,” she told them. She couldn’t help appreciate how handsome they looked, disguised as fae. She was so used to being surrounded by handsome fae men and this felt familiar to her. “Remember, don’t use any of our names while we’re there. Not even nicknames. It’s too dangerous when they’re looking for me,” she reminded them firmly. When they nodded their agreement, she took Thor’s hand too. She had to have physical contact with them to escort them safely through the doorway. “Ready?” she asked them. They both nodded and let her take the lead.

Sig kept a firm grip on both of their hands to lead them through the doorway. She couldn’t let them go until they were all safely through. Time and locations could get a little wibbly-wobbly when non-fae traveled through the doorways. It was best to have a fae escort.

Sig hoped whatever was waiting for them on the other side wasn’t too awful for the three of she to handle and was beyond grateful that she didn’t have to face this challenge alone.

She never had to be alone anymore.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #Soulbonds and Fairy Dust #chapter 27 #rewrite #nekoamamori

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bitchfitch · 3 years

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fluffy tpth spoilers/pseudo fanfic below the cut

Some days at the Burrow were constant high octane adrenaline or endless vibrant hedonism, others left Hound floating on a vague sort of grief, and others yet were calm and quiet; to a point they verged on feeling normal. Like there wasn't still a slight disconnect from life within the Burrow's walls and life outside it.

Today was thankfully one of those peaceful days.

Hound was sat in his chair with his feet kicked up on the coffee table beside his mug and the days newspaper in his hands. He could hear Roger tearing something up in his pen in the other room, and the sounds of traffic would sometimes cut through the thin walls, his paper would rustle as the oscillating fan turned his way or when he flipped the page, even the fan's own quiet whirring contributing to this orchestra of comfortable mundanity.

Occasionally, one of the chairs in the kitchen would creek as Prints shifted in his seat, slowly doing something or another with his and Lop's jackets. The quiet sounds of him toiling away being the only remimder that Hound was not alone in this little piece of normality.

Hound knew better than to ask what he was up to. Prints would tell him in his own time. So for now his job was to just provide quiet companionship. He thought that of all his duties, of all the duties he has ever had, either willfully, or forced, or grown, this was the one he could carry on with endlessly.

Lop had gone to visit her family and Hare and Coney had gone out for the weekend to some convention or another, leaving just Hound and Prints home alone.

Maybe Hound should invite Prints to dinner? Prints usually only accepted outright shows of affection from Hound after the others had had their turn, something all of them had often gotten after Prints about. None of them had a finite amount of love to dole out, so Prints didn't need to always let the others go first. Maybe, while the others were gone, Prints would let Hound dote on him in the gentle, subtle way Prints liked but would rarely accept?

Hound turned to find the advertisement page, just to see if there was anywhere especially promising. Yes, just using his phone to look this up would yield more complete results, but there would always be something to finding the right place written out in black on sharp smelling off white pages. No where new jumped out at him, but there was a coupon for that thai place Prints had a love-hate relationship with. Yeah, that would do just fine.

Prints broke the quiet before Hound could.

"We need to get married," Prints said without looking up from the jacket he was working on,

For a moment Hounds brain struggles to catch up as the words strike into place. Had Prints really said That? "Sorry, Did you just propose to me?" Hound put his paper down on his lap as he turns his full attention to Prints. Of all the ways he expected their theoretical engagement to happen-

"No, I stated a fact. We need to get married," Prints said it like he was reporting on whether beige or taupe was a better color, like it was boring, and nothing of note. Not like he just sent Hounds heart pounding faster than that time he got shot,

"I'm sorry Rabbit, but I need you to walk me through this one," Hound rubbed under his eyes as he tried to play catch up,

"The others have already promised that if anything were to go wrong and one of them was caught, they would throw me under the bus. Say I coerced them into doing everything they did and that they feared me and had no other choice," Prints put down his needle and picked up his scissors to clip a thread, his voice still bored as he explained his reasoning,"That won't work if you get caught. You had the resources to take us down without injury to yourself, and with the promise of being seen as a hero, and still chose not to do it. You are an absolute mountain of a man who could have easily overpowered me if it came down to fists, you have no personal connections for me to have threatened," Prints made sure to turn a vaguely annoyed glare Hounds way before continuing, "And I know you wouldn't be smart about it even if you could. Which is why we need to get married. I can't trust you to take care of yourself, so I have to make sure you don't have to,"

"Sorry, for loving you to much to villainize you?" Hound scoffed in disbelief, "But, Prints, do you only want to get married so that I can't be made to testify against you?" Hound tried to hide the hurt that came from rejection. Was this really rejection? It sure felt like it, or at least it felt like finding out that one of the four people he would die for didn't want to marry him nearly as much as he wanted them to marry,

"It's just a fact," Prints huffed. He turned his attention back to the coat in his hands, quietly pouting at it with a tight jaw and his shoulders slumping forward, "Never mind, I shouldn't have brought it up," He was practically growing thorns as he turned in on himself, almost visibly putting up a wall between himself and Hound,

"Then why did you?" Hound asked, he could see Prints was hurting, and knowing Prints, there was the very real possibility that he wanted more than he was letting on,

"Lop's Sister is getting married. She texted me about it this morning and it's just been on my mind," He didn't look at hound as he spoke, but he wasn't really back to focusing on the jacket either,

Hound sighed as he stood from his chair, he knew why Prints always refused to ask for anything for himself, but it still hurt to see him tearing himself up over something like this. Hound sat in the seat beside him, and took one of his hands in his own. He brushed his thumbs over Prints' knuckles as they both sat in silence, Prints kept his eyes down as he waited, "Prints, yes or no on this one, would it make you happy if we got married?" Lowell kept his tone as neutral as he could even as his heart thundered away behind his ribs,

"Yeah," Prints said, his voice low and quiet as he cracked a little at the tenderness,

"Would it make you happy if I proposed? Or would you prefer to propose to me?"

"You don't have to-"

"I don't have to do anything," Hound interrupted "I'm asking because I would like to marry you, but I'm an old man who wants to be a little traditional about this. So I'd like there to be a proposal, and a proper wedding, or as proper as we can manage given," Hound gestured vaguley with his free hand, "Everything. So, Prints, Do you want to propose or can I?"

"What about the others, they would be-" He started trying to drag up reasons to deny himself this,

"We will talk about this with them when they get home. But, that's beside the point," Hound, squeezed his hand gently, just enough to reasure, "This is about us, If we want to get married we can,"

"No it's not. They- I know they would want you to propose to them too. Or Coney and Lop would, Hare would want to be the one to propose, And obviously they might want to marry eachother too, but we're still working on the polyamory laws, and all five of us-"

"Prints," Hound laughed under his breath, "You, Lop, and Coney are all legally dead. And my name showing up on a marriage license would definitely catch too much attention to be safe. The lot of us would have to figure it out more in terms of how the honeymoons will work than how we do this legally," he squeezed Prints' hand, "I love you, and I love them, and as far as I'm concerned, there's no reason I can't be a husband to all of you,"

"You'd want the honeymoons to be separate?"

"I want a week with each of you, just to relish you each and prove exactly how good of a husband I can be. We'd rent a condo out in one of the smaller towns and play normal for a while we did it, and then at the end of it I'd want all four of you. For us to just have a week where I know for certain all of my rabbits are safe and happy and where we can forget about our work and just be people for a little bit," he smiles at Prints, "We can make this work, you just have to let it,"

"How long have you been thinking about this?" Prints asks quietly, "I… I'm having trouble with this,"

"This is something good, and good things aren't common in our lives," Hound says, "You, out of all of us, have had so few good things stay good, that it doesn't surprise me at all that this is hard to swallow," he shrugs, "And I've been thinking about it since that night on the roof top. Id been here Burrow for only a few days and after actually getting to meet you all and get to know you. I realized that I loved all of you and didn't know if I could ever choose, and I felt like the most selfish ass in existence for wanting you all,

"You came up and we sat together, and I will never forget how handsome you looked there, and how badly I needed you in my life and in my arms." He could still feel the pangs in his chest that had come with that revelation, "And that hurt so bad because I thought that if I had you, I couldn't have any of the others." Hound smiled softly "You were the one to call me a "big fucking idiot" for thinking that. I've wanted to marry all of you since then," he confessed,

"I want you to do it," Prints says after a brief moment as he finally turns to look at Hound, his big round eyes, puppy dog brown, unguarded and vulnerable. Asking for something like this was hard, and Hound couldn't be more proud of him for doing it,

"Give me a a few days to get everything ready. We're taking this next tuesday off so I can make an event out of this for you," He can't stop the stupid grin that crosses his face as he presses a kiss to Prints' temple before standing to start figuring this out, "I love you so much, Bunny"

"Love you too, Dog Breath," Prints laughed as he turned back to his work, still smiling as he started stiching again.

#they're in love #also does it count as a spoiler to mention they get together in the end?#like this is a romance Of course Lowell ends up as the titular hound #but idk #anyways im proud of this #like i doubt this scene would ever happen #in like the actual show #but it was still nice to write something this fluffy for them #im calling this a pseudo fanfic bc its in a fanfic style instead of an og fiction style #and also its my story lmaoo

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mrneighbourlove · 4 years

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Burnt Heart: Ch 6. Trading One Pain for Another

At the Hylian Kingdom's castle, a Hasai in armour gave the King of Hyrule a respectful bow. His militia waited outside castle grounds for him to return, and he had traveled a long way to do arrive to this country. Before he could start his mission, the Hasai wanted to be civil and cordially with the Hylian government. Would make things easier in the long run. "King Covarog. My name is Agent Hresvelg. As a member of the Dorami tribe to the Hasai people, I'm tasked in arresting criminals and securing runaways for her majesty, Emperor Zannah. I am here with a squad of Theron to acquire one such runaway. I ask for your blessing to bring back a Hasai hiding away here in Hyrule. I promise that lethal force, or even use of weaponry or magic will not be used unless absolutely necessary. We will be in and out without being even a nuisance to the lives of your people. Is this information to your liking?"

Covarog wanted to have his wife makeup some excuse that he could not be here at this meeting. He always hated dealing with diplomatic issues pertaining to Zannah. Even over the years, he still could not shake the feeling that the Empress was always up to no good. Still, he remained somewhat civil. So, when his wife dragged him tot he throne room, he did his best to be... cordial.

"A criminal or a runaway?" Covarog repeated. "You must understand my surprise. The Empire has such strict rules and regulations, that there are hardly any of the such."

"Might we ask exactly what this person has done?" Zarazu wished to have a bit more information. "If this person has caused harm to my citizens, I would prefer to deal judgement with Zannah, not apart."

"A runaway. We know that Hasai are allowed to live in Hyrule. We'd never take a citizen who freely lives in Hyrule away unless they committed a crime against the Empire itself. Even then, we'd discuss the matter with you first. This Hasai in particular we are after fled Empire territory with damaging information that could cause infrastructure in the Empire to be crippled for a time. We believe that they might be a threat to themselves, as well as others." Hresvelg gave a nod of his head to Covarog in particular. "My grand father was the once the war hero Grand Admiral Bellum. I believe you were only a child when our people were at war, but I think you would know him. He was a level headed man, known for keeping his word and keeping respect amongst allies and enemies. So please know, I swear on his grave and family legacy that we will not be a danger to your people in our operation."

"We understand, though, before you take this perpetrator back to the Empire, we would like to speak to this person." Covarog explained to Hresvelg. "Put a face to a name, and understand why this happened, especially if they were working with another unpleasant character here in Hyrule. We do not want either of our nations in turmoil."

"A fair request, don't you agree, sir?" Zarazu asked the agent.

Hresvelg shared his grand father's poker face. He was glad too, because how the hell was he supposed to respond to that. Sorry, but his Emperor ordered that the Hylian royalty not witness the target, but I'm sure you can understand right? And he loathed lying. "I'm afraid it's highly important that the runaway is brought back immediately to Empire territory for questioning. They are also a teenager, so I imagine their parents must be ready to deliver quite the earful to them for their misbehaviour. However, out of good faith, I promise I will bring to you alive and as unharmed as allowed any unsavoury characters we have found them with. Is this request acceptable?"

"A kid?" Zarazu now sounded concerned. "How can a teenager get such vital information?"

"You know as well as I do that some children are trained to be deadly, my queen." Covarog reminded her, knowing full well of the Empire's hostile tactics. "Very well. Bring them here."

That would be good enough to not have Hylian forces interfere. "As you wish."

And that wasn't him making a promise either. Leaving the castle, Hresvelg flashed a light in the sky. Flying above a single was received, and the command was given a go.

Two weeks had passed since Grievous had arrived. So many days since Zizi had left her house. The Waku girl didn't know how she could help patch the relationship of her father and his wife if she didn't return. In the meantime, she slowly dropped her guard around the family, yet it seemed that Kahli never opened up to her the way he did with his other children. To them, despite tensions, he was warm, attentive and loving. Everything a father should be. To her, he was still rather indifferent. Outside, she was playing on chess board with Urboro. Kahli forbad her from initiating challenges of physical combat, so Grievous thought of different ways to see which siblings she could defeat in some ways. "My knight takes your rook."

"Annnnd... checkmate." Urboro knocked over Grievous' king with her queen. "You left your king unguarded. A knight shouldn't leave his post unless necessary. Got a little too ahead of yourself there, Grivy. I think you should stick to checkers, you beat Manaco seven times already in that game."

Grievous looked at the board, stunned in disbelief. How did she miss that? Glaring at Urboro, she didn't like the fact that she made a bet over a game of chess. "Don't be a jerk. Best two out of three."

"I'm not a jerk, I'm just took extra lessons from Uncle Ralnor in chess." Urboro grinned widely at Grievous. "Do I detect a tint of..." She held over her eyes, pretending to look, teasing. "A sore loser?"

"I just don't like you undermining my value as an intellectual. Just name your stupid prize for winning." Grievous crossed her arms, embarrassed at her loss.

"You shall have the honor of painting my toenails." Urboro set down a jar of polish in front of Grievous. "And I will paint yours."

"Painting nails? I don't understand the need."

"Of course you don't…" Urboro opened the bottle. "It's to look pretty. Feel good about yourself. To catch someone's eye, make them notice you."

"Confidence? Like my face paint? But no one can see your toes under most circumstances." Grievous had a new thought enter her mind. She never had an opportunity to speak of such things with her other half siblings or other students at the academies she attended. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Your lover in bed can." Urboro winked at Grivy. "A girl has got to be prepared." At her question, Urboro stared at her. "Of course you're pretty. You got an adorable tail, a huge butt, your breasts aren't that big but so what, if you'd wipe off that face paint, I guarantee you'd have a date by the end of the day. I can give you some flirting pointers and---" She gasped. "We should go bar hopping. I can totally get you a guy with a shredded eight pack."

"Wait. Are you talking about sex?" Grievous tightened at her shoulders, her tail waging back and forth anxiously. Was her butt really that noticeable? Was it due to her tail? "I'm not well versed in such matters. Are you?"

"I'm dating a Hylian blacksmith who is built like a boulder." Urboro nearly purred. "Muscles and such a big dick. Size does matter you know, but also how they use it." Her jaw nearly dropped next. "You don't know about sex?! Wait... you haven't had sex before, have you?!" She nearly squealed. "Oh goodness, I'm so totally going to get you laid."

"B-b-but what about the life bond? Wait..." Grievous' mind raced, her thoughts unable stop herself from thinking information through, even for her own good. "Before I left, one on my older half siblings at the academy was caught in what an officer described to us as an 'oral act' with another student. They would have been punished, had they not discovered neither became overly attached. They thought it was a miracle and summarized it was due to us being half-bloods." She snapped out of her thinking when she saw Urboro only smile even more. "Wait! That doesn't mean I'm looking for sex right now! I must look so bizarre to the people of this land. Is it even that good?"

"We're halves, Grivy. You're half Dal, half Waku. I'm half Lorleidian, half Waku. The Hasai life bond doesn't apply to me." Urboro flipped back her hair in a showy manner. "So you're probably not bound by it either." She then giggled, "And bizarre? Grivy, anyone who is 'new' and 'unique' is translated as exotic. You'll have men chasing your tail. Literally." She then paused. "Unless you want a woman?"

"I, um, never gave that part of my life any consideration." Grievous paused, looking at the clear nail polish bottle. "... you never told me if its good or not."

"Yes, you silly, it is good." Urboro then instructed. "Now, hold still. Appearance is one thing, but adding a little accessory never hurt anyone." She expertly started to paint Grivy's nails. "Hrm. I think metallic purple is your color."

Holding still would have to come another day. From the corner of her eye, Grievous spotted a hand motion from behind the barn. If the Kikai Empire had drilled anything into her with her teachings at the military academy, it was military tactics and strategy. Not care for her own safety, Grievous dove past Urboro, causing nail polish to slip up her leg in stroke. With an open arm, Grievous lightly close lined her half sibling to the ground to safety as an electric ball skidded by her head, every hair standing on top as a result. It appeared she was to trust her instincts to move. The trajectory of the shot would have hit Urboro had she dived left or right instead.

Men in black armour from head to toe stepped out from cover, weapons for capture using slings or shock sticks drawn, but others had crossbows trained if more violent means were necessary. "DAL! GET ON THE GROUND!"

"EEEEEEKKK!!!" Urboro was not expecting a full tackle and released a loud 'oof' when she hit the ground, feet straight up in the air. When the ball of lightning sailed past the pair, Urboro knew that there was trouble. Either someone was after her or after Grivy or trying to hurt her father. More than likely, it was Grivy, but she hoped this could be resolved... peacefully and without electrocution. "Hold onto me!" Urboro instructed Grivy, "And hold your breath!"

With that, the earth opened and swallowed both of them.

Electric shots from slings could be heard sizzling against the earth, voices being garbled by the layer of dirt between them. "Encircle the house! She's not getting away."

Grievous did as she was told, however, being trapped fully under the earth was nothing like trying to breath under water. This was far darker and murkier than she'd like.

Outside, the Theron Elite wasted no time covering any exit that the house provided. Going from assassinations to bounty hunting was

It took nearly a full minute, but Grievous and Urboro emerged inside one of her mother's greenhouse's. Coughing, the Zemlja then apologized between breaths, "Sorry, it's COUGH been a while since--ACHOO! I had to do that."

"What about your siblings still back at the house? We have to go back. Where's father?" Grievous took deep breaths after having to hold it in a pinch.

"Mom has a COUGH emergency defense system of sorts." Urboro brushed some dirt off Grievous' clothes. "Oh wait, that's right, she didn't tell you about Venu'sa."

"A what?"

Back at the house, Kahli was waking up from the behest of one of his other children. "What is it?"

"Daddy, I think someone bad is outside." Zaltana was peering through the window, hugging her stuffed dragon. "Venu'sa isn't sleeping anymore."

"Let's get away from the window, shall we?" Chatima led his baby sister away from view.

"Dad, what's going on?" Huyana asked her father, exiting her bedroom. "Sakari and Satinka say that there's more Hasai outside."

Hasai? At his house? With his children here?! Kahli's eye grew with fury. He knew this was an inevitability with Grievous showing up and staying. No way in heaven or hell Zannah would allow the possibility of this secret to spread. He should have left sooner to see her, but with Zizi still gone, Kahli had a duty to look after his children. "Stay here kids."

Kahli tightened his fists as he went to his door. Sure enough, he saw vines slivering, but no attack made by the guardian as of yet. Theron trained their weapons on him from different areas, positioned around fence posts or trees, and Kahli paused, taking a deep breath to channel his energies for battle if necessary. "Get off my property."

Agent Hresvelg had a bow an arrow ready in his grip, shouting from behind the barn for cover, "Give us the girl Sir Kahli. We don't want any trouble."

"You coming here with weapons pointed at my house, at my children invites conflict. I don't care if you're special forces. I will burn you to cinders if you don't back away."

The Hasai looked to their field commander, unsure what to do. "Orders sir?"

"Do not engage. Sir Kahli! I think it would be best for everyone if we stayed calm and orderly. The Emperor values the girl’s life. This isn't an assassination."

"Then why did she send you now? The Theron are Zannah’s death squad."

Hresvelg paused at this statement. There was truth in that, but missions were a mission. "I have no reason to lie to you. My orders are my orders."

Before Kahli could start his eruption of fire to give them a warning, he felt his spine shudder from a collision of pain against him. The metallic punch of T0-D brought him to his knees. "Declaration: Agent. The target is not here. Search the plantations. She must have not gone far."

The Theron nodded, running off into pairs, only a few staying behind to give their commander support if need be.

Kahli grunted, turning his head to look up at the Android. "What the hell."

"Apology: I didn't want to have to hurt you, but it looked like an altercation was about to occur, and I'd like it if you didn't kill any of the pristine meatbags. Also, that was for failing to mention you had broken your arrangement with the Emperor. What were you thinking keeping the girl here? I know she's been staying here for a while."

The man couldn't kick the robot from under his feet, so he rolled away, immediately running between it and his house. "T0-D. Tell your men to stand down. I'm going to see Zannah regardless. But if you take the girl, we'll have problems."

"Curiosity: Oh? Like what?"

The Waku put a finger against his head, pushing his hair tightly. "Or I blow myself up."

Zizi had spent the last two weeks in the Forest Temple, meditating and listening to the earth. It calmed her. Between Skull Kid's pleasant company and reconstructing parts of the temple, she felt a bit like her old self. Actually, she felt younger, like she was relieved of burdens in some ways. If Skull Kid could work miracles, making her feel like a kid again was definitely one of his talents. It made her forget her worries and heartaches just for a little while. Though, she knew she had to face them at some point. So, the Zemlja sat in the middle of the temple and harnessed her magic, green energy floating throughout the structure, into the ground, and around her in the air. There, she conversed with Zemlja himself.

"You still don't think you can forgive him?"

"Why should I? He lied to me. Kept this from me."

"He couldn't reveal it. Hasai physiology is very different than Lorleidian."

"I know that! It's just... I've never felt this angry before. Not even at Vul'kar."

"You have a right to be angry." Zemlja offered wise advice. "But if you continue to let it eat at you, you will find nothing but misery. And here, you have been drowning in it."

"... I know."

"It's hard to let go of hurts sometimes, isn't it?"

"Very hard."

"Then perhaps you better focus on what you do have, before you lose it."

"I already feel like I've lost him."

"But have you?"

"... I don't know. Why would he even love me after I lashed out at him? Doubt him? ... I can't forget what he did."

"No, you won't, you never will. Though, you cannot blame all the blame on him."

"You're right... the blame is Zannah's."

"Correct, it is hers. Do you still wish to cause her this type of pain as well?"

"Yes. She hurt me. Hurt my family. I thought her a friend."

"Then you must be careful... and not be foolish. Patience is your friend."

"Lorleidians don't condone violence."

"And violence isn't needed."

"No. No it's not.”

"Be careful, Zizi, and leave your thoughts of Zannah behind for now. Your family needs you."

"... we'll talk again soon?"

"I'll be here if you need me."

And with that, Zizi was pulled out of her trance by the tugging of Venu'sa's activation.

"Skully!!!" Zizi hurried out of the temple to the earth. "I'll be back! Gotta go! I'll bring you some cookies next time!" Jumping into the open earth, the Zemlja moved through the ground as fast as the wind through the leaves. Kahli's distress... she could sense it. Something was wrong, something was very wrong, and she was not going to let anymore damage come to her family... and she arrived outside her home, right in front of Kahli. Was he going to kill himself? The woman tackled him with all her force, and pinned his arms to the side, sitting on him. "... Kahli..." She looked at him with a glare. "If you ever dare to do that again, I'll divorce you for sure."

Kahli fell to the ground, shocked by his wife suddenly appearing from nowhere to hit him to the ground. He stared at her for a moment, before slowly turning his attention at the more concerning issue. "Zizi... we have a more pressing matter."

T0-D's eye flashed between blue and red, his mind thinking over Kahli's threat. "Illogical: Your threat has no merit. If you kill yourself, not only will you fight against the life debt you owe, but you will be leaving behind your children. Not to mention, Hasai do not commit direct suicide. In all my years I've never seen such a thing possible. I don't believe that you could do it. Give us the girl or I can't promise people might get hurt in the process."

Zizi got to her feet, looking at the Hasai troops and T0-D. She had a giant frown on her face. This was, indeed, a more pressing matter, though she had to keep her in mind Zemlja's words. There would no room for being foolish. Zannah would know that she knew now. Nothing could change that.

"... I know about the girl, Tod." Zizi informed the robot. "And I know about the debt." She struggled to say the next words. "We may not have started off on the right foot, but... I thought we became friends after a while. Tell me," She took a sharp inhale. "That day you offered to help me bake cookies... were you just manipulating me like any other 'meatbag' so Zannah could stab me in the back?"

"Reflection: The Emperor instructed me to watch over you, yes. But it was I who wanted to take the time to get closer with you. Her order was very open ended Zizi. The Emperor and I knew that you'd never have agreed to the process. That you couldn't share Khali. Baking with you was a wonderful beginning to what I believe was your start for a friendship. However, I never expected to have doubts. I knew if you ever discovered the truth, you would not be able to accept it. And I dreaded to think on how you would view our relationship after due to me being told to keep you in the dark. Can you imagine? Me? Having dread? Illogical at surface level, and yet, a reality I must face. Here we are now. I'm sure that the girl told you everything now. Is it so bad though? They aren't treated badly. Every Hasai goes through military training. The new generation of Waku are merely being given extra training. They are still relatively young. They will be able to make other careers for themselves in the Empire if they so choose. Zannah did it for the greater good of the tribes and the Empire. Although, I can predict this hardly matters to you. Manipulation and being stabbed in the back were your choice of words was it not? I'm sure you feel this was merely a betrayal. I wonder how you look at me now. I wonder how you look at Kahli. Hurt no doubt. But can't you see logic was put forward? I'd gladly cook cookies with you again, yet I fear a 1 in 14,000 chance of that ever occurring again. Ah, I've spoken far too long. Kahli. You won't kill yourself, and I have my orders to bring the girl. Can you give me a logical explanation to not take her?"

"... so that's it. That's all it ever was. Boiling down to orders and commands and keeping secrets." Zizi was quiet for a moment before saying. "Friends don't treat friends like this, Tod. Orders or not. I don't know really what you feel or if you can even feel guilty. Dread? Sure, you felt that before when you had to fight a formidable foe. I remember, I was there when you fought Malik." She swallowed thickly, "Do you think I would have ever done this to Zannah? Or even to you, be it possible? ... then again, if Zannah never considered me a friend in the first place, just another pawn to be moved on her game board, I suppose my logic doesn't apply." The Zemlja was trying to keep tears from running down her face. "Everything was perfect. I was happy, my family was happy... and then this happened. And I... I can't begin to tell you how much I wanted to just... just scream. I wanted Kahli to hurt like I hurt. I lashed out at him, and I shouldn't have. I should have just kept my emotions in check, but I can't do that, Tod. I'm not... I'm not like Zannah. I'm not like you. I can't sacrifice one person for the whole. I want everyone to be okay and to be safe, and feel loved." Zizi then stated firmly. "And Grievous doesn't deserve at all to be treated like a tool. She's her own person. She deserves her own life. If she doesn't want to fight, if she doesn't want to go back, if she doesn't want to leave here, then she shouldn't have to. She's with family now, Tod. It doesn't matter that I'm not her mother, she's still mine in a way. I will protect her, she's innocent in all this. All she wanted was some answers. Does she deserved to be punished for that? She's a child." She asked the robot, trying to appeal to his sense of loyalty and regret. "Would you want me to drag you away from your family?"

Kahli stared at his wife, unable to find the words. All he had fill him was shame.

T0-D paused, raising a hand to his 'chin' to think. "Answer: The girl has a biological mother she lives with. She has hundreds of half siblings she knows at the academy. In more years, her training will be complete. What makes you so much more special? We all have a part to play Zizi. It is selfish to put yourself above the greater whole. Countries and Empires wouldn't be able to function if everyone was so selfish. You aren't her family. We'd be returning her to her real home. So, it is indeed different then if you were to try and take me away from my own family." His claw pointed towards Kahli. "Query: He is the father, but you are not the mother. This girl is not your responsibility. And my dread is a form of guilt I suppose. To have a friend has been eventful, joyful to certain receptors. It's nice to access my memory of these more joyful times. Now, I still see no reason to not follow my orders. Zannah holds her trust in subjects and in family. To her, friends cannot be a part of her life. Family she can pour her love into and know it is a bond only death can separate. Subjects, she has a loyalty to nurture her people and them in return give undying loyalty and respect. I do regret your pain Zizi Slatki. Zannah does to. But she did what she did for the greater good. I believe in her goals to bring prosperity to every subject of hers. As her family, and as her oldest subject, I have a duty to fulfil."

Kahli squeezed his wife’s hand. "Don't take the girl. I believe Zannah would find me to be a higher priority."

"Doubt: Why is that?"

"The life debt has lost its secrecy. It's chains around me are so much lighter. I believe that she'd want to speak to me to try and correct that, would she not?"

T0-D was still, calculating multiple possibilities to carry out next.

"I'm human, Tod. Humans are selfish, and my love is selfish, but in a good way. I don't care the Grivy isn't mine, she still showed up on my doorstep asking for help. That makes her my responsibility, even if Kahli doesn't want to acknowledge her." Zizi told the robot, literally shaking from grief and sorrow. "A good leader wouldn't try to hurt one of her subjects in this way. A good leader would consider what others want. A good leader would forget her stupid quest for power and conquest, and focus on her family and try to make friends with those who cared about her. Zannah is no leader... she is simply a manipulator." She asked him. "If Zannah doesn't want my friendship in her life, then she doesn't regret a single thing she's done. By the spirits, I was right about her this entire time, but I didn't want to see it. I wanted to believe Kahli about her, I wanted to believe you about her, but it's all dragon-shit. All Zannah cares about is power. That's the way it has always been." The Zemlja couldn't stop the tears now. "I doubt Zannah even cares about you, Tod. When has she ever asked what you want? I tried to amend my behavior towards you, I tried to treat you well, and you..." She choked on her words with a sob. "You tricked me. Zannah used Kahli. She threatened to take away my babies to get what she wanted. I tried so hard... so damn hard to believe in the better good of others, but it has done nothing but brought me pain and misery. Are you really going to make me lose faith in you too?"

"Reflection: I'm sure my soul is impure in your eyes. What I want is the betterment of the Empire I call home. The largest sacrifices require the strongest wills. And Zannah has steeled her will to take on any challenge. A good leader will sacrifice additional comforts to give her subjects all the essentials of living. A good leader uses her power for the betterment of those people. Zannah broke her friendships for the sake of bettering her people. She cared so deeply for her people that she made the heartbreaking choice to sacrifice her friendship with you. I calculate, given her condition, she might step down from her current position and elevate herself for the betterment of her people. I did trick you. I won't lie to you Zizi Slatki. Because I believed in her cause. Even if I didn't like the thought of seeing you hurt."

Kahli hugged his wife tightly, resting his head over her shoulder. With a kiss, he whispered into her ear. "Let me go. You can watch over Grievous while I find a way out of this debt."

So that was it... Tod admitted it. Both of them, Zannah and her robot, intentionally hurt her.

... what did she do to deserve this? What did her husband do? Her family?

"I don't want you to go." Zizi sobbed, holding onto Kahli tightly. "I want you to stay here. I want things to go back to how they were."

"I can try to make things right. You have to give me that chance. Please, I beg of you Zizi."

"Statement: I am honestly sorry to see I hurt you Zizi. Kahli, do you consent to seeing the Emperor?"

The Waku looked over his shoulder, hurt and angry. "Only if you call off your hunt for my daughter."

"Don't go, I don't want her to hurt you. I've already hurt you and I shouldn't have, and I don't want to lose you, I don't care if all your other kids show up on our doorsteps, please don't leave me. If Zannah takes you away, I'll be lost." Zizi begged her husband. "No, you're not." Zizi took a shaky breath. "You just told me, Tod. You believed in Zannah. You didn't believe in me."

"Additional Statement: Those two things aren't mutually exclusive in my eye. I see now, however, it would be illogical to try and change your mind. Goodbye Zizi Slatki."

Kahli gave his wife a peck on the cheek, rising away from her. "I won't let her. You have my love on that."

"You promise?" Zizi looked so... so defeated. So heartbroken. So sad. "I can't... trust her anymore."

"I promise to you. I promise on my unending love for you. She won't take me away from you."

Meanwhile, at the greenhouse, Theron guards finally found their target. On the left and right flank, two cornered Grievous and Urboro. They had crossbows ready to fire with the graze of a finger. "Don't. Move."

Agent Hresvelg entered centre stage, taking off his helmet. Grievous expressed surprise at seeing him. "Teacher?"

The man's purple eyes looked sad and tired to see her. "Why did it have to be you Grievous. You had such promise."

"I wanted freedom my mother wouldn't give me. That the Empire couldn't give me."

"That why you decided to come specifically to Hyrule? To your birth father?"

"I wanted to see him too. Teacher. I'm not going back."

"Grievous. You're one of my most outstanding students. You've shown so much potential, and you want to throw it all away? You could be a great commander if you put your mind to it."

"But that's not the life I want." She planted her feet, grinding her fingers into her palm as she made a fist. "I want to fight my own battles. I want to fly where ever I want. I want a parent who loves me. I want siblings I can actually who aren't so laser focused in following the Empire. I- I want to learn what sex is like after going to bars with my sister. " She unexpectedly gripped Urboro's hand, wanting to feel her support.

Hresvelg frowned, perhaps a little disgusted by her behaviour. "Because of your desertion, the Empire wants you out of sight and out of mind. You might have been able to have been able to have the future you wanted in ten more years with hard work. You were always a serious student. You took your training seriously. You didn’t have time for foolish behaviour. It's why you were given the name Grievous."

"But that's because you all raised me that way. It’s all I knew. That life might be acceptable to the others, but not to me."

The agent drew a flint lock, cocking the gun in the direction of Grievous’ heart. "I have to ask you to come with us. At this range, you can't do your little disappearing act. And I truthfully don't want to hurt you or the girl. I will give you the count to three. 1."

Grievous didn't move, her body spreading out to protect Urboro from fire.

"2."

Just before he got to three, another Theron appeared behind him. "Sir. The mission is being called off by General T0-D."

"What?"

"We are to leave with Sir Kahli back to the Empire to deliver him directly to the Emperor."

"I see..." Hresvelg put his pistol away back into his holster. "Well Grievous. I don't know when I will see you again, but I hope you are serious about your current life choices."

"I am."

Seemingly satisfied, Agent Hresvelg turned to leave. The Theron at the sides disappeared as silently and as quickly as phantoms.

"Wait, they're taking Dad?!" Urboro looked a bit afraid. Her mother always warned her that Zannah could have a horrible temper. If they were taking her father away, what would happen? "Grivy, what's going on?!"

“I don’t know. I really don’t know.” Both the girls picked themselves up and ran to the house. When they arrived, however, all the Hasai were gone. All that remained was a distraught Zizi lying on her knees, with other children gathering with confusion.

Manaco had rushed from work to his parents' house when he heard the rumors of Hasai being present in Hyrule. When he saw his mother on the ground, and no indication of his father's presence, he feared the worst. Either Zannah was going to kill his sire or keep him prisoner... or worse.

"What should we do, Manaco?" Keira asked her elder brother. "They took Dad. That robot was here too. It must be serious if Tod was here."

"I... I don't know what to do." Manaco told his sister honestly. "I think that the only thing we can do is wait."

“Wait? What about the well being of our father? Aren’t you fighters?” Grievous questioned, guilt heavy on her mind. It was becoming clearer to her that he took her place. But why?

"Grivy, there's five of us that are of age. We are all good fighters, and we can defend ourselves, but taking on an army is not within our capabilities." Ahusaka informed his sister with a heavy sigh. "Even we know when to admit we're no match for a battle."

"Unfortunately, he's right." Manaco admitted. "We... we need to take care of Mom for now, and just wait. That's all we can do without endangering the rest of our family."

Grievous’ tail curled low, her feelings on the matter heavy. Turning to Zizi, she barely got the words out with a steady tone. “I’m sorry I came here. I’m sorry they took him away. I’m sorry I broke you two up. Kahli is a good man. He loves his children. He loves you. I shouldn’t have come here if I had known you’d be hurt so deeply.”

"It's not your fault, Grivy." Zizi felt so... hollow. Empty. "You're not responsible for this... Zannah is."

"I'm going to take Mom inside," Manaco told his siblings. "Will all of you try to calm Venu'sa down? She doesn't need to be grabbing a stranger and eating them."

"We can do that." Urboro assured her brother. "Take care of Mom."

"Grivy, we could use your help watching after the younger ones." Miku asked. "Do you mind?"

“Of course. It’s the least I can do. Miss Zizi? You’ll give Father another chance will you not?”

"I will, I just... it's hard to process all of this." Zizi said very softly. "I'm so exhausted..."

"That's okay, Mom. You can rest. We'll take care of everything." Manaco lifted his Mom into his arms, carrying her. He had never seen her so tired before, not even in the hot sun working with plants. He was worried, and it showed. "We'll keep Urboro away from the stove too."

"I heard that, you fu---fudge-head." Urboro had to catch her language in front of her smaller siblings.

Grievous turned to find the little ones. She hoped she knew what her father was doing. In so many ways, today had taken so many losses.

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/612492318747082752/burnt-heart-ch-5-reflection

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/612606875698085888/burnt-heart-ch-7-burning-bridges-repairing

Crossover with @ridersoftheapocalypse. Shared Extended World with @s-kinnaly

#Crossover #ridersoftheapocalypse #Zizi #Kahli #T0-D #hasai #Grievous Dal #family drama #heartache

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onbanksofadragonriver · 4 years

Text

Intimate

“Hey.”

The Inquisitor’s quiet voice was the last thing Cassandra expected to hear in her spot above the smithy in the small hours of the morning. The Seekers’ Book of Secrets lay heavy under her gloved hands, read and re-read in the past few days until she almost knew it by heart. She’d got lost in her thoughts, waiting for the dawn, when they would set out for Adamant.

“Inquisitor?”

She wondered how he’d even found her. He had never seemed too fond of her, or paying attention to where she preferred to spend her time.

Her surprise must have shown, because Martin shot her a faltering grin as he walked over and sat in the chair opposite her. Swallowing, he carefully laid on the table a gnarled wooden staff and a folded, sealed letter.

“A new staff?” Cassandra hazarded a guess. “Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

Martin swallowed again, hands with slender fingers running lightly down the length of the weapon. His chin dipped lower, and he had yet to look her in the eye.

“A fire staff,” he muttered. “And no, I’m not worried for myself. I… I wanted to talk to you.”

Cassandra felt her eyebrows rise, and instantly felt ashamed of her reaction. Martin Lavellan had supported her as she’d doggedly tried to find the Seekers, had spoken to her later with such unexpected warmth and lack of judgement… He’d been a friend, not just her leader. Could she not show him the same, instead of calling him out for never really talking to her before?

“You can tell me everything,” she said with a decisive nod.

The elf sat back in the chair, his light hazel eyes still trained on the staff.

“I wanted to thank you,” he said quietly. “For letting me follow my path as long as you have.”

Cassandra frowned.

“Me? Letting you follow your path as the Herald of Andraste? As the Inquisitor?”

Martin shook his head. “Vir Atish’an. The Way of Peace.”

“Oh.”

“You’ve indulged me long enough, and for that I am grateful.”

“Your barriers and healing spells have more than made up for the added combat strain on the rest of us, Inquisitor. Your people know their chances of returning from the field are higher just because of you being in it.”

“And to increase those chances further, tomorrow I bring a different staff. Tomorrow I fight.”

“You…” Cassandra blinked.

“I just wanted you to…” Casting his glance around, he seemed to be looking for the right words, as if they could be found in the dark corners of the room. “To know? To understand, maybe.”

“Understand what?” Cassandra was flummoxed. Martin Lavellan didn’t need her permission to fight, and he wasn’t asking for it, was he? Neither was he asking for any kind of forgiveness, for absolution. Unless this was some Dalish thing, in which case she’d just have to admit she didn’t follow.

Finally his gaze settled on her, greenish-grey and so unnervingly unguarded.

“That I wasn’t lying when I refused to fight before,” he said. “That I wasn’t trying to be difficult or to spite you, or the Inquisition. That this…” he wrapped his hand around the smooth wooden handle. “This does not mean I’ve rejected Vir Atish’an, and it doesn’t make my path weak or wrong.”

Still frowning, Cassandra slumped in her chair, wordlessly motioning for him to continue.

Martin gave her a small smile.

“A clan works in unison. It is not my job to convince a hunter that Andruil, the goddess of hunt, is somehow less real, or that their path is wrong. We’d die of cold and hunger if that were the case. A follower of Falon’Din, the god of death, would not try to convince me that my life’s work is futile. Neither would anyone else: we all like our good health and stories, and a welcoming hearth. Everyone chooses their path, their vallaslin, for themselves. There are no wrong paths.”

Something about his voice had relaxed her into simply listening.

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked quietly.

“Because,” Martin drew a deep breath. “A few days ago you asked me whether the Inquisition could end up as twisted as the Seekers of the Truth. And I promised you it never would.

“And so… when you see me rain fire tomorrow… I want you to know that I have not betrayed my truth. That this is hard for me. That this is not me going down some ‘slippery slope’ like the one your Lord Seeker took, because the Dalish don't value one path above another. Mercy is not inherently better than violence.

“I'd like you to think of it as... as they say in Denerim, not bringing a bunch of flowers to a bar fight. Although I’m so much better with flowers,” he chuckled under his breath, and Cassandra couldn’t help a smile tugging at her lips as she recalled the huge pile of embrium Martin had recently brought back from Crestwood and dumped at the dumbfounded Surgeon’s feet.

“This is a personal choice. It doesn't change the direction of the Inquisition,” Martin said firmly. “It just means that tomorrow I’ll be able to take better care of myself during the attack, and our fighters won't have to split their focus that much.”

Cassandra nodded thoughtfully. “You should tell Cullen.”

Martin ran his hands over the length of his new weapon once more and then removed it from the table, swirling it deftly as he stood up and slid it into the harness across his back. “I will. But you… you I wanted to understand.”

“Thank you.” She nodded again. “I will… think about it.”

He was almost downstairs when she noticed the letter forgotten on her table.

“Inquisitor!” she called, grabbing the message and hurrying after him into the darkened yard. “You left this.”

“Oh.” Martin turned and gave a nervous laugh when he saw the folded piece of paper in Cassandra’s outstretched hand. “That.” He drew a hand through his hair before glancing up at the myriad stars blinking frostily from the darkness above.

“If this whole thing doesn’t work out…” He waved, encompassing his new staff, the smithy, the battlements and, it seemed, the Inquisition in general. “Meaning, if I die in the… foreseeable future... please bring that message to my family.”

Cassandra glanced down at the letter. “It says ‘To Mr and Mrs Foster in Denerim’.

Martin shrugged.

“But you're from clan Lavellan!”

He glanced away for a long moment. Cassandra could only stare at him in flabbergasted horror. Had he lied to them this whole time?

“When you asked me my name,” he said softly. “I never gave you my surname, because that would be a bloody stupid thing to do when you’re captured, and chained, and accused of killing the Divine. I feared you’d go after my family.”

“But… Lavellan…”

“Is the clan I hail from. According to the Dalish customs, you can definitely call me Lavellan, and it’s not wrong. I'm fine with it. But I was born in Denerim, to Almaribel and Saeris Ralaferin, and when my father died, my mum married a human craftsman named Lowan Foster.”

Cassandra swallowed thickly, trembling fingers creasing the folded paper.

“And now you…”

Martin snorted, one hand rising to brush over his cheekbone where Cassandra had hit him on that first meeting.

“Yeah, funny how that works,” he murmured. When he looked at her again, he was grinning brightly, laugh lines creasing the corners of his eyes.

“Now you’re the only person I’d trust to bring them news of my demise.”

------

Based on the 30 Days OC challenge || Masterpost

#30 days of Martin Lavellan #dragon age #Inquisitor Lavellan #male lavellan #Cassandra Pentaghast #friendship #faith and family ARE very private subjects for Martin :]

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wannawritefast · 6 years

Text

Bonnie and Clyde

A/N: As you guys can tell, I suck at posting. I’m busy and still have a crappy laptop and ant to only post stuff that I am proud of. So my posting schedule is a bit few and far between and Im super sorry. Thank you, though, to those of you who have stuck around and read my stuff. And to those who are just reading this as your first time reading my fic. Thank you! All feedback is welcomed and encouraged. Xoxo- Mama Echo

Request- anon requested: “Hii!! Love angel! Could you possibly write a fic where you and digger meet and become crime partners and spend quite a bit of time robbing banks and end up falling in love.”

Pairing: Digger Harkness x Reader, Captain Boomerang x Reader

Warnings: Language, Mentions of blood, a little bit of kissing (does that count?), Violence

Robberies were an… unconventional way to make a living. To most. But hey… It’s not like you could do much else. No one wanted to hire you. McDonald’s didn't want you as a cashier. Walmart didn't hire you. Not even those cute little 50’s diners that are typically waitressed by either college students or older women wanted you working for them. You couldn't even find work as a mascot or a sign twirler.

You couldn't sing (that high school choir teacher kept you on out of pity alone). You couldn't dance (Dance Dance Revolution was the bane of your existence). Hell, you couldn't even draw a rabbit if your life depended on it. You were seriously lacking in arts department adequacy.

You were running out of options. So, you made use of the one thing you could use. Your street smarts. You were definitely cunning enough. Not everyone could talk their way out of being arrested not once, not twice, but four times.

The rooftops and underground tunnels had practically been your playground as a child. You got your fair share of watching things unfold with an eye in the sky. Gotham wasn’t exactly prone to producing the most caring parents anyways. You’d disappear for days, sometimes weeks, at a time. And no one cared! You honestly preferred it to the hellhole some of your siblings called “home.”

But where they picked up honorable professions like lawyers, doctors, teachers, and good respectable citizens of Gotham you reserved yourself to the path of thievery.

And you were so damn good at it. You learned the ins and outs of the basic and not-so-basic security systems. You found out through trial, error, and YouTube videos how to wield knives, guns, staffs, and basically anything you could use as a weapon. You learned how to make poisons, how to hit a vital point, how to take down someone with a gun, how to adjust to your environment, and how to frame someone else for a crime.

But most importantly, you worked alone.

Always.

Trust was too risky, in your humble opinion. It wasn't something that could be thrown about willy-nilly.

You had been planning this heist for weeks now. Months. You got the building floor plans. You found a way to access the main routes of the security guards. You even got your hands on disabling the alarms for a short amount of time.

Street smarts get you places. Not thousands of dollars’ worth of schooling to be a good person.

Pfft! Where’s the fun in that anyways?

After picking up a free taxi ride to the Gotham City Museum, (Don't ask…) you took in the scene before you. Your eyes fell on the front entrance of the closed building and found it surprisingly unguarded. And dark. Perfect… No one would notice if you cut the power. You snuck around the side of the monumental museum and found the power box.

The power box was already open and tampered with. Shit. Someone’s here.

A sense of dread filled you. The electricity from the sparking power box spat at you furiously. Someone's here already.

And it isn't a security guard. To hell with the plan.

You needed to get to that ‘Historic Jewelry’ exhibit and fast. You put your velvet gloves on, pulled your mask on, and checked your voice distorter as you ran back to the front entrance of the building.

Unlocked…Shit…

You sprinted down the main entrance hall. Maps and directories zoomed past you along with benches, tables, and closed fast food vendors. You took note of the poorly guarded ice cream shop. It wasn't your fault if they had terrible security.

You were about to turn the corner when you heard the crackling of a walkie-talkie and booted footsteps on the marble floors. Security guard!

You stopped so fast that you fell forward. Shit! Maybe you did need to follow your plan a little closer.

You scrambled to your feet and bolted to the circular concierge desk. Diving over the top of the counter, it was only at that moment that you realized the damn area was made of glass. Stupid rich people and their stupid interior decorating niches!

You silently cursed yourself for your recklessness. You had about 8 seconds before the security guard turned the corner and saw you. Quietly, you climbed up the sign that said ‘Resources’ and tucked yourself into the inverted nook of the other side.

Just as you secured yourself in your hiding spot, you heard a voice speak up, “Who’s there?” You winced quietly as your heart pounded. You slowly unzipped your pouch of poison and took out your favorite white cloth.

“I know there's someone there,” he called. You heard the click of a prepped gun echo through the cavernous hall. A beacon of light silhouetted the sign you were curled into on the floor in front of you. The shadow wobbled and became unfocused as he rounded the corner and appeared below you. He scanned his flashlight along the food court that lay before you.

You took his bewilderment to advantage and pounced onto the ground behind him. The security guard noticed someone landed behind him when it was too late. You latched your arm around his neck as the ragged cloth in your other hand found its way to the man’s nose and mouth. After a few seconds of struggling, the heavy man went limp in your arms.

You slowly guided the unconscious man’s body to the ground. As soon as he was situated on his back, you took your gun out. You prepped the gun and pointed it at the man’s head hesitantly.

After a brief look back at the situation you decided that because he hadn't seen you, you would spare him… Besides the picture of kids in his wallet looked fairly recent…

And you didn't want to ruin your cover, right? You didn't kill unless the other guys shot first.

Knowing that another guard wouldn't make his way here in at least another half hour you bolted to the exhibit.

You finally arrived to the exhibit and stood still in the doorway. You holstered your gun and proceeded forward.

Until you heard voices. Goddammit! Was every security guard in Gotham City at this museum? No wonder crime is so high in Gotham. Every officer they have is here guarding the damn jewelry.

Cursing yourself mentally, you tucked yourself behind a display that held brooches that First Ladies had worn. From behind two layers of glass you looked where the voices had come from. To your slight relief, you found that the two who had been talking weren’t security guards. But they were guarding another person and he was right where you needed to be.

You inspected the two men a little closer. You almost groaned when you saw that they were young bar crawlers that would think that “no” means “convince me.”

You snuck back to the entrance that you had come through. You needed to lure at least two of three out.

Pulling your mask up so that your distortion wouldn’t affect your voice, you let out a light fake sneeze and listened to it echo through the mostly empty building.

“What was that?” a voice asked from the exhibit room. It sounded disgustingly like gravel and your skin crawled.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t hear anything. You must need to get your ears checked.” The second growled. His voice rattled with phlegm and you felt a bit of vomit bubble up from your stomach.

“I’m not stupid. I know I heard something.”

“Well, if you’re so worried about it, why don’t you check it out, Randy,” the second suggested.

“Maybe I will, Bill,” the first challenged. Men are so predictable…All you need to do is add testosterone and they just throw common sense out the window.

“No one’s stopping you,” exclaimed the second.

“Fine!” Ugh, they’re like children…but bigger and more gross.

“Fine!”

You rolled your eyes and pulled your mask back down. You quickly unhooked your garrote from its place on your hip with a metallic twang. Crossing your wrists, you leaned against the wall and awaited the man who had heard you. The silver wire glinted mischievously in the moonlight.

The lumbering man named Randy rounded the corner and when you were sure he was out of view of Bill, you attacked. You stepped behind him quietly and looped the garrote over his head, around his neck. The poor man didn’t even notice you had entrapped him.

You pulled the handles down a little harder than you had expected and Randy was yanked to the floor. Unfortunately, the weight of the man brought you down with him. You grunted with the sudden change in gravity but kept your grip on the handles.

Randy frantically scratched at the wire tightened around his throat but he wasn’t slowing down. You changed your position so that your feet were on his shoulders and you straightened your legs to get more power. The poor man was so desperate to be released that he brought his huge fist down right on your ankle. A sob of pain escaped your lips, a strange sound with your voice distorter. You pulled even harder. It was only a matter of time before his buddy got curious.

The man slowly struggled less and less. After three minutes of constant fighting the man lay deathly still. You cautiously felt his intensely marred throat for a pulse. Nothing.

You were still hot from the effort of taking down the first guard. Sweat soaked the crown of your head as you pulled the now sticky garrote from his neck and reattached it to its original spot. One down, you thought to yourself, two to go…

You took the mask off of your head as your heart beat fast at the adrenaline coursing through your veins and the mini workout you had just accomplished. You cracked your neck and stretched out to calm yourself.

This time you would use a different tactic that had never failed you. You tousled your hair and put on your red lipstick.

“Randy!” Bill called. “You ok over there?” You put on your best doe-eyed look and cleared your throat.

“Hello?” you called lightly, making sure your voice sounded as feminine as possible.

You peered around the corner at the middle-aged man. The man looked startled to see you. He was about to say something before you put your finger to your lips motioning for him to be quiet. Bill swallowed harshly and gaped at you. You curled your finger toward him in a gesture to beckon him to come to you.

He pointed to his chest and mouthed “Me?” You resisted your urge to both roll your eyes and throw up as you affirmed his question with a doe-eyed look and a wink.

This guy was seriously stupid. Here you were in the middle of a museum in the dark of night and he thought that some lost girl just sauntered into this exact exhibit looking for a good time? What an idiot… If it's this easy to get someone to do something, maybe henchmen weren’t a bad investment after all.

You walked back to the corner and waited for him to appear. As soon as he turned the corner you gave him a sweet smile. He smirked disgustingly and you roundhouse kicked him with your good ankle in response. He crumpled to the ground unconscious. It was your turn to smirk. You leaned over him as you poured fast-acting poison down his throat and forced him to swallow it. He convulsed briefly then lay still. Second down…Here comes the home stretch.

You limped back to the exhibit and pulled the mask on. The man still had his back to you as you approached. Many of the cases were already open and empty. You estimated that he had cleaned out about $10 million dollars-worth of stuff already. His gloved fingers plucked the massive diamond from its display. That diamond alone was worth $4 million and you could practically see yourself signing the check for your own house. He stuck it in his bag that held other jewelry pieces from the museum cases you had passed.

You unsheathed one of your knives as he turned and pressed it to his throat. You shoved him into the display case he had just stolen from. He looked at you with surprise.

You examined him for a moment. Your arm was pressed against his chest and you could feel his muscles along your forearm as he breathed. The man had dark blue eyes that looked almost green and his face was riddled with cuts, a bruise, and scars. You were taken aback by how handsome the bearded man was and decided to let him know.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t cut your throat this second,” your distorted voice threatened. His green orbs flickered down to the blade pressed to his windpipe before he stared you right in the eyes.

With one swift movement, he pulled out a gun and pressed it to your jaw. “That reason enough for you,” he questioned. You gulped at the feeling of the barrel of the pistol held against the base of your jaw and slightly in realization that he had an accent. Australian… Damn, if he wasn’t holding your income for the next 30 years…

You suddenly disarmed him like you had done so many times before and smirked at him as his gun clattered to the floor. He put his hands up in surrender.

“You were saying,” you goaded.

“Ok, mate,” the Aussie began, “First of all, what the fuck. Secondly- Oh my god, look!”

He pointed behind you exaggeratedly and you deadpanned. “What was the point in that,” your distorted voice asked.

“Worth a shot,” he shrugged.

“I’m still waiting for that reason,” you reminded him.

“Ok, seriously, how did you get past my guards.” He asked with his gorgeous accent. He would’ve been more gorgeous if he wasn’t holding your bag of jewels. What the fuck am I thinking?! He furrowed his brows in confusion at my ability to get to him.

“I strangled the first and poisoned the second.”

“Damn, you’re hardcore.”

“Well, they were stupid so… Not my fault.”

“I was going to kill them, anyways. They actually thought that I was going to split it with them,” he laughed a little bit.

“That’s really funny! Yeah,” you laughed with him then turned serious, “Hand me the bag.”

“What? No!”

“Um, yes,” you protested. You reminded him just how sharp your knife was.

“Oi, why do you have the little voice changing thingy, anyways” he asked suddenly. You swallowed harshly.

“Why- why not? It’s good for my cover,” you stammered with your voice still robotic sounding.

“That’s what a mask is for,” he stated, “You don’t need a voice changing thingy for that.”

“It’s called a voice distortion box,” you corrected.

“I don’t care what it’s called! You’re hiding something,” he accused.

“I'm the one hiding something? We're both thieves. Why don't you read the fucking room, bud?”

His eyes burned into yours and you had to look away for a moment. You turned your head to look at the display cases over his shoulder when something caught your eye.

There, back against the glass of a display case, was a security guard. And he had his eyes set right at the man you were pressed against. He hadn’t seen you yet but if he shot he would soon enough.

You looked at the tall muscular man in front of you with a sudden change in demeanor. He looked at you the same way.

You whispered, “There’s a security guard on the other side of a glass case behind you.”

He looked to you with fear in his eyes and the strange feeling of wanting to comfort him arose in your chest. He responded, “Yeah, there’s one there behind you too.”

Your heart leapt in terror. “Ok, grab your gun,” you whispered to him.

“I can’t. It’s on the floor, remember?” he explained. You cursed yourself for what seemed like the millionth time this night.

Then you realized how loud your distortion box was. Quickly making a choice, you yanked your mask off and stuffed it into your bra. You looked to the Aussie in front of you and he stared at you in shock. “Y-you’re a girl,” he marveled quietly.

“Yes, I’m a girl. You better get over it quickly or we’re both going to have bullets in our heads. Now, in my back pockets are two extra pistols. Grab them,” you elaborated.

“You’re kinda hot,” he commented with a handsomely crooked smile. You gave him a look as you blushed furiously. You hoped that the darkness was hiding the redness tickling your face.

“Now’s not the time for that,” you quipped, “I need you to grab the pistols. I can't grab them because the movement would be too sudden and we would, again, end up with bullets in our brains. For the second time, the guns are in the back pockets of my pants.”

“Right,” he nodded obediently. You sheathed your knife and raised your eyebrows in a go-ahead type of cue.

His green eyes stayed on yours as his rough hands slowly smoothed over your waist. There was something pleasant about having his hands on you. Not the time, not the time… Eye contact still maintained, you felt his fingers move down your back and graze a patch of exposed skin.

Your stomach did a gymnastics routine as he blinked at you with his long dark lashes. His hands started down the curve of your butt and something changed in his pretty forest-colored eyes. You prayed to whoever your maker was that you would be alive to explore it more in the future. You felt his hands grab onto the handles of the pistols.

The right side of your pants got lighter as he slid the gun along your hip and held it to you at stomach level. You grabbed it and prepped the barrel.

You were a little more than stunned when he wrapped both arms around you again. Still maintaining the staring match the two of you had, he grabbed the remaining pistol and pushed you into his chest. You looked at him with wide eyes, questioning why he did so. He returned a look that unmistakably said, trust me.

The scary thing was, that even though you vowed to never trust anyone else, you did trust him.

You nodded tentatively at him and he gave you a mischievous smile.

Before you knew what was happening, he had wrapped his arm around your waist and fired his gun that was in his other hand. You heard a body hit floor after the gunshot rang through the building. You saw the guard behind your human shield aim his weapon and you rapidly pushed the Aussie to the floor straddling his waist so he was underneath you. Safe. The case shattered above you and a shower of glass rained down on the two of you. You curled into his chest and waited for the glass to settle before sitting up and firing your pistol at the remaining guard. You got him in the first shot but he had fired his gun milliseconds before you fired yours. His bullet grazed your shoulder.

“Mother fucker!” you fumed. Your hand shot to grasp your shoulder. The Aussie sat up surprised by how quickly you had taken action.

“You alright there, love?” he asked with genuine concern. With a sour expression, you nodded.

He held out his hand, “I’m Digger, by the way.”

You clutched at your shoulder as it throbbed. You calmed yourself enough to speak up again.

“Y/n,” you offered in response and he smiled that devilishly attractive smirk. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?” He smiled at your suggestion. You stood up and he followed suit. “Which way,” you questioned.

You caught a glimpse of the bag of jewels lying mockingly by the case. You glared at it but not before grabbing it. Digger put his hand on your waist suddenly.

“Whoa, hey,” you pushed his hand away. “Let's not get handsy.”

“As much as I'd love to, you are in no position to walk. So I'm just going to-” he reached for your waist again and you swatted his hand away again.

“I can walk. Thank you very much,” you crossed your arms and whimpered at the pain it caused to your bullet wound. You remembered your ankle when you shifted your weight painfully. But you kept a tough face.

“Y/n,” he crooned lowly with his hypnotizing accent. Oh baby Jesus… You forgot that you were supposed to respond for a moment.

“Digger,” you replied in the same tone.

“You gonna walk or what?”

“Yeah, of course. I was just waiting for you to go first. Chivalry isn't dead, you know,” you said flatly. The pain in your arm was reeling.

“You're in pain,” he stated. He rolled his green eyes humorously.

“I'm in pain,” you agreed embarrassed.

“Let me help you out,” he offered, “you saved my life.”

“You saved mine.” You fired back.

Without another word, he handed you the bag of priceless jewelry and scooped you up in his arms. Digger only gave you a funny look and walked toward the exit of the museum.

After guiding him to your way home, you arrived at your apartment. You hopped lightly out of his arms careful to not put weight on your ankle.

Your apartment wasn't anything special. Unlocking the door you limped into your living room: your favorite spot in the apartment. It was simple but cozy. It had a couch, a cheap TV, and a plethora of blankets. Soft lighting from your old lamp helped sooth you despite your eventful day.

Digger locked the door behind you as you hurled the bag of expensive jewelry on your stained armchair. You lugged your first aid kit from under your couch and popped the latches open. You grabbed an Ace Wrap out and took off your shoe gingerly or attempted to as Digger sat down next to you. The TV was still on from earlier in the day. It was perpetually on the news channel for obvious reasons.

With difficulty from both the pain in your ankle and the throbbing from your shoulder you fiddled unsuccessfully with your laces. Wordlessly Digger grabbed your legs and pulled them toward him as he gently went to work on your shoe laces. Something about the gesture felt strangely kind and you didn't feel at all unsafe as he did so. Nervous in fact.

You watched as he pulled your boot off of your foot and tossed it unceremoniously to the floor. He gently rolled the ankle around testing its range of motion. As it was turned toward your other foot, a sharp pain shot up through your leg and stabbed at your hip. A scream of pain ripped through the air of your apartment and Digger jumped at sound.

You yanked your leg up to your chest but Digger wrapped his hand around your knee and pulled it back. A tear involuntarily rolled itself down your cheek. You turned your face away and handed him the Ace wrap. You felt the cloth slowly wrapped itself around your ankle. The pain throbbed as it got tighter and you winced as another tear silently fell. This hurt like a bitch.

You had clenched your eyes so tight that you didn't even notice that Digger had finished wrapping your ankle. You didn't even notice that he had seen you cry until his finger caught a third tear escaping your eye. Stunned again by his kindness, your eyes snapped open and saw how close he was. Less than a foot away, you gazed into the Aussie’s gorgeous green eyes. Your eyes darted down to his lips momentarily. Was he going to kiss you? He leaned forward and reached for your zipper.

“Not even gonna wait for the first date? Someone's impatient,” you smirked. He chuckled lightly.

“Definitely not gonna wait to get your shoulder cleaned,” he bemused, "but I'm flattered.”

“Oh. In that case,” you pulled the gloves off your hands and unzipped the top. You gingerly pulled it off your injured shoulder and tossed it to the side with your shoe. You grabbed the medical alcohol and sauntered to the bathroom in just your bra and pants. Digger followed with an amused smirk on his face.

You sat on the counter and leaned your shoulder over the sink. Or at least attempted to. Every time you put pressure on your arm it stung like no other. You cursed at your lack of coordination.

“Having trouble,” Digger asked as he leaned in the doorway. You only answered him with a look. No matter what you seemed to do it only ended in an awkward position.

“No,” you answered defiantly. He raised an eyebrow at you. You did need a little bit of help. “Fine. Yes. I need help,” you sighed relenting. “But only because you offered.” You eyed him warily as he grabbed the alcohol and took the cap off. “This is gonna hurt. Isn't it?”

“Only a little, love. I'll do it when you're not expecting it.”

“How could I not be expecting it when you literally have the bottle in your ha- OW!” Digger did do it when you didn't expect him to. You just didn't expect it so soon. A sharp sting raced up your neck and arm. Strings of creative curses escaped your mouth and filled the bathroom. “MOTHERFUCKER!”

He curtly set the bottle back on the counter. “All done.”

“‘All done.’” You mocked his accent. “You dump alcohol on my wounded shoulder while I scream in pain and the only thing you have to say is ‘all done’. I have half a mind to kick you out ri-”

But Digger didn't let you finish. He covered his lips over your angry ones. Your resolve melted into his kiss. You momentarily forgot about what had just happened when he pulled away. Mild disappointment washed over you. “Sorry about that,” you whispered. Your noses were still almost touching. “I’ve got a bit of a temper if you haven’t noticed.”

“I noticed,” he commented as he leaned his face forward to capture your lips again. You closed your eyes and sighed as he worked his mouth against yours. Somehow his hands slid down your hips and around your ass eventually finding the back of your thighs and lifting you to on top of the bathroom counter. Your hands instinctively made their way to his unruly light brown hair and his beanie fell to the floor haphazardly.

The intensity in the small bathroom only increased. Digger pushed the small of your back closer to him, the already close proximity not close enough evidently. You nipped at his lips teasingly and a chuckle hummed against his mouth and yours.

“Mrow.”

“What the hell was that,” Digger asked pulling away, just as startled as you were.

You looked to the source of the sound and found one of your cats rubbing Digger’s ankles.

“That’s Clyde.” You giggled. A second one, Bonnie, hopped up onto the counter next to you. The ginger tabby walked into your lap and began sniffing your face not even minding the awkward position that you were in.

“I should have known you were a cat person,” Digger crouched down next to Clyde as your third and final cat trotted into the bathroom. Capone, your tuxedo cat, sat right at the doorframe and observed the situation in the bathroom with a cool reserve.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. I rather like cats,” he beckoned to Capone, rubbing his fingers together. Capone blinked at him, took a few strides forward, and sat again this time just out of Digger’s reach. Somehow Clyde had made his way onto Digger’s shoulders and Bonnie was seriously contemplating joining him. Digger scooted closer to your tuxedo cat.

“It’s ok, Dig. Capone usually doesn’t take to…” You trailed off when your usually stoic feline laid down in front of Digger. “...strangers.”

The Australian shot you a cocky look as Capone basked in the attention of his new friend. Bonnie and Clyde took turns yelling at Digger for some of his attention as well. You laughed at how fast Digger had charmed your furry children.

“What?” He asked with a smile on his face. It wasn’t a flirty smirk though. It wasn’t ingenuine either. But it was a smile that you felt had been reserved for you. And only you. It was happy and warm and it was yours. Somehow, in that soft bathroom lighting with two noisy cats and the stench of medical alcohol after a successful heist Digger had wormed his way into your heart too.

You shook off your moment of introspection. “You really give a new meaning to cat burglar, you know that, right?” Digger threw his head back in laughter. “You’ve stolen their hearts in a mere matter of minutes.”

“Have I stolen yours?” There was that cheeky lilt in his voice that you would never admit was actually quite attractive.

“Now, now. Let’s not get cocky, casanova…”

“That wasn’t an answer.”

“Oh, shut up!”

“You like me!”

“What are you five?”

“You didn’t deny it either,” you rolled your eyes and picked up Capone as you walked out of the bathroom. You slung him over your shoulder like a baby and he sat there. He kneaded the air with his white mitts contentedly. “Here me out though. I-”

“Wait, do you hear that?” You shushed him for a moment as you rushed to the remote and turned up the volume on the TV.

The plastic-looking woman reported from her futuristic looking conference table, “We have some breaking news from Gotham City Museum. An armed robbery occurred about an hour ago and famous jewelry from the travelling ‘First Ladies and Royalty’ exhibit, amongst other priceless artifacts, is gone. Let’s send it over to Kaye.”

Your gaze met Digger’s in shock. You had been thorough… What went wrong?

“Thanks, Wanda. We are at the scene of the crime here at Gotham City Museum. This felony has left 2 security guards and 2 criminal accomplices dead as well. There is one surviving security guard but he seems to be suffering from amnesia. As of right now, there is no security footage of the crime as the main power grid and the back-up generator were hijacked during the robbery. There are two suspects as to who it could be.”

You gulped heavily, the suspense killing you.

“The first suspect is Catwoman who frequents jewelry heists and the level of mastery leads many to believe that this handiwork is of the feline femme fatale felon.”

You rolled your eyes at the fluffy wording.

“The second, more surprising, suspicion is not one but two criminals. Police suspect a Bonnie and Clyde copycat situation. There is no eyewitness account to go off of but a man on the street claims to have seen a couple, a man and woman, exiting the premises. Sir, can you tell us what you saw?”

The camera suddenly shifted to footage of what looked like a homeless drug addict. He eyed the camera warily. “Yeah, I saw a man and woman. Looked like they were married. Cute couple if you ask me. From where I was standing, it looked like the husband was carrying his pregnant wife.”

Pregnant? You looked to Digger suddenly. Why on earth… The man thought the bag of jewels was a belly with a bun in the oven! This was perfect! You burst out laughing victoriously. You had never been more thankful for the homeless and reminded yourself to do some community outreach in the following months.

“Thank you, sir. And is there anything else noteworthy to say?”

He turned to the camera dramatically. “I need to take a piss right now.”

You burst out laughing again as the reporter frantically told the camera to switch as the man proceeded to begin working on his pant’s zipper. Grabbing the remote again, you turned the TV off.

Digger just smiled at you mirthfully with a look on his face.

“What?” You questioned with a smile that matched his.

“A couple, huh?”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And pregnant?!” He shouted in mock excitement.

“Oh, calm down. You’ll wake the baby,” you teased while giggling.

“I’m not hearing a denial,” he said. You knew that he was only half-joking.

“You’re not getting a ‘yes’ immediately either,” you ushered him to the door.

“What?! Oh, this is just cruel!”

The two of you stood in the doorway of your apartment. “Next Friday at 7. Pick me up. Take me out to dinner then we’ll talk.”

“Maybe a little more,” he asked, waggling his eyebrows playfully. This man…

“Good night, Digger,” You laughed as you began to close the door.

Before you could shut it though, he pushed the door open a little more with his hand. You were a little bewildered until Digger pressed his lips against yours quickly. He pulled away just as fast and gauged your reaction.

You grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in for one more kiss. He enthusiastically kissed back. As you finished the kiss, you half-heartedly pushed him back into the hallway. You broke away with a smile and told him ‘goodnight’ for the second time.

You shut the door and the last thing you saw before closing it was his green eyes.

And you genuinely looked forward to Friday.

#captain boomerang x reader #Captain Boomerang #digger harkness #digger harkness x reader #suicide squad fic #captain boomerang fic #digger harkness fic

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keaalu · 7 years

Text

Remember Me, chapter one

Title (chapter): Remember Me (01)

Series: Transformers, G1-based “Blue” AU

Rating: PG-13

Notes: In which the coneheads have a fairly simple job to do, but Ramjet is pretty confident one of them (probably Dirge) will still manage to screw it up.

“I’m sure I could hit him from here.”

“We’re not meant to be shooting him, Dirge. We’re not meant to be drawing attention to ourselves yet. Or did you forget that part? Again?”

Sitting on a distant cliff right on the territorial limit of Vos, Ramjet had a headache coming on. He still didn’t understand precisely why Megatron had sent his trine back here, unless it was to get shot of the three of them for an orn or two. (Which Ramjet could understand; he’d have liked to be able to ditch his wingmates for a couple of orns, as well.) It wasn’t like this played into any of their specific skillsets. Spying on the former command trine was the whole reason mechs like Soundwave existed. They didn’t have a whole lot to show for their trip, so far.

And now he had to deal with a bored, argumentative Dirge. Sure, Ramjet loved his wingbros, but they really made his helm hurt sometimes – even more than flying into slag did, and he was actually engineered for that.

Ramjet tuned his brother out, returning his attention to the matter at hand. After Soundwave had picked up on some carelessly unguarded Autobot chatter that suggested there was going to be some sort of official celebration in the coming orns, the three coneheads had been sent back to Cybertron to get a feel for what was going on.

That idiot spacebridge guard had even asked them if they were coming for ‘that Vos thing?’ and had happily let them through when they’d lied that of course they were; what else would they be going back to Cybertron for?

They’d arrived to find the ‘thing’ involved Vos – correction, New Vos – being on the cusp of being recognised as an autonomous city-state once again. The celebration was the official recognition of that fact. Looking at the news reports, half the damn planet was going to be attending.

And Ramjet, one of a small number of pure-sparked Vosians, who’d survived Tarn’s attack, and dug out Primus-only-knew-how-many survivors, and fought against the Autobots that had wanted to keep them all grounded, and actually defended that ungrateful red slagger on more than one occasion instead of just letting one of Prime’s band of merry morons shoot him?

Not invited.

The white jet couldn’t help feeling just a tiny bit hurt. And vindictive.

Megatron had been cooking something up for a long time – something to permanently wipe the insufferable smirk off a certain jet’s faceplates. Ramjet was looking forwards to getting to see it.

Of course, the warlord hadn’t let all his remaining loyalists in on the details – didn’t trust them not to prematurely screw it up, Ramjet guessed. Fair precautions if Thrust was involved. All they’d been told was go to Cybertron, see what’s going on, and when you leave, make sure you leave my calling card. Preferably something that will get them to come to me.

The three uninvited mechs had quietly set up a scope on the escarpment, to watch proceedings from a discreet distance. New buildings in Vos had sprung up like weeds; even now, two small Seekers were carefully hoisting a girder to the working platform, their trine leader shouting directions down to them.

Thrust watched them with a curl in his lip. “Yeah, this looks so much better than working for Megs, of course. I’d so much rather be hauling building materials around like some dumb beast of burden.”

Ramjet kept his vocaliser carefully offline, to keep from pointing out that actually? Something about this sounded… tolerable. Something possibly even rather appealing about the idea. Coming home, helping rebuild. Not getting shot at by underclocked Autobots for the sake of a few dregs of energon.

If only it wouldn’t involve the need to thank the scarlet traitor. He was fairly confident his vocaliser would glitch out before he managed the words.

Atop an unfinished high central tower, a small group of Seekers had clustered; there were a few that Ramjet didn’t recognise, and didn’t feel inclined to try and get an ident off them, but Starscream’s ivory wings were present, of course, right in the middle. Acid Storm stood off to his left, and Thundercracker was close by on his right. That giant white Autobot bus sat in the middle of a little cluster of curious Seekers on the edge of the platform, apparently more interested in chatting with the residents and enjoying the view than contributing to the conversation.

No Skywarp, but that was no surprise. Even before ditching the ‘Cons, the mech had elevated slacking off to an art form. No great deal – he’d have probably been as useful as a cardboard blast shield to them, right now.

Ramjet wasn’t sure what they were discussing, but figured it was something political. Could never be a good sign when even your (supposed) friends didn’t really want to get involved.

Starscream’s laughter – a high, grating sound that set Ramjet’s denta on edge – was audible even over the distance between them. Nice to see some things didn’t change. He was gesticulating grandly about something, arms waving as though conducting an orchestra, although Ramjet couldn’t parse his words at this distance. In front of them, a holographic representation of part of a city hung in the air; it probably overlaid the real streets, so Starscream could demonstrate where he was thinking of building his palace, or some slag.

Ramjet glared at the back of the silver wings, as if he could somehow focus his optics into lasers and bore holes through them. The traitor actually looked good. Perhaps a fraction smaller than the conehead remembered, more lightly built, but he was clean, well-polished, and highly animated, so obviously not suffering from lack of energon. It made Ramjet feel slow and heavy – not to mention, reminded him how fragging depleted he spent most of his life.

He’d got all New Vos pledging their alliance to him, and half the dirt-crawlers in the neighbouring districts. It was like a giant middle finger to Megatron, and the dwindling number of remaining Decepticon loyalists. Ha ha, look at me, bribing all these suckers with gifts and false promises. They’re such a gullible bunch of idiots, it’s truly shameful your mighty leader couldn’t lie so convincingly as me.

It’s not our fault we’re stuck on Dirt, on the wrong side of the space bridge, dealing with underclocked Autobots who just have no idea of when to fragging quit.

“I definitely could hit him from this distance. Might even be able to knock half the other slagheads off in the process.”

Yeah, that headache wasn’t going to get any better any time soon. Ramjet glanced up at Dirge, who perched on the very top of the escarpment, cannons up, making a big show of measuring his aim.

“It’s not about whether or not you’re physically capable…” the white jet sighed and covered his face with one hand. “We’re not meant to be shooting him, Dirge, or we’d have done it already. It’ll blow our cover, if nothing else.”

“Your life wouldn’t be worth living if the Boss found out you offed him, anyway,” Thrust added, from his ledge further down the rockface. “You know he’s been fantasising about finally killing the slagmunch for vorns. He might kill you in his stead. Then we’d have to find some other depressive loser to make our numbers back up.”

Dirge made a little noise of displeasure and folded his arms. “This from the mech that watches far too much human-made entertainment, and is always complaining that the bad guy doesn’t just kill the hero when they get the chance.”

Thrust vented a snort and finally looked up at his wingmate. “We’re calling the Screamer a hero, now?”

Dirge ignored him. “Anyway, I never said anything about killing the fragger. I just want to knock that obnoxious smirk off his faceplates.”

“Fine.” Ramjet glared back into his scope. “If you can do it without him raising the alarm, feel free. But if you ruin this whole plan that we’ve been working on for the last quarter vorn? You’re on your own. You can rescue yourself when they come hunting you. And when Megatron comes for your wingtips.”

Dirge went quiet, muttering to himself. “Just wish he didn’t look so fragging smug. And comfortable.”

“Yeah, speaking of which,” Thrust glanced up at his wingleader, “remind me why WE haven’t ditched the ‘Cons and come home, like those three losers?”

Ramjet glared back, but without much heat, and Thrust didn’t back down. Why indeed. “Because we know the meaning of loyalty, to the mech that scraped us up out of the gutter while Vos burned? We don’t owe these traitors anything.”

“You act like they’d even let the likes of you in, in the first place,” Dirge sniped. “We half-smelted guttermechs have no place in Cybertronian high society.” He waved a hand, airily. “Why are you suddenly so interested, anyway?”

“Because it looks nice, over there? It’s not some stupid tin can on the bottom of the ocean on a planet of dirt? We could have it made, over there. Comfortable. Not starving all the time?” Thrust glared up at him. “If a buncha soft-sparked Autobots and wibbly neutrals let Starscream come live here, without even separating him from his spark for war crimes, why aren’t we getting in on the action?”

Dirge snorted and used one thruster to give his burgundy twin a shove-kick to the head. “’Cause you’d get shot at before you even get to say ‘hi, how’s it going?’? You know those three are territorial as it gets. You saw what they did to Astrotrain, and that was just for roughing up one of Skywarp’s femmes.”

Thrust rubbed his helm and pouted. “That’s why you broadcast something friendly while you’re still out of range of fire?”

“Yeah, and I got you a massive white sheet to wave while you’re at it.”

“You know what? That wouldn’t actually hurt to have.”

“Guys,” Ramjet groaned, finally lifting his head from his hands. “Did you ever think the reason we’re a laughing stock that never get anything done is ‘cause you two spend all your time bickering?”

Two sets of hostile crimson optics glared back at him.

Dirge leaned subtly closer; “Right, so, nothing at all to do with the fact our de facto wingleader’s a waste of space whose only solution to problems is to headbutt them?”

Ramjet came halfway up into a crouch and Dirge hastily stumbled backwards out of range. “Where you’re just all noise, and no substance? Right,” he sneered. “Anyway. If this all works, you might get your wish, Thrust.” He picked up the scope. “Come on. We’ve got one more job to do before we can head back to Dirt.”

New Vos was separated from Deixar by the districts of Tysta and Surkea. Surkea was still a derelict ruin, but Tysta had plenty of high perches a mech could put down on to watch the goings-on below, and plan their next steps.

Dirge peered through the scope. “All right, so I could understand watching the Screamer, but why are we spying on a bunch of grounders?”

“Remember the second part of Megatron’s instructions?”

“Leave a calling card?”

“Right. And you clocked that one of the dirt-crawlers is Skywarp’s brat, right?”

“Like any of us could forget,” Dirge drawled, sourly, folding his arms “Point being?”

“Point being, you unimaginative troglodyte, if we want their attention, how better to get it?”

#remember me #transformers #blue au #ramjet #thrust #dirge

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imagine-loki · 6 years

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Soulbonds and Fairy Dust

TITLE: Soulbonds and Fairy Dust CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 14/? AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine one of the fae has been helping the Avengers, jumping in to help them on missions and vanishing before Shield can bring her in. Loki joins the team and convinces her to come talk to the team and consider joining before Shield takes more drastic measures. RATING: T (so far) NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 here

Loki pulled his horse to a stop and you were forced to follow suit. The two of you were at the back of the group, so it took them a few paces to realize you’d stopped and they stopped too, waiting for you to catch up. They seemed to realize that you were in the middle of an important conversation and didn’t come interrupt or eavesdrop.

Loki had a serious look on his face when he turned to you. “Explain,” he told you firmly, his voice nearly icy. He softened a little when he added “Please,”

You didn’t quickly know what explanation he was asking for, but you started talking anyway. “I told you the gray lords are the most powerful of the fae. I have the magical power and physical fighting ability after years of duels for my life to qualify. I was ‘awarded’ the title when I came of age…” you were leaving a lot out, but that was the bare bones of it. Loki reevaluated the scars you hadn’t been coherent enough to hide back behind your illusions after closing the doorway. You wondered what he was looking at and blushed when you saw your arms and realized your scars were visible. You quickly threw your illusions back into place. You looked exactly the same, but minus the old battle scars.

Loki didn’t comment, though you knew he’d question you about the scars later. Instead he asked. “So you technically have a noble standing among the fae?” he was trying to get his head around what a gray lord was.

You nodded your agreement. “I do. I was the first new gray lord in at least 500 years,” you added as if that mattered.

Loki looked impressed anyway. He considered more implications of you being among the gray lords. “Will they try and bring you back to Underhill?” he asked.

You nodded again. “It looks really bad on the court that one of the gray lords abandoned Underhill in preference of the mortal realms…” you explained. It really did look bad on them that you’d left. They’d been searching for you since you had, which is why you’d had to hide on Midgard.

“When, in reality, they know you aren’t truly fae? That you were born an Asgardian goddess?”

You considered that. “I don’t think they realized that I’m an Asgardian goddess. They don’t know much about Asgard. And probably assumed only the royal family receives godhead,” you explained with a shrug. You hadn’t known until Odin had announced yours that you were a goddess. You owed him another explanation, though. “Also the gray lords are higher ranked than simple nobility,” you told him. “We’re the princes and princesses of the fae, at least in terms as you would understand them,”

Loki nodded, accepting your explanation. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“Probably a lot of things, but none urgent,” you replied with a smirk. Of course there were tons more things he probably needed to know. You just couldn’t think what they were at the moment.

“Will you tell me when we get back to the palace?” he asked, misunderstanding what you meant.

“I just meant that I’m sure there are things I’m not thinking of that you ought to know or would want to know. I’ll tell you if or when they become important or come to me,” you told him warmly.

“Alright. I can agree to that,”

“Did she just say she’s a fairy princess?” Fandral demanded loudly. Apparently they’d wandered back close enough to eavesdrop. You blushed and got shy again, curling in on yourself.

Loki glared at Fandral. “Would you shut up, you imbecile?” he snarled, jumping to defend you.

“But she’s a fairy princess!!” Fandral protested loudly as if it really mattered what your rank was. Or that you were half fae.

“She is of nobility in two different realms. What of it?” he asked Fandral as if Fandral was stupid. He was correct of course. Thor’s moronic friends were morons. Fandral most especially.

You groaned since you saw the childlike glee on Fandral’s face. He was annoying and obsessed with the fact that he thought this was some kind of fairy tale. “The courts of the fae are nothing like the fairy stories we were told as children, you moron,” you glared at him. You had to get this point across to him now before he did something stupid. “Do you really think I would have gone through so much to escape if they were? Now kindly shut up about it before I let L,” you growled. You were uncomfortable drawing so much attention or being so firm, but he had to know. It was important.

Loki smirked, looking proud of you. “You should listen to her, Fandral. I’m about ready to stab you anyway,” he added the last nonchalantly. He was just so casual about the prospect of stabbing his brother’s moronic friend. You didn’t blame him. At all.

Fandral wisely shut up.

You rode for awhile longer and reached the area of the fourth gate midmorning. You put your book away as you got near, since you could sense potential danger from the fae better than any of the others. You noted that Loki was sticking close to you. He was worried after the previous day and how drained you’d been after the last gate.

“There’s nothing waiting for us,” you told the part as you approached. You were still nervous. You didn’t trust the apparent safety of this gate. After the last two were so well protected, it seemed strange that this one was unguarded. Just because Tilly was allowing you to close the gates, it didn’t mean she was going to be making it easy on you. It wasn’t her way. It also didn’t mean the fae were going to let you, or would make it easy on you if they did.

Loki noticed your nerves and gave you a reassuring smile. “We will remain on guard, don’t worry, Sig,”

“I don’t like this, not after the last two doorways being so well guarded,” you confessed as you dismounted. You were close enough to the doorway that you needed to walk the rest of the way. The group dismounted to walk with you.

Loki stuck close to your side. “I’ll be right beside you the whole time,” he promised. You could tell that he understood your worry. He would do anything and everything to keep you safe while you dealt with the doorways.

The whole group stood around you and the doorway, weapons drawn and alert for danger as you sliced your palm open, summoning the power you needed to close the doorway. You spread your blood across both of your palms and gripped the edges of the doorway and tried to pull it closed. It wouldn’t budge no matter how much you tugged on it. You cursed loudly and in multiple languages as you let the power fade. It wouldn’t close and wasting power wouldn’t fix anything.

You turned to the group. “I have to go through. There’s something on the other side holding the door open,” you told them while they were all staring in awe at your ability to curse like a sailor. That wasn’t something typical of Asgardian ladies.

Loki looked nervous. He did not want you going into Underhill when the fae were desperate to get you back to rule in the seelie court. “Can anyone go with you?” he asked you gently. He wouldn’t let you face the danger along, not if there was anything he could do about it.

You considered that and finally nodded. “I can take two through with me safely,” you told Loki. You also knew that he needed to determine who was coming with you. “Whoever trusts me the most, or whoever you want to come with us, Trickster,” you told Loki. He would feel better being able to choose who came with the pair of you. Of course, he was going to be one of the two you brought through with you.

You were also much too close to Underhill and the creatures living on the other side to use his name or any variation of it.

Loki nodded and didn’t even consider before he turned to Thor. “Brother, would you be willing to come with us?” he trusted Thor with his life, and more importantly, with yours and your safety. He had fought side by side with Thor for centuries and while they didn’t always get along, the two fought well together.

Thor nodded immediately. “Of course,” Thor replied automatically. He seemed offended that Loki had even thought he had to ask. Thor looked to his friends. “Guard the gate on this end,” he told them firmly as he gripped Mjolnir more securely in his hand.

You looked them both over. You hesitated a moment for what you needed to do next to protect the three of you, but you steeled yourself to get it done. “I don’t know what’s waiting for us on the other side. I can give us some additional safeguards, if you trust me,” you told them both. You turned your attention to Loki “and if you don’t mind if I borrow a little power. You could use Asgardian magic for what you needed to. You knew Loki would rather you use his magic than drain yourself more trying to use your own.

Loki offered you his hand without any hesitation. “Take what you need,” he seemed relieved to be able to help you in any way, shape, or form.

You took his hand and after a small nod of thanks, used his power to cast illusions on the boys. It took a surprisingly little amount of power, mostly due to your own skill and experience. You lengthened their hair braided down past their shoulders, pointed their ears, changed their eye colors to tri-colored. You let the feel of fae magic surround them, disguising them as fae. “That should help at least until we know what we’re dealing with,” you told them. You couldn’t help appreciate how handsome they looked, disguised as fae. “Remember, don’t use any of our names while we’re there. Not even nicknames. It’s too dangerous when they’re looking for me,” you reminded them firmly. When they nodded their agreement, you took Thor’s hand too. You had to have physical contact with them to escort them safely through the doorway. “Ready?” you asked them. They both nodded and let you take the lead.

You kept a firm grip on both of their hands to lead them through the doorway. You couldn’t let them go until you were all safely through. Time and locations could get a little wibbly-wobbly when non-fae travelled through the doorways.

You hoped whatever was waiting for you on the other side wasn’t too awful for the three of you to handle.

You were beyond grateful that you didn’t have to face this challenge alone.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #Soulbonds and fairy dust #Chapter 14 #nekoamamori

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