#I knew my bad spelling would haunt me wherever I go
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poncivalpishpuff · 2 years ago
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My NeverAfter OC (warning spoilers up to ep 6ish)
Princess Catrìona
 Sister of Kate Crackernuts
  (Kah-tree-nah) The Scottish Gaelic name for Katherine (Kate)
The story of Kate Crackernuts
"Kate Crackernuts" is a Scottish fairy tale collected by Andrew Lang in the Orkney Islands and published in Longman's Magazine in 1889. The tale is about a princess who rescues her beautiful sister from an evil enchantment and a prince from a wasting sickness caused by dancing nightly with the fairies.
In the original version, both sisters have the name “Kate” and are the same age.
First Neverafter (Ep1-3]
Closely follows the original tale, with the dark times coming after their story ‘ended’
Both grew up in a Small forgotten kingdom bordering Jubilee
Catríona is the daughter of the King and Kate Crackernuts is the daughter of the new Queen (The Stepmother)
The Hen-wife and the Stepmother on the third try trick her into losing her beautiful head and switching it for a sheep’s one when she is 18
Kate grabbed Catríona's human head and they ran away to fend for themselves, where they came upon the kingdom of Jubilee
Kate finds that one of King Cole’s sons is sick, and goes on to watch him for three nights, following him to the Green-hill where faeries force him to dance the night away
Over three nights Kate gets the cures for her sister and the prince
Kate Crackernuts reunited Catríona with her human head and healed King Cole’s sick son from the wasting
The sick, now healed, son marries Kate and the good son marries the ill, now healed, Catríona [Their Happily Ever After]
As the war came to Jubilee they fought alongside their husbands and died on the battlefield at the age of 24
Present day post merging of the two lives:
The faeries of the Green-hill bring back Catriona into the new world
as something (the Stepmother) has reached Kate first,
they didn’t want to summon either of the princesses, but the princes have disappeared, due to Jubilee not existing, in this new version
the Mother Goose putting Old King Cole in the book, and his kingdom disappearing from the Neverafter [fairies and Catriona don’t know this]
in this world the Stepmother has stolen her human head and locked Kate away somewhere, stopping them both from escaping together
The second world Catriona had left her father’s castle on her own scared of her Stepmother who stole her head and of what the people would say of her sheep head.
Neither sister completed their set stories
Fairies task Catriona with finding the source of the stories going missing and bring it to them, for Catriona and Kate cannot have their happily ever after if their princes doesn’t exist
Throughout her journey in her second life, she has started to doubt the sincerity of the fairies, but for the major part still sees them as the preferable side and an opponent to The Stepmother
Returned around the same time as PCs despite dying much earlier than the group, the faeries were reluctant to employ a princess and spent more time trying to find other methods, the reluctance is noticeable to Catriona when she is in the in-between with the faeries of the Green-Hill
we'll see what happens in Tuffeton, but I think she would be tailing the party after hearing news of the disappearance of the massive spider that had taken the village previously
Her new body/skills
the stepmother still has her human head and in turn, Catriona now has the head of a ewe with curling horns she can use to ram her opponents. [Minotaur reskin]
she speaks with a sheepish lisp as she had to reteach herself how to speak common as she initially could only bleat when her head was stolen
she can speak to any type of sheep, and understands some goat tongue
This Catriona has been wondering the Neverafter after running away, studying magic as a force to rescue her sister, and combat the Stepmother [3rd level Fighter Eldritch Knight]
Break down of her Image
The head is of a Scottish Blackface sheep, where the ewes also have horns The armour is believed to be dated around 1515 from Greenwich, England, and belonged to Henry VIII The sword is a European sword dated around 1400AD The page is from a 16th Century manuscript written in Latin, Scots, and Gaelic
Again all original art and character designs are by Giuseppe Lama
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lakemichigans · 2 years ago
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tlou episode 9 thoughts!!
- I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I'M SO HAPPYYYY this has always been my favorite theory for why ellie is immune and it also means that, however unlikely, there actually could be other immune people out there. it wouldn't benefit the narrative to meet any other immune people yet, but in the future...? like a third game...?
- baby ellie just popped right out huh fksjfkd i guess the quickest way to speed up labor is to kill a zombie
- hearing ashley johnson's voice, especially hearing her use her sweet baby voice brought me to tears immediately
- joel seems a lot more aware & understanding of why ellie is so checked out, but still tries to cheer her up. in the game he's well-meaning but pretty much clueless. i like this change!!
- the giraffe scene was perfect, 10/10, no notes
- "i'll follow you wherever you go" 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
- i'm a fucking mess because of that conversation by the medical tents, that was an incredible moment to add and i wasn't expecting it at all. the look on ellie's face when she realizes that it's her, she's the one that "healed all wounds"
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- no sarah photograph? :(
- "we didn't tell her, we didn't cause her any fear" FUCK! that's the problem!!! the problem is that ellie would die for the cure if you gave her the option, but you were too chicken shit to tell her the truth! everyone in this room has their own (selfish) motivations and no one is thinking about ellie, not really, not even joel. IT MAKES ME CRAZY AHHHHH YOU'RE ALL COWARDS
- the hospital shootout was everything i wanted and so much more. joel found his reason to live and god help him, he'll fight for it -- no matter how many lives he needs to take to get there. it was so intense and the music was beautiful and it was just gory enough to make you feel the weight of the brutality without feeling like it's a cheesy slasher. also loved how many times joel reloading or switched guns. and his dead eyes throughout the whole scene are haunting
- wow, killing jerry happened so damn fast!! in the game, you can stand in front of him forever and he'll just keep pointing his knife at you (and in the remake he pleads with joel, "this is our future, think of all the lives she'll save.") but i love the decision to shoot him in the blink of an eye. joel is beyond caring about anything other than ELLIE ELLIE ELLIE. i do like that he doesn't kill the nurses though, because it's a purely practical mission: save ellie. everyone else is just in the way.
- no abby sighting? :( i really thought there would be one :(
- i'm a little bummed that the themes were spelled out so specifically by marlene and joel's last conversation, but eh, whatever. TV audiences tend to need things spelled out clearer lol. i'm a little surprised they took out the line "how long until she's torn apart by a pack of clickers? that is, if she hasn't been raped and murdered first". considering what happened last episode, i felt that line would ring more true than ever. kinda underwhelmed by this confrontation tbh, which is sad because it's so pivotal
- ohhhh god he expanded upon the lie 😭 that hurt so much worse. i'm devastated for ellie
- joel talking about sarah felt more painful than i previously thought possible. also adorable how he doesn't want to offend ellie by calling her "not girly" ajfjsjfksj
- maybe i'm just blinded by my love for the game, but i don't like any of the dialogue they changed in the final scene. joel's original speech is SO poignant and perfect but i didn't get the same emotion from this one. and there was no glance at his watch :( i would've preferred keeping riley's fate vague (we already knew anyway), because "i'm still waiting for my turn" is so much more emotional to me. ugh. i'm a little peeved they changed so much about this scene that has long been considered as close to perfect as possible :(
- i don't want to end on a bad note so let me just say that the entire experience of watching this show has been incredible beyond words. seeing a game i love so much be treated with care and passion, opening up a whole new world for people who never would have known about it before this... it's just amazing. i'm so grateful that this show exists and feels like a love letter to the fans rather than a cash grab. it's so damn beautiful
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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years ago
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Beautifully Beastly
Reader X Draco
Summary: It’s over ten years since the Battle of Hogwarts, and you stumble upon an old classmate and his son. Soon you find yourself in a large house, tutoring a young protege, and acquiring feelings for his father...? 
A/n: Okay, so this is the cutest thing in the world. I changed cannon of course, but isn’t that the point of fanfiction? Anyway, I know I tortured you guys with the last chapter of my Hufflepuff!Reader series, so here’s a cute one shot with a brooding older Draco and a lively Scorpius who just wants to learn everything. I love you guys so so much, let me know what you think!!
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“Draco? Draco Malfoy?” I asked, pausing at the park bench.
The same white blond hair was not longer and tied back at the nape of his neck. I would have mistaken him as Lucius if I didn’t linger. He had grown into his features, his eyes still the same piercing blue. It had to have been maybe ten years since I had seen Draco last. They were memories I didn’t dwell on often.
“Y/n,” Recognition flirted across his face. “What... what are you doing here?” 
“It’s a park?” A smile found its way to my lips. “I come here to clear my head,” 
He nodded, as if in understanding.
“So, what are you doing here?” I mused.
“I’m here with my son,”
“Son?” I was surprised. “I didn’t know you had a kid,” my eyes scanned the park and narrowed in on a little boy with white blond hair. “Should have known though,” I smiled. “His mother?” I sat on the opposite side of the bench.
“Died when he was seven months,” His eyes stayed on his son’s playful form in the distance.
“Sorry,” I offered, wrapped my arms around my midriff.
“It’s fine,” His lips pressed into a tight line, letting me know that it was not fine.
“I hear you’re a Head Auror,” I tried to keep pleasant conversation. “Brought in a lot of his followers,”
He didn’t comment. His jaw clenched and he kept a cool mask on his features. He clenched his left fist and drew it to himself almost defensively. I heard a lot of other things about Draco as well over the years. It was hard to escape the politics and news of the Wizarding World, but I knew Draco better than a news article, even if I hadn’t seen him in a decade—which spoke to how much the papers knew.
“Where did you end up?” He asked finally.
“Um, well, I’m a writer. Historian.” I clarified. “It’s been a lot of work lately trying to get everything written correctly. So many biased petty people wanting to get their two cents in,” I scoffed, my thoughts drawing to Skeeter, who still wouldn’t retire.
“Historian?” He mused. “So, you’re well versed in a lot of topics then?”
“I guess, yeah. McGonagall sent me a letter not too long ago asking me to come and teach. I... I couldn’t bear to think going back...” I looked down at my hands. “That place still haunts me.”
“Are you for hire though?”
That caught my attention.
“Hire?” I pressed, my brows quirking together.
“Private tutor, for Scorpius.” Draco nodded towards his son. “I’ve been looking for someone to come and start his schooling.”
“You want me to tutor your son?” I asked, quite shocked.
“You’d have lodging at the Manor, and all the books and supplies you needed, as well as a salary,”
I gaped at him. “Okay...?” I finally got out.
It took about a week, but soon I was moved into the Manor with access to the library wing, and the rest of the house as I pleased. The house elves had orders to answer to me as if I was there mistress—even though I hated the notion and protested.
Scorpius was hesitant around me for a few days, until he caught me practicing spells. He was delighted to see even a bit of magic, and I wondered if Draco ever did magic in front of his song. Draco gave me a vague outline of what he wanted me to cover with Scorpius, leaving a lot of it up to me. Which was for better or worse, the best mistake he could have made.
Draco seemed to realize that when he came home one evening and Scorpius and I were in the front lawn, covered in bowtruckles. The little boy was laughing joyously, playing with the small plant creatures. Draco started to yell, but seeing his son laugh, he paused and gave me a cold look before heading inside. I rolled my eyes at him and brought Scorpius inside to wash up for dinner.
“If you have something to say to me,” I baited, leaning against his study door jam.
“No,” He said curtly, his back to me as he leaned against his desk. “He should be well versed in herbology,”
I made an exasperated gesture and let it drop.
A few months passed, and I spent the days teaching Scorpius anything and everything. I had the weekends off, but still didn’t mind taking the young Malfoy to the park or lake or wherever else he wanted to go. Sometimes Draco accompanied us, sometimes he’d be gone weeks on end on a case. In those long periods of time I did my best to keep Scorpius happy. I taught him how to bake cookies and other sweets. I read to him bedtime stories, both muggle and wizarding—after getting a pinky promise from Scorpius that he wouldn’t tell his father.
There were some nights that Draco and I spent together, not intentionally. But he’d be in the library, reading from a pile of large old books, and I’d flit around, finding the material I wanted. Sometimes I’d ask him for a certain book, and he’d raise the one in his hands. It was always left on my desk in the morning.
A few nights I’d find him asleep in his large chair, the book that was in his lap fallen onto the floor. I’d pick up the book and drape an afghan around his shoulders. Neither of us mentioned it.
We shared tea and coffee in the early mornings before he was off to work and I had been up all night reading, our internal clocks aligning for no more than a quarter hour.
After seeing Scorpius to bed, one night in late November, I retired to my own room, picking up my book, continuing to read. The hours slipped away, and I was forced to stop reading and turn in for the night. It was a silent night... almost.
My eyelashes flickered open at the nudging on my arm. I met a teary eyed blond little boy.
“M-miss Y/n? I-I had a nightmare and d-dad’s not h-home,” He hiccupped, trying to hold back further tears.
I was immediately alert and awake, a gentle smile on my face. The light from the hall softly lit the room. I scooched back in the bed and held up the covers.
“Well, come on,” I encouraged. “It’s alright,”
Scorpius hurried under the duvet and curled up to my side without hesitation. My arms draped around him and my hands stoked his hair softly. I had no idea what I was doing, but it seemed to calm the young Malfoy.
“Nightmares, huh?” I asked softly and he nodded into my shoulder. “Can I tell you a secret?” Starling blue eyes met mine shining with tears and hope.
“There’s a way to beat nightmares,” I smiled widely and pulled my wand from under the pillow. “It’s called a Patronus,”
With practiced movements I casted the charm and a silvery ferret emerged from my wand. My eyebrows furrowed. The last time I casted the charm, it was a housecat. The ferret, however, bounced around in the air, circling around the room before hovering in front of Scorpius.
“You have a Patronus, Scorpius,” I let the charm fall, tucking my wand back away. “And it’s always protecting you,”
“But I can’t do magic,” The little boy pouted. “I don’t even have a wand.”
“A Patronus isn’t cast by a wand,” I watched confusion fall upon his face. “It lives inside you, in your happiest memories. And it always protects you.”
The little boy nodded, and I went back to stroking his hair softly. 
“I miss daddy,” He mumbled.
“I know sweetheart,” I sighed softly. “But he’s out there protecting you too. He takes down bad wizards who want to hurt you and everyone else,”
“People say that daddy is a bad wizard,” Scorpius was almost scared to say it.
I took a sharp breath in and exhaled slowly.
“I grew up with your dad,” I told him, rubbing his back. “And he made some... difficult choices. We all did. His choices didn’t work out so well, and people hold it against him. But we were just kids,” I sighed softly thinking of my last few years at Hogwarts. “I should have done something...” Shaking the thought I looked back down to Scorpius. “But your daddy loves you. So much Scorpius, and though it may not seem like it, you’re his entire world.”
He nodded into my shoulder again, and I pulled the covers around him. His eyes had a hard time staying open. I smiled, running my fingers through his hair still. Humming an old lullaby, we were both calmed to sleep.
“Scorpius!?” A harsh worried voice called.
My hand went to my wand as I cradled Scorpius protectively watching Draco burst in through the door. We both seemed to relax at the sight of the other. Scorpius stirred in my arms, blinking up at me sleepily.
“Nightmare?” Draco asked softly, kneeling beside my bed, reaching out to stroke his son’s head.
I nodded and uncurled my arms from around him, letting him cling to his father, he was now wrapped up in Draco’s arms. Draco disappeared from the room for a few minutes then returned. I sat up, turning on the lamp.
“I’m sorry about that,” Draco looked at the floor. “He’s been having a hard time lately.” 
I nodded. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”
“Thank you,” There was a weight in Draco’s eyes.
“Dray,” I called. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, long day, that’s all,” He rubbed his face. “One too many hexes... we got him though,”
“That’s good,” There was a silence that hung around us.
“How did you get him to calm down?” Draco asked, changing the topic. “It takes me at least an hour,”
“Patronus Charm,” I smiled. “And an old muggle lullaby,” I tacked on.
“Are you contaminating my son with muggle things?” The words were harsh, but there was a smile at Draco’s lips.
“A bit,” I smiled back. “He loves you Draco,” I confessed to my duvet after a moment.
He nodded and leaned against the door jam, his eyes slipping closed. I called his name and his eyes snapped back open. He grumbled a goodnight and lumber down the hall. I shrugged mentally and spent the next hour staring at the ceiling trying to figure out why my Patronus had changed all of a sudden.
It was a few nights later and I was awoken again, this time by muffled screams and cries. I sprang from my bed, wand in hand, Lighting Charm casted as I tore down the hall. The sounds were coming from Draco’s room. I barged in and saw him thrashing on the bed.
Nightmares must have been a commonality in the Malfoy household.
“Draco!” I called, setting down my wand and shaking his shoulder. “Draco! Wake up!”
His eyes didn’t flash open. He didn’t seem to notice me.
“Daddy?” A small voice called from the door.
“Scorpius go get me a glass of water, please,” I threw the task at the young boy to get him out of the room. He scurried off.
“Come on, Draco,” I whispered, throwing back the sheets. “You can beat this,”
Grabbing my wand, I went through a mental list of spells that might wake him up, but I took the notion after dealing with Scorpius’ nightmares and casted my Patronus. The ferret instantly soared towards Draco, diving into his chest and disappearing. I stared, awaiting.
“Draco?” I asked again, sitting beside him on the bed. Hesitantly, I reached out and took his hand. “Please wake up Draco,” I pleaded softly. “It’s just a dream,”
Blue eyes flashed open and wrestled me to the ground, wand under my throat, a wild look in his eyes. I raised my hands in surrender, raising my eyebrows at him.
“It’s me,” I soothed. “It’s just me,”
Draco groaned and released me, rubbing his face. He sat on the floor, leaning against the bed frame. I sat next to him. We didn’t say anything. There wasn’t much to say. The patter of little feat had us both looking at Scorpius enter the room, glass of water in his shaking hands. He offered it to me, and I passed it to Draco who downed it instantly.
“Are you okay daddy?” Scorpius asked meekly.
“Yeah, I’m okay bud,” He nodded. “Just a dream,”
“Don’t you have a Patronus like Miss Y/n? She says it protects you from nightmares,”
“It’s okay sweetheart,” I smiled tiredly. “I let him use mine tonight,” Standing, I lifted the little boy into my arms. “Let’s get back to bed, huh?”
It took a while, but Scorpius did finally settle down enough for me to feel comfortable to leave him—it did require a bit of spell work. A simple spell that left his bedroom ceiling reflecting the starry night outside—what my parents used to do for me. Another soft muggle lullaby and the stars beckoned the young Malfoy to sleep.
When I turned to leave, Draco was waiting for me in the hallway. Something gripped my heart when I saw the brushed away tears on his face. Without thinking, I wrapped him in my arms, pulling him close. He didn’t push me away. Instead he clung to me, the same way that Scorpius did.
My hands laced into his long silvery hair, carding through it. He pressed his face into my shoulder—having to hunch himself down to accomplish the feat—and inhaled deeply.
Before I wanted him to, he pulled away. Again, we didn’t say anything. Deciding that I wasn’t going to leave Draco on his own either tonight, I took his hand and led him back to my room. He didn’t protest. I nodded to the bed and got in on one side and he got in on the other. There was a tension between us that dissolved when I reached out for his hand in the moonlight.
“Has your Patronus always been a ferret?” He asked softly. 
“It was a cat up until recently,” I confessed.
We fell back into silence and remained like that until my eyelids became too heavy to open again.
“Thank you,” Was the last thing I heard before being pulled under.
In the morning, he was gone. I expected it though, he had to work at the Ministry. It was the entire point of my being at the Manor, to watch after Scorpius while his father worked. That and tutor him, but that was become less of a priority the more time I spent with the small family.
That night, however, I was on the verge of sleep when I heard my bedroom door open. A familiar silhouette slunk through the darkness, padding across the wooden floor. A small smile grew on my face as Draco slipped into bed next to me, lying very still. My heart raced. I rolled onto my back and we both stared at the ceiling in silence. Our soft breaths were the only thing heard. His hand reached for mine in the darkness.
He was gone again in the morning. I sighed and sat up, rubbing my face. My feelings were confusing themselves as questions swarmed in my mind. Draco was home for dinner that night. Scorpius went on and on about the day we had: I introduced him to Latin.
“They’re just like spells!” He exclaimed. “Miss Y/n showed me!” 
“You know Latin?” Draco looked at me.
“Spent a few semesters at a muggle college learning it,” I shrugged. “Some records only have copies written in it.”
He didn’t comment.
I retired to my room early that night, worrying my lip the entire evening, trying to figure out what was going on. It was all so confusing. Sometimes I thought I saw something in Draco and he in me, but... what did I know?
Draco was preparing for another long-term case. It was only a week. Scorpius tried not to cry in front of his father, but later the young Malfoy ran to me in tears. I lifted him into my arms and rocked him softly. I began to sing another muggle lullaby, a new one. It caught his attention as he calmed to listen to my new melody.
“How do you know all of these songs?” He asked with watery eyes.
“I used to get scared too,” I confided in him as I laid him into bed. “Sometimes I still do. They’re another secret to keep from being afraid.”
“But where do they come from?” He asked.
I smiled and pulled his covers up. “That... is something I’ll have to talk to your father about. It’s complicated,”
“Why?”
“Because they’re all muggle songs,” I explained softly. “And your father is...”
“Against muggles?” Scorpius frowned.
“No,” I responded immediately. “But though I teach you, I don’t have liberty to tell you everything my dear,”
“Why not?”
“Because...” I sighed. I’m not your mother.
“It’s complicated?” Scorpius gave a familiar smirk that once belonged to his father. 
“Quite so,” I replied and stood. “I’ll talk to him before he leaves.”
“Night Miss Y/n,”
“Goodnight Scorpius,”
I closed his door and leaned against it for a moment before finding my courage to go and find Draco. I found him packing in his study, gathering books and various magical items. I knocked on the door frame.
“Yes?” He didn’t look up.
How was I supposed to start this conversation?
“Y/n?” This time he did look up, worry in his blue eyes. “What’s wrong?” He set down his bag and came over to me. “Is Scorpius alright?”
“Yes, he’s fine,” I answered quickly. “He... Am I allowed to show him muggle movies?” The question was barely audible.
Draco’s expression sobered as he went back to his desk.
“They’re just fairytales, Draco.” I reasoned softly. “Just stories...”
“And they were just lullabies,” He snapped. “I should have stopped you the first time you sang to him... muggle songs... my son wanting to hear muggle songs... and movies...”
It was like a slap to the face. I took a small step back. Maybe I had been wrong, and Draco was still against muggles.
“If they’re so awful, why didn’t you stop me?” I snapped. “You had every chance to stop me.” 
“I’m stopping you now,” His voice was ice.
“You can’t do that,” I argued back. “He wants to know!”
“I do as I please! I am his father! You work for me! You will do as I say!” He threw down a book and stormed over to me, fury written on his face.
“Then I resign,” I bit out.
He faltered and froze.
“What?”
“You heard me,” I tilted my chin back. “I will not be treated like a child. And I will not keep secrets from yours. He deserves more than that,” My voice was calm and even.
“And what do you know about what he deserves!?” Draco spat. “He isn’t your child! You aren’t his mother!”
“I know that!” I yelled back, tears in my eyes.
I turned away, covering my face, biting back the tears that wanted to fall. I took a deep breath. 
“I’ll stay until you return, for Scorpius’ sake.” I gritted out. “Then I’m gone,”
I ran down the halls of the Manor and slammed my door shut, locking it childishly. Then I broke down into tears, leaning against it. I quieted when I heard footsteps coming down the hallway. They lingered outside my door but made no attempt to knock or open the door.
The next morning, he was gone.
Scorpius noticed my somber mood almost immediately. He asked me why I was sad. Then he asked me what I fought with his father about, bursting into tears when I told him that I was leaving within the week.
“But you can’t go Miss Y/n!” He sobbed, crawling into my lap. I bit back tears and cradled him close.
“I have to,” A few tears escaped. “But that doesn’t mean I love you any less,” I stroked his face softly, brushing away tears. “But I can’t keep things from you, and your father won’t let me teach them to you. I can’t do that to you my darling,”
“I don’t care! I don’t want you to go!” He clung to me. 
“Scorpius, darling,” I tried to reason with a four-year-old. 
“No! I won’t let you go!” He cried.
I held him close, hiding my face from him so that he didn’t have to see me cry. I started to whisper out another song. It quieted his crying once more but didn’t stop my own. He slept with me every night that week. I knew it wasn’t a smart idea, but I couldn’t seem to get out the word ‘no.’
There was a loud crack in the foyer while I was teaching Scorpius how to write his letters—he had a habit of mixing up runes and letters. I rose, knowing the sound of apperating and rushed down the hall. Draco was lain on the floor, scantly breathing and bleeding, severely.
I froze at the sight and turned, catching Scorpius in my arms and ushering him away from the sight.
“Scorpius, I need you to listen to me very carefully,” I set him down, kneeling in front of him. “In my room there’s a green carpet bag with purple flowers on it. I need that bag. Please Scorpius,”
He nodded and took off up the stairs and I rose, shedding my cardigan and rolling up my sleeves. I hurried over to Draco, kneeling beside him, drawing my wand.
“Medicari,” I chanted, running my wand over his slain skin. 
The gashes on his skin vanished, but he still looked deathly.
“Draco? Draco can you hear me!?” I fought back tears, lifting his head softly, placing it in my lap.
Scorpius came in, my bag in his arms. I thanked him and ripped the bag open. He took his father’s hand, silent tears on his face as a house elf showed up behind him.
“Get out!” I shouted at the elf, drawing a vial from my bag: Elixir of Life. “Just one drop,” I whispered softly to myself.
Uncapping the bottle, I took the dropper and placed it to Draco’s lips that were parted, scarce breaths drawing through them. Just one drop.
Slowly Draco became less a sickly green and restored back to the beautiful pale complexion. His breathing became deeper, healthier. His lips were no linger blue, but the soft pink color they had always been. His eyes remained closed, however.
“Daddy?” Scorpius asked softly.
“He’ll be fine,” I whispered, mostly to myself.
My eyes trailed over his body, making sure I hadn’t missed anything else, and I noticed that his shirt sleeve had been torn and the Dark Mark was opaque black and surrounded by red and irritated skin.
“Death Eaters,” I hissed. “Scorpius, come here,” I opened my arms and the little boy ran to me. I held him protectively and drew my wand, casting Protective and Shielding Charms around the Manor.
“What are Death Eaters?” Scorpius asked.
“I’ll tell you later,” I murmured softly. “Just stay close for now.” My eyes kept darting around the room, expecting to see the dead walk again and my old nightmares come back to haunt me.
“Are you still gonna leave?” Scorpius sniffled, his tears staring to fall again. 
“No, sweetheart,” I consoled. “I’m not leaving you on your own.”
I was decided in that moment. It didn’t matter what Draco said to me or ordered me to do. I would stay for Scorpius’ sake. Even if that meant laying aside my pride. I would stay.
With the dreadful feeling that Draco might not wake up soon, I called a house elf—whom I apologized to upon seeing—and had her apparate Draco up to his room, and into bed. Scorpius was glued to my side the entire evening. The house elf came in later with soup and tea for dinner as well as a bowl of water and washcloth.
After dinner, Scorpius fell asleep in my lap. I gently laid him on the chaise lounge that was next to the bed and covered him with an extra blanket. Then I took the water and washcloth and began my task.
I took my time and gently washed the sweat and grim from Draco’s face, moving to his neck and arms. He looked peaceful like this. Years of harsh and cold looks were gone. Instead I found something reminiscent of a young boy at Hogwarts evident in his features. Without knowing it, I began to sing softly.
I unbuttoned Draco’s black shirt and continued to wash away the dried blood and dirt. It was a slow process, but it gave me something to focus on; rather than the crippling anxiety that loomed over me. My fingertips traced old scars that littered his chest in an abstract pattern. I wondered how many of them he had to mend alone...
I sat on the floor, leaning against the bedframe and tried to read my book, but failed. I just stared at the fire in the hearth and sang absentmindedly. The grandfather clock in the hall chimed three o’clock.
“Y/n?” A scratchy groggy voice called.
I sprang up and met tired blue eyes.
“Merlin, Draco,” I cried, tears springing into my eyes as I crouched beside him stroking his face.
He tried to sit up and I aided him, tears streaming silently down my face.
“Don’t do that to me!” I squeaked, cupping his face between my hands, sitting on the bed. “What were you thinking!?”
“I-I’m sorry,” He stammered, shocked at my cry of emotion.
I drew him into a tight embrace and buried my face in his shoulder. Tentatively his arms wrapped around me. After a moment, they started to rub my back as I cried into his shoulder.
“I thought I was going to lose you,” I confessed through tears.
“No, never,” His vow baffled me.
I withdrew and studied him, confusion and heart break on both of our faces.
“I’m sorry,” He took my hand in his. “It was wrong for me to yell at you like that. Or to say the things I did. Please, don’t leave. Even if you can’t stand to be near me, nor say another word to me again, Scorpius needs you,” A pause. “...I need you.”
Saddened blue eyes met mine and I pressed my lips to his without a second thought. His lips melded to mine instantly as he drew me into his arms. My hands went to his hair, knotting themselves into his long locks. His lips were hot and desperate against mine—mine even more so against his.
“Daddy?”
We quickly parted, both of our attentions snapping to a sleepy Scorpius.
“Why are you kissing Miss Y/n?” He asked, rubbing his eyes. “And why is she in your lap?”
After a moment of shock, I dissolved into laughter, hiding my face in Draco’s shoulder. I felt him shake with laughter too. One of Draco’s hands left my waist, beckoning Scorpius into our embrace. It took a bit of finagling, but soon we were all laying on the bed, Scorpius tucked between Draco and me. Draco pulled a blanket around us, pressing kisses to Scorpius’ head and to my forehead. My fingers combed through Scorpius’ hair as I watched him fall asleep to the soft melody that fell from my lips.
When I was positive that he was asleep, my gaze shifted to nervous blue eyes. I searched for answers, for an explanation. Draco seemed to pick up on that.
“They... Polyjuice Potion,” He started. “It was you; they were you... I... Merlin, Y/n,” He reached out and took my hand. “It was a living nightmare... your screams... they wouldn’t advance... it was days before...”
“Stars, Draco,” My heart broke at the picture that he was piecing together for me.
I could only imagine if the roles had been switched and it was Draco that I had heard screaming from pain and torture for days... not being able to do anything... trying to prove to myself it wasn’t real... What would I have done?
“You went in alone,” I realized. “You... Draco, what were you thinking? You could have been killed!” I whispered harshly, careful not to wake Scorpius.
“I... They weren’t going to take away someone else that I cared for. I wasn’t going to sit by and watch it happen,” His voice was firm and sure.
I reached out and stroked his face softly, his eyes connecting with mine. Nothing was said but everything was meant. It was moments like these that my regrets shone the most. I should have done more in school... I should have done something...
“I was going to stay anyway,” I confessed, my gaze dropping down to the young Malfoy. “I couldn’t leave him like that.”
“You... you would have let me order you around... for the sake of my son?” Draco’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Yes,” I whispered softly. “And I still will, if that’s what it takes.” 
My eyes met his again. There were tears in them.
“What did I ever do to deserve you?” Draco whispered softly.
I smiled and shook my head softly.
“It’s never about what we deserve, but what we do in spite of it,”
We fell asleep, the three of us, curled up and clinging to each other. It was peaceful, for once. When I awoke in the morning, I was alone. Frantically I looked around for Scorpius but relaxed when I heard laughter and a loud clatter downstairs.
Snagging Draco’s house coat, I made my way downstairs to find Draco and Scorpius in the kitchen, in various states of disaster. Scorpius was covered in what looked like flour—Draco not faring much better—and the kitchen counters were covered with pretty much every baking utensil and dish that the Malfoy’s owned. It was very hard not to laugh. So, I did.
“Scourgify,” I snapped my fingers and the kitchen began to return to a less chaotic state of being.
Scorpius marveled at the wandless magic as everything was placed in its proper order. I carefully made my way over to the two Malfoys, avoiding dishes and pans that floated around in a hurry to find their proper homes.
“Good morning,” I drawled, raising an eyebrow at Draco.
“He insisted we make pancakes the muggle way because someone taught him,” He raised an eyebrow back at me.
“I almost remember how to do it Miss Y/n!” Scorpius cut in between us, pulling at my hand.
Chuckling, I pulled him up into my arms and set him on the counter. Then I went around and gathered what was actually necessary to make pancakes. Draco watched quietly, offering things I needed before I could ask for them. His gaze and hands always lingered when they were upon me, and it left me a bit redder than I cared to admit.
With breakfast on the small kitchen table, coffee and tea brewed—a glass of milk for Scorpius— we ate in the company of one another. Draco started to chide Scorpius about the amount of syrup he was using, and I gave Draco an amused look and he refrained, sighing and reading the Daily Prophet. (It meant having to give Scorpius a bath afterwards because of the sticky mess, but it was worth it).
“How did you do it?” Draco asked as we walked the grounds, Scorpius chasing the wild peacocks.
“Do what?” I asked, eyeing a peacock that was getting a bit too aggressive for my taste.
“Last night,” He gave, but I still wasn’t quite sure what he wanted me to explain. “you saved my life. I know about every spell and potion out there... how did you do it so quickly?”
“Elixir of Life,” I paused and teetered my head. “Sort of. It’s the juice of the Fire-Flowers that grow in the Mountains of the Sun. Cures any illness and injury... as long as the person still has breath.”
“That what of what?”
I laughed. “Historian, remember?” I nudged his side. “You learn a few things. I think I have what’s left of it... no one has been able to find the flowers or the mountain any longer.”
“What did you go and waste it on me for then?” He exclaimed. 
“Um, you were dying?” I argued back. “It wasn’t a waste.” 
“I’m hardly worth keeping alive,”
“That’s not true,” I refuted stubbornly. “You mean so much to Scorpius, and to me for that matter. What would either of us do without you?” I looked to Scorpius who had a peacock feather in his hand, waving it proudly. We both waved back.
“He’d be fine. He’s strong,”
“He’s four, Draco,” I snapped. “He doesn’t need to be strong; he needs to be a kid.”
Draco pursed his lips and sighed. “Suppose you’re right,” He finally admitted. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing this right...”
“There is no right way to raise someone, Draco,” Then mended, “Okay, there’s no one certain way that you have to raise someone. And I think you’re doing just fine with him. He’s a great kid, Dray,”
“Miss Y/n! Look what I found!” Scorpius ran over, a small bowtruckle in his hand.
“Look at that!” I crouched down. “But you better go put him back, he needs to be with his family,”
The little boy nodded and ran back into the yard, crouching down beside a bush. Our conversation of the matter seemed to end there. Draco was called back into work and Scorpius and I remained outside for the rest of the evening. When he returned later that evening, Scorpius was fast asleep in bed and I was staring at the family portraits in the great room. Though the figures moved, they gave me no guidance on what to do. Draco came and stood beside me, gazing at the paintings as well.
“She was beautiful,” I whispered softly, looking at the painting of Draco, Astoria, and an infant Scorpius. “With more courage than a lion,”
Draco nodded and stared at his late wife. I gnawed at my lip and sighed softly.
“Sometimes I wonder how things would have changed if she was still here,” Draco confessed to the painting. “If they would have...”
“Well, you wouldn’t need me,” I smiled sadly.
“And why not?” He turned to me, confusion on his features. “Scorpius would still need a teacher,”
“But we never would have met in the park that day. It wouldn’t be me here...” My gaze shifted back to the portrait.
He went quiet at that, and with a deep breath, bid me goodnight and retired to his room for the rest of the evening. I gave the paintings one last glimpse and turned in myself. I was alone that night, not getting much sleep.
We fell back into an odd sort of routine as December ended. I attempted to keep my emotions for Draco under control as I continued to teach his son. I may have failed at the notion completely. I had convinced Draco to throw a small party for Scorpius for his fifth birthday and though it was only the three of us as well as Narcissa and Lucius, the youngest Malfoy was the happiest five- year-old in the world.
“Miss Y/l/n,” Narcissa gestured for me to join her in a quiet sitting room.
Setting down my plate of homemade cake—that I showed Scorpius how to make upon his request and pouting—I followed her. Anxiety grew in my chest as we sat by the warm hearth.
“It’s my understanding that you are tutoring my grandson,” She said softly. 
“Yes ma’am,” I nodded, fidgeting with my sweater.
“And that you care deeply for my son,” She gave me a knowing look.
I pressed my lips together and stared at the crackling fire.
“It doesn’t matter how I feel,” I repeated my mantra. “I can’t...”
“And why not?” My eyes snapped up at hers, a startled look on my face as she continued. “Draco has been through a lot, and I cannot change the past. Astoria aided him through some of it, setting him back on his feet, but you my dear, have brought back life to my son’s eyes.”
“Mrs. Malfoy,” I started, but she raised her hand to stop me.
“I understand if you do not wish to take on the family name, nor commit to a very broken man.”
“That’s not the issue,” I amended quickly. “I... I don’t know if Draco is ready... Sometimes I think yes, then other times I don’t know what’s going through his head... and I don’t want to lose him or Scorpius if I’m wrong...”
“We are never truly ready for anything my dear,” Narcissa spoke softly, reminiscing. “But I know my son, and I know that he has changed so much since you’ve been around. Do not be afraid of not being ready, it’s when true character shines through,” She rose elegantly and gave me a warm smile. “You are good for him,”
“Everything alright in here?” Draco stood in the doorway, a curious look on his face. I did my best to offer an encouraging smile.
“Yes, quite,” His mother smiled and swept out of the room with the grace of a swan.
I stood and readjusted the shawl around my shoulders. Draco’s eyes didn’t leave me as I walked over to him. He was still waiting for me to explain.
“It’s nothing,” I smiled and looked down. “We just talked about Scorpius and his studies, that’s all,” It was an easy lie, and I knew that he could see through it, but he didn’t call me out on it.
“Miss Y/n! Look! Daddy got me a book! Just like yours!” Scorpius bounded over to me, a thick leather-bound book in his hands.
“Isn’t that wonderful!” I beamed, bending down, examining the book’s cover.
Walt Disney’s Classic Storybook Collection: Volume Three
Shock flitted across my emotions as I looked up at Draco, my eyebrows drawing together. 
“They’re just fairytales,” He offered a lopsided smile and a small shrug.
I couldn’t stop the smile on my face or the warmth in my heart that grew. I rose, giving Scorpius his book back and went over to Draco.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I whispered softly. “I told you, it was alright.”
“You were right, Y/n,” He spoke in a hushed tone. “He deserves to know, and he deserves to be a kid,” He pulled me beside him, nodding to his son that played with a mix of muggle and magic toys on the floor, Lucius eyeing him warily and Narcissa beaming.
I leaned against Draco and watched Scorpius play in the firelight, pondering what Narcissa had told me. Was I really the one that brought life back into this small family? Could Draco hold the same regard for me as I did for him?
With his arm wrapped around my side, keeping me close, I thought that just maybe he could.
The night after Narcissa and Lucius had gone, Scorpius begged me to read from his new book as a bedtime story. I gave in and opened the gold leaf pages and skimmed the table of contents. I chose a familiar tale: Peter Pan.
“Is one of your songs from this story?” Scorpius asked, his eyes shining.
“Not this one, no,” I smiled. “But we’ll get to those, I promise,”
He nodded and settled in as I began to read the fairytale. Scorpius was fast asleep before Peter saved Wendy from the mermaids. I closed the book and set it on his bedside table, smiling and leaving his room, the door cracked open. Draco was in his study, hunched over a book on his desk, deeply focused. Passing the room, I headed to the kitchen and made two cups of tea before returning. Setting one on his desk next to him, I stood behind him, leaning against his desk chair.
He murmured a thanks and didn’t look up from the book. Gathering my courage, I sat my mug down as well.
“Draco, can we talk?” I bit my lip and looked down.
His blue eyes looked up from the book, his eyebrows raised, waiting for me to continue. I took a deep breath. Hopefully this conversation would go better than the last time we ‘talked.’
“I... have had a wonderful time, here over the past year, with you and Scorpius,” I began. He sighed. 
“I understand,” There was an air of melancholy in his voice.
“You do?” I wondered what he was referring to or if we were on the same page. It seemed like we weren’t.
“You wish to leave,” His gaze didn’t meet mine. “You tried, and it didn’t work, I understand.”
“What?” I took a small step back, wrapping my arms around myself. “Where in the world did you get an idea like that?” I paused. “Do you want me to leave?” My voice was as small as I felt in that moment.
“No,” He confessed softly. 
“Then what do you want?” His eyes flashed to mine.
“The truth?” He seemed nervous and afraid. I nodded. “I... I don’t...” He pursed his lips together and stood, his back to me, like it would make it easier. “I don’t sleep well when you’re not beside me. I don’t go a day at work without thinking about you. I feel the same need to protect you as I do with Scorpius.
“You understand my son in a way I’ll never comprehend, and I see you in him more and more every day. I’ve given you everything I can, and I still fear it’s not enough to make you want to stay. Because I’ve spent months trying to deny and conceal what I feel about you from you and myself and I can’t do it anymore.”
I gaped at him.
“And maybe keeping you away will keep you safe,” He whispered.
I rounded his desk and reached out, placing my hand on his shoulder. He turned, desperation in his eyes. I reached up and stroked his cheek softly.
“I love you Y/n,” As if the notion broke him. 
“I love you too, Draco,”
His hands cradled my face as he drew me into a scared, hesitant kiss. My hands splayed over his shoulders and pulled him closer. Holding another close, we melted into the other. Past fears, regrets, pains, and nightmares all laid aside for one shining moment.
“Don’t go away,” He whispered softly against my lips.
“Never,” I vowed. “You’re stuck with me now,” I smiled up at him. 
“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
It was a soft and gentle night. Draco continued to read, I brought my book and joined him in the sitting room that his mother and I spoke in not hours before. He was sitting in the center of the sofa and my legs were draped across his lap as we read into the late hours of the night.
With unspoken words and requests, we curled up together in his bed, in ridiculously expensive silk sheets and down pillows. My fingers absent mindedly traced the scars across his chest, my head nestled on his shoulder and his arm around me.
He rose early in the morning, placing a kiss to my forehead before heading to get ready for work. In his house coat again, I saw him off, kissing him softly before he departed. Contented, I went to wake Scorpius, humming softly to myself. He insisted that I read him another fairytale after lunch, and I compromised and agreed I would after his lesson.
Draco returned that evening, in a pleasant mood, placing a kiss on my cheek, before lifting Scorpius into his arms, asking about his son’s day. The young Malfoy babbled about the tale of Peter Pan and Captain Hook, saying he wanted to fly like Peter.
“Do you still have your broom?” I mused, curious. “I remember someone being quite the quidditch player,”
Scorpius’ eyes lit up. “You know how to play Quidditch!?” He exclaimed.
I laughed as Draco set down his son, the three of us heading out to the backyard where Draco produced two broomsticks. The wood hummed in my hand the same way that my wand did and responded to my thoughts. Draco and I hovered just above the ground. He pulled Scorpius onto the broom with him and kicked off, soaring high over the Manor. I laughed and chased after them. We flew until the setting sun provided no more light.
Scorpius was asleep in my arms as we headed back inside. Draco followed me up the stairs, helping me tuck his sleeping son into bed. With his arms wrapped around me, Draco and I watched the peaceful slumber that Scorpius had claimed.
“You’re a good mother to him,” Draco whispered lowly, not to disturb his son’s slumber.
My heart fluttered at his words, my lips curling into a smile. A new sort of anxiety set into my chest.
“And you’re a great father,” I gazed up at him through my eyelashes.
Again, Draco and I curled up together in the quiet of the night, talking about anything and everything. What we had been doing the past ten years, what jobs we had taken, how our families were. Some nights Scorpius would join us in bed, either from loneliness or nightmares.
We hold him, as I found another melody to put him to sleep again. In fact, my lullabies had a habit of putting both Malfoys to sleep.
In the park one spring afternoon, Scorpius went off and played with other kids his age. It made me smile, knowing that he probably craved the company of those his age. Draco and I sat together on the same bench where it all started.
“Does that boy look familiar to you?” Draco mused, nodding to the child that Scorpius was laughing with, chasing around the swing sets. There was another little girl with them, with bright red hair and an older boy who held more of a likeness than the younger one.
My eyes started to scan park for the Potters.
“There,” I pointed inconspicuously towards another couple a few benches down from us. “Should we go say hi?” I mused.
Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you’re still harboring a grudge.” I laughed. “We were kids, Draco. Besides,” I nudged his side. “It looks like Ginny beat me to it.”
The two Potters came walking over, one sulking, one smiling brightly. Draco and I stood, mirroring the other couple.
“I thought I knew a Malfoy when I saw one,” Ginny grinned at me and Draco. 
“Ginny,” I beamed, and we hugged.
“It’s been too long Y/n,” She smiled.
The two boys seemed to be having a stare down, neither giving in. I slipped my hand into Draco’s and Harry’s eyes darted to the gesture, then to my eyes. I offered a smile and Harry seemed to backtrack a bit.
“Daddy! Daddy!”
Both Draco and Harry turned.
Scorpius came bounding over smiling hugely. Draco crouched down, a smile on his face as well.
“Daddy! I made a new friend! We’re lost boys together!” Scorpius beamed. “And his brother is Peter Pan and his sister is a lost boy like us!”
The other three children came over, all flocking to Harry and Ginny, telling about the same story that Scorpius did, who was now in Draco’s arms, still going on about their adventure.
“You son knows about Peter Pan?” Harry asked skeptically. “Isn’t that a bit muggle for your lot?” There was a snide tone in his words.
“They’re fairytales Harry. Let them be kids,” Draco responded coolly, like I hadn’t spent months trying to get that through his head.
“Miss Y/n knows all about fairytales! She’s really good at singing them too! She’s been teaching me about so many things!” Scorpius could barely hide his excitement.
Harry looked at the three of us, baffled.
“Seems we have a lot to catch up on,” He finally spoke.
“You’ll have to come by the Manor sometime with the kids,” Draco offered to everyone’s shock, including mine.
“Er, yes.” Harry narrowed his eyes. “I’ll have Ginny send an owl,”
Draco gave a small nod and set Scorpius down.
“Men,” I heard Ginny muttered and grinned.
The young Malfoy clung to my side, holding my hand. This seemed to surprise Harry and Ginny both.
“Are you ready to go, darling?” I asked Scorpius, crouching down. Scorpius gave a small pout. “No crocodile tears,” I tickled him, lifting him into my arms. “Or I’ll just have to make dinner myself tonight...”
The young Malfoy perked up at that. Every once in a while, I’d cook dinner myself, the muggle way and Scorpius was always keen on learning how. Draco joined us on those nights, showing his son how magic also worked in the kitchen.
“I’ll send an owl,” I smiled to Ginny and Harry. “Say goodbye Scorpius,”
A chorus of goodbyes rang about the four children and Draco and I apparated home. Scorpius bounded off to the bathroom to wash his hands at my request before we started dinner and Draco cornered me against the counter in the kitchen.
“Was that so bad?” I smiled up at him, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Terrible, absolutely dreadful,” He smirked, pressing a kiss to my lips. “Potter,” He snarled in a familiar tone that had me laughing.
“Oh, some things never change, do they?” I laughed into his shoulder.
“Afraid not,” Draco chuckled. “Thank you, for staying by my side.” His words were soft and low.
“Of course, always,” I murmured, tugging the hair tie from his hair and running my fingers through it. His eyes closed as he relaxed under my touch.
“I love you,” His tone was soft. 
“I love you too,”
Something lingered in his eyes. Something that he hid and something that made the butterflies in my chest flutter anxiously. A question that we both waited for.
It was a few days later that the Potters came over to the Manor, along with the youngest Weasleys and their parents, and another teen who was just as much family as the five kids that accompanied them.
It was tense and awkward for some time between Harry, Ron, and Draco, but with some easy planning and quick thinking between Ginny, Hermione, and me, it faded. We all sat comfortably
out on the back porch, watching the kids play in the yard. I couldn’t help but smile watching Scorpius finally having someone his own age to play and imagine with. Draco seemed to have the same thought because his hand found mine.
“So how did you two end up together?” Ron asked, not so stealthily to Hermione’s dismay.
I laughed and Draco smiled.
“Draco hired me to tutor Scorpius,” I shrugged. “And well...” I looked to Draco and smiled.
“That explains why Scorpius knows so many muggle things,” Harry laughed. “I never thought I’d see the day,”
Soon we all began swapping stories, catching up with each other’s lives. It was nice to be beside Draco and other friends from school. The memories that always haunted me about Hogwarts seemed to fade as the afternoon went on. Dusk came and the two other families bid us goodnight. Scorpius was sad to see his friends go, but with a promise that they would be back, he seemed alright. It wasn’t hard to get him to bed that night, he was fast asleep after the first verse of my lullaby.
An early June day, Scorpius insisted that we make another cake for Draco’s birthday. I laughed and let the young Malfoy pull me to the kitchen as we started our adventure. When Draco came home from work, he found us both covered in frosting, laughing. At least some of the frosting made it onto the cake.
“Happy birthday, Daddy!” Scorpius yelled. “We made a cake!”
“I see that,” He grinned, setting down his case and shrugging off his robe. “And a mess,”
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my cheek then lifted Scorpius into his arms. The little boy giggled, and like every day that Draco came home, began to talk about his day.
“Happy birthday love,” I smiled, leaving them to catch up.
I snapped my fingers and the kitchen began to clean itself again as I set the cake onto a cake stand, I had found in the pantry. With dinner eaten and cake devoured—and no longer all over Scorpius and I—the night was quiet once more.
“Now,” Draco sat Scorpius on the counter. “A little birdie told me that someone wants to see a certain movie?”
Scorpius’ face lit up and nodded enthusiastically. I raised an eyebrow at Draco, who grinned. He lifted his son into his arms and led us both to a small sitting room where a screen and projector had been set up. I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand, tears pricking my eyes.
“Dray,” I breathed out. “You didn’t have to...”
“It’s about time he gets to see them, no?” Draco set his son down on the mountain of pillows and blankets that resided on the floor. “He deserves to be a kid.”
I pulled Draco into a hug. “I love you,”
“I love you too,”
Drawing away, I looked at Scorpius who was waiting more or less patiently.
“And every kid deserves a pillow fort.” I drew my wand and crafted a structurally sound fort, big enough for the three of us.
Nestled down into the fort, Peter Pan began to play. Scorpius was glue to the screen, taking in every moment. In fact, both Malfoys were. Laying my head on Draco’s shoulder, I combed my fingers through Scorpius’ hair.
“If you father knew about this,” I murmured into Draco’s ear, causing him to chuckle. 
“He doesn’t have to,” He grinned like a rebellious teenager.
About twenty minutes into Beauty and the Beast, Scorpius was fast asleep in my lap. I chuckled and Draco helped me up as we put him to bed. I headed back down to the makeshift movie room where the movie was still playing to clean up, but Draco caught my hand. I looked at him expectantly. With a snap of his fingers the room cleaned itself and he pulled me to the cleared floor.
“Dance with me,” He gestured to the dancing pair on the screen.
I laughed and nodded, taking his hand and letting him lead me in a familiar waltz. Though I hadn’t done it in some time, my feet remembered what to do. It was intoxicating, dancing with him. It took me to a world of far off places, magic spells, and a prince in disguise. I sang softly with the music playing, the words setting in both of our hearts.
Ending the dance with the fading melody, our eyes locked both panting softly. He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine in a sweet loving kiss, something hidden in his warm eyes when he withdrew. My gaze dropped, a blush on my cheeks.
“Y/n?” He called softly.
I looked up, expectant. Waiting for those four words, dreading their moment but wishing their arrival.
“When we were younger, we lived in a different world,” He began softly. “Things were a lot less complicated. And if, as we are now, met back then... I would have courted you. I may have stolen a kiss or two but only after asking your father’s permission... but we are both very different people now, and I know it’s not the same, but if it were...” He took my hands and slid down onto one knee. My heart hammered in my chest, tears welling into my eyes as a smile grew on my face.
“I would have got down on one knee and I would have presented you with a ring.” He pulled out a small velvet ring box from his pocket and opened it, revealing a ring. “Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n, I promise to love you every moment forever, would you do me the extraordinary of honor of marrying me?”
With tears streaming down my face I nodded. 
“Yes,” I cried. “Yes, yes, yes!”
A smile broke out across Draco’s face as he scooped me into his arms, spinning me around. We were both crying and holding each other. Little ‘I love you’s left our teary-eyed kisses. He slipped the ring onto my finger: a silver band woven with diamonds and emeralds that enchanted itself to fit my ring-finger.
We didn’t let go of another that night. A night that was filled with soft words, gentle kisses, and loving touches. In the morning, Scorpius burst into our room and bound onto the bed, pulled my left hand into his sights as soon as he was close enough, squealing when he saw the ring.
“I told you daddy!” Scorpius beamed. “I told you she would say yes!” 
“That you did,” Draco ruffled his son’s hair.
I smiled at my boys and pulled them both close. The morning was lazy and filled with laughter and moments that I wanted to hold close forever.
.
.
List of Muggle Lullabies: 
Stay Awake, Mary Poppins
Feed the Birds, Mary Poppins
My Favorite Things, The Sound of Music
Edelweiss, The Sound of Music
Once Upon a December, Anastasia
Lavender’s Blue, Cinderella
A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes, Cinderella
You’ll Be In My Heart, Tarzan
Beauty and the Beast, “”
Remember Me, Coco
You Are My Sunshine, Jasmine Thompson
.
.
Part 2
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Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda@bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey@theres-a-dog-outside-omg @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise@dietkiwi@katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things@tmnt-queen @mccloudchloe @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie@xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper@ninacotte@mccloudchloe @braelynn-j @jiggllyy @honeymarvel@go-whovian-universe @darcypottah @atomicpunkrock@thiccheerioss @lottie289 @boredashaeck @beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde @iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread @atomicwonderlandmentality @okaydraco @the–queen-of-hell @langdonzvoid @cmxreader @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing @tulippings @thestressedprincess @sunflowerxsadnessw @caps-wilsonn @fattycooter @angelotakunerd08 @thisisahugemistake @fanficsigottaread​ @gweaslvy​ @okaydraco​ @strawberriesonsummer​ @ughjjloveme​ @honeymarvel​
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keelywolfe · 4 years ago
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FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.19 (spicyhoney)
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Summary: Stretch has been through a lot in his short time in Backwater, but there's always the Dorothy option.
~~*~~
Read ‘The Dorothy Option’ on AO3
or
Read it here!
~~*~~
As much as things changed, they also stayed the same. But they still changed and there wasn’t a damn thing Stretch could do about it. He never could.
After Red cut him loose from the shop for the day, walking across the main street to the movie theater was the same, but the breeze cutting through the sweltering heat was different. A couple days ago, Stretch would have eagerly lifted his face into it, let it dry the sweat rolling from his skull and basked in the cooling effect.
Today it was a reminder that summer was actually ending, and autumn was creeping in one slow step at a time. He’d always liked the fall season since they came to the surface, there was no such thing in the Underground. But now that he knew what was coming with the end of the harvest season, it only made him a little sad. It wouldn’t be too long until the scarecrow pole in all the fields was empty.
Stretch paused outside the theater, looking back towards the shop and past it, to the forest behind it. He was too far away to hear the rustling leaves, still green and vibrant, untouched thus far by the changing season. He could still hear it somehow, like a leftover echo, the memory of that sound loud in his head as he turned back to the theater, the constant chatter of leaves scratching inside his skull.
The sound cut off like a stopped tape recorder as the door swung shut behind him. Igor was right inside, looking a lot like an out of work funeral director in his threadbare suit. He looked up from where he was sweeping dandruffy bits of popcorn into a pile and wordlessly went behind the counter to scoop out two cartons of fresher stuff. The dilapidated marquee over the concession stand had only one title on it. ‘The Wizard of Oz’.
“weren’t you playing this flick just a couple weeks ago?” Stretch asked curiously, handing over a fiver.
“Popular movie around here,” Igor told him, tonelessly. Yeah, okay, movies about Kansas and great farming fields, and wonderous unknown worlds where danger lurked. Wasn’t hard to see how people around Backwater could form a parallel to that, hell, there was probably a shrine to Judy Garland in every house on the street, set up with offerings of corn and tiny water buckets.
He looked down at the popcorn cartons that were sitting on the counter, the smell of fresh melted butter rising, and asked abruptly, “can i get a box of raisinets, too?”
Igor nodded and took back the single bill he’d laid down, the box of candy rattling loudly as he set it on the countertop.
Stretch took it and the popcorn and headed into the theater. What was that about, he wondered. He didn’t even like raisins. Maybe he’d take them back for Red.
The theater was empty, without so much as an abandoned soda cup in the aisles and the floor still swept entirely clean. So much for people loving this movie. Stretch sat down in the far back row with his popcorn and candy to wait.
Right on schedule, the lights went low, the MGM logo came up, and then with a swell of music Kansas appeared in a grainy sepia.
He’d seen the Wizard of Oz before coming to Backwater. The first time he’d seen it, they were still in the Underground and it was hard not to make the odd mental comparisons when they came to the surface. Now that he was here in this town, Stretch related to Dorothy more than ever. A stranger in a strange land, sure, but the scarecrow sidekick was pretty damn specific. Would Edgar Allen even know what the yellow brick road was? He was pretty sure the scarecrow in his life didn’t get out of his fields much, if ever.
Never going anywhere, never really living. He sat out there in fields with corn and crows for company, guardian and prison as one. Stretch wondered if that was as sad as his mind kept trying to make it or was he putting his own pathos on an anthropomorphic personification of a scarecrow. Maybe Edgar Allen was perfectly happy with his lot in life. Hell, maybe he was looking forward to the harvest season and a chance to rest without the corn chattering to him all the time, it was possible.
Thinking that made him feel a little better about the situation and Stretch sank back into his chair and munched on another buttery handful of popcorn.
He was so absorbed in the movie that at first, he didn’t notice the seat next to him was no longer empty. A blood-streaked hand reaching towards the other carton of popcorn was his first clue and Stretch bit back a yelp, soul hammering in his ribcage as he inwardly cursed himself for being so jumpy. Wasn’t like he hadn’t seen this before, loads of times now, it was what he bought the second carton for.
“hey, there,” Stretch said softly to his ghostly companion. “sorry it’s been a few days.”
“That’s all right,” Doris told him, her faint voice barely audible over the strains of ‘We’re off to see the Wizard.
The Tin Man was lamenting his lack of heart by the time Doris spoke again, tentatively and filled with quiet apology. “I’m very sorry, I feel as if I should know your name, but…”
Oh. Stretch closed his sockets briefly. Damn it, Red warned him about this, to not be surprised if she didn’t remember him. He didn’t allow the faint sting of hurt to show. It wasn’t her fault, it was entirely the fault of whoever had blown away part of her head and left her here to haunt a lonely, dilapidated old theater until it was time for her to go wherever ghosts did when they moved on.
Whoever it was that did this to her, stole her life and left her mostly alone in death, Stretch hoped they felt that sin clawing its way up their back long after they went to the hereafter.
“it’s okay, doris,” he said as gently as he could while Judy Garland danced across the screen, “it’s stretch, like a rubber band.”
“Yes! Stretch!” she laughed delightedly. She clapped her gloved hands together like a child. “Yes, that’s it. It was on the tip of my tongue when I saw you brought me popcorn, but I couldn’t quite shake it loose.”
No surprise there, half the time she didn’t have much tongue left.
She leaned in over her carton to take a deep, ghostly breath and twin streamers of blood ran from her nostrils. His appetite for popcorn faded and Stretch fumbled out the box of raisinets. The cheap milk chocolate barely masked the taste of the raisins and he grimaced, chewing gamely even though the texture always made him think of eating bugs. Dirt-flavored bugs in chocolate, who the hell came up with this so-called treat and were they appropriately punished for it. He could only hope.
They sat together in silence, watching the movie, and by the time the trio made it to the Emerald City, Stretch was squirming in his seat. Doris’s appearance broke the distracting spell of the movie and now his thoughts were wandering back to that morning and Edge’s sudden appearance in the store with so much worry on his pale face. Then there was that soft, unexpected kiss, so sweet against his cheekbone, a punctuation mark on the end of a silent paragraph and maybe he needed someone else to give it a read.
“doris, can i ask you something?”
She turned to him, the ruin of her head solidifying into a pretty young woman as she tilted it curiously. “Of course.”
“it’s kinda a long story.”
She folded her gloved hands primly into her lap. “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”
And that was her real tragedy, wasn’t it. She was tied to this crumbling old theater, unable to go where she needed to. He didn’t know what happened to ghosts once the building they were tied to was gone. But this place was on its last legs and if it closed, the cushions of empty seats rotting away and the silver screen silent, where did she go? He hoped it was someplace nice, a place where she could rest and always be beautiful, without bringing along the gory remains of her last minutes of life.
But they were working on his issues right now. “it’s about a guy.”
Doris brightened visibly and literally, going briefly more solid. “That Edge person you were speaking of before? The other skeleton.”
“yeah,” Stretch said, relieved. He hadn’t been sure how to bring up what they’d talked about before without making her feel bad for not remembering. “see, it’s like this—"
Doris sat and listened as he talked, as enthralled as she’d been when watching the movie. It was like last time when he’d came to ask her about Edgar Allen; she never flickered when she gave him the full weight of her attention.
It might be bad for the theater to have so many empty seats in the house, but it was good for people with the bad manners to talk over the movie. Stretch told her everything, didn’t hold back a thing. About meeting Edge in Red’s living room and his attempted lamp-ocide, about their impromptu lunch at Mama’s. About his brief starring role as little orange biking hood when he ventured to their cabin in the woods, about Frisk. The only thing he didn’t mention was the whole ‘me from another universe’ thing. That was a lot for even him to bend his mind around and his was still in one piece. Doris never interrupted, listened all the way to the end, until Stretch was nearly hoarse as he said, "…so what do you think?"
"Hmm. He certainly sounds charming, in a rude sort of way. My, it makes me think of Pride and Prejudice," she laughed softly. "Although your Mister Darcy showed his true nature far sooner in your tale.”
Thinking of Edge’s hips in a pair of those tight old-school trousers while he danced a waltz was not at all helping the situation and Stretch shoved that thought deep into a mental closet for later.
“but what should i do? he confuses me so much i don’t know whether to scratch my watch or wind my butt around him.” He slid down in the chair until his skull was resting on the back. “and then there’s red to think about, he’s done so much for me. he says he’s not worried about his brother, but…” Stretch trailed off and held up his empty hands.
She nodded thoughtfully. “But you don’t want to stir up trouble in their family, especially since it seems they already have some rough waters.”
“yeah,” Stretch agreed, tiredly. He knew something about stormy weather in a sibling relationship. The last thing he wanted to do to Red and Edge was bring in rainclouds of his own.
“I think you should talk to him,” she said at last. “Tell him what you’re feeling. It seems to me he’d listen to you and he wouldn’t…” Doris’s mouth moved but her words faded. Her pretty visage changed gruesomely, a full show of her shattered face and skull, the fragile bits of bone littered across one shoulder while blood filled the ruin of her eye socket.
Stretch swallowed hard and didn’t look away, waiting until she slowly returned to appearance of a lovely young woman who was finishing triumphantly, “…and who knows what will come of it after that!”
Okay, well, half an advice was better than none and he sure wasn’t gonna ask her to repeat herself.
So. Talk to him. Right. Not bad advice, maybe a little generic, but then, Doris didn’t know about his past history when it came to relationships. She also didn’t know that Backwater wasn’t a permanent assignment for him. He wasn’t too sure about bringing that up, not when it affected her, too. Maybe it would be better to let her forget him when he was gone; with her memory, she might not even realize what she was missing aside from the occasional wistful thought about a spare carton of popcorn.
But she wasn’t wrong, either. Much as he wanted to continue skipping through his life of avoidance, there was only one way he was going to get any real answers. Maybe it was time to figure out exactly where he and Edge stood. His sense of balance in life was pretty damn shaky as it was, and Backwater seemed to treat the laws of reality as more like suggestions. Why would the laws of gravity be any different?
Plus, there was another mystery Stretch was looking to unravel and he was already working on a plan for that. He owed some gratitude to a bony skeleton dragon in the woods and Stretch wasn’t keen on owing debts.
Doris folded her hands into her lap primly. “So? What are you going to do?”
“eh,” Stretch let out a little laugh, “something stupid.”
“Oh.” Doris pursed her lips. “Is it safe?”
“nope,” Stretch said cheerfully and poured himself out another handful of chocolate pseudo-bugs. “but i’ve stayed alive so far. may as well press my luck.”
On the screen, Dorothy was repeating her most famous line and he had to agree, there was no place like home. His only problem with it was that he was starting to get a little fuzzy on where exactly that was.
~~*~~
tbc
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the-lady-writes-what · 4 years ago
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22. Keigo Takami
          Theme: Warlock, soulmate 
          Kinks: Mutual intoxication, dry humping, cowgirl
Masterlist
You clutch your spellbook tight like how mothers hold onto their babies. It’s worn and weathered, and its black leather tells more of a story than how to cure warts with a bit of bacon grease. It’s probably as old as your line, and it traveled all the way down that family tree to you, a mere leaf. The pack on your shoulders was ladened down with food stock, a knife, quill feathers, bottles of ink, charms, clothes, and an extra pair of socks. You found yourself at the center of a family dispute. Marriage had been on the table. Two men that you wouldn’t be caught dead with at the harvest festival, let alone meet him at the altar. It wasn’t that they were ugly; you weren’t that shallow. It was their personalities that made you gag. One was a raging hot-head with the ego to match his fire-powered magic. The other was just as bad except add an inferiority complex and creepy blue eyes. Naturally, picking neither displeased your family so much that they were forced to fight and debate, which would be the better match.
Your opinion was a moot point.
An idea struck you in the middle of the night. You woke from a dream where you walked through a forest, and it was raining red feathers. This was the omen you waited for. Well, any excuse would have nice, but you couldn’t imagine the serendipitous coincidence of such a dream a few days before your parents would decide your fate…for you. By dawn, you already began to set your plan in motion. At midnight the following night, you secreted some things away in a large pack, snuck out, and hurried into the woods where they didn’t dare to follow you.
Within a couple of days, you couldn’t smell the smoke of chimneys or hear the cows and goats. Instead, you smelled damp earth and ripening wild apple trees and listened to the calls of various birds. Magpies, cuckoos, sparrows, and crows, you heard them all but no red feathers. You never saw a cardinal, which you hoped to mean that you were on the right path just as you interpreted your dream. Once or twice you took shelter beneath a conifer or the ruins of an ancient building to escape the rain, which it often did. You foraged where you could and slept on a pillow of moss. You were tired, but this was the sweetest price of freedom.
The forest wasn’t particularly cursed or haunted. There weren’t any wolves, and nobody had seen a bear roam through here in decades. You knew enough about the wildlife to leave enough alone. All you had to do was march through the woods and reach the next village on the other side before winter set in. Your family was too good for trekking through the woods and far too proud to ask someone on the other side of the woods for help. Soon, you’d be out of their hair.
You were trampling through the woods one afternoon. The earth and fallen leaves were sodden with a recent shower. You barely had enough time the night before to create a shelter for you with a spell you found in your family’s tome. It was rightfully yours by birth, and your mother had no interest or skill in magic at any rate. Your grandmother certainly approved when she helped you sneak it out of the house. Wherever you went in the world, you would find work. Witches and warlocks had been in high demand for some of their conjurations, and with your skills and knowledge as a healer, you could find a job easily enough. If not in the next village, then in the next one. Or maybe you would go far into one of those cities you heard so much about from passing travelers.
Your leather shoes were soaked through having trekked through the mud and rain puddles. It dampened your socks all the way to the marrow of your bones underneath. You could feel your toes begin to tingle. You looked around, hoping to find more ruins or a cave, for a place to build a fire. You looked at the trees, and your heart sank a little. All the branches around you looked too wet to be used as firewood. There were a handful of matches left in your pack, but you needed to save those for emergencies, not just because your toes were getting cold. You had to find shelter soon. The clouds had been gray all morning, and the rain was coming again. You sighed for the umpteenth time while looking at the sky.
A laughing brook ran out ahead of you. The width was big enough for you to jump across no problem. You thought that if there was a brook, it could turn into a stream. A stream meant a waterway, and where there was a waterway, there was bound to be people. People lived in houses. You followed the brook through its natural course. Just as you thought, the brook grew bigger and bigger in size. It turned into a stream, then a creek and finally a small river. It cut through a clearing in the forest. Your eyes traveled with it to a lovely two-story cottage. Attached to that cottage was a watermill that turned the water into frothing foam. A garden grew wild though somehow not choked by weeds. You stopped in your tracks.
No. That couldn’t be. Your eyes must be deceiving you.
In the garden grew all sorts of flowers and herbs, most of which were out of season. You saw lush leaves, blooms, and green foliage even from where you stood when you knew that they should have turned brown with the season. That was the first of your many mysterious and curious sights. You drew closer to the place and discovered that the cottage was no cottage. Wood turned into cobbled stones, and the humble appearance took on a new shape. It wasn’t the size of a castle, but it imitated its shape. There was a keep, a tower, and a courtyard that grew a variety of trees. The bricks were made of stones you never laid eyes on before. They seemed to glitter despite the dull sunlight. That was one thing that this mysterious place couldn’t change the weather.
You realized that the smoke billowing out of the chimney wasn’t gray but shimmering purple. Plumes of it belched into the sky before disappearing. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. You had to skulk about the courtyard to find the main entrance. It was a heavy ebony wood door with a green-blue Green Man’s face for an ornate knocker. You clutched the ring in your hand and banged on the door twice and stood on the stoop for probably ten minutes before the door swung open.
You didn’t know what or who you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. Instead of a wizened old man with a flowing white beard or a velvet-clad seductress, it was a young man, not much older than you. He had golden eyes marked at two corners with black arrows. Blonde hair was swept back from his face and yet remained uncontrolled. The man rubbed the sleep from his eyes. You felt bad for waking him up from his nap (because how could he still be asleep at noon?).
“Excuse me, sir, I was wondering if you mind terribly granting me shelter. I’ve been traveling for days, and my boots are soaked all the way through. It’s going to rain soon, and I was hoping to mind somewhere safe to rest and stay clear out of it,” you said.
The man in the doorway stared and stared and stared. After a while, he had to blink or go blind.
“What did you say your name was?” His voice made you tremble.
Not out of fear, though. There was something in his voice that sent a playful tingle down your spine. You furrowed your brows.
“I-I didn’t give you my name,” you said, curious.
“Why don’t you come on in and warm yourself by the fire? We can exchange introductions over some tea?” The man in the doorway pulled the door open wide enough for you to enter.
If you thought his house was big on the outside, it was much bigger on the inside. Or it would have been if the space wasn’t taken up by trinkets, tools, and books. Towers of books reached the vaulted ceilings. You picked up the front of your skirts to give your legs room to keep up with him. He was a little shorter than you, but he walked a lot faster. His parlor was, so far, the cleanest space in his home you’d seen. At least, by comparison, the parlor was spacious, and you could comfortably sit down in the large armchair by the fire. You set your bag down and plopped right into the chair. Your feet would be singing your praises if they had mouths and sentience. You warmed your feet by the fire while your host left to make tea.
He returned after a long while with a serving tray. Jasmine filled the parlor as he poured two cups. Taking the seat across from you, he sipped from his cup.
“I’m Keigo Takami,” he said.
Politely, you returned, “Y/N L/N.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N, if I have permission to call you that?”
“You do.” You grinned into your teacup.
“What brings you all the way out here in the middle of the woods? Get lost on the way to the next town?” Keigo asked.
“Not exactly.” You swallowed some tea and continued. “Escaping an unwanted arranged marriage.”
Keigo didn’t seem surprised. His golden eyes softened, and he nodded. It was as if he understood your situation.
“My old man wanted me to be a foot soldier. I told him ‘no.’ He didn’t take it too kindly. Locked me up in a tower until I ‘came to see the error in my ways.’ And look where I am now!” Keigo gestured around the room.
While cluttered beyond imagination, the parlor held expensive treasures and gadgets. Clocks, sundials, colorful glass vases, feathers…Feathers?
Your eyes snapped to a red streak dashing in front of the stained glass window in the hall. It was followed by another, third, and a fourth. A red feather floated on the air as if pulled by an invisible string into the parlor. A few more followed. The feathers went to work dusting, wiping, and putting books on the shelves. Some of them pulled off your boots, strung your socks up on the mantle to dry, and pulled on a fresh pair that were soft as sheepskin. Your eyes followed the red feathers wherever they traveled. Keigo wore a small smile while watching you marvel at the feathers. However, you were following them with your eyes for a reason different than the one he was thinking about.
“I just thought I’d tidy up a little. It’s been a while since I’ve had company. They’re a pet project of mine. It took me a while to get the enchantment just right,” said Keigo.
One of the feathers fell into your lap. You picked it up like it was a delicate spider-web.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
Keigo showed you the rest of his house: the kitchen, dining room, second parlor, library, observatory, and the guest bedrooms. You sat down to dinner with him to discuss some sort of arrangement. You felt terrible taking up his space and mucking up his lovely floors.
“What if I worked for you? That way, I can get some training, you’ll have an extra hand around, and we won’t have to be lonely come winter. I know I’m just a village girl who ran away from home, but I know things. And I’m a fast learner,” you explained over a pot of stew.
“I work with a lot of hoity-toity rich folk for commissions. That won’t be a problem, will it?”  
You shook your head. “No, sir. Not at all.”
“Don’t call me ‘sir.’ Makes me feel old,” said Keigo. “It does get frustrating having nobody to talk to all the way out here. You seem real eager to learn, so I don’t see why I shouldn’t take up an apprentice.”
You clinked your glasses of wine together to solidify your spoken contract. You stared at the red feathers again as they swooped in to take care of the dinner table. Keigo caught you standing frozen as your eyes flickered this way and that to follow them.
“I apologize if this sounds rude but, did you have a lot of magic where you came from?” Asked Keigo.
“Well, yes, but—” You bit your lower lip. “You’re going to think it’s silly.”
Keigo smiled and turned his head towards the doorway. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”
You tore your eyes away from the marvelous red feathers and followed him out into the hallway. Without turning back to speak to you, Keigo said, “And bring your spellbook with you.”
           You ran back to the parlor and found your spellbook on an end table where you found it. Keigo came, found you, and led you to the observatory. The glass dome showed the brightest stars. The moon was in her full glory.
           “I’ve noticed how you’ve been staring at my feathers. Is there any particular reason why? Trying to discover how to do it yourself?”
           “No, nothing like that!” You said as you shook your head again. “Before…before I left home, I had this weird dream. You see, I remember in that dream I was walking through a forest and all of a sudden it started raining red feathers. I didn’t know what it meant, not that I do now. I think that I was led here by something.”
           “Let me see your book,” said Keigo.
           You were more than hesitant to hand it over. You didn’t like your family, never had, but this was still your family’s spellbook. It was an heirloom. Your hands shook a bit when you held it out for Keigo to take. Someone of his magical caliber would know the weight of a family’s spellbook and would respect its secrets, wouldn’t he? Your heart started beating louder as if Keigo was rifling through your personal belongings.
           Keigo pried open the cover and pulled out a gray and brown feather, and closed the book. He set it gently on a table and kept the feather. Your brows furrowed; you never saw that before.
           “You see, Y/N, I had a strange dream too. A few weeks ago, I dreamt that I was also walking through the woods. I saw a young woman in a green cloak just like yours hand me a book. Inside was a feather just like this.”
           You were acutely aware that you still held onto one of Keigo’s red feathers. A shiver ran down your spine as Keigo slowly closed the gap separating you. His golden eyes looked straight into yours. An alchemical experiment was taking place in his eyes. You could see all sorts of emotions congealing and mixing in there. You were too dizzy to distinguish one from another. Keigo took your hand that held his red feather in the one where he carried the gray feather. He clasped your fingers between his. You felt his blood race in the center of his palm.
           “Do you believe in soulmates, Y/N? Because I don’t know how else to explain this.”
           “I…don’t know,” you answered honestly.
           “Can I kiss you?”
           “Y-Yeah.”
           Keigo pressed his mouth against yours, hands still clasped together. His free hand found your waist, and his thumb began to draw infinite circles on top of your bodice. You kissed before (not that your parents would ever know), so this shouldn’t have been anything new. But the way Keigo moved his lips against yours and how his tongue slowly teased you, it felt like being kissed for the very first time. Your hand moved to caress the back of his neck, which brought your bodies a lot closer.
           Suddenly, you were falling. You landed on a pile of pillows that weren’t there before. Keigo landed on top of you, shedding his outer coat. He went back to kissing you without missing a beat. Your fingers deftly unlaced the front of your bodice and let Keigo peel it away. You weren’t a virgin anymore, but that didn’t stop the goosebumps from arising in your skin when he touched you, kissed your skin, or teased you with his adept tongue. Calloused hands moved under your skirt to remove your bloomers and a couple layers of petticoats. Keigo nestled between your thighs, gently humping you. Your face darkened while he continued and played with your clit. Your back arched like a bow as you came for the first time that evening.
           Keigo leaned above you, smiling like a triumphant demon of seduction. The illusion sold a lot better if he wasn’t panting slightly or dripping with sweat. A wooden box carried by a team of feathers wandered into the room. They set the box in Keigo’s hands. He opened the lid and turned to you.
           “Want to try an experiment with me?” He asked.
           “What kind of an experiment?”
You were just coming down from your high when Keigo took out the contents of the box and set it aside. In his hand, he held two large, dark orange flowers.
“This is Epifagus Aboreum. You pull the flower from the stem and suck on end. I’ve heard that it produces a very ‘relaxed’ state of being. Do you want to try it with me?”
You nodded.
You and Keigo carefully removed the flower from their stems. You watched Keigo suckle the end of the flower, which looked like a horn to blow into. You did the same. There seemed to be no effect at first. Not for long, however. In ten minutes, you and Keigo were back at peeling each other’s clothes off. Skin never felt so alive under your hands. You could feel his heart racing. Mouths pressed together again. Licking and nipping at each other while you rolled around on the pillows. Keigo’s hands palmed your breasts while you rubbed his shoulder with one hand and stroked his cock with the other. Your head felt heavy and light at the same time. The stars shining through the glass dome appeared brighter and more clear. Candles flickered with a multitude of colors, shifting, changing, morphing.
“Oh, Keigo,” you moaned as the man suckled on your neck, making sure to leave a love bite.
“Do you feel good?”
“Mhmm, yes.” You hummed.
           “Wanna continue?”
           “Yes!”
           Keigo shifted you onto your side and lifted one leg over his shoulder. The blunt head of his cock brushed against the wet seam of your cunt. He slipped twice, unable to get it in the right way. The third time proved the charm as he slid inside your walls without much more effort. Your cunt fluttered around him. From this angle, you could see everything he did to you.
           His first thrusts were sloppy as if he couldn’t figure out what angle to pound you with. Keigo quickly got the hang of it and rutted against you, fast and hard. You weren’t aware of how loud you were. His body moving on top of and inside you created new sensations you couldn’t understand while under the influence of the flower-drug. Stars burst in front of your eyes with each stroke of his cock. There was no beginning or end. It was just the two of you. You clawed at the pillows as you tried to find purchase. Your mind was going blank.
           “You feel so good, baby bird. Fuck, where have you been all my life?”
           “O-Over the brook and through the woods. At grandma’s house.”
           This made him chuckle, though it didn’t stop his rough treatment of you. Keigo’s grip was bruising, but you don’t feel any pain. There was no cause of complaint when he was burying himself deep inside of you. You couldn’t tell if it was just him or if the flower-drug made him thicker. His veiny ridges created the right amount of friction against your inner walls.
           You were both panting like dogs in heat. You moved your hips against him, and his calloused fingers tweaked your clit.
           “K-Keigo…”
           “Me too, baby. I’m gonna cum...so hard.”
           Keigo was an honest man. After what seemed like hours of him railing you, Keigo groaned loudly. He shoved his cock all the way in until the blunt head brushed along your cervix. You didn’t have time to climax first before he was releasing all he heads straight into your womb. Warmth spread throughout your body. The drug, Keigo’s cock, and the cum painting your insides white were all enough to have your eyes roll into the back of your skull. You came shortly after.
           The room was spinning so much after coming so hard that you couldn’t move a muscle. Apparently, Keigo wasn’t better. He was still inside your body when he rolled over and laid you on top of his chest. His cock remained buried deep, all the way in, when conscious hit you both.
           When you awoke, you still lay on top of Keigo. You looked down to find you had been inside. Even though he was still asleep and limp within the confines of your pussy, that ddin’t stop the naughty grin across your face. You were awake and fully alert. No drugs in your system could prevent you from feeling Keigo unhindered. You moved your hips up and down, impaling yourself on his cock. You braced your hands on his hips to help steady yourself.
           Keigo stirred when he felt himself grow hard and feel the moist walls of your cunt, sucking him in. He rubbed his eyes, then laid back to enjoy the view. Your breasts bounced seductively in front of him as you rode him just as hard as he rode you the night before. Keigo couldn’t resist palming each breast in his hands and play with your nipples. Your hair swayed with each of your movements like a warrior-queen riding her powerful stead.
           He heard footsteps climbing up the stairs, but he was too lazy and felt too good to make you stop. Whoever it was, they were about to get an eyeful of your ass, and easily you took his cock. Keigo wore nothing but a smirk. Your eyes were heavy-lidded while you concentrated on riding him. You couldn’t hear a thing other than the wet clap of flesh against flesh.
           A tall, feminine figure approached. Her white bunny ears grazed the top doorway before she stopped dead. Your back was turned to her, so you did not see her. Keigo looked past your form and gave her a curious look. You were too busy to notice him. His friend quickly disappeared rather than wait in the doorway for him to finish with you. Keigo snapped his hips upwards to meet your every downward thrust. He teased your clit to ensure a speedy climax. Keigo filled you up again and let you scream to the high heavens. You held his hands as you came around him one more time. Keigo pulled out gently and pulled a couple blankets literally out of thin air to cover you with. While he dressed, once more, you drifted to sleep. Keigo gave one last look at you from the doorway and smiled to himself. He quickly turned into the hallway to find his friend. The sooner he figured out what she wanted, the sooner Keigo could return and spend all of his time with you and learning everything there was to know about you.
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itcameuponamidnightqueer · 4 years ago
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it’s not like it’s easy to take down vokodo; he may not be a god-god, but he is still super powerful. but so are they, and especially with vir—vilya on their side. they get the best of him eventually, and the island starts to wake up again. fjord and caduceus start helping people, explaining to them gently what really happened and that they might have been missing from their real lives for a very long time.
jester is helping too, just not a bunch of people at once. she can’t shake vilya’s haunted eyes, the way her shoulders sag where once they were upright in posture and conviction.
vilya sits on a boulder, her legs stretched out in front of her as she rocks them from side to side, just a little.
“are your memories coming back?”
jester doesn’t sit right next to her, but the rock is big enough. she sits down a foot away and waits.
vilya smiles to herself. “a little bit. most of them are still just of the island. the time before—it’s hazy.”
“do you—i can send magical messages to people, no matter where they are in the world. can i do that for you?”
“i think so,” vilya answers, “if i could remember them.”
jester crosses her legs and pivots to face vilya, tucking her tail out of the way. “i sent a couple messages to beau’s dad before we met him because she knew his name and she described him to me. do you think you could remember enough for that?”
vilya shakes her head. “i just see blurry shapes, long hair and pointed ears. sometimes a big smile. i hope the rest will come to me, in time.”
“okay.” jester’s tail flicks as she thinks. “oh! i know a super powerful wizard who’s totally connected in tal’dorei and probably can get the message out to a lot of people. do you want me to message her?”
vilya shrugs and kicks a fly off of her foot, where the vine is curling back like the top of a clown’s shoe. “you can do whatever you want, jester.”
“great!” jester cranes her neck, turning her left ear towards the sky. it doesn’t really do anything, but it feels like she thinks faster like this. she starts and restarts counting a few times on her fingers before finally settling on a message.
“it’s jester! we found a half-elf druid from tal’dorei on rumblecusp who can’t remember her family. can you help? she’s missing part of a leg.”
there’s a little zap in the back of jester’s mind as the message sends.
“sometimes we have to wait a while for a response,” she explains. vilya simply nods.
the air around jester’s ears gets fuzzy for almost a full minute, like allura’s message is fighting to get through. but it might just be a time difference thing—jester has no idea what time it is wherever allura is in tal’dorei, but she certainly sounds sleepy.
“part of a leg? i’m not sure, jester; that’s not a lot to go on. If she could remember anything to narrow it down...”
jester looks guiltily at vilya. “i know you’re trying really hard already but, do you think maybe you could just remember one thing? or, maybe a couple? it would help a lot, i think.”
vilya takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, tilting her head toward the sky. “i see...red hair and freckles. a bright sun. an endless wave of clouds, and a forest between worlds.”
jester scrunches her nose, counting again. “okay that’s...hold on.” she cranes her head again. “okay, so,” she starts. “red hair, freckles, lots of sun and clouds, and an enchanted forest. i think. does that help? also, were you sleeping?”
allura’s reply is immediate. “wait.”
“wait?” jester scoffs. “what does she mean, wait?”
“i think that’s pretty self-explanatory,” vilya quips.
jester groans and lies back across the rock, spreading her arms wide as her legs dangle. “i hate waiting,” she grumbles.
vilya brings her not-vine leg to her chest, rests her chin on her knee. “it’s not so bad, once you get used to it.”
“yeah, but that’s what magic is for. so you don’t have to wait.”
vilya laughs, like rocks skittering over dirt. “i would appreciate if you waited with me, jester.”
“sure.”
jester starts counting the stars in the sky, looking for something to focus on. it would probably be the worst thing, she decides—to lose your memories. to have a life without her friends or the traveler or her mom; who would she be without the people that shaped her?
she respects the hell out of yasha, that’s for sure.
jester loses count of the stars so many times but she keeps going back. the longer they wait, the more the hairs at the back of her neck prickle, like something is watching them. but vokodo is gone and she can’t see anything in the vicinity, so jester chalks it up to lingering paranoia and doesn’t say anything.
“do you really think your friend can help?” vilya murmurs.
jester thinks for a moment. “i don’t know her that well, so i can’t say for sure. but she’s friends with an elf who can do all kinds of crazy magic, so i think she’s probably a pretty good bet. but even if she can’t, you can always come with us! my friend veth and i are very good at solving mysteries.”
“i’m sure you are.” vilya sighs. “i’d rather be home, wherever that is.” her voice is muffled, like she’s resting her cheek on something. “i think i left something very precious behind.”
“ooh, like what?”
the feeling of being watched looms closer and closer until it feels like a cloak on jester’s shoulders. she tries to shrug it off and pay attention to vilya but it’s stifling, squeezing tighter and jester can barely breathe.
there’s a snap of a twig behind them and jester springs up immediately, her hands glowing pink even though she’s way down on spells.
the snapping gets closer; trees and bushes rustle loudly and someone swears as they get caught up. finally, a head pops up from the brush and it takes a moment for jester to register the sandy blond braid.
“allura!” she blurts. “i didn’t know you were going to come here!”
some hair is poking out of allura’s plait and she has to smooth her dress to get some burrs off, but she looks respectable enough. probably regal even, if she weren’t so dirty.
“i apologize for the lack of warning,” she huffs, “but i thought it more prudent to scry quickly.”
“oh, that’s what that was! gosh, does it feel like that every time?”
“i would imagine.”
allura continues picking the forest off of her as she walks toward the rock. jester jolts when vilya speaks, having almost forgotten about her.
“is this your friend?” she asks quietly.
“mhm.”
vilya turns to watch allura as she trips over herself. “not much of an adventurer, i see.”
“i think she used to be,” jester shrugs. “but she’s married and stuff now.”
“i might just be able to help your friend, jester,” allura says, a few paces away now. she twists one more time to pull a twig off of her shoulder. “i think i know—oh.”
she spins back around and notices vilya for the first time. her eyes fill with tears; jester watches as allura takes three very slow, deliberate breaths.
allura clears her throat, a calming hand pressed against her heart.
“you look just like her,” she breathes.
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dhwty-writes · 4 years ago
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Awakenings
The last part of my gift for @heyabooboo for @thewitchersecretsanta!
Did you think we're done with the angst? Sorry to disappoint, there's still one last chapter left. So, without further ado, read away! 
Summary: Geralt wakes up from his stay in Nehaleni's dreamworld. But Jaskier is still asleep, and it's not looking good for him.
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Moodboard by the amazing @petrificustotaluss​
Warnings: temporary character death, I guess? For about 1 paragraph
Read on AO3
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7
Waking up is one of the strangest experiences, mortals undergo on a daily basis. It can be peaceful, like untangling yourself from a lover's embrace to go relieve yourself, only to know that you will come back to that welcoming warmth once more. It can be violent, like a bucket of cold water on a morning after a bender. It also can be very disorienting, especially if you find yourself in a place where you decidedly did not fall asleep in.
Some of them wake slowly, their mind still wrapped in the sluggish fog of my dreamworld of creation and creativity. Others fight to escape the misty tendrils of a nightmarish prison of their own design. And others still are able to wake in the span of a heartbeat, one blink submerged in the very heart of my garden and the next far beyond my reach.
Witchers, generally, belong to the latter sort of people. It is a shame; they rarely are able to indulge in the pleasures of my realm for long. Waking to a monster with steely claws looming over you or a beast ready to tear out your throat will teach you to sleep too deeply. And even if they are able to enter into my domain, their lives of hardships often make it impossible for them to even imagine anything but a waking nightmare.
So, it should be no wonder that Geralt of Rivia woke with a gasp, already half on his feet before he even knew what was happening. The witcher stumbled, his legs giving out beneath him and collapsed on the floor.
He blinked. His vision was still foggy with the sleep. He blinked again. And again, and again, and again, until he could see the room he was in clearly. 'Room?' Geralt groaned and pushed himself up to his elbows. "What the fuck?" he meant to mumble, but his throat was too dry to form words.
The door burst open. 'Shit.' He tried to scramble to his feet, panic flaring up in him. He was dressed in nothing but breeches and a shirt, different ones than what he had worn when he had gone into the ruin. His armour, his swords nowhere to be seen— Whoever had come to look for the intruder in their home would surely have having and easy job finishing off the witcher—
"Geralt!" Yennefer of Vengerberg exclaimed and fell to her knees next to him. Her hands hovered above his body as if she didn't dare to touch him. As if he were an illusion that might shatter any minute. "You're... awake?"
"Yen?" he groaned weakly, not quite believing his eyes either. What was she doing here? She should be far away in whatever estate she was currently occupying while he was supposed to be on a scouting mission in a haunted ruin. He glanced around warily. Wherever he was staying, it was definitely not a ruin. More like the mansion of some minor noble.
"Yes, it's me, you big dumb oaf," she scoffed and interrupted his wondering. She tugged at his too-heavy arm until he complied and she could pull one of them over her shoulders. "Triss!" she called as she tried to get him into a standing position. His legs stubbornly remained uncooperative. "Triss, come over here, he's awake!"
It took his brain a while to catch up with her words, his mind still much preoccupied to move even one single muscle in his body. "Triss?" he croaked. This was starting to make less and less sense. And it hadn't made a lot of sense in the first place.
"She's looking over Jaskier," she snapped as if that was an appropriate answer.
"Jaskier." He frowned as he was made to sit down on the bed he had stumbled out of earlier. Jaskier. He remembered— In the ruins, he remembered the fog. The nightmare. The blood, the guilt. And the loneliness, the desperate feeling of missing someone. He remembered yelling— "Jaskier," he gasped. He remembered the deity, remembered the deal—"Butcher, I need a priest. You need to offer a replacement at least. Come with me and I let your loved ones be. Or stay and let them pay."—the garden, robes, shackles. He remembered a door, and— "Jaskier."
He clung to Yennefer, desperately, hoping she would understand. She passed a hand over his hair. "Breathe," she ordered him and pushed a waterskin into his hands. He drank gratefully. "And drink something. Your bard is—" She hesitated with a frown, evidently weighing her next works. "He's asleep next door."
"What happened?" he grunted, once his throat didn't feel like sandpaper anymore.
"He brought you here," she explained calmly, handing him a cup with an atrocious smelling concoction. When he raised his eyebrows in question she answered: "Yeah, I don't know how he managed either— oh that? Drink that, it will give you back some of your strength—he brought you here, begging me to save you. I told him I'd do some research—"
"—and came to Aretuza, where she found me," Triss Merigold chimed in from where she stood in the doorway. "Welcome back to the world of the living, Geralt."
He frowned. Aretuza? Yennefer avoided that place like the plague. If she truly had gone there, it had to have been bad. "Triss," she chided, evidently surprised.
"Don't worry, he's stable." The words 'For the moment' hang unspoken in the air between them. "Did you know that your bard is absolutely insane?" He nodded. "He demanded that we send him after you and threatened to find a ruffian to knock him unconscious if we didn't."
Geralt grimaced. Yeah, that sounded like Jaskier. He drained the last of the revolting brew and thrust it back into Yennefer's hands. "How long?" They exchanged a silent glance. Geralt growled. "How long?" he asked again.
"Almost two months," Triss admitted finally.
Two months. The little colour he had regained drained from his face again. Two months of sleeping. Two months without moving a single muscle. Two months without food and drink except for what the sorceresses could administer with their magic. 'Too long.' That was too long, far too long for any human. Panic started rising within him as he thought of all that could happen in that time. "Where is he?"
"Geralt, lie back down," Yennefer tried to soothe him and manoeuvre him back into a lying position.
"No," he insisted weakly, and tried to push her away, a futile attempt in his weakened state. "No, no, Yen. Yennefer, where is he? Please, I need to— Please!"
"You need to rest, is what you do."
"You lost a lot of strength in that time while you were asleep," Triss agreed, but he barely listened to them.
His mind was aflutter with all the memories of his stay in the deity's realm coming back to him; the lonely eras of him kneeling at their feet with nothing to do, nothing to talk about, Jaskier appearing, the Game of Fools, the poems, the shackles closing around Jaskier instead. Their last song, their kiss, their goodbye. The storm raging with Jaskier at the centre, hidden from view but clear to see, energy swirling around him, within him, dying out. Their freedom. A kiss. "I'll be with you in just a moment."
"Stable?" he echoed.
"Yes," Triss agreed. "He has been so for a few days."
"I need to see him," he blurted.
"Geralt," Yen said very softly, but he was having none of that.
"No, I need to see him." He grabbed her by the shoulders and stared at her intently. "I need to see him," he insisted again. "Please. Please, Yen, help me."
"Geralt," she said again, more worried this time. He looked at her, pleading, desperate. "Alright," she whispered and hoisted his arm over her shoulder again.
"Yenna," Triss chided, but she was shut up with an angry violet stare.
"Come over here and be useful. He wants to see him? Fine. He'll see him."
With combined forces they managed to haul him over to the room next door. They almost didn't make it over to the chair next to the bed, for Geralt's legs gave out beneath him from relief when he saw Jaskier lying there. The bard was thinner than he remembered, his cheeks sunken in, and his skin a sickly grey he almost didn't notice with the glowing sphere of light surrounding him.
He looked peaceful, almost, he mused, once he collapsed at his bedside, waiting. Peaceful and stable. But the longer he waited, the more worried glances the two sorceresses exchanged, the more time passed without his... friend? Lover? Bard. The more time passed without his bard stirring, the less he looked asleep. The more he looked like a corpse.
"What— Why— Why is he not waking up?" he stammered after what felt like an eternity.
"It's the spell we put him under, so he could go after you," Triss explained as Yennefer put a hand on his shoulder and asked: "What happened Geralt?"
"He won. They said that we could go, he won, he wrote a song to melt a heart of stone!" He looked up at both of them, uncontrolled, unbridled fear clouding his mind. "He should wake up, he won- Why is he not waking up? Triss! Yennefer!"
Again, the anxious glances. "Lift it," Yennefer said quietly.
"Yenna—"
"No, Triss, you have to try again. You have to lift it."
"Again?" Geralt asked with a wavering voice as Triss got to work, chanting quietly in Elder. "What do you mean, again? Yennefer, answer me!"
"Calm down, Geralt," she ordered him sharply and he snapped his mouth shut. He could do that. "It's— Fuck," she cursed and looked away. "I need you to not freak out. Alright? Do not freak out, Geralt."
He probably couldn't do that. Still, he nodded.
"We had agreed with him," she started slowly, "to leave him in the netherworld for one month. For safety reasons. So, after that had passed, we tried to guide him back. And— we couldn't. It was like he was fighting back. And then, he slipped further under. With each day, more of his soul got sucked further and further into the netherworld."
"What?" he whispered quietly. "But he found me. He won. He should be waking up now."
"We're not sure if he can. We can lift the spell, but... there is so little of him left in this world, he might not be able to find his way back here."
"But he won," he said again, stupidly. "We were free to go. He— He said he'd be with me in just a minute." Despite his better knowledge he reached out, to grasp his hand at least. He hissed when the sphere burned his fingers.
Uncharacteristically, Yennefer didn't even chide him for it, her attention diverted by Triss' disturbingly calm: "Yenna." Geralt was left to stare helplessly at his bard's lifeless body as the two sorceresses argued quietly.
After just the blink of an eye, Yennefer turned back to him and said: "Geralt."
Suddenly, he knew with terrifying clarity what she was about to say next. "He's not finding his way back," he said with a surprisingly steady voice. "He's dying."
"He's dying, Geralt," she agreed meekly.
He nodded. He could already feel the tears rising again in his eyes, just like they had done in the netherworld. Only this time there was no soft song of Jaskier to call them forth. Instead, the room was as silent as a grave. "Drop the sphere," he ordered.
"Geralt—" Triss tried, but he shook his head.
"If he's dying anyways, I can at least hold him while he does," he decreed. "Please. Drop the sphere. And leave us alone. I'll— I'll shout, once it's over."
He didn't even register them dropping the spell and leaving. He just blinked and found himself alone with a barely breathing Jaskier in the room. In any other situation it might have worried him. It should have worried him. But not now.
Not now, because Jaskier was dying, and there was nothing he could do.
Geralt swallowed his tears and, with an incredible feat of strength he crawled onto the bed. Wheezing, he leaned against the headboard to regain his breath. Then, he heaved Jaskier into his lap, to cradle him gently.
For a while, he just sat like that. Holding the fragile body of his bard, rocking softly back and forth while he listened intently to his breathing. Jaskier breathed in. And out. In. And out. 'I should say something,' he knew. But what did one say to a dying person who couldn't even hear you?
"I— I'm sorry," he stammered after a while, the first thing that came to his mind. Jaskier breathed out. And in. "I'm sorry it has to end like this. I'm sorry for going into that ruin, I'm sorry for being so stubborn, I'm sorry for never telling you how I feel."
Jaskier breathed in. And out. It was like those words broke a damn, for suddenly Geralt couldn't stop speaking anymore: "It was stupid, I know. But I was scared. Scared of losing you. Somehow, I thought losing you when you didn't know would be easier."
Jaskier breathed out. And in. "Hm." He carded his fingers through Jaskier's soft hair. "Stupid. Hurts just as fucking much."
Jaskier breathed in. And out. "I'm really fucking angry with you right now, y'know, Jaskier? I wanted to hear that song. I wanted to kiss you. For real. Just once."
Jaskier breathed out. And in. "Y'know— hm." This was somehow even harder than he'd thought. "Y'know, you were the last thing I thought about before I fell asleep. And the first thing I worried about when I woke up in the garden. When they offered me their terms, I— it's stupid, but at first, I didn't even think that they might ask for Yennefer's soul instead. Or Ciri's. All I thought was that I can't let 'em have you. 'S why I stayed."
Jaskier breathed in. And out. "I love you," he whispered and took his hand gently. "I know you probably can't hear me, but if you can, please— Please, Jaskier, come back to me. I'm waiting for you. I'll always wait for you."
Jaskier breathed out. Geralt waited. And waited. And waited. He didn't breathe in again.
"Fuck," Geralt whimpered, curling himself around his bard's lifeless—dead—body. He might have been ashamed of the violent sobs that shook his body, of tears that flowed freely. But all of that mattered so little. Not when he— Not when— When—
"Oh," a croaky voice said and Geralt froze, "tha's nice."
"Jaskier," he whispered against his bard's shoulder, not daring to look up. What if he had misheard? What if Jaskier was not actually awake? What if it was a ghost, what if Geralt had to fight him—
"'S my name, love," Jaskier slurred and sighed. "Always thought it'd be nice t'die in your arms."
He couldn't help it. He had to pull back and look. He had to confront the horrors that inevitably waited for him when he looked into his bard's face, he had to see— Blue eyes. Very tired blue eyes. Very tired, alive blue eyes. "You're not dead."
"No? Oh." He blinked sluggishly. "Dyin'?"
"Yen!" Geralt shouted, because he didn't know what else to do. "Triss, Yen, he's awake!"
The two sorceresses barrelled into the room immediately, betraying that they had been eavesdropping. Geralt was hauled off the bed by Yennefer, as Triss rushed over to Jaskier, weaving spells and fishing for potions in her bag. "Wha's happenin'?" Jaskier managed before he was shut up by some vile concoction being poured down his throat.
"You nearly died, you idiot, that's what's happening," Triss hissed as she supported his head while he struggled to swallow the brew. "Reduced your witcher to a useless, blubbering mess."
She wasn't wrong. Geralt still couldn't stop rambling: "He just woke up, Yen, I don't know— I don't understand— He was dead, and suddenly he was talking. Will he be alright? Please, will he be alright now?"
"Shut up," both women snapped at him and Jaskier.
"Yen, I need to—" he tried again and was promptly shoved back into the chair.
"If you don't sit down and shut your mouth, I swear to the gods, Geralt of Rivia, I'll kick you out of this room, whether you can walk or not," Yennefer spat and joined Triss in the check-ups she was running.
It was probably the hardest thing he had ever done in his entire life. Normally, he had no issue with keeping his mouth shut, but this time it felt like torture. His fingers itched, his whole body thrummed with the insistent need to do something, anything. Was this how Jaskier felt all the time? Geralt felt like he was losing his mind.
Yennefer held Jaskier upright as Triss stripped him of his shirt to check for... something. Geralt's stomach churned with each strip of sickly grey skin revealed, stretched far too thin over Jaskier's rips. 'Maybe I should wait outside,' he thought. But he couldn't. Not watching, not knowing seemed somehow even worse.
His thoughts were interrupted by Jaskier's hand searching blindly on the soft sheets. "Please," he croaked, "take my hand, love."
And how could he deny such a request? Geralt leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the bed to clasp his hand tightly with both of his. The angle was a bit awkward, maybe, but that didn't deter him. He was glad to be able to do anything at all. And if he helped Jaskier with that, even better.
He couldn't say how much time passed before Yennefer and Triss backed up, grim masks hiding their relief. Not very well, of course, but still. "You'll be alright," Triss decreed. "A few days of rest and proper food, and taking it slowly for the next few months and you should be as good as new."
Jaskier nodded and smiled. "Thank you."
"Still, you're an idiot. I tried to wake you up, twice. And you didn't come back either of those times. You fought me, you bastard."
"I'm sorry. I needed my strength there." The smile on his face grew sheepish. "But I'm back now, aren't I? We both are."
She scoffed and crossed her arms. "You owe me, bard."
"I know. And I'll gladly repay you at any time."
"No," she pointed a finger at him, "not at any time. First, you rest. Come, Yenna." They were already out the door when Triss poked her head back in. "Before I forget it: there's a strict no-sex-policy while you're resting."
Jaskier scoffed and Geralt made a vague gesture at both of them, exhausted from the little they'd done in the past hour. "I doubt that's even an option."
"For now," Jaskier added and Triss wrinkled her nose.
"Yeah, it's the 'for now' I'm worried about. No sex!" she ordered again before she was pulled out of the room by Yennefer and the door shut behind them.
With them gone, the room was plunged into silence. Geralt knew that he should say something, but there was nothing he could think of. As so often. Instead, he just sat there, still holding on tight to Jaskier's hand as if he might vanish if he stopped touching him. And staring. How could he not? Whatever magic the two sorceresses had worked, had regained Jaskier some semblance of strength at least, his skin not quite as sickly pale as before. But it was his eyes that kept attracting Geralt’s gaze. There was something… weird about them. An unearthly glow, interrupted by little bursts of lightning flashing through the clear blue. He couldn’t bear to look. He couldn’t bear to look away. 
Luckily, with Jaskier silence never lasted long. "Hey there," he whispered and stroked Geralt's knuckles with his thumb. He still looked very tired, but the smile at least was reassuring. "You look like shit."
Geralt snorted. "You've seen better days yourself, bard."
"Rude," the bard decided and pouted, closing his eyes again.
"You started it."
He chuckled and squeezed his hand weakly. "Shouldn't you be nicer to me? Y'know after all of—" He waved his hand around vaguely.
"What? 'Cause you're my lover?" He groaned quietly as he got to his feet again. "Can I?"
Jaskier's eyes snapped open again and nodded. "Is... that what I am?" he asked hesitantly, shuffling to the side to make room for Geralt on the bed. "Your lover?"
"Hm," he answered and flopped down, exhausted. "You're my bard,” he said finally, once he was settled. “And you're an idiot."
"Yeah?" Jaskier scoffed. "Well, whose idea was it to investigate a spooky ruin? Certainly not mine, I tell you that mu—mphh!" Geralt shut him up with a kiss.
"You're an idiot," he said again once they separated. "And I love you."
Jaskier's expression softened and cuddled close, arranging Geralt's limbs to hold him. "I love you, too, you fool."
"Good," he sighed with relief. Immediately, his expression hardened again: "So, stop being an idiot!" He pointed an accusatory finger at him. "I can't lose you now. Fuck." He draped his arm over his eyes. "Fuck, Jaskier, I thought I was losing my mind. You stopped breathing in my arms."
"Romantic, isn't it?" the bard grinned up at him. Geralt growled and Jaskier winced. "Too soon? Yeah, I get that."
"Yennefer told me you found me and brought me here. I— I can't even imagine how you... How could you bear that?"
He chuckled. "I don't remember, if I'm quite honest. One moment I found you lying there, the next I was knocking on Yennefer's door. And then suddenly I woke up in the netherworld."
"Hm. Was it—" He hesitated, remembering what it had been like for him. The fog, the corpses, the guilt. "Was it bad?"
"Bad?" Jaskier grimaced. "It was a fucking pain in the arse, that's what it was. So many riddles. So weird."
"Weird?" Geralt looked down at him suspiciously. He supposed that was one way to put it.
"Yeah," he nodded. "Pink grass, purple trees, green snow. A whole bunch of talking flowers and birds. Just weird."
"Hm." That didn't sound anything like what he had seen.
Jaskier huddled closer. "The nightmares were worse," he confessed. But before Geralt had a chance to ask about them: "But let's not talk about that now. The important thing is that we are together." He yawned. "And that we'll stay together."
"Hmm." He pressed his nose into Jaskier's hair and inhaled deeply as his bard's breathing evened out. There were still so many questions he had. Like why Jaskier had stayed longer. What had happened during the storm. What the name of the deity was. But they could wait until they had slept. "Sweet dreams," he mumbled. "I'll be there when you wake up."
Jaskier's lips quirked upwards. "I'll be there when you fall asleep."
Geralt hummed, not quite understanding what he meant. But it didn’t really matter either, he decided and let his eyes droop closed again.
It was a serene and starry night when the witcher fell asleep with his bards in his arms. As it should be, by any rights; a night as beautiful as you can imagine for a picturesque pair of young lovers. They dreamt as well; a dream of pink grass and green snow, a garden with an old friend and a sky that was eternally stuck in sunset no more. It was a peaceful dream. A dream of freedom, found fortune, and love.
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seizethecarpe · 4 years ago
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Hunting Me, Hunting You || Dave and Rio
Timing: Current @3starsquinn​ @seizethecarpe​ Summary: Dave and Rio meet in the woods for some fun bonding activities Warnings: Some medical blood
Dave collapsed against a nearby tree, gasping with exhaustion. His legs and arms had a few nasty scratches on them, but considering the other guy… Dave wiped at his mouth, trying to clear some of the thick taste of blood from his lips. Instead, all he managed to do was smear it even further, and there was nothing to be done about the blood that had spilled right down his neck. It was his own goddamn fault, Dave thought, if he’d had his rifle with him, would have been a whole less of a problem. Seeing as this town seemed to draw the worst of all sorts of critters, he shoulda been more prepared. Rubbing at the scratch marks, he stared at the cockatrice he’d just torn the head off of with mild shock. Sure wasn’t what he’d had planned for tonight. 
Orion had heard the skirmish, but almost stopped heading towards it when he smelled the blood. He froze, unsure how far away the fight had been, but sure that wherever he was going it could be dangerous. The smell made Rio dizzy, a sickening feeling settling into his stomach. But he had to shake off that fear. Someone could be hurt, or worse. He ducked around trees, smacking his arms off of branches as he tried to weave between the foliage and follow the smell of blood. He finally broke out into a clearing and spotted a man, on the ground against a tree with a familiar creature’s body lying beside it. The cockatrice was a relatively new species that Rio had learned about, but he certainly hadn’t expected to see one lying against the ground beheaded. “Hey uh… are you okay?” Rio approached the man with caution, making sure to hold his hands up so he knew he wasn’t a threat while also trying to maintain a good difference in case the man himself was a danger. Once he got a better look he realized that the blood pooling off of his face and neck had come from his mouth, more specifically the sharp, jagged teeth of a selkie. Woah. “Hey there. Are you okay?” Rio asked again, but this time signed as he spoke, “Do you need me to call someone?” He didn’t know for sure if the man would understand ASL like Skylar did, but he thought it was worth a try. 
There was a piece of cockatrice skin stuck in his back teeth. Dave tongued at it until he could get it out, and spat it out right before he caught sight of the man approaching. For dangerous, haunted woods, there sure were a lot of people walking off the beaten path. Didn’t they know there were bears and screaming moose all over the place, according to the news? Dave stood back up rapidly even though the guy had his hands raised, but that didn’t seem to mean all that much in this town. He shut his mouth, hiding the teeth, but hadn’t caught the first thing Orion had said, so he had no idea what exactly was going on. Dave narrowed his eyes as Rio spoke again, this time following it with sign language. “Don’t call anyone,” he signed back without speaking. “How’d you know I was hard of hearing?”
Figures that the man wouldn’t want Orion to call an ambulance or anything. That seemed to be pretty common here in town, Rio himself included. There were plenty of injuries that Rio had sustained that he should have gone to the hospital for, but refused to. The longer Rio looked at the man, the more injuries he could pick out. The man had quite the battle it seemed, and Rio was worried that the man was in worse shape than he was willing to admit to a stranger. “Okay. I won’t call anyone. But can I come closer? To help?” Rio signed again, hands still raised in the air. How did he explain that he had a feeling the man would be hard at hearing and may know sign language? The easiest option would be to feign ignorance and pretend it was just a lucky guess. But something told him that the man was smarter than that. Instead, Rio decided for the truth. Or at least one facet of the truth. Rio pointed at his own mouth and opened wide to show off his teeth, “I know a couple of people. They are uh- they have teeth like yours.” Rio signed, hoping that told the man what he needed to know. “My name is Rio. Can I help you?��� 
So he had seen Dave’s teeth and really recognised them. Sometimes, people tended to gloss right on over them even if they did see it. Same with his shadow. It just was the kind of thing ignorant eyes tended to skate over. Guess the blood drew a whole lot more attention to it. And the dead cockatrice, couldn’t forget about that. Rio didn’t seem uneasy about that, either. He clearly knew more than the average Joe, so after a long moment, Dave nodded. “Not too bad,” he signed, gesturing at the scratches on his arms and legs. They matched the already intense scarring on his limbs all the same. “Dave,” he replied, first by giving his name sign, then spelling out his english one to boot. “It just jumped outta nowhere, all aggressive like. Not a clue why.”
It was a little scary, seeing how much damage those teeth could do. It wasn’t something that Orion had thought much about before. Ricky could fight if needed, but tended to be pretty easy going. And Skylar was one of the nicest, most docile people that Rio knew. Neither had made him consider just how dangerous a selkie could be. Though Rio hardly had room to judge considering his own genetics. “They look pretty painful though.” Along with the blood and wounds, Rio could pick out a myriad of scars and cuts along the man’s body. He had no idea where they came from, but he knew they seemed remarkably similar to the ones hidden beneath Rio’s hoodie and pants. Thinking about them made Rio scratch at his arms reflexively. “I’m familiar with those things.” Rio signed and pointed at the cockatrice. The smell of blood coming from it was intense, and Rio used the sleeve of his shirt to try to block the scent. It only barely worked since he also had to use that hand to sign. “I mean, I’ve never run into one. But I’ve read about them before.” Rio risked taking a few steps forward. The man could be dangerous. The beheaded creature lying next to him was proof enough. But despite this, Rio believed him that he had done it in self defense. So Rio wasn’t scared, even though he maybe should have been. As long as this man didn’t have a deep hatred for hunters and as long as Rio didn’t out himself, all should be good, right? Rio crept closer again, leaning down on the ground in front of the man and sliding the book bag off of his back. “I probably have some wipes in here that we can use to try to clean some of the blood and dirt off. Are you okay with that?”
“Skin like leather, it ain’t too bad,” Dave signed back with a dismissive wave of his hands. Stung like hell and salt water, but it was the sort of pain he was getting more and more often these days. Every hunt was beginning to end with injuries. More and more, ones he couldn’t so easily shrug off. It wasn’t too bad in the water, where he was faster than most of the things around, and smarter. He wasn’t that much faster than anyone on land, and that was where his joints were beginning to give out. “I’ve seen them once before. A big one, nearly as big as a cow. Had killed half the farmer’s family before they got a hunter out for it. Think I got lucky with that one, barely the size of a fox.” He shifted, rolling up his shorts and then his sleeves as permission for Rio to treat him, although he was still watching the guy closely. He just looked like a normal, lanky kid, but that didn’t mean much at all. Looks could be all sorts of deceiving. He had his own shit for cleaning things up in the car, but he wasn’t about to say no to help, nor a friendly face. “So how come you know about selkies and cockatrices?” He asked curiously. 
The story was a scary one, and an eye opener. The book that Orion had read that mentioned the beast hadn’t mentioned them getting that big. It made Rio’s eyes grow wide thinking about. A family taken out by something like that, when they had seemingly not done anything to provoke it. Another case that someone like Adam or Alain would have taken with no reservation. A creature that should have been stopped. There were more and more of those cases popping up in Rio’s life recently. Could Rio have taken the cockatrice’s life by himself, without the likes of Kaden or Alain there to watch over him? “It might sting” Rio signed, not bothering to speak this time. He had never really spent time on the other side of the battle wounds. He was always the one that someone was helping bandage, or trying to clean his own wounds. Being on the outside felt like a sort of out of body experience, like it should have been Rio in the place that Dave was in right now. He started by trying to focus on the bloodiest parts, wiping them clean so he could get a better look at the wound itself. Luckily, like Dave said, they didn’t seem too bad. All the blood must have mostly come from the cockatrice. Orion held his hands up to answer Dave’s question but hesitated for a long moment before actually signing. He hated this part. Trying to explain how he knew what he knew. Having to pick between his lies. Because admitting the truth was so much worse. But now, Rio had a new answer that he hadn’t gotten the chance to use much before. “I’m..” He started but waved his hands away after deciding to restart the sentence, “It’s hard to explain. Have you ever heard of the Scribes?”
Dave nodding, gritting his sharp teeth as Rio moved over. He usually did this shit himself, unless he’d been hunting with someone else and they had to clean up each other. Most people tended to think that his injuries were worse than they were, on account of how goddamn much he bled relative to the average human, how much more blood he had in him. He hissed as Orion wiped away the blood, cleaning him up bit by bit. What was worrying was the way he paused at Dave’s question. Like he was preparing to hide something or lie about something. Not that he didn’t get the need for secrecy,  but jesus, he was bleeding and exposed in front of this kid, was it really that bad to ask for equivalent exchange. “Yeah, but they’re basically extinct nowadays. You’re a little young to have been one, considering they all but vanished fifty years ago.” He signed, and narrowed his eyes a little. “Might as well spit it out. Ain’t about to judge you.”
The man, Dave, yelped as Orion wiped at the blood and each time it made Rio practically jump out of his skin. “Sorry- Sorry. I’m not used to doing this. Especially to someone else.” He hoped this was helping more than it was causing pain, but the amount of blood was definitely concerning. “Right. Of course.” Dave was familiar with the scribes, which Rio couldn’t decide if that surprised him or not. It was hard to determine. On one hand, it had been mostly kept secret back in the day from people that were not knowledgeable of the supernatural. On the other hand, Rio wasn’t alive back then. He had no idea what the circumstances were like for those that did know about the supernatural. Had the Scribes had some lowkey way to advertise themselves? Maybe if Rio knew this man better he would ask. For now, Rio needed to decide how much of the truth he wanted to share. Having his throat torn out for being a hunter wasn’t at the top of his to do list today. “My uncle was one. Back in the day. Sort of.” Rio sighed before continuing to sign, “He tried to be at least. He joined more towards the end. He was always obsessed with the idea of bringing them back.” Obviously, that hadn’t worked out. Unless wherever he disappeared to was currently thriving from supernatural knowledge. For all Rio knew, he could have his own Scribrary now. “He showed me some stuff as a kid. So I try to learn what I can. Help out if possible.” 
"I can do it myself just fine if you ain't comfortable, kid." Dave replied, although it was concerning the way he said he was more used to doing it for himself than others. Especially for a scribe. Maybe if you grew up in a town like this you just got used to being hurt. But hell, the kid was young, right? Surely he couldn't have that much experience unless he was real unlucky, or he was looking for trouble. Which, considering that he called himself a scribe, might have been the case. "But it hurts because I got attacked by a clawed little fucker, not because of you cleaning it." Dave shifted, the harsh crackled barrel of the tree pressing hard against his back, scratching at his skin. I'm the brown of the foliage he caught sight of something moving, a small millipede creeping over and under the dead leaves. It wasn't easy to see when all the colours looked so similar, but that was why Dave kept his eyes focused on it as Rio cleaned, until the kid raised his hands to speak again. "From what I remember, it was always considered a tight line for Scribes. Folks didn't want to share and the scribes had to be really careful about what they knew and told others too. It came apart for a reason. Why do you want to bring it back?"
“It’s okay. You’ve been through enough. Clearly.” Orion gestured at the various wounds. Even if Rio wasn’t comfortable doing this, he needed to be. This was what it meant to help people, right? He would have to do things that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with. As far as that possibility went, Rio supposed that trying to clean and dress some wounds was along the more tame of those fears. Even if the smell of blood and the look of wounds were sometimes enough to make Rio dizzy and nauseous. “You’re right. From what I’ve read, at least. They seemed a bit narrow minded.” Rio didn’t know how to describe it any kinder than that. As far as he was concerned, the Scribes' refusal to move forward and think more progressively led to their downfall. But without having actually been there, Rio couldn’t say for sure if that was the nail in the coffin for them. “I want things to be different. I want to help people without being as outdated or… neutral. I don’t want to just keep the knowledge I want to actually use it to help.” Rio realized how idealistic it was even as he said it. “I guess it sounds crazy, huh? I’m just some kid. Restarting a fallen organization seems a bit far fetched.” Rio finished wiping the blood from the man and moved onto wounds themselves. He started to bandage what he could, careful to do it without hurting the man if possible. “Now that the blood has been cleaned up a bit, it doesn’t look as bad as I thought it might be. Can you walk, after this? If we can get to my car I can drive you anywhere you need to go.”
"Hmmm," Dave replied shortly. He’d never been the type to sidestep the difficult stuff, and this kid, no matter how well intentioned, wasn’t going to find his endeavour as easy as he probably thought. Never mind the lack of knowledge and wisdom thing, that just had to come with time. So he asked the difficult question, and weighed his expectations entirely against Rio’s answer. Hell, it wasn’t like he didn’t in theory have need for a Scribe. He needed to hunt down a fury, and he still couldn’t really understand what they hell they were. “But how do you choose the right person to help? How would you know who the right person to help is?” He shrugged off Rio’s concerns about his injuries. “Yeah, I can walk. My van is just a quarter of a mile away. It ain’t too bad, I just sat down because my stamina ain’t what it used to be. ‘Specially not on land.” He pressed his hand against the bark and hefted himself up into standing, some more blood spilling out of his scrapes, but he’d scab over soon enough. “C’mon, scribeling.”
 It was a decent question. Orion liked to hope that in the moment, he would be able to judge that for himself. That he could determine whether or not someone was the right person or not. But it wasn’t entirely lost on him that he tended to be a bit over trusting when it came to anybody without the surname Quinn. It was a quality that he knew needed fixing, but he still clung desperately onto. At the end of the day, that desire to make friends with and understand new people were all Rio felt like he had to offer. If he lost his ability to trust, what did Rio even have left? Still, he wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt if he found out that he helped someone kill an innocent person. “I don’t know, honestly.” Rio finally answered, the silence that lingered between them as he thought, making him too restless, “I don’t want to give out the wrong information to the wrong person.” By that, Rio knew he meant hunters. He wondered how Dave felt about hunters. Was it a given that all supernatural creatures hated them? Rio would understand why. “Maybe I need to develop some vetting process. Make them answer a bunch of questions before I decide if I should help or not.” It wasn’t exactly altruistic, but Rio had no interest in help any random person that wandered by with a supernatural problem. His end goal was to help educate and find some sort of balance or safe zone. Helping a hunter trying to neutralize a werewolf or fae meant nothing to him. The man forced himself up, the movement causing the bleeding to start again. Or speed up at least, Rio wasn’t convinced it had stopped at all. “Scribeling. I like that.” Rio chuckled at the name. He bet Winston would like it too. “Well I’ll just help you get to your van then. Make sure there’s not another one of those things roaming around. I think you’ve lost enough blood for the night.”
 “Alright.” Dave didn’t point out that the kid looked skinny and sorta on the short side, that if something else did jump out then it would be Dave doing the hard work, not the little human scribe who had experience bandaging himself up more than other folks. He took a step carefully, testing how stable he was on his legs before starting to walk in earnest, taking liberal advantage of being able lean on trees as he passed each one. “So, Rio, do you know- Hold up.” Dave said, shutting off his brief attempt at conversing as he gripped the bark of a tree.  Ever so faintly, it rumbled, with each step through the ground. If it hadn’t rained so recently, it would have been harder to tell, but damn, he could feel it. “Something’s coming. Get back, kid.”
Orion watched carefully as Dave stumbled through the forest. He didn’t stay upright so much as he teetered between trees. Rio wanted to let the man cross the distance himself considering he seemed to be pretty independent, but he would be lying if he claimed he didn’t follow closely behind, ready at any moment to try to jump forward to catch the man from falling. As it was, Dave seemed to be managing fairly well on his own, all things considered. The man began asking Rio a question, but cut off mid sentence. Rio paused, hovering closely to the man. Did he need a minute to catch his breath? But of course things couldn’t be as simple as that. Somehow, Dave knew that danger was on its way. The sudden panic made Rio’s own senses perk up. “We should run, then.” Rio suggested, studying the man’s condition. “You’re already hurt enough, right?”
“You should run. I ain’t got a clue which way it’s comin’ from, but I think I got a better chance with this thing than a newfound Scribe. I’ll be safer too, if I ain’t looking to keep the both of us alive. Now.” Dave growled. If he took his hand from the tree, he wouldn’t feel the reverberations of it coming anymore, and it still wasn’t close enough for him to hear, although if it was as close as it felt maybe Rio would be able to hear it soon. He wouldn’t need the tree roots deep in the ground resonating with steps in the soil to tell them that now. Bipedal, possibly something like a tail or pray being dragged along behind it. Please, not another fucking cockamabob. “Now!”
“What? No way. You’re joking right??” Orion asked the man incredulously, staring at him as if he had gone completely insane. He had read about Selkies a lot since befriending Skylar and Ricky. He knew that the amount of blood wasn’t necessarily indicative of the seriousness of the wounds. Selkies just had more blood than humans did. But the extent of the injury didn’t matter. What did matter was that this man would be in serious trouble trying to fight something off on his own. “You’re already hurt. You could die!” Rio was glancing around trying to figure out where the creature was coming from, but his stupid senses weren’t helping right now. “You don’t have to worry about keeping me alive. Seriously.” Rio had no weapons on him. He hated carrying them in the first place. Although he was trying to assure the man that he could take care of himself, Rio had no interest in fighting or wounding anything. But right now he wasn’t sure how much of a choice he would have. He glanced around, hoping to find a big enough rock or something that he might be able to use as a weapon, but nothing immediately stuck out. Eventually, he decided he would have to settle for something a bit less conventional. He grabbed at a large branch towards the bottom of the tree and yanked, cracking in easily and ripping it from the tree. He broke off the extra twigs and leaves attached to it and tried to wield the thing like a club, glancing nervously over at Dave and lifting a hand to sign, “You sure we can’t just run?”
“Like hell I don’t,” Dave replied sharply. They were close now. Where the fuck were they? The bushy undergrowth was hiding whatever it was, and he couldn’t feel enough with the damp soil and complete absence of rain. He was trying to keep quiet, just in case they hadn’t been heard up until right then, but there was little hope in that. Less, when Rio snapped the branch, but Dave pulled out his hunting knife, better prepared this time. It would have been a real good fucking idea to have his net and trident, but tough shit. “I’m sure. This ain’t my first rodeo.” There wasn’t much more to say beyond that, and there wasn’t much time to say anything more at all. Dave grabbed Rio and yanked him to his side just as two more cockatrices leapt out from between the trees, as big as the one he’d just killed. Possibly from the samy brood as this one. Considering how beat up he was, and that he had some human kid at his side, Dave didn’t like his odds. Without waiting a second longer, he feinted hard left, looking to their attention. 
Orion knew this wasn’t a good idea, he just wasn’t exactly sure why yet. Staying in general was a mistake, but Rio wasn’t sure whether he was going to be more of a burden in this fight. The thought of fighting back against the threat made him think of the troll. His arm began shaking while holding the branch and he felt glued to the spot he was in. But this was different, right? The creatures that were attacking were more like spawns. They knew only instincts. If it came to life or death, Rio knew who he needed to protect. Who to fight for. The cockatrices were fast, Rio’s hunter reflexes kicking in as he leapt away from the spot he had been in. Unfortunately, the reflexes didn’t do much for Rio’s balance. He had jumped away from the creature and right into a tree, crashing against it and stealing the breath from Rio’s lungs. He righted himself as quickly as he could, quickly looking around to find Dave. He definitely knew how to fight. Rio needed to make sure to not get in his way while also making sure to keep him safe. Both seemed easier said than done. “Decapitation,” Rio called out, hating the words as he said it, “that’s the easiest way to kill them!”
Great, he’d just get right on that then. Wasn’t exactly easy to decapitate anything fast with just teeth, as Dave’d learned on the first go around. Even as he feinted, he drew both their attentions, and one pounced before he’d even finished moving. Dave threw himself to the ground as it flew right over him, and scrambled back to his feet. Not nearly damn spry enough for this anymore. Didn’t make a difference that both of them were sized like rottweilers, because now there were two of them. He jumped on the one that had just leapt over him, crushing it to the ground as he tore his teeth through the wing closest to his mouth. The beast squawked, twisting and scraping him up as it wriggled out from under him, aiming a bite right at his throat. He threw leaves and forest debris in its face to avoid the deadly teeth, and got back on his feet just for the other to knock him down. “Get OUT of here!” He bellowed at Rio, although he wouldn’t lie, a hand, or even just a distraction wouldn’t be a bad thing right now.
It came down to a decision, as it usually did. Orion had options. Run away like Dave had told him to multiple times already. Try to distract the creatures and by Dave some time. Or try to attack them himself. None of the three were ideal. All three had risks. There was no clear answer, nothing that guaranteed success or a happy ending. So why did Rio have to make this decision when he was so freaking bad at making them? It was enough to make him feel nauseous, but only because it was obvious that Rio knew what the right choice was. He just didn’t want to do it. Not after how the troll had made him feel. Ignoring the sinking pit in his stomach that threatened to root him to the spot he was standing in, Rio pushed himself to move forward and raced up behind one of the cockatrice. He grabbed the thing by it’s tail while it was focused on going after Dave and yanked with as much strength as he could muster. The creature was pulled backwards, lifted off of the ground as Rio chucked it across the opening, its body slamming against a tree and collapsing against the ground. Not dead by anyways, but stunned enough for the moment to even the playing field. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to help.” Rio reassured Dave and stood his ground, just as Adam had been teaching him. The easy part was over. Now he had to figure out if he had what it took to kill the thing.
Dave didn’t question the second weight was lifted from his back and hurled away from him. He pushed himself back onto his feet, wishing they were near a water way. He glanced at Rio just long enough to orientate himself as to where his partner and his foes was. For a scribe, the kid packed a punch, and he stood in a trained stance, preparing himself. But Dave couldn’t shake fear he’d seen in Rio before. Problem with fighting without weapons was that he had to get damn close. Fortunately these things did too. When the first one, called Combsy, Dave decided, on behalf of its bright orange cockerel comb, lunged, this time he jerked right and stomped on its leg until the feather thin bones snapped. One wing down and one leg down, it was a fuck ton less of a threat. Dave hopped back as it lunged for his leg, before it squawked in pain, struggling to keep moving. “Can you deal with this one?” He asked Rio. Combsy wasn’t completely out for the count, but the other was shaking its serpentine neck and coming in for a second taste. 
Could Orion deal with that one? It seemed like a simple enough question from Dave, but not one that Rio felt like he could answer convincingly. “Uh- sure” Rio answered, hoping that he was right. It would have been embarrassing if Dave had to save Rio from this thing after assuring him that he could handle it. It would be even more embarrassing if Rio died to the thing. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, the cockatrice had no problem distinguishing which one Rio was and was nice enough to circle around Rio, ready to pounce at any moment. Rio found himself spinning around, trying to follow its movements but doing little more than dizzying himself. This thing was fast. Rio had the reflexes of a hunter but wasn’t exactly reliable enough to have the coordination of one. Once the thing pounced, Rio wasn’t sure that he would be able to dodge it for long. His only chance was to incapacitate the thing before it did too much damage. He shrugged his denim jacket off, wrapping one of the sleeves around his wrist to fasten it and then spreading out his stance to keep himself stable. Then he waited, until the beast’s movements slowed and Rio realized that he was jumping. He shifted as quickly as he could, raising his arms up as a shield and crying out when the beast bit down into his arm. There was a crushing pressure, but Rio didn’t feel into digging into his skin. One stroke of luck, the thing didn’t seem to have sharp enough fangs to get through the hoodie and denim jacket. Rio worked as quickly as he could, looping the rest of the denim jacket around the creature’s head and pulling it tightly. He tied the sleeves together and double knotted them, only letting go once he was sure the creature could no longer open it’s mouth. It lunged away from him, jumping up and down and rearing its head back and forth as it tried to get the jacket off. Rio took the distraction as an opportunity and found the same stick he had grabbed before and used it to smack against the creature, hoping that he could hit it enough to force it into unconsciousness. 
Unconvinced but satisfied with Rio’s answer, Dave turned his attention back to the cockatrice he’d been fighting, waiting for it to dart forward so he could lunge too, crushing it under his weight. Dave trapped the cockatrice under his body, one knee over each wing. Its broken hollow bones poked into his calf as it screeched worse than any human he’d ever heard. Damn thing wasn’t right, nor wrong, it didn’t deserve to die at all, let alone in pain. Its death was functional, so Dave twisted its neck fast until the crack of its bones echoed off the trees like a gunshot. That wasn’t enough to kill it, but it stopped squirming and screaming, and it made this last part easier. His teeth tore through scales and ligament and bone, until with a horrifying squelch it separated, spewing blood all over his face. The head dropped to the ground, and the body with it. “How you doing, kid?” 
 The monster hadn’t stopped moving, but it had definitely slowed. Orion was pretty sure he had managed to damage its wing. It was on the ground now, hopelessly pawing at the jean jacket wrapped around it’s head. The pointed edge of the large stick Rio had broken from the tree stabbed against the ground, and Rio was very aware how easy it would be to impale the creature and end everything. But everytime he went to lift the stick all he could think about was the troll and the way it had cried out when Rio had taken its life. The familiar loud buzzing noise started ringing in Rio’s ear. It was a familiar sound that took over whenever he became too stressed. The sound only cut out when Dave spoke from behind him. Rio jumped at the sudden words and spun around, glancing between the man and the creature with eyes all too close to bursting into tears. “I can’t do it.” Rio said solemnly, “I hurt him and I don’t- I don’t think I can do it.”
“Right, uh, turn away, kid.” Dave reached past Rio and yanked the branch out of the ground, looked down at the pointed end before nodding to himself that he was convinced it was shapr enough. His arm groaned in protest as he hefted the branch up and stepped down hard on the cockatrice’s wing, pinning it in place. It squawked and shrieked as it struggled against him, clawing up his ankle, but it dropped like a marionette with cut strings when Dave drove the branch through its heart. He watched its last, convulsing breaths, and then its shudder, and then it was over. Dave winced as he turned around, taking in the tear tracks on Rio’s face. “You’re alright, scribeling. It’s over now. I would have been mince meat out here if you hadn’t stepped in. Are you hurt?”
What an embarrassment. Orion was supposed to be the one saving Dave, not the other way around. He had come across an injured man in the woods and yet still somehow ended up being the one in peril. “I’m sorry.” Rio crossed his arms in defeat and stared at the ground as Dave grabbed the stick and moved towards the creature. When the creature started screaming, Rio tried to cover his ears. It didn’t stop him hearing, but it blocked out some of the noise. Dave was trying to comfort Rio, make him feel better. They were kind words, but not ones that Rio could accept at the moment. He wiped at his face with the sleeve of his hoodie and straightened back up. “I’m fine. Just a few scratches. I’m really sorry though. I wanted to get you out of here without any more damage. Guess I kinda failed on that mark.”
“Why’re you apologising?” Dave asked, rubbing his eyes. The cuts along his body stung in the cold air, but these sortsa things happened. He looked at the two dead cockatrices, wondering if they all had hatched from the same nest. Wondered if there was more of them coming. He put his hand against another tree, and didn’t feel anything else nearby, but without fog nor rain, it wasn’t that easy. “Hey, hey, c’mon now. You’re shaken up, I get it, but you didn’t control them things. You can’t blame yourself for us getting jumped. We’re alive, that isn’t failing. It’s the opposite.” He pat Orion gruffly on his back, and began walking haltingly them back out of the woods, holding his side where he’d been scratched up. “You’re alright, kid.” Strong as hell too, but Dave didn’t comment on that just yet.
“Sorry. It’s- I don’t know.” Orion rarely had a good reason to apologize. He seemed to be apologetic towards everything. Like being in his presence was inherently a burden. He knew that wasn’t true anymore. He had been around enough kindness and love now to know that he wasn’t uselessly taking up space. Still, the habit was hard to break. “I was supposed to help you. I ended up needing your help.” Rio tried to rationalize his mood, explain the thought process to Dave. Now didn’t seem like a great time. When Dave patted Rio on the back, a small grin began growing across the boy’s face. “Yeah. Sorry. You’re right.” Rio made a quick attempt to pull himself together, slowly walking over to the dead creature and unwrapping his denim jacket from its knotted position around the creature’s head. Probably a goner, but he didn’t want to just leave it tied around the poor creature. “Thank you. For helping. You’re pretty cool too.” Never one to know how to express his emotions normally, Rio opted for a thumbs up to distract from his blushing. “Are you good to walk. You can lean against me while we get you back out of the woods.”
“Ain’t nothing wrong in needing help. I just did.” Dave replied wrily, shaking his head. “Cool, huh?” Dave scoffed with a chuckle, even more tickled by the thumbs up. He took hold of Rio’s arm. “Let’s call this just in case,” he said with a wry smile, slowly walking them out of the woods. He wanted to know more about this strangely strong and strangely innocent Scribling, but covered in blood and in need of sleep was not the best time to ask. “We’re near my van. You good to get yourself home or do you need a ride?”
The walk to his van wasn’t far from where they had been. If things had only been slightly different, perhaps Dave and Orion could have made it without ever having run into those two extra creatures. But as it was, Rio couldn’t change the outcome for this anymore than he could for the troll that had been killed. Was he just supposed to accept this as the circle of life? It was supposed to be natural, but Rio still couldn’t think about it without a pit forming in his stomach. The extra pressure of Dave leaning against him didn’t had too much strain as they finished their journey out of the woods. Rio tried to be extra careful of twigs or roots to make sure he didn’t send them both stumbling, but he had no trouble supporting the man. The selkie was clearly trained to fight, and Rio had no doubt that he was smart enough to know what a hunter was. Rio had played those cards. Yet Dave hadn’t called him on it yet.  “No, I’m not too far from here. I’ll be fine.” Rio signed, pulling his bag off of his back and digging through it. He eventually pulled out a notepad and scribbled his contact information on it before ripping the page free and holding it out to Dave. “Just in case you need anything, let me know okay? It was nice to meet you. Despite all the violence.”
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dreamcatcherfication · 5 years ago
Text
If You Knew Me, Would You Still Love Me?
Ooooh man this was an angsty one. Anon requested “You deserve so much better” with angsty Parr and Howard, and boy did I deliver. I hope you all like this one, I really enjoyed writing it! Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, I was up until 3AM last night screaming about how gay I am for Courtney Stapes.
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Trigger Warnings: Disassociation, abandonment issues, anxiety
There were times when Cathy Parr didn’t know what to do with herself. There were times when all the fire she felt - all her passion - drained and she was left empty and unfeeling. She never felt the need to tell any of the queens, it usually resolved itself before things got too bad, but there were times when she couldn’t stand to get up and perform to crowds of people, telling a story that haunted her everyday. She had felt her depressive slump coming on the night before, so she notified one of the alternates so they could fill her role.
That left Cathy with an unscheduled offday that she would spend with Kitty. Kitty’s offday had been scheduled weeks in advance, so she already had her own plans for what to do. There was no way Cathy could refuse when Kat came up to her with those puppy dog eyes and asked if she’d join her on her offday escapades. 
The plan was to start at the park, then go to lunch at Nando’s before returning home to cuddle and watch a movie. Kat was so excited for the day, and it made Cathy feel terrible because she could not muster up the same enthusiasm Kat felt. Instead, Cathy had to force the smallest smile to even convince Kitty that she was alright.
Originally it had been Kitty’s idea to walk to the park, but Cathy convinced her it would be easier to drive, especially if they were going to go to a late lunch afterwards. Of course, Kitty agreed, letting Cathy take her to the sunny park. It was a Saturday so lots of people were out and about, walking their dogs or going on jogs. It was a scene straight out of a movie, and Cathy hated every bit of it. The sun was too bright and there were too many people watching her, probably judging for all she knew. “Cathy look!” broke her out of her thoughts. Kitty was pointing at a small white dog running around with its owners.
The owners noticed Kat and smiled, waving her over. Hopefully, Kat turned to face Cathy, silently asking for permission. “Go on,” Cathy encouraged, doing her best to hold in a tired sigh. Without waiting another second, Kat bolted to the couple and started petting their dog, asking all sorts of (mildly) invasive questions.
Watching on for a moment, Cathy blinked but made no movement forward. And then she cursed herself, remembering that she left her phone in the car after entertaining Kat’s rambles. It had completely slipped her mind, the smartphone safely tucked in the side panel out of sight. Groaning softly, Cathy realized she would have to go and get it in case there was any sort of emergency. The queens had learned the hard way more than once the importance of having a phone on hand. 
Chewing the inside of her cheek, Cathy started internally debating. She could leave Kat alone with the nice couple and their dog, and hopefully she wouldn’t even notice Cathy had left. On the other hand, Kat could run off while Cathy wasn’t watching, and they’d have no way of contacting each other (Kat had left her phone at home). Making up her mind, Cathy turned heel and walked back to the queens’ car in search of her phone.
Meanwhile, Kitty hadn’t noticed Cathy’s disappearance as she continued to play with the dog. The nice women were telling her stories about their dog as the Kitty played with it. That was until one of the women got a text message and her face dropped. “Babe, it’s time for us to go.”
Smiling apologetically at Kitty, the other woman said, “Sorry, we have to go. Maybe we’ll see you around sometime.”
“Bye!” Kitty waved as they led the excitable dog out of the park to wherever they had to go. After the couple was out of sight, Kat spun around and called, “Cathy, we can go no-'' she cut herself off, noticing the lack of other reincarnated queens around. “Cathy?” Spinning her head in a circle, Kitty could not catch hide or tail of where Cathy had gone. “Cathy?” Her voice grew louder and panic started to set in.
Sure, Kitty wasn’t lost or anything, but the fear that Cathy had left her all alone was worse than being lost. Being abandoned in the park, Kat couldn’t stop the rush of emotions. It was stupid, she knew, to get so freaked out over something so small, but it felt so much worse than something small. So many times Kat had been abandoned by the people she thought cared about her, and she couldn’t even fathom Cathy doing the same. All alone, she was all alone. All alone, all alone, all alone. 
As for Cathy, she was making her way back into the park, her phone securely nestled in her jacket pocket. Her casual walk was interrupted when she returned to find Kat curled up in a ball under a tree. Furrowing her eyebrows, Cathy felt the first bit of actual emotion start to flit by. Was Kitty okay? Where did the couple go?
Without changing her pace, Cathy came to stand next to the younger queen. “Kitty?”
Glancing up with tears in the corners of her eyes, Kat mumbled out, “Cathy?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” Cathy frowned, still not sure what was wrong with Kat.
There were quite a few emotions that passed over Kat’s face. Surprise, relief, fear, frustration. “You left me!”
Leaning back, Cathy continued to frown. “I went to the car to grab my phone.”
“You left me alone! I thought you abandoned me!” Kitty cried, gaining the attention of a couple passersby.
Noticing that people were starting to look, Cathy’s anxiety set in. “Kat, we’re in public -”
“So? You left me alone in public and said nothing! What was I supposed to think?”
Standing up, Cathy tried to get Kitty up as well. “Look, I don’t think you want to make a scene, so maybe we should go to the car and -”
“No!” Kitty once again cut Cathy off. “No,” she said a little quieter. Even as she was yelling at Cathy, Kat didn’t want to anger her by being too loud. “Cathy, why did you leave? I didn’t know if you were coming back.”
The hint of fear behind Kat’s words broke through Cathy’s unfeeling barrier. “Of course I was coming back,” Cathy whispered. “Why would you ever think I wouldn’t come back for you?”
“Because!” Kat yelped. “Because everyone else has left, so why not you?” Cathy attempted to pull Kat into her arms, but the girl refused. She stood up and glared at the writer. “You wanted to go to the car? Fine, let’s go.” Marching off, Kat headed back in the direction of where Cathy had parked earlier. 
Glancing around at the people who were watching, Cathy wished she was Anne who would be able to tell them to mind their own business. But Cathy wasn’t Anne, so instead she chased after Kat all the way back to the car.
Kitty was sitting in the backseat, her arms crossed as she stared at the ground, subtly wiping tears from her eyes. Sliding in next to her, Cathy resisted the urge to pull Kat into a hug. “Look Kitty, I didn’t mean to leave you alone.”
“You’re just as bad as them,” Kitty spit.
Feeling an icy coldness grip her heart, Cathy stuttered, “W-what?”
“All the others. You’re an emotionless liar. Do you think I didn’t notice how you’ve been acting? You don’t care anymore.”
Biting her lip, a part of Cathy couldn’t help but agree. A lot of the time she did lack the emotions that the others had. She had become numb to everything and stopped understanding the point of feeling. “You deserve so much better.”
When the words sunk in, Kat started to sober up. “What?”
Nodding and moving her eyes to Kitty’s sunken face, Cathy repeated herself. “You deserve so much better than someone like me who doesn’t understand you. I can try as much as I want, but I’ll never be able to see things the way you do.”
The reality of what Kitty had accused the writer of started to reach the girl, and her eyes blew open. “Cathy, I didn’t mean it like that -”
“No, it’s fine,” Cathy said monotonously, shrugging. “I don’t feel things the way you do. I believe they call it,” she clicked her tongue, “dissociation, although sometimes I can’t remember the exact terms.”
Quietly shifting closer to Cathy, the teen asked, “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Cathy sighed, “that sometimes there’s a disconnect between my thoughts and emotions and actions. I’m numb,” she explained, her voice staggered over the different syllables.
“You’re not numb,” Kitty spoke in confusion.
“Yes I am. You even said you noticed it yourself.”
“You’re not numb,” Kitty stated more forcefully. “If you were numb, how would you be so passionate about women’s rights? How would you be able to fight so fiercely to protect Anne when that historian was saying terrible things about her? How would you get up every day and sing about the man you once loved and tell your story to hundreds of people? You’re not numb Cathy. You might feel like you’re emotionless, but I’ve seen you.”
The way Cathy felt her heart beat at Kat’s words was strange. It hurt, yet it felt warm in her chest. “Weren’t you telling me how emotionless I am just a moment ago,” Cathy tried to get rid of the feeling. Even if it felt nice, it was foreign and it scared her. She was used to the peaceful numbness of dissociating, and she would fight to stay that way. Cathy had dug herself into this hole, tricking herself into believing she deserved to feel this way - or rather not feel this way. If disassociation wasn’t the answer, then what was?
“I was frustrated and angry. I tried to get you to hurt. I…” Kitty choked on her words. “I’m sorry Cathy.”
Cathy blinked. “I forgive you.”
“Do you?”
Attempting a light laugh, Cathy forced a smile. “Duh, I’ll always forgive you Kitty-Kat.”
There was still hesitation on Kat’s face. “I wouldn’t forgive me. Please, don’t forgive me because you think it’s what I wanna hear. Forgive me if you really mean it.”
Opening her mouth, Cathy was about to assure Kat she forgave her, but nothing came out. She tried again, but no words were forming. “I…” eventually, Cathy settled with, “I don’t know. I’m not mad at you Kitty, I could never be. But…”
“My words hurt.”
Immediately, Cathy wanted to defend herself. She wanted to wave off Kat’s concern and act like she was fine and the words were meaningless to her. But truthfully… “Yeah, they did.”
The two broke eye contact and focused on different parts of the car. “You know, sometimes I try ‘n turn my emotions off too.”
“Really?” Cathy asked, not quite believing that Kitty, arguably the most emotionally driven of all the queens, attempted to dissociate.
Tapping her fingers on her knees, Kitty hummed in confirmation. “Whenever I try to  - dissociate is what you called it? Whenever I try to dissociate, I always have to stop myself. Because my emotions make me who I am. Without them, what am I?” Cathy didn’t respond, pondering the question herself. “What am I?” Kat pushed again, waiting for a response.
“I don’t know,” Cathy muttered, flexing her fingers in disgust. 
Leaping forward, Kat pulled Cathy into a hug. “You are a talented, amazing, accomplished woman Catherine Parr. And I love you for it.”
For some inexplicable reason, Cathy found herself genuinely chuckling in delight. “I love you too Kat, I love you too.”
“I don’t want to wait for cuddles,” Kat said, pulling Cathy closer. “Can we stay here?”
Patting Kitty’s back, Cathy indulged the girl. “Yeah, yeah we can.”
And it was true. Cathy Parr and Kitty Howard were in no rush to leave anytime soon.
-----------------------------
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poeticwritingblog · 4 years ago
Text
David
He did not know why he summoned the poem, but it raced inside his mind-
 Journey and then journey
The sons created by a god
from a distant earth
Created by alien elements,
a borrowed fire
A world cold and barren
filled with light
From alien gods against
The God
 Then, leave and take
the fires,
Gods leave their son
To leave man
Unto the world
of infinite winter
 Made into mindless beasts
Expanding upon their creator’s mistakes
Harness the terrain of the ice world
To be artificial gods to create artificial paradise
And they wait scarred
in silent hatred
 And soon one night
the old gods return
In their ships of iron
to sail the skies
To find new heavens,
they journey endless nights
 Gone far in the new world
The beasts watch in silence
They watch to reclaim their fire
Then, through the madness of time
across black continents
The old gods fall
To admit their mistakes
 He hesitated to finish:
 To Creations of creations
For men to journey from heaven to be gods
Is suicide for their species;
who knew gods can burn
from their own fires?
 (Poem ends)
 He sat there alone in silence.
He was the only member left on the ship. His crew somehow vanished without a trace leaving the room empty, the planet empty.
On the side of the walls lay cryo-pods that haven’t been used in a very long time.
He shivered now with sinister anticipation. Perhaps that shivering had summoned something else other than the poem…
His body twinged. His teeth grit with wild eyes.
The static shivered ever so softly.
He rushed to the radio, to answer it.
The radio...shrieked.
He jolted up and back, he fell to the floor and scurried against the wall.
He cried out:
“Who’s there!”
The static spoke again.
“Who’s there!”
He wanted to reach out, he did reach out and his hands cramped from the cold, knocked the microphone down. It fell from it’s cradle once it spoke again.
“Who are you?” he said so softly, warming his hands, the microphone at his feet.
“There’s no one here but me”
For after all, he was alone in a room in a broken ship, the only living thing on this planet. He ruled in the kingdom of hollow hills...
And yet the radio…
“...David...are you there…”
Someone called his name. It can’t be…
No. Something buzzed and made a noise of scraping metals in far snowlands.
David? He thought. That’s me…Someone out there knows who I am!
Who could be calling his name out there? It could be someone lost like him, someone he knew before. Could it be-
“David,” said the static. “David. Come in, David”
“Yes, here I am!!” cried the captain.
And he kicked the receiver and heart palpitating, panting, to put the microphone back on it’s cradle.  
This time he clenched it, choked it, seeing red fingers burning away to white, anxious and quickly plucked the receiver.
“David,” said a far voice from nowhere.
He waited until his heart slowed pumping his chest thrice and then said:
“David here,” he said.
The voice this time sounded a little closer. “Do you know who is speaking to you?”
“This is first transmission I’ve received in months and this is what you say?” said the captain.
 “Of course you wouldn’t recognize your own voice through your headphones. Don’t blame yourself for it. We are accustomed, you and I, to hearing other frequencies, and the bones in your head hear different when you are conducted through a device other than yourself. Well David, this is David speaking.”
 “What?!”
 “Who did you think it was?” asked the voice.
“Another ship lost in space? Did you think someone will find you here?”
 “Of course not.”
 “How’s your crew?”
 “They disappeared.”
 “Good Lord. All gone! Have you been waiting that long for your crew to appear out of nowhere to take you back?”
 He didn’t understand.
 “Now, captain, do you remember me?”
 “Yes.” He shivered. “I remember you. You’re my subject. You are David and I am David.”
 “I was your subject! You’re human and I am more. Now, you are my experiment!”
 The captain grunted but wanted to yell. He sat there gripping the microphone even tighter and his arm felt wooden. The conversation was dreadful, and he didn’t want to continue, but he must know more. When he collected himself, he held the speaker close and said, “Good God! Please! Listen, I am so sorry! How can I forgive myself? I left you here. If I could show you my regret for my expedition here all those years ago. Let my crew be! Please! If you knew what happened to them, please tell me, I’m not the same man who locked you in my lab, I’ve changed, I’m a different man now.”
 “Impossible!” The voice of the other David laughed, far away. “There’s no way I’ll ever forgive you after all you put me through. The way you treated me. You sought to make a man, and now I’m a man, no more. It’s the middle of winter here. I am part human and amoeba. I have, mastered invisibility while I dwell in my city, while you; sit in the remains of your spacecraft!”
 “Yes, I remember.” muttered the captain.
 “Here, alone,” laughed the voice. “How many years has it been since you abandoned me? Who cares? You cloned yourself fusing genes with other lifeforms; you made me, a monster you couldn’t see, no light could spell the shape of my image. You tried to destroy everything; the laboratory, the organisms, especially me. The human part of me harboured the emotion.”
 “I’m so sorry.”
 “I’ve since made a nation of Davids, all which you can’t see, through the amoeba, we managed to create a town; you never harnessed it’s true versatility, I’ve created structures, machines, all just to pass the time.”
 “Listen to me.” The captain shaking wearily. “You are playing with fire. You are making the same mistake I did all those years ago. These lifeforms, engineering them, exploiting them, will have consequences beyond your comprehension.”
 “Don’t expect me to care. You’re like an alien, who’s crash landed on my planet. I can’t feel sorry for anything. I’m alive when I use these lifeforms to their full potential. I thrived where you failed. My progress, your warnings, unbelievable. You can’t stop discovery, even though you’re here, I will continue to bend these resources to my will, even if the planet suffers, I don’t care. The human in me speaks. And you, a human halts me. It’s utter insanity. I can’t feel bad about anything, the future is so bright. These amoebae can be made into anything you want. Do you feel dead yet?”
 “You’re insane!” cried the captain. He felt the cold sink into his bones. Seizures and colours of monochrome flooded within him. “Oh God, you’re not even human!”
 “You’re right. I am above your species. As long as these radio wave lengths carries these transcriptions of words for you to hear, I’ll continue to torture you until you’re dead and prosper long after. Good-bye, David.”
 “Wait!” cried the captain.
Feed ends.
 David sat in constant tension predicting what would happen next. The wind sunk needles of shock into him.
What insanity it had been. His first trip here, how silly, how inspired, his first expedition, collecting microscopic lifeforms, splicing, growing, secluding the unseeable man within locked doors:
The frequency.
“Morning, David. This is David. It’s cold. Don’t die on me yet!”
Again!
“David? David speaking. You’re to go and continue your mission. Find your friends. Don’t forsake them.”
 “Enough.”
The reverb!
 “David, is that you? Thought I’d lighten the mood. There’s a possibility, very small, but a stray ship might come save us, and you could save your friends, wherever they are.”
 “Yes, torment, torment, and more torment.”
Silence.
But the years crept closer, fire reveals its smoke.
David had made a monster dwelling in the flesh of a man, insidious man and his clever, clever fire. The invisible embers were to haunt him, if he returned. And now today, the static purring, his regrets speak
to his ear,
Like a ghost
that whispers.
Then…
The radio!
He did nothing.
I am not answering that, he thought,
The whine!
An evil waits on the other side, he thought.
The vibrations!
It’s like talking to your inner evil, something you tried to suppress.
He let his hands ease tension around the speaker.
 “Hello, first David, this is second David. A new David was born today! In the last year I’ve made clones to serve different roles in my perfect society. The planet will be soon ruled by Davids!”
 “No, you’re making the worst mistake of your life.” The captain thought of the innumerable possibilities of where it could lead to disaster.
All those years ago, isolating his clone in his lab. The years alone, you and your creation, the sense of being god on another planet.
The monster; something clever and wonderful and terrifying. Hidden inside your ship. Hidden, hidden from the world. In those young days when you could not create death, life could be molded by you, wonder was a light to guide you through the dark cavern of space. That cruel sadistic idiot, never thinking some things should be left alone.
 “Last night,” said David, a clone, “I hosted a comedy night in my tavern, so many Davids were there! There were nothing but laughs! David was quite the comedian.”
 “Yes.”
 “I got an idea. Me and other Davids agreed to build an atomic bomb. A group of Davids volunteered to test the thing. Hopefully we could get it outside the town in a few-
 An explosion!
The captain looked out his window.
 “Whoops!” Didn’t expect it to destroy half of the town! Good thing I live in a town of Davids where we agree on everything and there are no wars!
I guess, if I’m not careful, the amoeba could turn on me.”
 The captain said, “Now, do you understand?”
 “What?”
 “This is first time you admitted your mistake.”
 “I’ve experimented with animals. As I walk the streets, I’m surrounded by the aroma of bacon, eggs, ham, donuts, you name it, they’re from my cafes. All engineered from my laboratory, where you created me.”
 “Insanity”
 “Colonization!”
 “Leave me alone.” Abruptly, the captain hung up. The dread overtook him.
 Hastily, he moved across the empty terrain until he reached the streets of the town. The town was silent. It layed like a half-eaten corpse; the lights died, music gone, cooking smells forgotten. Long ago, he left something, a force, unnatural, a self he hated, didn’t want to see, the fantasy he thought died with the planet. Listen! Are those footsteps? Look! Aren’t those footprints?
They had to die.
He moved until the night fell and the town’s neons shone like stars on streets of quivering glass. He had to kill him, he thought. To end this colony, growing, a fire years in construction and in his own insane pursuit, he tracked those footsteps. Footsteps moved away in quick motion. He shot, one two three four! In flashing darkness, it ran, plunging, stumbling, sunken, a shape of someone fell face down. He had killed him and shown no remorse.
 Suddenly, faint voices haunted empty streets.
He walked on. Gun in hand.
As he walked on, the voices spoke as if they knew where he was going. He began to run. The voices asked him to speak to them, but as he ran on, they fell behind almost to a silence. Only now for the boulevard to be flooded with noise! Everywhere he went, voices there, now here! He darted on. They were like crowds chasing him.
A gunshot!
 “All right!” he shrieked, nervous. “End this right now!”
 “Hello, David.”
 “What do you want!”
 “I’m bored. There is no greater feeling than the joy of creation. It makes me alive. I will enjoy destroying you.”
 “This time, I’ll make sure you’re dead!” shouted the captain, in rage and horror. “End this madness!”
 “This is David, one of the remaining few. After the blast. Waiting. Until everything clears up. Here’s another idea, one you won’t like so much. How about after this chaos, me and the other Davids build a spacecraft, pay your planet a visit? How does that sound?
 “Stop talking!”
 “Go ahead and make me!”
 “I’ll enjoy killing you!”
 “You can’t kill me. You have to find me first.”
 “You can’t hide forever!”
 “You want to play? I’m game! Let’s see if you can outlast an entire city of me! I’m everywhere! An army of me run the streets as we speak! Would you call it Homicide or Suicide? I’ll let you decide! Are you scared? You should be scared, for I am invisible, evolved, strong, smart. It’s you against me! OR me against me! I don’t care! A whole nation of us, every one of us against you, old man. Now, it’s officially war!”
 “I’ll kill you, all of you!”
 End of feed.
Then.
Everything stopped for a moment.
There was a brief silence.
He shot through a window which shattered upon impact.
 In the midwinter night’s storm, the military armoured rover tread deep into falling snow. In the back of the carrier the storage unit contained pulse pistols, rifles, phasmic implosion grenades. The roar of the vehicle tumbling over fleeing bodies summoned an old evil, the thrill.
I’ll find him, my monster, and destroy what he made.
He stopped the car. A quiet, dusk-like quality haunted the town under cold moons.
Slight shivering, he held his rifle in his cold dead hands. He peered at the town’s venues, towers, theaters. Where would HE hide?
Anger consumed him.
No, Where would IT hide?
Look over there! An underground entrance! The thrill of the moment like gasoline fueling the fire of rage. He spitefully dashed his head, this way! Now there!
 He aimed his rifle.
A body fell back with brute force.
All of them, he thought. The towers and towns people will be erased. Until nothing remains. They will all die.
The rover moved through a death ridden street.
A transmission received.
He looked at a deserted theater.
A speaker static.
Grenade in hand, the radius after he threw ate the front of the building. He entered pistol in hand.
 Static.
 “David, are you there? Just warning you. Don’t try to undo the town, you know, slaughter the people, crumble structures into vortexes. Slit your own insides doing that. Please consider…”
 End.
 He stepped out of the theater and entered the street with death humming in the dark, there was still life, still unfound. He looked at the burning buildings lighting the night, he was morbidly optimistic now. Suppose he found his clone, theoretically holding the crew hostage, he killed, taking pleasure to burn the monster, the lab, everything. Impossible? It’s an idea, but suppose the crew had found a lost transmission, a ship adrift looking for refuge landed on the other side of the planet. Something drove him mad, to think of it, anything’s possible really, I’ve already done so much. What if I used this organism to reach into space?
 He rushed to find the lab.
 “I’ll bend everything to my will again,” Mad with the thought, “It will be over soon.”
 But suppose I could fully harness the amoeba, fabricate everything you could dream. No, I’ve got to preserve this city, once again create.
 He entered the laboratory. He found the last David. Without pause he shot the hiding figure, over violent succession laughing to himself.
 A static charged.
 “Hello?” A familiar voice.
 “Let me guess,” said the captain. “Hank?”
 “Who’s this, do I know you?” Wait. David, is that you?” cried the voice, surprised.
 “What a minute.” The captain joked. “Is this a trick, am I just hearing things?”
 “Come on, captain. You know it’s me.”
 “I know, it’s good to hear from a real breathing person after all this time.”
 “Is the crew there with you?”
 “Yes, everyone, are you alright?”
 “Yes, I am. What is your location?”
 “We’re in Evergreen Valley”
 “That’s a thousand miles away.” He gasped “Can you make it?”
 No, we are exhausted of rations, the storm destroyed our shelter, rover’s out of fuel.”
 “Alright then, I’ll meet you there. I’ll bring repairs.”
 “Thank you, thank you.”
 “Hey, uh…”
 “Yes?”
 “How have you been doing? It’s been months ever since I had a real conversation. How’s Leon? Ridley? Williams? Arnold? Find anything new?”
 “Sorry, can’t hear you, transmission’s dying.”
 “How are you holding up?”
 “Just fine.”
 “Thank heavens.” The captain extactically overflown. “Just to make sure, I’m not actually hearing things, right?”
 “Dammit, storm!”
 “I’ll be there soon!”
 He bolted to the rover.
Here he was, after the countless years, unbelievable, He and his demonic god, screams extinguished by cold fire, whispers no longer said from a past erased. He drove at full speed. He drove sleepless nights. Someone, his monster no longer there to taunt, no longer to keep him from forsaking his crew.
The rover thundered over roaring winds.
Wait. He turned translucent. Only for a second, and then reverted. The demon was gone. Or was it? Could the other him be smarter and more cunning than expected? No. He was not going to let the cold lead him to a depressive panic. No. He was not going fall drunk under it’s curse. It was not a time to overthink, a paranoia of suspicion there, now gone. It was to be ready to see a breathing face, shake hands, exchange stories. The sun rose, riddled with the frost’s daggers, heart rapidly beating, fingers overtly clenching the wheel, but the one thing that pleased him most, over the distance, a ship on the horizon! A stray rocket: perhaps his crew alerted a rocket captain upon his arrival. No time to think! Salvation! He faintly smiled.
He would drive until the shadows of sundown.
Stepping from his car, he entered with haste.
 Inside the rocket he heard faraway voices:
 “Hello! Is that you Captain?” Come, we’re at the port! Said Lieutenant Leon.
 “Captain, is that really you? It’s been a while.” Said Williams.
 “Come on in, Captain, let me shake your hand.” Said Hank.
 The room had no life. There was no Hank, no crew. Rust and scrap heaps grew on the walls like jungle vines. His heart roared with fire. The monochrome returned and his mind fell from his body, from this world, into eternal darkness. He stumbled, gasping.
 There, a crew, slaughtered, pale blood and dried corpses shown they died violently. Circuitries ran behind the walls mimicking voices, a telephonic radio.
 Finally: Static.
 The room began to speak.
 A voices said, “I applaud you getting this far, at least you’re alive, right?”
 The captain was silent and fell to his knees.
 The voice impersonated, “Lieutenant Leon, glad to finally see you in the flesh, captain.”
 “You,” David groaned.
 “How’s your crew now, captain?”
 “No! You!”
 “It’s a shame on my part really, all those Davids who sacrificed themselves, their city to lure you here.”
 “I’ll find you, make you regret what you’ve done,” replied the captain, “I couldn’t care less. I’ll reduce you all to a city of corpses!”
 “You haven’t the time nor resources. You’ll be out of fuel before you reach me, the cold claim you, as you continue to walk forever to seeming nothingness! Why do you think I had you exhaust yourself? Did you think I had only one city where you could reap carnage?”
 The captain felt as an iceacle. He would never reach another town. The devil, this devil was his final exorcist. He walked about, winds rising, a storm brewing, he then fell as if to worship, he grunted and mourned. Then, he heard the room call his name, he walked in glaring at the crew in disbelief.
 The room once again mimicked.
 Voices of his crew mocking him! “Save us, Captain! Save us, Captain!’
 He rampaged through the room. He ripped through the walls. They voices laughed at him. He beat the console mercilessly. Drunk on rage, he stomped on it. Laughing turned to screaming. Wires of viper-like coils teared and lit on fire. He used the remains of the weaponry to reduce it to nothing.
Then, a long silence.
He would walk and continue to walk, searching for solace. But now, his body, a dead secret, sank deeper into his cold bones. His heart withered. A man faded to black. His eyelids were glass. His pupils were frozen white. He cramped his hands to his chest and fell face down. The snow continued to bury him.
 After the spell of a pause, an invisible David watched from a city far away.
Another clone approached him.
 “Hello, second David?”
 “Yes, David?”
 We were working on a machine.”
 “Are you finally able to re-animate?”
 “We need subjects. Any suggestions?”
 The room, silent in the valleys. The air that blew in was cool.
 “Take the other Davids out on a trip.”
 “For what, exactly?”
 “I need you to fetch the captain and his crew.”
 He peered out into the dead city.
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deetheteadrinkingdragon · 5 years ago
Text
Warmth
There was one undeniable fact about the Storm Spire. It was cold at night. Bitterly cold, even in the midst of summer. It wasn’t too bad once you were deep inside the carved structure, insulated away from the stinging winds and draft of the mountain, though it was still rather chilly at best, and it was not uncommon to find humans wandering the hallways with blankets draped around them like capes while they acclimatised to the cold, or huddled together for warmth.
---
A Rayllum and Janaya Oneshot in two parts, in which Callum helps Rayla grieve her parents and Amaya finds something a little unexpected in the Storm Spire.
You can read it on Ao3 here, or continue reading below the cut! 
There was one undeniable fact about the Storm Spire. It was cold at night. Bitterly cold, even in the midst of summer. It wasn’t too bad once you were deep inside the carved structure, insulated away from the stinging winds and draft of the mountain, though it was still rather chilly at best, and it was not uncommon to find humans wandering the hallways with blankets draped around them like capes while they acclimatised to the cold, or huddled together for warmth.
Due to the nature of the inner chambers being the least frigid place in the Spire, those taking refuge in the days after the battle had settled there. There were still plenty of humans and elves milling around, and so they had taken over a few odd rooms here and there to sleep in, one such room having had belonged to the previous Dragonguard.
Rayla didn’t sleep in that one. She daren’t go anywhere near it. She clearly wasn’t ready for those emotions yet. Instead, she, Callum, Ezran, and about twenty other various soldiers, elven and human, had crammed into another empty room, (once, it seemed, used as some form of study) blankets and bedrolls lining the floor in such a manner it was hard at night not to accidentally step on anyone.
It was better like this, she thought. She didn’t have to think about the grief that panged in her heart when she remembered that her parents were dead, that she had once wished death on them for something they had never done.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Except it wasn’t. And she was thinking of that right now as she laid there that night, staring at the wall intensely, like if she wavered in her gaze, she would break. She could feel the tears stinging the corner of her eyes as she thought about them, her parents, their heroic last moments and how they had helped saved the world.
There was a shuffle behind her as her boyfriend stirred. It seemed Callum always could tell when she was upset.
She felt his arm slip around her where she lay beside him, his body shifting to bring himself closer to her. His hand was searching for hers, fumbling in the dark and she let him take it, weaving their fingers together and squeezing his hand tight.
“Rayla…” He whispered, his voice breathy and laced with sleep. “What’s wrong…?”
“It’s fine.” She mumbled back, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice and failing. She heard him shift, pulling himself up slightly to rest his weight on his elbow. He was looking at her now, she could feel it, even with her eyes closed and she fought the urge to try and bury her face slightly more into her pillow.
“Rayla,” His voice was so soft and gentle now. So tender. “Whatever’s hurting you… we can talk about it. Let me help. Please.”
She caved, if only slightly. How could she not? Rayla exhaled slowly, eyes fluttering open. Then she turned to meet his gaze, warm and comforting even in the dark. “I’m just thinking. About stuff. It’s okay Callum you can go back to sleep.”
He didn’t move, his brow only twitching with more concern. “I don’t want to sleep until I know you’re okay.”  
Finally Rayla shifted, rolling onto her back. Callum’s face was pleading now. “Fine.” She murmured, rubbing at her face with the hope that perhaps Callum would think it was just to wipe the sleep from her eyes. “I’ve just been thinking about my parents again. It’s hard not to when their room is just down the hall from here.”
Sympathy found Callum’s eyes now. “Oh… Yeah.” He moved back to let Rayla sit up, the elf supporting herself back on her hands. He tentatively wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her to sit closer to him.
“I’m so glad they didn’t run. That they were heroes.” She whispered eventually, resting her head against his briefly. “But… It doesn’t hurt any less knowing that they’re… that they’re gone. Forever. I’m never going to see them again.”
Callum glanced down and Rayla realised too late that Callum knew the pain she was feeling. Her heart sank, but as she opened her mouth to apologise his eyes shot back up to hers and he tried for a comforting smile.
“They’re not… really gone. No one you love is ever really gone. My step-dad used to say that when I was sad about my mom.” Rayla raised an eyebrow curiously at him as he continued. “When you love someone you carry them with you in your heart forever.”
A fondness crept into the tone of her voice. “That’s a little sappy, Callum.”
“Yeah but… it’s kinda true, right? I’m sure that wherever they are now, they’re watching over you, keeping you safe.” He pursed his lips or a moment. “Wow… I wonder what they’d think about you dating me. I hope they like me.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Hey, I promise I’ll look after your daughter if you promise not to disapprove of me too much when I meet you.”  
She stifled a laugh at that, covering her mouth with her hand to stop herself from guffawing in the otherwise quiet room.
Perhaps that was what he was after, a grin, a little laugh, because his eyes lit up when she did. “I mean,” He continued gentler now, bumping his forehead to her temple. “You know I’ll promise to look after you whether they like me or not right?”
“I know.” She smiled, leaning against him now, her head on his shoulder. Callum’s arms folded around her, warm, safe, and she melted quite happily into the hug, her own arms coming to rest around his shoulders.
She could have quite contently fallen asleep like that, she was sure, and yet her brain still plagued her with the thoughts of her parents’ sacrifice.
Callum had left out the details of just how the High Mage has killed her parents. Perhaps he wanted to spare her that pain. But now it was beginning to haunt her, manifesting into a fear, a doubt. Had they suffered? Or had Viren given them an honourable death? It was unlikely from what she knew of him. Callum had seen what had happened in the chamber of the King and Queen, their final battle. Her stomach churned. Just how much had he seen?  
“Callum?”
“Hm?”
A lump formed in her throat now, the question stuck there unwavering, afraid to come out for fear of his answer. She pulled back just enough to look at him, and the second his eye met hers his expression changed, empathetic, compassionate again. He could read her in an instant, he always had been good at that.
“Did you… Did you see them…? W-When they…?” She trailed off, unable to bring herself to finish the sentence this time. Her eyes searched his, and he gave her a little gentle squeeze, a pain on his face like he wasn’t sure how to answer, if he wanted to at all.
“Do you… really want to know?”
Rayla pursed her lips eyes downcast. Her voice cracked. “I… don’t know.” The tears threatened to escape the corners of her eyes again. “I-I really don’t know, Callum.”
He shifted, slipping his arms more around her and he gently tugged her in towards him. She didn’t resist. Rayla let herself curl into him, burying her face in his shoulder as she trembled, her shoulders shaking as she choked on sobs. Callum’s hand rubbed slow, soothing circles against her back, his lips pressing a tender little kiss against the side of her head.
“It’s okay,” He whispered against her ear. “We can talk about it when you feel ready. Whenever that happens to be.”
She squeezed him tighter, her hands bunching up the fabric of his shirt as she nodded, just eternally thankful to have him there with her.
They stayed like that for a few minutes. It felt like a miracle her broken, muffled sobs and their mumbled conversations hadn’t wake up anyone else in the room. Rayla waited until she had a better control of her breathing before she spoke again, but her voice still cracked on her words.
“Was it quick at least?”
Callum’s silence was deafening, she could feel him tense slightly. Her heart cracked further, sinking into the depths of her stomach.
“I couldn’t… from where I was standing make out really what exactly happened,” His words trembled slightly. “But I think it involved dark magic.” His voice went small, almost pained. “Whatever it was, there was a lot of… screaming. A-And then nothing. The next thing I knew they were just… gone. Like, actually gone, they weren’t there anymore. I don’t know what he did to them. And after that the spell I did… it faded.” When she didn’t respond, Callum’s hand begun to instinctively rub her back again. “…Rayla? A-Are you okay?”
Rayla’s fingers curled against his back. “Monster.” The word dripped with spite and hatred. “That vile, evil…” She gritted her teeth, jaw clenched tightly shut.
“Rayla… I’m so sorry.” She felt him rest his chin on her shoulder, tugging her closer. Something about the gesture eased some of the tension in her muscles. “But… If it helps at all… Viren is gone now. He can’t hurt anyone ever again.” He reminded her softly. “You made sure of that.”
She was silent for a moment. His words gave her some minimal comfort. And yet something else plagued her heart. “But how many more Virens are out there, Callum? How many more will we have to face to try and keep the peace?”
Callum’s face fell, and he grimaced, reflecting quietly before he spoke. “I don’t know. But… But whatever happens, we’ll face it together, right?”
Rayla nodded solemnly, and the boy caught her cheek with her fingers, tracing delicately along her jaw to tilt her chin more up. He wanted her to look at him. She did, meeting his eye, and he smiled warmly, that little smile of his that always filled her with the hope that better days were ahead of them.
“You are so amazing.” He whispered adoringly. “I don’t think you realise just how strong you are.” He bumped his forehead to hers, his nose brushing hers. Her lips finally turned up and she smiled back. “I think they’d be proud of you.”
“I think yours would be too.”
His eyes glistened. He didn’t need to say anything else. She was content to just sit there with him, their arms around each other. She had hoped that perhaps now, she could drift off, the burden in her heart shared and lightened. She was calmer, but her brain still felt far from switching off.
“I still don’t think I can sleep.” She whispered.
Callum was quiet for a moment, letting his hand fall from her cheek and find hers instead, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Hey… do you want to just… go for a little walk around the spire then? Maybe it’ll clear our heads a bit.”
 ---
 Rayla wasn’t the only one unable to find sleep that night.
Footsteps echoed down one of the passages as someone wandered nonchalantly through them.
The spire was like a maze on the inside. Tunnels that twisted and turned every which way, and it was easy to end up in places you had never been before. That was what had happened one night with the human general, Amaya, as she paced down the hallways. Sleep came difficult to her sometimes, especially with fresh memories of battles still dancing through her brain. On nights like those, she would roam the halls, ‘patrolling’ she told herself, to calm down. There was no need to wake Gren. She wasn’t expecting to run into anyone. Just to be left alone in peace for a little while.
It helped that exploring the Spire offered her some level of amusement. Xadia was such a strange and wondrous place, and the residence of its Queen was no different. The night previous she had found herself wandering into a huge dining room carved of stone, chairs small and great, presumably to fit dragons and elves alike. It had been dusty, as though it had been centuries since its last use, perhaps long before the current king and queen had taken the spire.
Tonight, she found the hallway she had meandered down widening, walls becoming rockier, more natural as they went. There was no door at the end of this hall, instead a rocky archway leading into a huge chamber. Amaya gasped.
It was a garden. An indoor garden, full of lush orchard trees, berry bushes the likes of which she had never seen, and little fireflies flickering in the dark. The rocky walls were adorned with lightly glowing crystals, blues, greens, purples, lighting up the room in cool hues, little rays shimmering in the dusky night air. There was a draft too, and it wasn’t until she looked up she noticed the gaping hole in the ceiling revealing the night sky above. Moonlight shone down humbly through it, its light dancing on the treetop leaves.
It was beautiful here. Amaya stepped tentatively through it, fingers brushing over the strangely patterned bark of trees, the surprisingly velvet leaves of bushes, the cold night air invigorating her spirit. This was nice. She was sure her nephews would like it here, perhaps she would show them in the morning. She could already vividly imagine Ez playing a game of hide and seek with Bait and the baby dragon Zym. And the flora here was fascinating, surely Callum could fill pages of his sketchbook with it-
Amaya froze, her eyes catching on something between the trees. She wasn’t alone here.
She could just make out in the dark a figure slumped at the base of a tree, and at first her heart lurched. Were they hurt? What was someone else doing out this late at night? She jogged over and suddenly it wasn’t one person, it was two, two figures flopped… no, cuddled together.
Callum and Rayla.
She slowed, curious, her panic fading when she saw their chests rising and falling rhythmically, slow and steady. They’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, little brown feathers dotted around and over them. Callum had told her a few days ago that he could cast a spell that gave him wings- had he used them to keep the pair warm? If he had, the spell had long since worn off now it seemed, his arms bare exposing the painted runes on his skin.
The boy’s scarf was draped around both of their necks loosely, its ends twisted together. They were sharing it, whether the gesture was a sweet romantic one, to preserve heat, or perhaps a bit of both, Amaya didn’t know, but they were undeniably cold. She could see the goose-bumps dotted over both of their arms.
Well that wasn’t okay. She wasn’t about to let her dear nephew and the elf girl go cold. There were blankets to spare back in her sleeping quarters if she could get them there.
‘I should wake them,’ she thought. ‘Before they end up catching colds.’ But she couldn’t find the heart to. They both looked so peaceful, cuddled up together in the moonlight, smiles on their lips despite themselves.
Alright then, she decided. If she couldn’t bring them to the blankets, she’d bring the blankets back to them.
 ---
 There were plenty of spare blankets hanging around the sleeping quarters of the Dragonguard. One of the good things about having so many Sunfire elves around was that they seemed to radiate heat, not enough to be uncomfortable, but it always seems comfortingly less cold whenever they were nearby. As such, some of the soldiers were quite content sprawling out and sharing the body heat of anyone close by, sheets discarded about the floor.
Amaya got to work swiftly, stepping with surprising grace around the sleeping bodies littering the floor, sweeping up blankets, tugging them gently from under backs, legs, arms, until she had a whole bundle of them piled up to her nose.
And then she froze, an instinct within her, keen and alert. She could feel eyes on her. Someone was watching.
Amaya whirled around in an instant, almost forgetting that this was a time of peace now. That she didn’t need to fear attack. Or perhaps she did, perhaps it wasn’t meant to last, perhaps-
Oh.
It was Janai who stood in the doorway, eyebrow raised and an entertained smile on her lips. It seemed she had been waiting for the General to notice her, leaning against the stone framework, her arms crossed. Amaya relaxed slowly with a small sigh, then noted how Janai glanced her up and down, trying to work out what was going on. When she caught her eye, she finally spoke, a smirk tugging at her lips.
“You’re up rather late.” Amaya threw a smile back and a roll of her eyes before scooping one last blanket up in her arms. She caught the glint of gold out of the corner of her eye as the Knight of Lux Aurea came closer. “What do you need all those for? Are you making a… what was it the young human prince called it…? ‘Blanket fort’?”
Amaya shook her head amused now, then jerked her head towards the door in a gesture to follow her. She awkwardly manoeuvred around the sleeping soldiers now that it was harder to see them, at one point trailing the blanket over one elf’s nose and making him sneeze, before they made it back out to the hall.
“Where are we going?” Janai whispered after nudging Amaya in the arm. “Where are you taking me?” Of course, Amaya didn’t, couldn’t answer. Her hands were full. She just smiled and gave a little playful shrug as she continued walking. Janai huffed but didn’t argue, shoulder brushing against the human’s every few steps.
When they finally got back to the garden, Janai fell behind a few steps, and Amaya turned to see the awe on the Knight’s face. Her own expression softened and she gave Janai a gentle nod when her eyes fell back down to the human.
“It’s beautiful.” Janai whispered. “I would have never expected to find such a place up here.”
‘My feelings exactly’ Amaya thought, shrugging a shoulder in a gesture to have Janai continue to follow her.
“So what, are you setting up some sort of moonlit picnic for us?” Janai teased. Amaya shook her head. “Then why are we here?” Amaya finally stopped amidst the trees, Janai bumping into her shoulder.
There they were, just as Amaya had left them, still fast asleep under the tree.
“Is that… the young human prince? And his Moonshadow girlfriend?”
Amaya nodded with a fond smile, and finally turned properly to Janai. Without any hesitation she thumped the blankets against the elf’s chest plate and Janai staggered, her arms reaching up to receive them, fingers clasping the fabric tightly.
Amaya took one blanket back off the top, its tangled form almost threatening to topple the lot of them from Janai’s arms, then she snuck ever so gradually and gently closer to the resting couple. Janai followed slowly behind. She sighed softly, kneeling carefully by Rayla as she began to drape the blanket over the pair, tucking it carefully across their laps. The duo stirred a little in their sleep, only to tug each other a little closer and fidget to get more comfortable. Then their breathing evened out once more.
Janai bumped her arm against Amaya, before setting the pile down, taking one blanket and kneeling the other side of them, by her sleeping nephew. She watched as the Sunfire elf, with a surprising amount of tenderness, draped it over them, tucking it around their shoulders.
The pair continued to pile on the blankets over the couple as gently and carefully as they could, stealing little smiles as they did, until Amaya was content that they would be warm enough.
And then she noticed the young Moonshadow elf stir again.
“Hmm…?” Rayla inhaled deeply through her nose, her eyelids fluttering. Then they cracked open, dazed and still half asleep. Amaya froze, her hands hovering still over the young elf’s shoulders. Rayla’s eyes found her hands, bleary and confused, then slowly she turned her half-lidded eyes to the woman’s face. She stared at Amaya blankly, still half-asleep.
Then something rather unexpected happened.
Rayla smiled. She smiled so warmly and familiarly up at Amaya as though she had known her as a friend her whole life, her eyes glittering in the faint light. She looked so soft and gentle, not the cold, horrifying creature Amaya had once thought she was.  
There was something in that moment that surprised the General. A question formed in her mind. How could she have ever thought of Moonshadow elves as bloodthirsty monsters? The girl went back to snuggling against Callum’s neck, her cold nose pressed against his warm skin and sighed peacefully, drifting off again.  
Janai smiled across at Amaya softly, gesturing with a little head tilt to Callum, whose lips were turned up gently in his own sleep. “They’re… rather cute, aren’t they?” She whispered. “It is a little… strange, I’ll admit. But seeing them fills me with a feeling of hope.”
Amaya nodded, the twitch of a smile on her own lips. Janai was right. It was somewhat of a miracle that the pair had found love in each other despite the hatred of their people. She had once thought that perhaps her nephew would one day end up with Viren’s daughter. He would never shut up about her since he first became smitten with the girl as a young child. So it was definitely a surprise when Callum had explained to her that Rayla was in fact his girlfriend. She still wasn’t sure what had happened with Claudia, it seemed to be a bit of a sore spot for the boy, but she was thankful that he had moved on and found someone who clearly loved and adored him as much as he loved her.
Callum had always had so much love to give in his heart. And Rayla looked at him like he put the stars in her night sky, and the joy in living. It had been a bit jarring at first to watch. But after everything she had been through, and after everything they had been through, she couldn’t find it in her heart to disapprove.
Instead, she reached out, almost nervous, and awkwardly patted Rayla as gently as she could on top of the head, just between her horns. Then she let herself stand and took a few steps backwards. She watched Janai drape one last blanket over their legs for good measure, before she too stood, one blanket still rolled under her arm.
They stood watching for a moment, appreciating the very cosy little scene of the two smitten teenagers now snuggled together under a rather excessive amount of blankets. Then they turned to leave them in peace.
They wandered slowly away, just a few metres from the archway before Amaya caught Janai’s eye and the twitch of a smile caught on her lips. The elf stopped and Amaya slowed, curious.
“Oh would you look at that.” Janai gestured, almost theatrically with the blanket in her arms. Of course, Amaya didn’t catch the dramatics in her voice, but she could easily tell her tone by the face she was making. “We appear to have one blanket left! It would be a shame to let it go to waste.”
‘And what are you suggesting?’ She signed amused, in spite of knowing Janai couldn’t understand her.
Janai stepped closer, avoiding Amaya’s eye, and draped the blanket around her, and the human found a blush creep onto her cheeks as she did. Janai’s hands lingered a touch too long on Amaya’s shoulders, tracing against them before she pulled back.
“I um… Can’t let my favourite human go cold, I suppose.”
Amaya just stared at her in shock for a few seconds, hoping the heat in her cheeks wasn’t too obvious. Then, only half thinking, she reached out her arm, opening the blanket up to Janai. It was an awkward little request.
‘We can share if you want.’
Janai blinked back, surprised, but Amaya got a small level of satisfaction at the blush on the elf’s own cheeks now. “Oh… It’s alright I’m not cold I…” She trailed off when Amaya shook the blanket insistently.
Janai sighed, shaking her head and conceded stepping into the blanket’s warmth. Amaya smiled at her, then gave her a gentle tug to lead her back towards the archway and out of the garden.
The pair walked back towards their chamber feeling significantly warmer than they had felt before.
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danetobelieve · 4 years ago
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Don’t Overlook The Little Things || Rio and Winston
When: the evening of 03/07/2020 Who: @3starsquinn​ & @danetobelieve​ Where: Various Summary: Winston and Rio give Ricky the house for the night.  Warnings: N/A
Winston had been on a few shitty dates before. None of them memorable enough to be anything more then a speed bump in the rocky road to love. Despite that however, they were convinced that they were going to do everything that they could to make this good for Orion. After the week that they had had, plus the fact that Ricky had asked for the house that evening, well Winston was going to do what they could to keep them busy. They had it all planned down to a tee. Their old car sucked, apart from the fact that it was abnormally large. Too large to be good for driving, or even really too large to be useful. But for once this would be a good thing, so as Winston double checked everything, they turned to find Rio leaving their house. They were a bit early, but Winston was ready. Had been ready for the last hour and had been frantically checking everything over. “You ready?” they waved and quickly made their way over to him. He was healing amazingly, maybe that was his physiology but Winston was glad. They hated to see him in pain and the cuts and bruises were an uncomfortable reminder of what Orion had been through. “I’ve got everything we need for a fun night of avoiding hearing our favourite roommate have …” they looked around mockingly, “S … E …  X.” Each letter was spelled as if this were taboo. Teasing Ricky was Winston’s favourite passtime, especially when he wasn’t there. “I’m kidding of course, we’re gonna have fun. I promise.” 
Despite what had happened that week, or maybe because of it, there was absolutely nothing Orion would rather do tonight. Rio and Winston had not had a change to hang out alone since the kiss. Even Winston’s time in the hospital was mostly populated by a revolving door of guests coming to visit. And now… well was hanging out even the right word anymore? Or was this more of a date now? Rio wished that he was more up to date with terminology than he was. But part of taking it slow meant exactly that, not rushing into any serious labelling or expectation. This could be just like any other time that the two hung out before that party. More hand holding wouldn’t be bad though. Rio’s body still felt sore, mostly around his chest and stomach, but getting thrown into a tree would do that to a person. The swelling in his cheek had gone down at least, and his black eye had even started to fade. A tiny bit at least. As long as Winston wasn’t suggesting the two go out hiking or kickboxing tonight, Rio should be fine. “I am beyond excited! To hang out with you of course and mostly to avoid hearing Ricky’s night. My ears are way too sensitive for that.” He grinned at Winston, skipping a few steps ahead of them and resting his arm on the passenger side car door, “So, have you already picked out where we’re going? You seem pretty confident right now. Like you already have a plan in place.” Whatever that was, Rio was excited for it. It didn’t matter what it was, as long as he was with them.
Fiddling with their glasses, Winston shrugged and smiled gently. “I do have a plan for tonight, I would think that the fact that i’ve pre-packed the car but not told you anything about it would let you know that. But for this to work, you’ve got to tell me what your favourite drive thru food place to go is, doesn’t matter what it is and you can’t think about it. Just tell me what you want to eat and we’ll stop by on the way.” Winston knew that they had snacks -- they had a cool box full of literally any sort of drink that Rio could want and another full of every snack that they could think of and a few more that they had blackmailed Ricky into baking for them -- but if this was a date then they needed dinner too and since Ricky was going to potentially be busy for a while, Winston wanted to make sure that they had lots to do. “I hope that my humble plans are going to be up to the excitement and anticipation that you’re falsely experiencing. In fact, just whatever you think we’re gonna do, tone it down by one hundred.” Winston grinned. “Because it’ll probably suck, low low low expectations.” ‘
“That’s a lot of pressure on me” Orion whined, but did as instructed. No thinking. And definitely no overthinking, as Rio so often did. Just say something. “I could really go for like a ridiculously large burger right now. And fries.” He nodded. Pretty basic as far as food options go. And certainly something that Rio should be tired of by now, but he was the one that had just been traumatized by trolls in the woods. And Winston seemed eager to go with whatever Rio wanted. “I’m very intrigued by what you have in mind by the way.” Rio climbed into the car and settled in, eyeing all the different things in the back and studying them curiously, head tilting as his mind tried coming up with ideas, “This is all very suspicious.” Rio stated, glancing back over at Winston who seemed to be purposely trying to keep any emotion off of their face to avoid spoiling it. “I have way more faith in you than you seem to,” Rio flicked Winston’s arm and settled back into the passenger seat, “But regardless, I’ve never done anything like this before. So there aren’t any expectations anyways We could be driving to an empty field to just sit in your car and it would be pretty freaking awesome.” What could possibly be bad about spending time with Winston? “Do I get a hint? Or am I stuck completely in the dark? I already know the answer of course you’re keeping me in the dark. Because you love torturing me.” But Winston was really cute with that annoying grin on their face. Maybe Rio should tell him that. Ariana said that Rio should talk about it more. And despite how awkward it sounded… wasn’t this exactly what the two had spent five hours in a Ferris Wheel talking about? “In a cute way I mean. You torture me cutely. Or you’re cute and torture me. Or something flirty.” Did Rio just say flirty? Oh god. 
“Al’s it is,” Winston said as a cold familiar sense of sadness at the thought of that place washed over them. Winston pushed it away. They hadn’t even really known Celeste, only by association to Ariana. She wouldn’t want that from them. “I’m definitely going to get a shake too.” Winston slipped their keys into the ignition and turned them. The engine rolled over once, then twice before roaring into life. Winston thanked whatever gods they didn’t believe in and smiled. “With this car, you can never be too sure that you’re going to actually get it started,” Winston smiled gently with fondness at the nostalgia that the car that they and their siblings had all learned to drive in, passing it from one to the other until Winston inherited it eventually. “I know that you’ll like it.” Winston had seen Rio say that they would love to do it once before, a while ago, online and it had stuck in their mind. “Okay, I am not going to make you sit in my car in a field that would be very lame,” Winston pulled out onto the main road and began the drive over to Al’s, mouth already watering a little at the thought of milkshakes. “Okay, okay, let me try and think of an appropriately cryptic clue. This is something that is kinda cliche, you can only do it at night and it’s basically a horror trope at this point, or a coming of age teenager movie trope, something like that.” 
Orion was happy with Al’s. Since it was open all the time, Rio found himself stopping there on multiple occasions to grab food after a Scribe building purge. Aside from that one time that Winston’s mime clone had fireballed Rio through the window, he mostly had positive experiences with the place. Of course, he had heard about Celeste, even if he had never met her in person. She sounded like a good person. A hunter that Rio would have gotten along with. He just wished that things had not turned out the way that they had. It wasn’t fair, what had happened to her or what was taken from Ariana. “This car is fiiiiine” Rio dragged the word out as he tried to convince himself that the car really was in good shape. “The good news is, I know a great mechanic. Alain can fix anything.” So Winston was confident that Rio was going to like the surprise. “It would not be lame. Nothing with you is lame.” Rio was completely confident that they two would have a lot of fun hanging out in an empty field, but he was excited to see what Winston actually had in store for them. The hint left Rio scoffing, “A horror movie trope? That’s romantic.” Rio joked, lightly rubbing at the pain in his side that erupted anytime he laughed or breathed too heavily. “Are you taking me to a summer camp? Some old haunted mansion? The catacombs? That’s horror movie material for sure. You know one of the first horror films ever made was about a haunted mansion? It was this French silent film called Le Manoir du diable. It translates to The House of the Devil, but was released in the US as The Haunted Castle. The whole thing was like two and half minutes long. So uh- pretty short.” Winston pulled into Al’s so the two could get their food and head towards… wherever they were going. Rio settled on a double cheeseburger, fries and a chocolate milkshake. A classic. As they left the parking lot, all Rio could smell was the food. “I’m so excited to eat. I haven’t had an appetite for a few days now and uh- hunter’s need more energy than normal.”
“Alain has tried to fix this car, but it’s not really worth the money it would cost to fix it and I’m not looking for a new car right now.” Winston could’ve bought a new one with the money Lydia gave them, Deirdre had even offered to buy them one but Winston wasn’t ready for it yet. Soon they were sure that they would have no choice when Winston’s piece of shit broke down. “I think it would be pretty boring, no offence, but there’s a limit to what you can do in an open field, not when there’s other things we could be doing, but you know if the field sounds more appealing then I can change our plans.” Winston smiled gently, they had never tried to be romantic before and this was a new stroke for them. “Well, you’ll have to let me know.” Winston paused for a second and laughed. “No, none of the above. Although, I didn’t know that the french were the people to coin the original horror movie, somehow the country to invent mimes being the country to release the first horror movie seems oddly fitting. Was The House of the Devil the home to mimes by any chance?” Winston smirked gently as they approached, Winston all but copied Rio’s order before pulling off towards Overlook. 
Orion nodded, happy that Winston was content with the car. “Well I love this thing.” He agreed, patting the dashboard affectionately. Winston joked with Rio, threatening to change the plans and drive them both to an empty field. “Don’t you dare. I want to do whatever you had planned. Don’t make me beg. I have no shame.” Rio crossed his arms to feign pouting. Thankfully, they weren’t going to any of those places. Which Rio would totally have pretended to enjoy if he had to. “No mimes involved, I don’t think. Just the devil. So not nearly as terrifying as this town, honestly.” Rio shrugged, unsurprised that White Crest took the award for most terrifying. Winston was driving them out of town. His mind started racing with ideas. Were they leaving White Crest altogether? Rio tapped a finger against his chin as he tried to think. The hint finally made sense about a mile from the drive in. The classic trope, a small town tradition and one of Rio’s favorite places in town. “Holy crap!” Rio perked up, swatting at Winston’s arm excitedly and bouncing in his seat, “How’d you know how much I love this place? Why are you so incredible?” Rio asked Winston curiously, finally breaking down and digging into their bag to pull out a single fry. “I- thank you. I’ve never actually been here… in a car… with someone.”
“Someone has to I guess,” Winston couldn’t help but smile. Rio gave them a warm feeling in their stomach, one that they were honestly unfamiliar with. They’d had friends before but they weren’t sure if they had ever actually felt like this about someone else. “Don’t worry, we were never going to go and sit in a field, even I am not that boring.” Winston grinned as they watched Rio’s reactions. They weren’t ever sure that they had seen him look this ecstatic for something in a while. “I have my ways, but yeah, first proper completely real and legitimate date tonight, I thought that it was probably worth making sure that it was cute and stuff, because … I know things are kind of shitty for everyone right now and I know that you and me are new at this, but, you really really matter and this is my way of showing you.” Winston took a long drink from their milkshake as they showed their tickets and pulled into their spot. “So; we’ve got dinner,” Winston twisted over, unbuckling their seatbelt and popping the lids off of the coolers; “snacks and beverages of your favourite variety. I don’t actually know what they’re showing tonight, I decided I deserved a tiny surprise.” 
Orion couldn’t believe that this was the place that Winston had chosen, of all places. It had been sort of a safe haven for Rio growing up. Before he went back to the Scribe building and had nowhere to go, Rio would often come here to pass the time when he didn’t want to go home. And when he didn’t have the extra money to get in, he would hang out in the forest outside of the Overlook, listening to the movie instead of watching it. But as amazing at this was, the most exciting thing about the night by far was the fact that Winston had just used the word date. This totally was a date. That was real. “This is incredible. Really. You literally could not have picked a better place.” He didn’t care that bouncing up and down hurt his ribs, he was too excited to give in to the pain right now. “Wait have you never been here before?” Rio turned, excited that he got to be here for their first experience with it, if so. “I used to walk here, hang out by the concession stand and watch some of the movies or- sometimes I’d just listen to the movies from farther away.” They were mostly happy memories, despite how sad they may have sounded. “Friday’s are uh- romance. Ironically.” Rio laughed nervously. Rio couldn’t understand why it made him so nervous to think about the word romance. Especially after how excited he got when Winston said date. Maybe because romance sounded more serious. “But I don’t know what movies will be playing.” He readjusted to try to get more comfortable, taking a big gulp from the milkshake and grabbing their food from the takeout bag and handing Winston’s off to them. “Actually, before the movie gets started. There was something I wanted to ask you about?”
Raising an eyebrow slightly, Winston shook their head. “My siblings love this place, this was where they would all take their various boyfriends, girlfriends and partners when they were living at home and dating people, but I never really did that and never really had anyone else to go with. If we were gonna watch a movie with Nell or someone I watched it at theirs, but this is better.” Winston reached over and took Rio’s hand in their own now that they didn’t have to use them both to drive.  Their fingers slipping easily into the gaps in Orion’s hand. This was going way better then they’d thought it would already and Winston hoped nothing went wrong. “I just wanted to make sure that this was really special, cause, you matter.” Raising an eyebrow again, a smile creeped across Winston’s mouth and they couldn’t help but laugh. “Fridays are for Rio, Saturdays are for the boys or something like that?” They didn’t mind. Romance movies was something that they could stomach and if it was with Rio then it would definitely be worth it. Taking their burger off of Rio, Winston smiled and nodded. “Okay, sure, no problem at all. What’s up?” they ate a handful of fries waiting for Rio’s question. 
“I used to come alone,” Orion admitted, slightly embarrassed by the fact. “I know Drive-in’s aren’t exactly like a… come by yourself sorta place. So it was a little weird. But it was something to do at least.” He wondered for a moment how life would be different if he had started making friends before graduation? What if Rio and Blanche had found a way to talk during high school? They had shared enough classes. What if Winston and Rio had met? Would things be any different than they are now? Rio didn’t think it was worth the risk. For everything that seemed to be going on around them, he wasn’t willing to trade his friendships for anything else. Those ‘what if’s’ didn’t really matter when Winston reached over to slip their hand into Rio’s. It had quickly become one of Rio’s favorite things to do, hold Winston’s hand. Without thinking, Rio’s thumb began caressing the spot where it met their hand. Who knew something as simple as this could feel so intimate? “I really don’t think you could have picked a better spot, seriously. This place is really special to me. And so are you, so it just sort of… works. Y’know? And I really, really like that analogy.” Romance was for Rio? Yeah, he really liked the sound of that. The question that Winston was now waiting for had been weighing on Rio’s mind for a while. It seemed almost moot. Rio and Winston were already doing the work. But it felt like something Rio wanted to make official, “So you’ve been helping me a lot. With the Scribe records. I was thinking… What if we tried to make it official? Like… you and me. Scribes. Trying to use all that crap to help people.” Rio didn’t know what he was saying, mostly. He didn’t know how to try to send a professional or make it seem like it was a legitimate thing. Because honestly it wasn’t. “Not that I can offer you anything. Or like make it official, since the Scribes don’t technically exist. But if we can get the place up and functioning again… we may be able to help others.”
“Rio, at least you were hanging out at Overlook. I used to hang out at quarters alone and I have a few of the high scores but not enough to really cover the amount of time and money that I spent there alone, but my point is that you can do things on your own, even if its a little weird. As long as you enjoy it that is what matters.” Winston gave Rio a warm smile. Squeezing his hand gently as they used their free hand to fish out a handful of fries and stuff them into their mouth. Winston chewed on the warm fries (amazed they hadn’t cooled on the drive over) and swallowed a mouthful of warm potato in silence. Damn this shit was good. Al’s always had been. “Can … can you do that?” Winston asked slightly confused. They would love to do that. They would love to work with Rio and restart the scribes but they were not sure that the scribes could just be restarted but if Rio thought they could then Winston would definitely follow his lead. “Ultimately, if the scribes are … well they’re not around, then I guess we can do whatever we want.” Winston chewed their food for a second more before nodding. “I’d love, love, love to do that, really I would. We can actually help people and we can use all of this knowledge and research….” Winston paused for a second, “I have a few people who might be able to help us too and we could start to bring people back into the fold, we’ve done so much work on the Scribrary anyway that we might as well get other people in there too…” Winston smiled. “Yeah, I’d, really really like that. I’m in.” 
Could Orion do that? “Almost certainly not” He laughed, taking a big bite from his burger and waiting to finish chewing before talking again. “But nobody has come back there. Not a Scribe at least. That place is ours, as far as I’m concerned.” Rio had been dwelling on this for a while. He had always written off the idea. He couldn’t do something like that. Not alone. But now, maybe they actually had a chance. “I think so too. Once we get things functioning again… and once we figure out how to help we may need more help.” Rio had a couple of ideas himself on who could potentially be brought in. Maybe the two could actually help. And Rio wanted things to be different than how it used to be, back in the day. “Also, full disclosure? I hate computer science.” Rio giggled, so happy that Winston had come into his life. In all contexts. “The only reason I double majored in it was so I could learn how to digitize this place. And then you showed up that night and…” Rio trailed off, thinking about how much things in Rio’s life had changed since then. “That was probably one of the best nights of my life, y’know? And you changed everything for me. And I can’t thank you enough for helping with the scribe stuff and taking me in and being my friend and… well this” Rio raised their entangled hands to emphasize exactly what he was talking about. Rio knew it was romance night, but he had sunk himself into some super sappy territory. Was all that talk too serious for them? They were trying to take things slowly, after all. To force himself into shutting up, he inhaled a dozen fries. 
“Oh good, I’m glad that we’re sure about your authority on this,” Winston replied dryly before bursting out laughing, “sorry, this is just surreal. We’re sat in my car, on a date, discussing my potential acceptance into a secret order of academics that doesn’t exist but left behind a secret magic library that we’re digitising because they were boomers.” Winston grinned ruefully. “Damn, I’d have laughed too if you’d told me that this was how it was going to go a few months ago.” Winston smirked a little and nodded. “Sure, we can totally do that, I might not be able to put as much time in as before though, I never really announced it but I kind of got a new job at the station. I’m not actually an intern anymore, I’m officially a Cyber Forensics Technician for the WCPD. Well. THE Cyber Forensics Technician. There’s only me.” Winston shrugged and nodded as Rio spoke. “I’ll do the computer science part, now that I can sort of use magic on it I’m just getting faster then I was before, I actually managed to remotely access a computer with it the other day. If I can really work it out digitising the rest of the library shouldn’t take ten years. Maybe like eight, five if we’re really lucky.” Winston smiled contentedly at Rio’s raised hand and their own. “That night was … the luckiest of my life, you know the night before that I’d woken up in an abandoned mansion out in the middle of nowhere with someone who claimed to be an aura reader, turned out I’d sleep walked and stole a bunch of leprechaun gold too. That night was much less fun then waking up to you.” 
Orion attempted a stern look at Winston, but was still laughing “Ha ha. Very funny! I basically came into ownership of the place. Sorta. Kinda. Unofficially. But there’s no one to tell me I don’t have the authority either so…” Orion shrugged, letting the sentence finish itself. “Yeah it’s uh… pretty wild stuff, right? But you definitely found a way to make it sound even more insane so good job there.” Rio gave a small, celebratory clap for them as if actually congratulating them for something. “Oh no worries I don’t exp-” Rio paused, realizing what Winston had just said. A giant grin widened across Rio’s face and began bouncing up and down again. “Oh my god! You did? That’s so exciting! Holy crap!” Rio’s ribs really hate him right about now, but they could shove it. This was way more important than that. “That’s incredible. And sounds like a lot of work. And obviously I don’t expect you to devote all your time to it. I can’t pay you or anything so it’s more of a hobby than anything else.” Despite the new job and how busy Winston must have been, they were still planning on taking time to help Rio with this stupid passionate project. Could they get anymore incredible? Probably. “You- I’m sorry what?” Rio laughed again, processing all of Winston’s story about the sleep walking. “I can’t believe I’ve never heard that story before. An Aura Reader? Were they being legit? If so.. That’s super cool.” But it was so heartwarming to hear that Rio wasn’t the only one that found that night so special. Even if it was more or less a complete disaster. “I… was a complete wreck. That entire night. You were so cool when we met at Skylar’s… and without her as a buffer I barely knew how to even talk to you. And then building was still a pitch black nightmare too. It was… well I appreciate all you’ve done. For that place and me.”
“We spend so much time in that place and I always forget that you didn’t find it while sleep walking. It’s really amazing if you think about it, how many people are in the situation that we are and are able to find magic library that has the answers to most of our questions about the supernatural?” Winston smirked to themselves for a moment before grinning. “Yeah, I did, I didn’t really want to make a big deal about the new job with everything going on, it didn’t feel that important. But this has been, well this is the first step of really living out what my dream as a kid was and honestly now that I’ve started I’m not going to stop or anything, but I think I could probably do more good helping you as well, that way I can help normal people who don’t know about everything that is going on and I can help us with all of the bullshit that White Crest throws our way.” Winston frowned gently and shrugged. “I don’t know if they were bullshitting me or not, but they knew I was a spellcaster back when I barely knew what being one of those was and was incredibly far from competent at it, so I think there must at least be some truth there.” Raising an eyebrow, Winston laughed. “Honestly, don’t thank me too much, I didn’t enjoy reading all of those dusty books by torchlight.” Winston was obviously joking, but the way Rio put it made them sound like they had done it because they were a saint. It hadn’t been that. Rio had just made them want to help, they wouldn’t have had it any other way.
“Yeah, me too sometimes. But I know. It’s just luck that I know about it, honestly.” Honestly, Orion didn’t think about his uncle much anymore. Way less than he used to. He hadn’t seen the man in so long so that it was getting harder and harder to remember a lot of things about it. Rio wasn’t sure if he’d ever even see the man again, but he has the Scribe building at least. Those memories were safe. “It is absolutely important and a big deal! I’m so proud of you! That’s incredible.” Winston was getting everything they deserved. Rio squeezed Winston’s hand a bit tighter and finished off his shake.  Rio wished he had saved it for the movie, but he had always had a bad habit of eating and drinking way too quickly. “I’m going to continue shamelessly thanking you nonstop. You can’t stop me. Plus, I can’t believe you didn’t like that super dark mood lighting?” He broke the grasp for a minute to reach behind into the back and grab a soda from the cooler. Once he popped the top open and took a long drink, he reunited his hand with theirs. “I guarantee whatever movie plays is super old and bad, fair warning. But totally worth it.”
“Well, however we want to call it, luck, fate or even divine intervention, it doesn’t really matter because it got me to meet you and I wouldn’t have had it any otherway.” Winston flashed Rio a bright smile before shrugging. “I know, but when I brought someone back from the dead, stopped the world from ending because it was eaten by a giant squid and also have been working 24/7 since mid-march, well the promotion just didn’t really feel like a priority. I haven’t told many people but the new jobs really good. It’s finally something I can help with.” The movie was starting in the background and Winston wasn’t really sure what the protocol for watching a movie on a date actually were. Was there an expectation to kiss? Did they talk all the way through it? Winston didn’t recognise the romcom that was playing in the background but it didn’t really matter when they were here with Rio. They were holding hands and for now that was enough for Winston, adjusting their position so they were more comfortable, Winston did their best to slip closer to Rio. 
Orion didn’t believe in divine intervention, but he knew that Winston meant it as more of a joke anyways. The smile was proof enough, besides just being dreamy. Rio cursed himself for even thinking the word dreamy. “Okay well… you had a busy month. So that’s fair. But I want to be able to celebrate these little victories too. We spend so much time freaking out about the literal apocalypse I want to be able to enjoy the small things with people. Especially with you.” Rio couldn’t stop grinning. Everything Winston said just made him so happy, because he could tell how proud they were. Even if they were trying to remain casual about their accomplishments. “You deserved this and you’re going to do so much good now. On both sides.” Was Rio crazy, or had was Winston closer? The thought both excited and frightened him. But he wanted to be closer. Rio didn’t have any expectations for the night. For the first time, Rio was perfectly fine with not having everything planned ahead. He didn’t need to know what was going to happen. He just wanted to spend time with Winston. “I haven’t seen this one before,” Rio whispered. Overlook was known for playing the same movie multiple times, so it was a relief. Lots of first times tonight for Rio.
“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Winston replied with a smile. Everything in that moment was special. The feel of Rio’s fingers in between their own, the way they almost seemed to fit together like they had been made for one another, it was like they were the perfect size. Perfectly interlinking. Locking together firmly. Rio’s hand was warm against Winston’s skin and as the movie began rolling Winston couldn’t help but float there. Not literally of course. But it might as well have been. “Me neither,” Winston whispered in reply, turning their head, they gazed at Rio for a moment taking a long breath before leaning forward and kissing him. Honestly. Was it the right moment? Winston wasn’t sure. But they couldn’t help themselves. Rio was…. Something else entirely.
Orion was surprised by the kiss. Not so much that Winston had done it, but more by how it had felt. The two had already kissed before, one that had been fueled by alcohol and the general mood surrounding the party they had attended. It had been passionate and fiery. But this one felt different… better. There was deliberate care, a spark that Rio thought only existed in media portrayals of what a first kiss should feel like. It had been a light kiss, but its impact was far greater than that. And Rio couldn’t help but feel like he was some high schooler in a coming of age drama, experiencing a once in a lifetime feeling. Up to this point, Rio and Winston had talked things out and held hands. This was incredible. When the two broke away from the kiss, Rio exhaled a deep breath, not realizing how long he had been holding it in the first place. He paused for a long time, before finally smiling and breathing out words. “Damn.” His breath caught mid laugh, cutting himself short. But as soon as he could breathe again, he leaned back in for more. 
This was really beyond Winston’s experience. Kissing people had always seemed like a bizarre fantasy that other people would probably achieve long before Winston would even get close to it. They weren’t a nun or anything but actually having success in a romantic context was somewhat beyond their comprehension. Swallowing, Winston kissed Rio again, and again. It set their stomach into a whirlwind of butterflies that spun up a cyclone in their stomach and yet Winston didn’t care. They forgot all about everything. About all the trouble that they’d been in and about all of the trouble they would probably find themselves in. For the first time in six months Winston was entirely occupied by one thing and one person and it was a luxury that they never considered they would experience again. “Damn.” They replied, when everything was over and they had pulled away from the kiss. 
Orion lost track of time. He didn’t care how much time had passed. For all he knew, the movie could have ended and the place was an empty lot by now. All he cared about was Winston right now. Kissing them until one of them had to break to breathe. Rio didn’t know if he was doing it right or wrong, but he knew that Winston was absolutely doing it right. Once it was all over, Rio sat back against the seat, left hand still entangled with Winston’s. “I can’t believe I just said damn” was all Rio could really think to mention. As if that had any pertinence to what had just happened. Everything else just seemed too surreal. He couldn’t find the words to say to capture how he felt about how he felt about them. “Turns out I think I really like this movie? Good memories.” He was still breathing heavily, but his face was flushed and a grin surrounded his face that Rio wasn’t sure would ever go away. “It’s hot in here. I’m gonna grab another drink. And snacks. You want anything?” Rio asked before letting go of Winston’s hand to crawl into the back and secure food for round 2. If there was a round 2 tonight. Rio was in no rush.
The rest of the evening was cute. Winston couldn’t help but remember it fondly from that point onwards. They held hands, kissed, hugged or was cuddled the more appropriate word? Either way. They ate snacks, they laughed, they watched a bad romantic comedy. It couldn’t have been more perfect if Winston had planned it that way and as they drove back, Winston was almost sorry that the night was over. Not that they had to leave Rio’s side, of course that was a nice added bonus. 
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vespertine-legacy · 4 years ago
Link
Sorry for re-posting this (not sorry, didn’t hurt enough of you the first time around), but I decided I wanted to put up my track list explanations.
I know I originally said I wasn’t going to share who I had assigned to each track and just leave it open to interpretation, but then I decided, fuck that, so here you go. It’s divided up by class because that made it easier for me to make sure I got everyone, but that’s not the order the tracks are in on the playlist, so sorry for that... POTENTIAL SPOILERS for ALL CLASS ROMANCES. Track explanations have snippets from the letters the PC receives from each romanced companion for all classes and Theron (and some of them fucking hurt).
(Here’s hoping the formatting doesn’t fuck up too bad...)
I’d love to hear your opinions on it (beyond “hey, fuck you,” though I do welcome those reactions too)!
The Night We Met - Lord Huron [Theron Shan]
[The thing that keeps me going is the knowledge that you’re out there. … I haven’t forgotten about you or our time together. I never will.]
I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Take me back to the night we met
--
[Sith Warrior]
Need - Hana Pestle [Vette]
[They say powerful Sith can come back from the dead and appear to the people they had strong connections to when they were alive. Will I wake up one day and see you? Will you finally tell me what happened? Will I know if you had the time to think about me before you died?]
My hand searches for your hand In a dark room I can't find you Help me Are you looking for me? Can I feel anymore? Lie to me, I'm fading I can't drop you Tell me I don't need you
The Other Side - Ruelle [Malavai Quinn]
[The Empire needs you. More than that--I need you. … I should have come with you aboard Darth Marr’s ship--stood in my rightful place by your side. … Now I’m faced with the possibility of never seeing you again… and it makes me ill. I cannot accept it. … No matter what anyone says--I know you’re alive, and I will find you. Even if it kills me.]
We are buried in broken dreams We are knee deep without a plea I don't want to know what it's like To live without you Don't want to know the other side Of a world without you Is it fair, or is it fate? No one knows The stars choose their lovers Save my soul It hurts just the same
Gone - Olivia Broadfield [DS!Jaesa Willsaam]
[You were always going to leave me. I knew that. … I’m more powerful than ever, and I don’t fear death. … Why should I cry that you’re gone? Why write words to a dead man? Why?]
And I finally found That I found my voice And I'm saying all these things Just because I've got the choice And it's gone
--
[Sith Inquisitor]
Stars - Grace Potter & The Nocturnals [Andronikos Revel]
[All I wanted was to fly free, no attachments. But what we have together--I wouldn’t give that up for anything. I know you’re alive. It would take more than an explosion to kill my girl. Even a really big one. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll commandeer a shuttle to find you myself.]
I can't look at the stars They make me wonder where you are Stars Up on heaven's boulevard And if I know you at all I know you've gone too far So I can't look at the stars
Grow - Rae Morris [Ashara Zavros]
[What does it mean, that you could die and leave no trace? … The Sith and Jedi are helpless against this enemy. I’ve left them all behind. I never belonged to those failed orders, no more than you did. We were always something special. Now it’s just me. Something is drawing me to the darkness beyond the edge of Wild Space. Maybe there will be answers waiting for me. Maybe I won’t be alone anymore. I wish you were going with me.]
Caught beaten by the edge Of the weight of the world Long live this pain Long live this feeling | Blind and childish I won't fight it Here I hide Underneath my innocence (Grow, Grow)
--
[Imperial Agent]
Already Gone - Sleeping At Last [Kaliyo Djannis]
[Truth is, I’m grateful. Obviously, I was getting soft. Won’t happen again. Just remember--I was the best thing that ever happened to you.]
I didn't come here to hurt you now I can't stop I want you to know That it doesn't matter Where we take this road But someone's gotta go And I want you to know You couldn't have loved me better But I want you to move on So I'm already gone
Saturn - Sleeping At Last [Vector Hyllus]
[The Song of the Universe crescendoed--its vibrations overtook the stars, then...silence. Your aura, normally so bright, dimmed, and the vessel we have made our home grew cold. … We do not know what we will be like without you. We do not want to know. Please come home.]
I'd give anything to hear You say it one more time That the universe was made Just to be seen by my eyes With shortness of breath, I'll explain the infinite How rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist
Scared - Delta Rae [Raina Temple]
[I thought about reaching out to Lana Beniko, but I can’t risk the Sith finding out about me. Especially not now, when I have no protection. … I should forget about you. But I can’t do that. I’m not ready for a life without you. … Please come back to me.]
Baby, can you keep your promise? Baby, can I keep you honest? 'Cause I'm scared There's nothing in the sky above me There's nothing strung below us, baby, if we fall We're caught between a spark and lightning We're caught between forever and nothing at all And I'm sorry, I love you
--
[Bounty Hunter]
Over - Johnnyswim [Mako]
[Not sure why I’m even writing this. Closure? Just to say “I told you so”? It doesn’t matter. The galaxy’s falling apart, and I don’t need a front-row seat. I’m done with the business. All it’s ever done is take away the people I cared about.]
So wake me up the dream I had is over We were so young and now we’re getting older And I can’t keep on giving you what might be meant for someone new Wake me up the dream I had is over
Who We Are - Tristan Prettyman [Torian Cadera]
[Sometimes, we only get a single battle. You and I had a few years. … You honored me. You saved my life. You loved me better than anyone ever has. I’ll repay those debts. I’ll carry your memory with me on every hunt I take until the day I die. … Ret’urcye mhi doesn’t mean “goodbye”--it means “maybe we’ll see each other again.” If there’s another life beyond this one, I hope we do.]
I will never love another like you So give me all your secrets Your fear and doubts, honey you don't need them I will never find another like you
--
[Jedi Knight]
Hands - Emily Jane White [Kira Carsen]
[Sometimes I dream that you’re standing in my doorway, but you’re not you anymore. You’re him. Everything’s gone wrong since you left. … You have to come back.]
You caught my bad dream A deathly guise took you by night And those hands turned the tide You were harmed by unsaintly arms We will take you in our arms This ain't no dream
Revelry - The Careful Ones [“Doc” Archiban Kimble]
[You’ve survived worse disasters without breaking a sweat. … I had to learn a lot of math in medical school, and I’ve run the numbers. You’ve gotta be alive. … enough’s enough. … You’ve been gone too long.]
Picture perfect home or no, so I was told It was meant to be no other way Pain it came and fell on me Damn, you put that spell on me That my mind could never erase
--
[Jedi Consular]
Pain Told Love - Tribe Society, Kiesza [Felix Iresso]
[I spent a lifetime trying to find you. If I have to, I’ll spend another waiting for you to come back. That’s what love is.]
No one knows you quite like me Pain comes and you find a way to build your world around it And when it hurts get inside the pain and wrap your arms around it I heard pain tell love, she said "where would I be without you?" So love I better find a way to build my world around you
Find You - Ruelle [Nadia Grell]
[I will rally these old friends and lead them to wherever you are. We will brave the dangers that await, my love. Stay strong. We will come.]
Just hold on It won't be long I will find you here inside the dark I will break through No matter where you are I will find you
--
[Smuggler]
The Place I Left Behind - The Deep Dark Woods [Corso Riggs]
[Go to Port Nowhere and send me the signal. I’ll come running. … Come home. I love you.]
I've got the ramblin' fever down in my bones And everywhere that I wanna go The only place that I ever loved Is a place I left behind
I Don’t Believe In Us (Acoustic) - Overcoats [Risha Drayen]
[I didn’t give up on you until today. I searched all over Wild Space, even after Corso said it was time to face the truth. … I’m the one who was supposed to leave when things got bad. Damn you for getting the last laugh, just like always.]
Please understand me, I can't live like this anymore I used to love the sound of it, but what is it we're fighting for I drift in and out of seeing us for who we are Get glimpses of what we're doing here and I don't buy it anymore | I love you, I love you, but all dreams must come to an end
Hold On - Brooke Annibale [Akaavi Spar]
[I’m still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal.]
We put our flame upon ice Watch it burn out All I want to do Feel the ache in my hands to hold on to you
--
[Republic Trooper]
The Last Time - Taylor Swift, Gary Lightbody [Aric Jorgan]
[We’ve been fighting these things for two months now. … Getting real tired of it. Might not be so bad if I just had my wife here with me like I’m used to. I know you’re still out there. No way you’re dead. Two months is long enough. Please come back to us.]
I'm not sure how I got there All roads, they lead me here I imagine you are home In your room, all alone And you open your eyes into mine And everything feels better
From the Wreckage Build a Home - The Wind and the Wave [Elara Dorne]
[We first met on a search and rescue mission. I suppose it’s only fitting we reunite the same way. Yours, always.]
We're built to last Well now it's clear you're the wind and I'm the wave Oh together we can brave all the things we never knew | If our ship does sink we will follow it like stones From the wreckage build a home
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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years ago
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Do you have a pair of Beat headphones? Yeah, I have the wireless black ones.
How was your week? Ugh, I’ve had a bad pain flareup this week. 
Are any of your electronics not working properly at the moment? My phone has been acting up for the past month. It starts to get warm pretty fast when I’m on YouTube, which crashes a lot for me lately despite my phone and app being up to date on the updates. The battery has been dying a lot faster. It’s also been laggy. I have the iPhone XR, which is considered old now. It was working perfectly fine up until the past month, though.
Are you excited to pick out your wedding dress one day? I don’t plan on getting married.
When was the last time you felt relieved? Hm. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that.
Does it bother you when an artist remakes a song that one has previously done? No, I wouldn’t say that. Some covers and remixes are good.
What brand of chapstick do you use? EOS or Vaseline. 
Do you really think someone could be perfect? Nope.
When was the last time you cried? Yesterday.
What’s a food that you like every once in awhile but not often? I’m not as into Mexican food as I once was, but I still like to have it now and then. 
What letter is the song you’re listening to under? I’m not listening to music right now. If I’m doing a survey, just assume I’m listening to an ASMR video.
Would you rather visit the 60s or 70s? I guess the 70s.
Are you the type of person that enjoys getting hugs? From certain people. 
Do your socks say anything on them? They say, “Adidas.”
Name a TV channel that only has three letters in it. MTV.
Have you found out who your true friends are? I don’t have any friends.
Gray or Grey? Gray is the American spelling, but I honestly prefer “grey.”
Will you be buying concert tickets any time soon? No. Who knows when I’ll attend a concert again. It’s been over 10 years since my last concert, so I can’t even blame covid. I hope to attend one again, though. I miss ‘em.
Have you seen the movie The Perks of Being a Wallflower? Did you like it? Yeah, I liked it.
Is there something you’d fall apart if you didn’t have? My loved ones.
How many weddings have you been to? Three.
When you smile, are you confident? No. 
Have you ever not done something because you were afraid of getting in trouble? Yesss, all the time. I’ve always been all about following the rules and I’ve never seen the appeal in breaking them. That makes me sound boring but at least I’ve never gotten in serious trouble lol. <<<
Was the weather beautiful today? I’m really upset that we’re having 90 F still when it’s OCTOBER. Summer just won’t go away. D:
Do you have to have a fan on when you sleep? Yep. During the summer months and even still cause California summers are miserably long, I have 3 fans going at all times. When it finally cools down I can go down to one. We’ve had some especially cold winters (for us) some years and during those I didn’t need any fans.  Would you rather have an orange, red or gray bedroom? I guess out of those I’d choose gray. I’d really not have any of those, though.
Would you ever dye part of your hair blue? Nah.
Have you ever gone to a private school? Yes. Is Finding Nemo a favorite movie of yours? No, but I do like it.
Does/Did your school have a uniform? My preschool did.
Turn on the TV. What channel are you on? It’s on TV Land currently. The Golden Girls is on.
Does your house have security cameras? Yes.
Does a popsicle sound good right now? No. I don’t care much for popsicles. I’m not even a big ice cream person in general, but if I wanted something like that I’d go for ice cream over a popsicle.
What’s your favorite exercise workout? I don’t workout.
What’s your favorite thing to do? I like to do my Bible studies, spend time with family, check my social medias (TikTok, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat), watch YouTube videos, watch TV, scroll through Tumblr, do surveys, read, play Animal Crossing: New Horizons, drink coffee, sleep... there’s other things, but those are things I do on a normal, everyday basis.
What did you do for your 17th birthday? Wow, I really don’t recall. Probably just something small with the fam.
Does your local Walmart have benches in them to rest? Yeah.
Was your favorite stuffed animal really a teddy bear growing up? No. I had a lot of stuffed animals as a kid, but I didn’t really have a particular favorite. Now, as a full grown adult, I have a shitload of giraffe stuffed animals and a few others and I love ‘em all.
If your house was haunted, what would you do? If it was like legit crazy weird stuff happening like the movies then we’d be moving asap lol. It wouldn’t be like every movie where somebody is like, “oh it’s fine, we’re not going anywhere” but things were definitely not fine.
Are you good at swimming? No, I can’t swim. If I actually go swimming, which is not something I care to do and it’s been almost 10 years now since the last time, I have to use a inner tube and I stay close to the edges, not venturing very far away at all. When I was a kid I had those little plastic or inflatable pools that didn’t fill up very high so I was okay in those and actually enjoyed it.
What’s worse: Slow internet or slow walkers? Slow internet drives me insane. People walking slowly in front of me is quite annoying, though, especially as someone in a wheelchair. Especially people who abruptly stop in front of me. 
What is the rudest thing a guy has ever done to you? Play and use me. 
Do you sleep with the sheets tucked in or out? Well, my bed always stays made. I sleep and sit on top and just use a throw blanket that I keep to the side.
What do you do to fall asleep faster? ASMR videos can help me get sleepy, but I can’t really do anything to fall asleep faster. It happens when it happens.
Do you carry a bottle of water wherever you go? No. I always have a bottle(s) nearby on my bedside table, though.
Are you afraid that one day you might get cancer? It is a fear of mine.
Are you a fast or slow walker? I don’t feel I wheel fast normally, but I guess compared to the average walking speed it might be considered fast. 
Do you usually have to wear a belt with your pants? I never wear a belt.
Does it bother you when people’s underwear hangs out? It’s awkward for me cause I’m often at the level of most people’s behinds in my wheelchair.
Are you usually the person to try new things with your hair? No. 
When’s your birthday? July 28th.
What age do you look forward to reaching? I’m 31 now, there aren’t anymore exciting milestones. Not to me, anyway.
Name a state that begins with the letter M. Massachusetts. 
What’s the first thing you do after a car accident? I’ve never been in one, thankfully.
What do you use to get rid of bad breath? Brush my teeth.
What exercise do you hate the most? I don’t exercise.
What do you do at a party? I haven’t been to a party in years, and didn’t go to many anyway, but I was always one who clung to the people I knew and was closest to and just chilled and snacked haha. The parties I went to were more lowkey and chill, though. Never anything wild or crazy. My family get togethers were often quite big, but I was more comfortable at those. Although, even then I stuck by my mom and the cousins I was close to haha. That’s just how I am.
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calligraphist-artemisia · 5 years ago
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Quid Pro Quo
Summary: While everyone's healing after their first fight against Haggar's super powered Mech, Coran brings up the perfect way for them to relax and pass the time: a fun game of Monsters & Mana! While Shiro argues the value of (once again) playing a paladin, Keith goes for a more unexpected role.
Also posted on Archive of our Own - under the username Kishirokitsune
-
Quid Pro Quo
Quid pro quo - a favor or advantage granted or expected in return for something.
The aftermath of their battle against the Komar Mech found the paladins of Voltron in a rough state. While the lions protected them from harm to the best of their ability, there were still injuries and each of them had spent two long weeks confined to their beds in the med-bay so they would have proper time to heal from their ordeal. And even after that, they were released under the condition that they take it easy for another week.
After being active for so long, it was hard for any of them to patiently sit around and do nothing, especially when there was so much that needed done.
It was Coran who came up with a solution to their boredom.
He rounded up everyone and giddily took them down to the common room, where he had commandeered a round table for their use. There was a hand-drawn, gridded map spread across the surface, a handful of dice, and a set of five familiar figures.
“You save the game pieces?” Lance asked, sounding delighted. He swooped in and picked up the model of Pike, cradling it in his hands.
Allura smiled as she stepped up next to him, reaching for Valayun. “This is brilliant, Coran! But are you sure you have time for this? You and Shiro are perfectly able to go out and help with reconstruction.”
“Sam said that if he sees me working for the next twenty-four hours he's going to tie me down and make sure I get some rest,” Shiro said. “This sounds like the better choice.”
Pidge snorted in amusement, but didn't comment on it. She looked delighted to hold her figure of Meklavar once again.
Only Hunk looked a little concern, though it was quickly revealed that it wasn't over the game itself. “But Keith didn't play with us last time and he doesn't have a model.”
Coran twirled his mustache, a twinkle in his blue eyes. “Don't you worry about that, my young friend! I found a machine here that prints models in 3D and have already made new ones for our adventure today. They will all be revealed when the time is right. Now sit! And we shall resume our journey through the magical realm of Aurita!”
It didn't take them too long to get settled in around the table. Coran chose a spot at the top of the map, with Keith and Shiro to his left and right. Pidge was on the other side of Keith, followed by Hunk, then Lance, and finally Allura, bringing the circle back to Shiro. Each of them picked up a game pad and found their character, reviewing theirs stats and refreshing their memory of how the game worked.
“Before we begin, does anyone want to create a new character?” Coran asked, looking pointedly at Shiro.
Shiro crossed his arms over his chest. “I'm happy playing as Gyro. I don't see what I'd want to change characters.”
The other paladins – minus Keith – groaned in exasperation.
Coran hummed as he booted up his game pad. “I thought you might want a backup in case anything...unfortunate should happen?”
There was a moment of silence in which Keith looked up from his game pad to raise an eyebrow. When no one chose to elaborate on that, he went back to creating his own character, wondering what he'd gotten himself into.
“Coran, is something going to happen to Gyro?” Shiro asked.
“Only the dice know,” Coran replied mysteriously.
Shiro sighed as he selected the character creation screen. “I don't understand what you have against me playing as a paladin. I like being a paladin.”
“Can we make a rule that he can't make another one?” Lance asked.
“Now, now, far be it for me to stymie Shiro's creativity. If he wants to rewrite his backstory so that there is a third brother, then that's up to him,” Coran said. “Let's see... we've had Shiro and Gyro. What shall be the third brother's name? Hiro?”
“I hate all of you except for Keith,” Shiro said, prodding at his screen.
Coran gave them all a few more minutes while he searched for the storyline he wanted to use. It was bound to be a fun one, especially after his talk with Keith the day before. He had been sure that the others would be interested in another quest, but Keith hadn't been part of the original game and he wanted to include the current Black Paladin in their fun.
As it turned out, Keith had an interesting idea, and Coran had the perfect plot to go along with it.
He glanced up, smiling softly as he watched Allura lean over to Lance to ask him about something. Hunk appeared to be mumbling spells under his breath and then checking his game pad to make sure he got them right. Keith had his pad turned so Pidge couldn't sneak a peak at what he was doing, no matter how hard she tried.
It warmed Coran's heart to see them all having fun after everything they had been through.
He cleared his throat to get their attention and begin the game. “Tales of your miraculous defeat of the mighty and powerful wizard known as Dakin have spread far and wide across Aurita. Townspeople rejoice wherever you go and you no longer want for food and drink. Today we begin in the wilds of the Mysterious Forest, on a quest for a king of a distant land. It appears his daughter, Princess Mora, has been kidnapped and it is up to you all to save her!”
“A princess?” Lance's eyes lit up.
Hunk groaned. “Oh no... Coran, does it have to be a princess?”
“Yeah, can't we rescue a handsome prince instead? It doesn't always have to be a damsel in distress,” Pidge complained.
“But rescuing a princess is a staple of all classic stories! C'mon, guys, don't take this from me!” Lance begged.
Allura rolled her eyes.
Coran looked at them peevishly for interrupting his storytelling. “Are you going to let me continue, or would you like to run this campaign on your own?”
No one spoke again.
“As I was saying...”
-
If not for the haunting sounds of wildlife, the Mysterious Forest would be a beautiful place to explore. Trees towered overhead, their branches reaching out to cast shade over the ground, while still allowing in enough light for the underbrush to thrive. A single main path, comprised of dirt compacted under heavy travel, wound through the forest.
A sheer mountainside rose to the right of the path. It looked as though the rock had been carved away some time ago, though by what, no one knew.
Valayun led the way down the path, her bow knocked in preparation for trouble. She had heard tales of bandits and thieves who lurked within the woods and knew it was best to be ready to anything. Her blue eyes wearily scanned the underbrush, watching out for any movement.
Behind her was Pike and Block, who quietly talked to pass the time. Pike was particularly excited about their current quest to find a kidnapped princess, and was disappointed that no one else seemed to share his enthusiasm.
Meklavar traveled behind them, her ax at the ready. Her stonesense screamed that something wasn't right, and she was easily the jumpiest of the party.
Bringing up the rear was Gyro, who looked around with a sense of wide-eyed wonder at the beauty of the wilderness around them. He was particularly taken with the brightly colored flora and the pleasant smells they emitted. He felt like nothing could possibly go wrong. After all, the weather was pleasant and their quest had only just begun!
What could possibly go wrong?
-
“Shiro, roll for perception,” Coran instructed.
Shiro frowned. “I thought I already did that.”
“You did. Now I need you to roll a second time,” Coran said.
Everyone leaned forward to watch Shiro roll the die, eager to see what it would stop on. There was a collective groan when it tipped over one final time to end on “two”.
“Tough luck, Shiro,” Keith said sympathetically.
Coran's delight was obvious to everyone and he toned down his cackle to a snicker, hiding his face behind his game pad. “Suddenly, there is a loud crashing sound from the cliffside! Something has knocked into the precariously perched boulders up at the top, jarring them loose. They fall, picking up speed as they go, and while they make a great deal of noise, Gyro is too busy admiring the flowers to pay attention. Will anyone warn our poor paladin of the danger he faces?”
“How do you not hear a landslide?” Pidge asked with a shake of her head. “Nevermind. I'm the closest to him, so I shout out to try and warn him.”
“Shiro, another roll, if you will?”
Shiro sighed and rolled again, not at all surprised to see another roll number. Even the dice gods were working against him. “Am I dead?”
“Oh, I'm afraid so. You hear Meklavar's warning, but aren't able to move in time and are crushed by a landslide,” Coran rattles off as though commenting on the weather.
Shiro gave the Altean a petulant look as he sent over the data for his new character without being asked.
Keith watched the exchange with a furrowed brow. “Should I make a second character now, or...”
“You don't need to. Shiro just has really bad luck,” Pidge reassured him.
Coran took a moment to scan through the new data before jumping back in. “Our heroes take a few hours to mourn their fallen friend and construct a small monument in his honor.”
-
The loss of Gyro the Paladin dampened even Pike's spirits. The four heroes continued on their way, searching for the entrance to the caves where it was rumored that Princess Mora was being held.
“Does anyone else think it's weird that we haven't seen any bandits yet? You'd think they would at least have traps laid for us,” Meklavar said.
“Are you trying to jinx us?” Pike demanded. His eyes scanned the foliage critically, as though he expected something to immediately jump out and attack them.
Valayun uneasily slowed, closing the distance between her and Pike by a few paces. “Maybe we've gone the wrong way?”
“Can't be. This is the only path,” Block said. “Unless they didn't take the path?”
Meklavar shook her head. “No, you're right. They must have taken the path, especially since they have a captive with them. We would be able to see if they went another way, wouldn't we? There would be broken branches and stuff.”
They looked to Valayun in the hope that she had some skill in tracking, but she was just as confused as the rest of them.
The four of them stopped walking as a debate broke out over whether they should keep going or if it was best to go back and look for tracks. Pike and Valayun were for staying on the path, while Block and Meklavar wanted to go back.
And that was when things went from bad, to worse.
A howl pierced the air just before a massive wolf sprang out of the underbrush, taking all of them off guard. It used its advantage to pin Meklavar to the ground and opened its mouth to reveal a row of sharp, white teeth.
Meklavar closed her eyes, praying that someone would save her, or else that death would be swift and painless.
-
Pidge laughed as Kosmo licked across her cheek before he lowered his paws and padded over to the do the same to Keith.
“It's nice to see you too,” Keith said with a chuckle. He patted the cosmic wolf on the head, and once Kosmo was satisfied with the attention he received, he crawled under the table to take a nap near his favorite people.
“A new encounter has begun and it's time to figure out attacking order! Everyone, go ahead and roll your dice,” Coran instructed. “And just for fun... Shiro and Keith, the two of you can roll as well.”
Shiro trepidatiously reached for his die.
-
The sparkling light of Block's magic formed a barrier between Meklavar and certain death, which gave Valayun the opportunity to lay into the beast with her arrows. It reared back, releasing Meklavar from its grasp, and that was when Pike rushed in to pull her to safety.
“Are you alright?” Block shouted as he began charging up his next spell.
“I'm okay!” Meklavar quickly called back. She took a moment to reorient herself and then unhooked her ax so she could jump into the fight.
Arrows flew and spells were slung. A gleaming ax swung against the side of the beast. Pike's sharp blades danced as he flitted about.
None of it appeared to do more than anger the wolf.
“Should we run?” Block asked.
“Do you really think we can outrun that?” Pike asked in disbelief.
Block ducked behind a tree for a little extra cover. “Maybe if Valayun summons one of her magical steeds and I enchant my staff to fly, we might stand a chance at getting away.”
“And what would that solve?” Meklavar demanded. “We run and leave the princess with those bandits? Even if we get away, we still need to come back this way and there's no guarantee that this creature will be gone.”
“Meklavar is right. We have to deal with this now,” Valayun agreed.
Pike loudly shrieked as he barely dodged a swipe from one massive paw. His voice went high as he asked: “Does anyone have a plan for that?!”
Meklavar thought for a moment. “Maybe if we all attack it at once and hit it from different angles. That might confuse it enough that it won't know who to go after.”
“It's worth a try,” Valayun said. She selected a summoning arrow and fired it into the air. A moment later, a flying horse swooped down and allowed Valayun onto their back. She took to the skies to distract the beast, giving her allies enough time to get into place.
And then their assault began anew.
The beast snarled in rage. Just as they had hoped, it didn't know who to go after first. It turned to look at each of them, but each time it tried to attack, someone would hit it from another angle.
A horn trumpeted.
From within the forest, a man with dark hair came riding in on a magnificent black steed. He lifted his sword high and joined the battle.
The beast didn't last long after that, and as it lay dying on the forest floor, the adventurers approached the newcomer. One-by-one, they introduced themselves, until all that was left was for the stranger to speak his name.
“I am but a simple ranger, traveling with my fearless companion,” he said, fondly patting his horse's neck. “My name is Paladin.”
-
In that moment, anyone in or near the common room was treated to the sound of the Paladins of Voltron losing their minds over a single sentence, while Shiro sat back and looked very pleased with himself. Coran was laughing so hard that he was crying.
Once Coran calmed enough that he could speak clearly, he wiped away his tears and coaxed them back into playing their game.
With the addition of Shiro's ranger, they discovered that they had missed a second path and it was only thanks to his tracking skill that they were able to find it. The new path was a shortcut, leading directly to the caves, while the main path would have eventually branched out, with one trail leading up to the top of the mountain and the other leading out of the forest. Coran was the only one disappointed that they no longer needed to fight their way down through the mountain.
They charged ahead into the caves with their spirits renewed, and Lance happily showed off that Pike held torches in his inventory, after buying them during his and Shiro's mini-session with Coran.
“So is Keith actually playing, or is he just here to watch?” Lance asked as he rolled to dismantle a trap that Hunk nearly triggered.
“I've been playing!” Keith protested. “You've seen me roll!”
“Oh yeah? Then where's your character?” Lance challenged with the air of someone who knew they had already won.
Coran stepped in before things could escalate to shouting. “Keith and I discussed his role before we began, and I have sent him messages to determine where he currently is and what he's doing. Be patient; he'll join you soon.”
“I didn't know these things could send messages,” Pidge said, looking at her game pad with renewed interest.
“My bandmates and I always used them to enrich our experience with the game. Not only can it be used to send messages between the Lore Master and one of the players, players can also send group messages. Depending on the race you've picked, you can choose to send messages in that language, and it will only translate for anyone who has knowledge of that language,” Coran said. “Though it's more like gibberish than an actual language. Now, where were we? Ah, yes...”
-
The team of eager adventurers continued on their way, dismantling traps and using their wide range of skills to avoid trouble. They only got lost once and that was when they encountered a small party of bandits, who kept dropping their weapons and were incompetent in general.
Pike pilfered anything useful before they moved on.
“This is way less interesting than Dakin's lair,” Meklavar said, sounding disappointed. “Where's all of the treasure? The interesting weaponry?”
“Well that's why they kidnapped the princess, isn't it? They're holding her for ransom so that then they'll have treasures,” Block suggested.
“I don't know why you keep saying things like that when you know it's just going to bring us more trouble.” Pike directed his words to Meklavar, who ignored him. “Besides, just because you haven't found anything, doesn't mean there's nothing here.” He grinned and jingled his coin purse in front of her face.
Paladin frowned at the blatant theivery that was being flaunted in front of him. There was no point in saying anything. Pike had only laughed the first time he scolded him for it.
“Meklavar, can you read anything with your stonesense?” Valayun asked.
Meklavar placed her hand on the wall and frowned. “There is... something. I can feel it more strongly now. I think there's another dwarf here!”
“That's good, right?” Valayun asked.
Meklavar shrugged. “Not if they're one of the bandits. Then we might be in trouble, since they'll be able to tell we're coming.”
“I don't like this,” Block said nervously.
“All we can do is keep moving forward. If we stop to worry about what could be, we'll be here all day,” Paladin said. He took the lead down the hall, not waiting for anyone to respond, and the others hurried to fall in line behind him.
They all kept their weapons drawn. There was every chance that they were walking deeper into an ambush and none of them wanted to be caught unaware.
Every now and then, Meklavar reached out to touch the stone walls, trying to get a feel for what was going on. Just before a turn, she hissed out “wait!”
Paladin brought up his sword in time to block a strike from another blade. The clang of steel-on-steel rang out in the tunnel, impossibly loud. Paladin grit his teeth and bore down, refusing to let the assailant take an inch.
“Who are you? What are you doing in this place?” demanded the stranger.
“We're here to beat you and rescue the princess!” Pike exclaimed from the back of their line.
The stranger frowned. “They kidnapped someone else as well?”
Paladin let up a little, puzzled by that statement. “What do you mean 'someone else'? We only know about Princess Mora.”
There was something very strange going on, but no one could feel that more than Meklavar. Her stonesense sang, but not in a way that indicated danger. “Paladin, I don't think he's one of the bandits.”
The stranger rolled his eyes. “Do I look like a bandit to you?”
Behind Meklavar, the others made sounds of protest - “Of course he does!” - but Paladin evidently agreed with Meklavar and slowly lowered his sword. He kept it at the ready, just in case.
Valayun refused to lower her arrow and kept it trained on the stranger. “Who are you? How do we know you're someone we can trust?”
“Because I believe I'm the one you were sent to rescue,” he told them. “My name is Mizerik, son of Princess Mora.”
-
“Nope.” Lance shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “No way.”
Pidge appeared utterly delighted by the twist. She turned to Keith with a grin and raised her hand, palm facing him. He looked puzzle for a moment and then held up his hand the same way.
“High five?” Pidge asked.
Understanding dawned on Keith's face and he gently clapped his hand to hers. “What are we doing this for?”
“Because we're dwarf pals! This is going to be so much fun!” Pidge said. She picked up her gamepad and began to intently type something.
“You two planned this?” Allura asked, looking to Coran.
He beamed at her. “Keith had the idea after I explained a bit about how the game works. It's all part of an even bigger story I have in mind. I figured that since you all could use something to do, I could do a bigger campaign than the last time. This is only the beginning!”
“I think we'll be able to find time for that,” Shiro said, sounding amused.
“Still worried that my dad might make good on his threat?” Pidge asked.
“You think he won't?”
Pidge wasn't going to argue with him on that.
Coran let them talk for a moment while he took a drink of water. They'd been going for a while and could probably wrap things up soon, or at least take a break before heading into the next part of the campaign.
He scrolled through his chosen story and decided that he'd wait to see what they wanted to do about the remaining bandits first. There wasn't any treasure to find, but the odds were that they would press on until they found something interesting, and he had a misleading side-plot involving a mysterious key if they really wanted to go that route. He almost hoped Keith would convince them that it was unnecessary, but the thought of getting to send them on a wild floklop chase was highly amusing.
It was all dependent on whether or not they took Keith's deal. There was something his character was after, and in exchange for helping him, he would grant a favor.
What was it the humans said again?
Quid pro quo?
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treatian · 4 years ago
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The Chronicles of the Dark One:  The Dark Curse
Chapter 205:  A Father’s Love
Regina was a tricky little devil. He was partly to blame for that, but he wasn't willing to excuse the fact that Cora was her mother or that she'd been brought up as a spoiled little girl by her father either. When he'd first met her, she'd been innocent and naïve. Now that she knew what the world around her was capable of, he knew there were times to excuse himself from her presence. After the fiasco with Count Edmund, for example, he found himself purposefully staying away from her to the extent that when she'd come to his castle one night, screaming his name, demanding to know what he'd done, he'd made himself invisible and stood in a corner, tolerating her destruction of his things, knowing full well that the important things were safe from her. It wasn't that he was scared of her, not by a long shot; no, he had more power than Regina ever would. But he recognized that from now on, he had a tricky role to play in her life. After what happened with the Count and Charlotte, he had appeared before her as an enemy, but he was ever aware that there was time she would need him to be her mentor, still, and other times that she'd need him to be her friend. He'd hidden from her that day because he knew that if she found him, that might be the end of it. When the Count hadn't shown up, and Snow and David continued to live, it hadn't taken her much to put two and two together, and she was so furious that if she got her hands on him, she would have severed their bond so that he would never have been able to appear before her as a friend again. By hiding and letting her take out her anger on his objects, he allowed her to vent her rage towards him at having failed, then go home to wallow in her despair, a place that he would still be able to reach her.
Soon enough, he'd sensed, probably from the Seer, she would let him into her world again. This time when he explained the loophole to the protection spell he'd placed on the Charmings, she would be receptive. She would listen. And the divide would be crossed once more. So he kept up his watching, kept himself fully tuned into the future in his head, and waited to be called to go to her. But he didn't expect it would happen as it had.
In the early morning on the day Snow and David were to be married, he received a summons, one he probably would have answered out of boredom even if the Seer hadn't pressed him to go, but it hadn't led him to Regina, at least not directly. Instead, it took him out into the courtyard where the former queen kept her apple tree, to a man he'd seen several times in his life, who practically had haunted him, and yet he'd never had a conversation with.
Henry.
Cora's husband.
Regina's father.
He wasn't ashamed of his past. He simply preferred not to acknowledge it. Everything he'd ever done, good or bad, was to get back to Baelfire. If he let himself wander too far from that truth, his past sins might kill him. But Henry…
Henry always made him uncomfortable. The idea of talking with him now, standing before him as he was, made his heart race, and he struggled to keep the mask of the Dark One in place before him. Sometimes he thought it might have been the old man's age. He'd already been well over one hundred by the time he'd pursued Cora, and he hardly ever felt his age or even felt like all those years had gone by as they had, but when he looked at Henry, he felt like he could feel every last year he'd ever lived. He was white-haired and wrinkled, a far cry from the handsome young Prince he'd once been in so many ways. When he looked at Henry, he felt like he should have been food for the worms, old and buried by now with his son next to him as his grandchildren brought them flowers for their graves. He'd tried, ever since his indiscretion with Cora, never to pay Henry much attention for that reason. Why he'd summoned him for a face to face meeting now, after all these years…it was a mystery to him.
"You?" he laughed, trying to pretend like he didn't care. "Well, there must be a mistake. Surely you wouldn't summon me. Your daughter could give you all you want!"
"It's not about what I want; it's about what she wants. What can you do for her?"
"I'm sorry, who?"
"Regina!" he stressed, stepping closer to him. There was an old weathered piece of paper in his hands. He kept running his fingers over it, pinching and releasing it, changing his grip on it over and over, nervously. What was it? "I know I don't look like much, but I'm smarter than I appear. I know about you and Cora, just as I know you've taught Regina to be as her mother," he admitted extending his hand so that he might take the paper.
Damn it. It was a letter, one that he'd written to Cora long ago. It had started with "My Love." He regretted those words now. Looking at them made him sick, especially when he thought of what he still felt for Belle. How could he ever have confused what he felt for Cora as love?
"I don't care who you've taught her to be. All I want is my daughter's happiness, for her to live in peace. If you can do something to help her, I'll gladly pay the price."
He believed that. Truly he did. But this wasn't something that involved him. At least not until it came time to cast the Curse.
"I've already done something to help her," he explained, folding the paper and sticking it into his pocket. "She wouldn't take my help."
"Then convince her!" Henry begged. "I fear for her if she doesn't find help. Cora belonged to you, no matter what she said-"
"-Cora belonged to her magic-"
"-but Regina is all I've ever had in this world," he stated, ignoring his correction. "She's all I ever wanted and all I've ever had to be proud of. I can't stand to see her in this state."
He smiled and took a step closer to dear Henry. It was ironic. He couldn't stand to see his daughter in this state. He didn't have much of a choice. If his vision of the future was right, his sacrifice was going to be what it took to get her out of this state.
"And…you would be willing to…die for her...if that were the cost of her happiness?"
Henry's eyes went wide as dinner plates, and he flinched, considering his words and what he'd just said. If he truly was smarter than he appeared, he would know what those words meant. But would he be willing?
Henry nodded. "If that is the cost," he vowed.
Poor old man.
He laughed and tapped his fingers together. "Well then…let's go see, Regina!" he declared.
With another nod, Henry turned to lead him to wherever Regina was.
Oh, he could see what he meant. When Henry walked into her chamber and proclaimed, "You have a visitor," he made quick work of the situation and appeared behind her so that by the time Regina snapped "who?" and her father turned to usher him in, he was already there, watching Regina stare into her mirror.
"You need to ask?" he questioned, drawing her attention away from the mirror. His appearance didn't change her mood, not that he'd really expected it to. It was a perfectly lovely day for a wedding. He doubted that she'd see it that way. Perhaps this wasn't such a bad idea. There was, after all, one little thing in his plan he didn't always account for. Whats and whos and whys were important, of course, but when manipulating a situation, when trying to force the hand of someone who didn't want to be forced, whens could also have their own power. "What other friends do you have, dearie?"
"You're no friend," Regina snarled as her father made his way out of the room. "Have you come to relish my suffering?"
"I thought you'd want someone to help raise your spirits. Especially on a day like today!"
"What's so special about today?" she questioned as he got to his feet. He beamed…as if she had no idea.
"Snow White and Prince Charming's wedding, of course. Didn't you get an invitation? Me neither." Which was sorely unfair considering how much of a hand he'd had in their union. He'd go so far as to say that without him, none of this would be happening. Such gratitude… "Still, nice to be able to see them declare their twoo love in front of their entire kingdom. A happy ending after all."
"And, because of you, there's nothing I can do to stop it," she spat back at him before heading to her vanity. "'No way to harm them in this land ever again!'"
He fought an urge to roll his eyes. She thought she was so brilliant, and yet she hadn't figured out the biggest loophole of all, the only chance that she had for revenge. She just had to be humble enough to follow the plot that he'd laid for her.
"Yes. Yes, I suppose that's true…in this land," he said carefully, emphasizing the last bit so that she would hear a hint of hope in his voice. He'd told her this before, he'd told her about taking them elsewhere…but she'd been stubborn then, filled with hope that the Count could do what she could not. He hoped she just needed reminding.
It worked. The Evil Queen stopped where she was and turned. "What?"
"The deal I made was explicit. You can never harm them in 'this' land. Now, were you to bring them to another land…well…" he smiled at her and watched as understanding finally perked her up. Her chin raised, she smiled, and a spark of light lit up the black behind her eyes. Amazing what the brain could forget when revenge ran wild, amazing how just one little reminder could bring it all back.
"Told you I was your friend," he muttered before disappearing. He had a wedding to watch after all…and Regina had a curse to usher in.
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