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winterpinetrees · 10 months ago

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Zerada Adust of the Las Vegas Strip (The Gap Years Part 12)

June 20th 2019

Las Vegas, NV

I'm definitely jumping through time in a far more disorganized way than a properly paced thing should, but I never said this was going to be good. It's going to be, and that's all.

…………

In the 1950s, tourists would come to Las Vegas to see the clouds of the nuclear bombs being tested a hundred miles to the northwest. The city wasn’t really known for gambling then, and the only thing most of the tourists were betting was their lives against the nuclear fallout. Of course, back then there was lead in gasoline and no seatbelts in cars, so safety was always relative.

The United States government stopped atmospheric testing in 1962, though they’d keep producing bigger and bigger bombs for years. In the half-century since, fallout has drifted over the city exactly once; in 2009 when the Excalibur Project was destroyed by a team of elves wearing that familiar neon-lined armor. It wasn’t a situation like Chernobyl, but the echoes of that disaster are still in the pavement. Sierra’s gadget ticks quickly as the group stands by the New York New York casino. If someone is watching them, they have no way of knowing.

To be honest, even without that much radiation, The Strip still feels it’s going to give her cancer. It has the flashing lights of a science fiction nightmare combined with the noise of a thousand advertisements. Everything smells like cigarette smoke and car exhaust and even the sunset can’t compare to the colors on the signs and walls. That being said, she might be a bit more on edge than usual. Yesterday, she was shot in the neck with something that Brian keeps describing as an arrow. She also hit her head -hard- on the way down. Was she cursed now? Concussed? Who knows, honestly. She can feel the blood pulsing in her neck where she was shot and she swears she’s hearing things that aren’t there. Her steady mechanic’s hands drift against her will. Marin doesn’t know how to fix it.

What else has happened? Well, Marin finally read that casualty list. Apparently it’s short this time, but his parents are still dead. So are Zerada’s parents. The thing that really shook Marin up though was one of the killers. Apparently several guards and a noble were killed by a woman named Devana Marolak, despite the fact that Devana was supposed to be on his side. Clay stated the obvious -she must have turned traitor- but Marin refused to believe it. The high nobility live for their storied bloodlines. She wouldn’t betray her family like that. Well, she’s a problem for another time.

They’re standing in front of the fifty foot tall statue of something almost like the Statue of Liberty. The area is more of a plaza for once. It was over a hundred degrees Fahrenheit today (she still thinks that way, despite her best efforts to use Celsius) and a good part of the strip is barren sidewalk. You aren’t supposed to walk outside in Vegas. Any time spent where you can see the sun is time where you aren’t losing track of reality. Sierra guesses that this place is close enough to a casino that it’s profitable to hang around.

“It’s sunset. She should be here.” Marin’s recovered fully from their little car chase. He’s explained again that the nobility are fragile, and that he just needed to sleep it off. He’s also fidgeting and nervous and put on eyeliner this morning so…

“Or, this whole thing was a trap,” Clay replies, unhelpfully cynical as always.

Sierra’s tired of it. “Pretty stupid trap, unless they want to give us cancer first”.

“Hey, we don’t know what that magic arrow did”.

A patch of light moves on the ground in front of their feet. It looks like the reflection off of a phone, and Sierra looks around to see if anyone is moving theirs. No one. She follows the light up and behind them to the torch of the replica statue. Marin’s face lights up (no, not literally this time).

“Of course she’s up there! We’d always…” he laughs. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Wait here,”

Marin disappears with a flash of green. Once he’s out of earshot, Clay shakes his head.

“So our only hope is Marin’s girlfriend?”

It seems like it is.

“Are they even dating? He keeps calling her ‘his betrothed’ which is a different thing” Brian replies.

“Are elves even, like… what’s the word for only having one spouse?” she asks.

“Monogamous?”

“Yeah, that”. To be honest, humans aren’t always monogamous either. She has two step siblings to prove it.

“I don’t know. Ask him”. Brian shrugs as if he doesn’t care, but everyone knows he’s obsessed with all that cultural stuff.

They quietly discuss. Brian mentions that Marin’s been translating everything into English and trying to not offend them, and that they really can’t be sure of anything because of it. The two of them pester him for being an annoying future English major and decide to ignore it.

After a few minutes, Marin reappears with a woman in an orange dress on his arm. She’s holding the cheap carnival fox under the other, and they’re both smiling like maniacs. She is only the second elf they’ve seen outside of combat.

Marin is an elf prince, but he doesn’t look like it. Ignore the pointed ears and he looks pretty unremarkable. Zerada though? She would be mistaken for a goddess if she showed up in Ancient Greece. They’re in Vegas instead, so Sierra invents other comparisons. She looks like a supermodel. She looks like what the media wants her and her mother to be. She is all of this while holding a stuffed animal.

Zerada looks about their age, so she must be nearly a hundred. She stands taller than Marin, but only while wearing four-inch heeled boots. Zerada throws her dark flowing hair over her shoulders when she laughs and her practically glowing skin is somewhere between suntanned and bronze. Sierra made a comment a few days ago about the Genus Adust symbol (a burnt-orange fox) being a cliche for a woman, but it fits. Her ears are sharp and pointed, and there’s a mischievous spark in her amber eyes. This is a smart, smart woman, but women are never allowed to just be smart. Zerada is both smart and drop-dead gorgeous, which means she’ll only ever be cunning and dangerous. Foxy. Then again, she’s an elf princess who survived a coup. Maybe Sierra should wait a second before deciding that she isn’t a threat.

The two speak in an elven language for a moment, but Zerada switches to English.

“So I hear you’ve all had quite the adventure?” Her voice is low and playful. It’s exactly what she’d expect from a stereotypical vixen. Considering how the elf is from another planet (parallel dimension. whatever) she’s definitely playing into it on purpose. It unsettles Sierra, who won’t touch that sort of behavior with a ten foot pole.

“You could say that,” Clay replies, deadpan.

“How’s Mari been treating you?” She looks at Sierra and grimaces. “Life and death, that is quite the spell. I’ll get you all some rooms and…”

Mari? His nickname is Mari?

“I’m sorry, but you are Zerada, right?” Brian asks.

“Yes! My name is Zerada Adust. It’s a pleasure to meet the humans who have kept this idiot alive. And you all are?”

Marin elbows her. She puts a hand on his head and pushes him away. They all introduce themselves.

Zerada raises her eyebrows in exaggerated surprise “Those are some familiar names”.

They speak in elvish again.

“It isn’t nice to talk about people when they’re in the room,” Clay says firmly.

“I was just telling Mari that the three of you are impressive companions”. She looks at each of them in turn. “The favorite child of the world’s most interesting tech magnate, the overlooked son of the California governor, and well, I don’t exactly recognize you…”

She stares at Clay. They’re about the same height and neither one looks away for a long moment, but he backs down first. “A lot of people in Vegas are desperate. Addiction, medical debt… people come here to die. Your father is part of the reason why”.

He straightens his shoulders and glares back at her, but the woman keeps talking. “You aren’t his heir, or part of his appearances. An exotic pet, then? I’d say seen and not heard, but I haven’t seen you either”.

Clay starts to say something, but is cut off. “Not that? Not good at doing tricks?”

“You don’t get to say anything about me, princess”.

“I do, actually. I don’t play by the rules either, but I suppose I got the last laugh.” She bares her teeth. “I’m here and alive, after all. Daddy isn’t”.

Sierra has really never seen Clay outplayed by anyone, especially not someone holding a toy fox. “I’m not interested in women,” he replies, which is as good a response as any.

“Oh? Hm”.

There’s a beat of silence. Then Sierra starts laughing.

“Really? Flirting with my companion?” Marin has his own exaggerated look of shock.

Zerada lifts her hands in surrender. “Hey, you had a crush on my brother”.

Marin smiles awkwardly, but then they both go silent.

“Jezero is still alive,” he says. “He’s not on the list”. Zerada replies that she’s already seen it. It’s not clear to Sierra if the elves are happy about this or not.

Whatever the hell that was, it’s over now. Zerada walks them up the Las Vegas Strip towards the hotel where she’s rented a huge suite under one of a dozen fake names. Her tall boots clack against the sidewalk while Marin’s footsteps are silent.

“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,” she explains when Sierra asks if they’re safe here. “This place is full of elves who just want to have a good time. If Mercuralis wants to send soldiers here, she’ll piss all of us off”.

“So we’re counting on a bunch of drunk, magic, gamblers to protect us?” she replies.

Zerada turns back and rolls her eyes. “Please. Why would we gamble? There’s better games to play”.

That’s when the elf starts talking about herself. She’s spent four months in Vegas, but most of the past decade in all the cities, islands, and exclaves where the world’s rich and powerful waste their money. She’s fluent in English, Mandarin, and Arabic, as well as Portuguese (which is her favorite, and shockingly useful where she travels). Zerada is a shameless thrill seeker and gifted at charms and mental spells. There isn’t a criminal underground she doesn’t have friends in, or a casino she hasn’t robbed. Zerada makes a single quip about her body count without confirming what she’s counting, and both options make perfect sense. This woman is a femme fatale straight out of James Bond, minus any chance of dying for some man’s character development. If anything, Marin is the trophy spouse, and he seems okay with it.

Zerada changes her room every few weeks to avoid suspicion, and she’s currently staying at Caesars Palace purely for the pun. Marin and Zerada speak for a long time in elvish about something that leaves both of them doubled over laughing before Marin stalks off to buy the party a two bedroom suite. (Zerada insists they stay somewhere nice for once after a week on the road).

And the room is nice. Her father would probably buy out the whole building if he were here, but he isn’t, so the three rich kids sit awkwardly in the ‘living room’, because yes, this hotel room has a living room in it. The truth is, this is what they were trying to get away from. Staying in a room with a wet bar feels wrong when they were all nearly dragged off to imprisonment and death yesterday, and when the future is sure to be worse. The side of her neck is still glowing very scary red in the mirror, and Zerada didn’t do anything about it despite her also very scary reaction to it. She slunk back to her own room, and Marin followed… so they’re not going to interrupt. It’s fine. Sierra isn’t cursed. She’ll be fine.

They sit in silence.

Brian drinks from a can of soda. “So what does everyone think she meant about there being better games to play?”

“Politics, probably. She’s a noblewoman. I wouldn’t be shocked if they’re pulling strings everywhere”. Clay responds as if elves manipulating everything was too boring to focus on.

“So there’s a secret society of elves puppeteering everyone in Vegas and we’re okay with this?” Sierra says.

Brian gives her a movie star smile. “We don’t have much of a choice, do we?”

“We’re trying to save the world, Brian”.

They pause for a moment. Clay sighs.

“Please do not tell me you have a crush on Marin’s girlfriend. She is not nice. No one like that is ever nice”.

He takes a very long and conspicuous drink from his soda. “You’re nice, and you like politics and lying”.

“You dumb blond. That’s not what I mean!” He grabs a pillow and throws it.

Well, there’s only one thing to do now. Who says that the heroes can’t act like idiots sometimes? Brian’s certainly going to, so she picks up a pillow.

…………

As always, foreshadowing is a literary device.

Zerada and Marin’s relationship status is a secret third thing! Imagine the most complicated on-again-off-again relationship you heard about in high school, and then consider that they’ve been friends for eighty years, and are societally expected to have 2.5 children or whatever the average noble birth rate is.

I do not know how to write, or fully understand, romance. I guess I'll figure it out because Brian making a very bad decision is a central part of his character arc, and also crucial for the plot.

#by me #the gap years #writing that *is*

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shanastoryteller · 4 years ago

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Wen Qing says yes because all she can think of is the consequences if she doesn’t.

She probably should have spent some time considering what, exactly, the consequences of saying yes would be.

Wei Wuxian wants to go back to the banquet and shake Jin Zixun until the information they need falls out, but Wen Qing knows that’s a terrible idea, knows that he shouldn’t be helping her at all but he definitely shouldn’t stand in front of the whole cultivation world and threaten the Jin family for her. He asks one of the servants instead, something she wouldn’t have thought to do, but he insists that servants know everything and after a hefty bribe he’s telling them what they need to know and even turns a blind eye when they take a horse that’s been left unattended.

She’s skinny on a good day and she hasn’t seen a good day in a long time. Wei Wuxian didn’t used to be this thin, this breakable, but he is now, and she tells herself it’s a good thing because the one horse is easily able to carry both of them. He sits behind her even though he takes the reigns and she leans back into him because she’s been holding herself up for so long and she’s tired and he’s helping her, something no one has been willing to in – ever, really. She thinks she could almost count his ribs against her back and thinks if she’s alive tomorrow she’ll give him a lecture about eating properly without a golden core to nourish him.

They arrive just as a guard is raising a broken flag pole above his head to skewer A-Ning.

Wei Wuxian stops him, using a talisman to bind the man’s wrist to his own and jerking him away from her brother. Who is alive, and whole, and does not have a pole through his stomach. She’s crying when she holds him and Wei Wuxian stands between them and everyone else and looks at the guards and her people and says, “I have an idea. It’s a bad idea.”

“Your ideas usually are,” she says, but she’s still shaking at having her little brother back in her arms so it doesn’t come out as acerbic as she intended.

It is a terrible idea. She doesn’t have to agree to it.

She does.

They go to the nearest temple in Lanling because they need witnesses for this. The monks are confused and frightened but bear witness as she bows three times to Wei Wuxian and is bowed to three times in return.

She is exhausted and scared and is still unconvinced that she’ll live to see the sunrise, but Wei Wuxian had helped her when she hadn’t asked and saved her brother and wouldn’t let the guards stop them from leading her family from the work camp, so she marries him.

They go back to Koi Tower. It’s terrifying but Jiang disciples meet them and look askance at all the rest of them but don’t hesitate to obey Wei Wuxian. They surround them as they walk and if they have opinions about being told to guard traitorous Wen, they don’t voice them. Maybe the fact that they’re guarding Wei Wuxian too is enough.

They enter the banquet hall and everything is silent. She doesn’t know how to read the look on everyone’s faces and she doesn’t try. Instead she stands by Wei Wuxian’s side and does what she does best – she doesn’t flinch.

“Wei Wuxian!” Jin Guangshan shouts, appalled. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Sect Leader Jin,” he says, offhand, casual, as if having his hall filled with Wen is a perfectly ordinary occurrence. “You’re so good at throwing parties. I was hoping you would throw one for me.”

Jin Guangshan’s eyes narrow. “Why would we throw a party?”

“Well, it is my wedding day,” he says, and holds out his hand. Wen Qing places her hand in his, lets his other hand settle warm and proprietary at the small of her back. “My wife, Wen Qing. We were just married at the temple in Lanling. Feel free to question the monks if you don’t believe me.”

The silence breaks, everyone shouting now, and A-Yuan’s cry cuts through all of them.

She hadn’t known that Wei Wuxian had any experience with children, but he turns automatically, opening his arms, and Granny barely hesitates before placing A-Yuan into them. After all, if they can’t trust Wei Wuxian, they’re all dead anyway.

A-Yuan, astonishingly, quiets instantly as Wei Wuxian bounces him in his arms, settling his head on his shoulder and sticking his thumb in his mouth.

“You,” Wen Qing turns, sees Jiang Cheng looking between them, and she could probably read the look on his face but she doesn’t want to. “He’s your – you have a – was it when we, after Lotus Pier?”

She and Wei Wuxian glance at each other, and maybe this marriage will work out, because that one glance contains a whole conversation of things they can’t say. The timeline almost works. A-Yuan likely was conceived sometime around the fall of Lotus Pier. If there is a child, Wei Wuxian’s actions become more understandable, seem less like an act of war and something closer to what they really are, an act of love.

She could have, she supposes, laid with Wei Wuxian and gotten pregnant and bore a child in the years since they’ve seen each other. She didn’t, but the only ones who know that are either dead or just as desperate as she is for this to work.

Or. Well.

Jiang Yanli’s face is easier to look at, even as it does something complicated then smooths. She was there and awake while they all recovered with her and Wen Ning. She knows that she and Wei Wuxian didn’t have any sort of epic romance, or even a quick tryst, during that time. Wei Wuxian was so obsessively focused on helping his brother that the idea he’d have paused long enough for sex when he hadn’t for sleep or food is ridiculous. But Jiang Yanli meets her gaze then pointedly lowers her eyes and something like relief trickles down Wen Qing’s spine.

Wei Wuxian looks around the hall and if he hesitates over Lan Wangji, that’s a conversation for them to have later, if there is a later.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” Wei Wuxian says quietly, formally, and Jiang Cheng nearly flinches before catching himself. “Meet my son. Wei Yuan.” He lets that echo through the hall and then says, “I could not leave him, nor the woman who bore him, nor the family that raised him when I remained in ignorance.”

She lowers his gaze as if in shame, for having a child out of marriage, for keeping that child from his father, but mostly she can’t stand to see the look at Jiang Cheng’s face any longer.

There is intense debate among the clans. The Lan and surprisingly even the Nie vote against the Jin and agree for the Wen to be released to the custody of the Jiang rather than the Jin. What’s the difference between one great clan and the other, after all, and Jiang Cheng fights for this, fights for them, and Wen Qing knows he’s really fighting for Wei Wuxian. Their marriage makes things too complicated, like they’d hoped. A-Yuan makes things too complicated, and everyone in the hall mostly seems to want to go back to drinking. There is some poorly hidden sentiment that if Wei Wuxian wants a war bride he should be entitled to her, for his contribution to the war, perhaps, and Wen Qing hates these people. They do not call her and her family tribute but they imply it easily enough.

If the price of the lives of her family is her pride, that’s fine. She abandoned that a long time ago.

“You have been good for him,” Jiang Yanli tells her a month after they’ve moved into Lotus Pier, a month of being the wife to Wei Wuxian and the mother to the now Wei Yuan. She doesn’t do a particularly good job at either of these roles, she thinks, but Wei Wuxian makes a good husband and a good father and it was his idea but she can’t help but feel guilty, can’t help but think she stole for herself and her family what was meant for someone else.

Her sister in law’s words aren’t wrong, however. She doesn’t let Wei Wuxian drink so much anymore and forces him to eat. She’s there in his bed when he gasps awke from nightmares and when he can do nothing more but clutch his chest and weep. She gets the story of the Burial Mounds from him, eventually, and she doesn’t know how to heal that kind of trauma, but she holds him when he cries and thinks even if she can’t be a proper wife, she can do this, and she heals the damage demonic cultivation does to his meridians, and it seems like such little things, comparatively, but it helps.

She’s offers up the excuse that demonic cultivation makes using his sword difficult and people stop asking him to carry it. A-Ning sticks to Wei Wuxian’s side when she can’t, looking faintly sad whenever Wei Wuxian makes an unhealthy choice, which is even more effective than her scolding, although not as effective as getting A-Yuan to place his chubby hand on Wei Wuxian’s cheek and go, “Baba no.”

Without so many nightmares, with having people around he can talk to freely, with no one pestering him about his sword, Wei Wuxian shoulders all the responsibilities of first disciple and brother of the clan leader, something he apparently hadn’t been able to do before.

She knows what the rumors say. Those that had been against her and her family being set free, relatively speaking, are now patting themselves on the back. Clearly the fearsome Yiling Patriarch has been cowed by marriage. His bastard son, who he loved enough at first sight to legitimize, has softened his sharp edges.

Wen Qing knows that’s all bullshit and Jiang Yanli does too, but.

He is better.

Jiang Cheng can’t seem to decide between being relieved and grateful at having his brother back and resentful that it took Wen Qing to bring it about and – whatever his feelings about her are, and her marriage to his brother are, which she doesn’t know because she refuses to acknowledge them.

“I’m glad,” she says quietly.

Her sister in law squeezes her hand, and Wen Qing squeezes back, and if this isn’t exactly the life she wanted, well. It’s a life. That’s more than she thought she’d have.

She has a loving husband and an adorable son and living, healthy family. There is nothing for her to complain about.

Just because it all feels stolen, just because it all feels like something she never should have been given, doesn’t make it less good, doesn’t make it less hers.

Wen Qing knows that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are in love with each other because she has two functioning eyes. She’s known that since she was a teenager in Cloud Recesses.

She had not wanted to come between them. She hadn’t planned on it. This all hadn’t even been her idea.

She’s guilty enough about it that she ignores her own feelings.

At first, she doesn’t have any, not really. Then it hadn’t been right.

She’s never felt greedy before. She doesn’t like it but she doesn’t know how to stop it.

They’ve been married for over a year the first time Wei Wuxian kisses her.

They’ve been married nearly two years the first time Wei Wuxian kisses Lan Wangji.

Something settles in her then, relief burrowing into her bones. Lan Wangji comes to her after, a combination of desirously happy and mortified, and bows to her and looks her in the eye when he tells her that he’s in love with her husband.

“I know,” she says kindly, “he’s easy to love.” She pauses, then says, “I do not mind. If it’s you.”

His lips part, and she holds the place that should be his, married to Wei Wuxian, but.

She can share, if he can. Even if it can’t be official, on paper, she and Wen Ning can bear witness to him and Wei Wuxian bowing to each other and maybe she’ll finally be able to breath when she can give back some of what she stole.

There are rumors about the three of them.

They don’t listen to them.

A-Yuan calls Lan Wangji his father and no one corrects him and that’s good enough for her, really.

It’s a good life, and it’s hers, and she’s glad of it.

#fandom ficcery #untamed #what the fuck is this #i cannot emphasize enough #how much i didn't intend to write this #meant to write like four sentences just to get the idea out #and instead there's this #i just think wwx an wq would be a good married couple #i guess #i comprise the entirety of the wwx/wq community #i just think they're neat

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helloalycia · 4 years ago

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The Wrong Lifetime – Three // Wanda Maximoff

chapter two | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter four

author’s note: i have nothing to say except enjoy!

Chewing on my bottom lip, I looked over the shelves at the different kinds of stationary the shop had to offer. I needed a new notebook and some ink since I'd ran low at home, so I decided to come into town to have a look.

A brown leather-bound notebook caught my eye and I picked it up, flicking through the pages. Sadly, they were too thin for my liking, so I replaced it and kept looking.

Moments like this were one of the few luxuries I had to myself, where my mother wasn't nattering in my ear about finding a husband and learning to do something useful other than writing, or where my brother wasn't overshadowing me in everything he did, making me feel even worse about myself. No, moments like this, I could just be.

"Y/N? Is that you?"

And there goes my moment.

Plastering a smile on my lips, I spun around and was surprised to see Wanda approaching me with an equally surprised expression on her face. She really was everywhere, wasn't she?

"Wanda, hello," I greeted as she stopped by my side. "It's good to see you."

She looked good, considering I hadn't seen her for a few days. Maybe once when she'd popped in to say hello to everybody before her date with my brother, but that was hardly a meeting. Now, she looked cheery, eyes sparkling with their usual excitement.

"You, too," she said softly, a smile creeping on her lips. Her eyes fell to my hands, where I was holding some ink. "Don't you have servants to do that for you?"

"Don't you have servants to do that for you?" I countered lightheartedly, eyes flickering to the vast amount of paintbrushes and paint in her arms.

She narrowed her eyes in a playful manner. "Touché."

Rolling my eyes in good nature, I asked, "So, what made you decide to go shopping?"

"I needed some new supplies," she quipped with an adorable smile, lifting her arms which were filled with said supplies.

"And you didn't think a basket would help?" I joked, before turning to grab a stray basket beside the shelves and helping her to put everything in it.

She chuckled, accepting my help, and answered, "Truthfully, I only came for the paint, but then I saw some new brushes I wanted to try, and then there were some new colours in stock and, well, before I knew it–"

"This happened," I finished for her with amusement, handing her the filled basket.

She took the basket from my hands and nodded. "Exactly. I would have sent my servant to get the paint, but last time I did, she came back with the wrong one."

"Oh, the scandal," I teased.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and it was refreshing to see the shoe on the other foot. I guess I could see the fun in it now – no wonder she teased me often. Plus, she looked cute when she was caught off guard.

"What about you?" she countered, attempting to take the attention off her.

Content smile on my lips, I watched her. "What about me?"

She gave me an isn't it obvious? look. "I told you why I was here. What about you?"

I shrugged, looking back to the shelves. "I just needed some things... and I may or may not get excited when buying stationary."

Her melodious laughter filled the air. "Of course."

"I just don't know which to get," I told her, motioning to the notebooks. "There's so many options!"

She hummed with amusement, stepping by my side closely and reaching out to get a better look. I was acutely aware of her shoulder pressed to mine and tried to stop thinking about it, but obviously, once I told myself to stop thinking about it, it was all I could think about.

"How about this one?" she suggested, picking up a notebook wrapped in a burgundy-coloured sleeve. She was probably biased since it was her favourite colour.

I took it from her grasp as she held it towards me, feeling tingles at the tips of my fingers when they grazed her hand. God, I needed to get a grip.

Before I could look at the notebook properly, I noticed a smudge on her hand, subconsciously grabbing it before she pulled away. Flipping it over so I could see her palm, I saw several smudges of colour and stared with confusion.

"Paint," she explained, mildly embarrassed as she pulled away. "The stuff goes everywhere."

I hid a smile, finding it cute, before looking to the notebook again.

"I like it, but now to see the pages," I said, flipping through them to see if they were thick enough. I hated getting a notebook with flimsy pages that ink seeped through.

"Are they to your liking, your majesty?" she teased, and I looked up to see her tilting her head and watching me through her eyelashes.

"Yes, they are actually," I retorted with a childish glare, before closing it. "Thanks."

She half-suppressed a laugh. "Good. Let's hope it gives you some... vdokhnoveniye."

She paused, scrunching her nose in thought, probably searching for the right word in English. I was too distracted by how enchanting she looked when she did that to care about her struggle to find the word.

"Vdokhnoveniye is like inspiration," she explained, eyes looking back to me after staring up in thought, "but it's something better. It's from the word vdykhat', meaning to breathe."

"So, you want me to get a good breath from this?" I asked, quirking a brow with bemusement.

"No! No." She laughed, running a hand through her curls. "It's like... when you get inspired by something so quickly, as quickly as it takes to take in a breath. Never mind, it's stupid."

"It's not," I reassured her with an appreciative look. "I get it. Thanks. I like that. Russian is definitely a fascinating language."

She seemed glad that I made sense of her ramblings and I smiled, realising there was much more to Wanda than her ability to make me a stumbling mess.

"Have you got everything?" I asked her, glancing to her basket, before quickly adding, "What am I saying? Of course you've got everything. Practically half the store is in there."

She shoved me gently. "Not nice. But yes, I have everything."

I refrained from chuckling at her dismay before leading the way to the till so we could pay. As we took turns, the cashier made conversation with both of us. I knew of him because I'd been here enough times to make a friend, but I was surprised to see Wanda was the same. I was certain I'd never seen her here before. And I'd been here a lot.

When we finished paying, we began to head outside and I decided to speak my thoughts.

"You know, it's strange to think that we've both been coming here for a while and yet we've never crossed paths," I noted. "I mean, unless we have and just didn't know who each other were then."

She shook her head casually. "Oh, no, we haven't crossed paths. I'd definitely remember a pretty face like yours."

I paused, bewildered at her words as they took time to sink in. She seemed to notice as she laughed, holding the door to the shop open for me. I walked outside and she followed after me, eyes glancing at me satisfactorily.

"So, er, what are you doing now?" I changed the subject, recovering from my momentary shock.

She settled with a smile as she answered, "I'm in the middle of adding some finishing touches to a painting I'm working on. I'll probably head back to finish it."

"Ah, the paintings that you talk about but I've never seen," I joked, relaxing under her stare. "I'm starting to believe you're lying to me, love."

She rolled her eyes, though her smile widened, revealing a dimple by the corner of her mouth. "I'm not... You can come with me if you'd like. I don't mind showing you." When her eyes met mine, she quickly added, "If you're not busy, that is."

Humour disappearing, I nodded with surprise. "Sure. I'd love to."

And that wasn't a lie. I was curious to see the Sokovian's work since she seemed to enjoy talking about art so much. Plus, I could appreciate some good art when I needed to and I wondered if hers would fit the bill.

Or at least that's what I told myself when she flashed her dazzling smile my way, making my heart explode with adoration.

—

Just like me, Wanda didn't have a dedicated place to work from because her parents didn't deem her passion an appropriate hobby for a young woman in today's day and age. So, just like I did, she worked in her room and made the most of the space she had.

As soon as we took a step inside, I was amazed by how much stuff there was. Of course there was the expected – a bed, an ottoman, a wardrobe and a desk – but it was as if that was all secondary furniture to the main focus.

Closest to the giant window on the opposite end of the room were several canvases being supported by easels, some painted and some blank. Papers with sketches of literally anything you can think of were taped to the walls, some scattered along the floor and some scrunched up entirely, missing the bin.

Her desk was filled with jars of paintbrushes, oils, pencils, chalk and any other art supply I'd probably never heard nor seen of before. The place was messy, but not dirty. Her bed was made, the sheets as crisp as could be, her books were lined up neatly, her paintbrushes all had a perfect spot. It was clean, but it was a giant mess, and it was the most beautiful mess I'd ever seen. I refused to believe art was merely a hobby for her when it seemed like her room was dedicated to it.

"This is your room?" I asked with disbelief, eyebrows raised.

Clearly mistaking my amazement for critique, she dumped her newly purchased art supplies on her bed before rushing to pick up some loose papers and canvases from the floor.

"Yes," she squeaked, attempting to kick some papers under her bed as she straightened up sheepishly. "Sorry for the mess. Believe it or not, it does follow a system."

I laughed wholeheartedly, heading further into the space to where her makeshift studio was. "Wanda, you don't need to apologise. This place is amazing."

She snickered, glancing around at everything. "You think? I'd love something more – a real studio – but of course, women aren't supposed to have hobbies apart from pleasing their husband and hosting dinners every other week."

The last part she said with a hint of bitterness, clearly repeating what she'd been told before, no doubt by her parents. I was surprised by her vulgarity, but I wasn't in disagreement. She was absolutely right and it was such a shame because women were so much more than their husband. Too bad society would never see that.

"My father only allows me this... sanctuary," she finished with a sigh, before her hand rested on her desk. "It's not much, but at least it's mine."

"Well, I love it," I told her honestly, making her smile as she looked my way. "Can I look around?"

She waved her hand. "Of course. Nothing's off limits, but do be generous. My ego is easily bruised."

I chuckled at her joke and she flashed me another smile before grabbing her neglected art supplies. As I helped myself to looking around at her work, I heard her rustling around behind me and glanced her way, seeing her making herself comfortable on a stool before a particular canvas. I presumed it was the piece she was working on that she mentioned earlier and got back to my browsing.

She was extremely talented, not that I had any doubts to be honest. There were her bigger pieces, the extremely detailed ones, that she'd painted of grassy landscapes. Some were green full trees with falling leaves, some were cherry blossom trees with pink blossoms floating in the air, some were buildings overgrown with mother nature. I recognised none of them, but they transported me elsewhere like a nostalgic reminder of being a kid and playing in the garden with my mum. Even now, I helped her do the gardenening, but I'd never really appreciated my surroundings until I saw Wanda's work.

And those were just the huge pieces. She'd done sketches that were taped to the wall, to her desk, floating out of sketchbooks. Some were plans for bigger pieces, others were daily observations, all of her surroundings. She didn't draw people, I noticed, it was mainly scenery. But it was all stunning and it brought a smile to my lips as I imagined her producing all of this in her own little sanctuary, as she called it.

"You've been quiet for too long," she called out jokingly, after a while of me perusing her sketchbooks.

I looked up from my seat at her desk, seeing her focused on her painting, but an amused smile ghosted her lips. The sunlight from the window was hitting her perfectly at the moment, and even from where I was sat, I could see the flecks of gold shimmering in her eyes, matching the auburn streaks in her hair. The breath got knocked out of me momentarily, and I almost forgot that she'd said something.

Clearing my throat, I returned her smile. "I'm admiring your work, Wanda. You're bloody talented."

She lowered her paintbrush and gave me an incredulous look. "Tell me what you really think, Y/N."

I grinned, laughing slightly. "I am! I genuinely think this is amazing."

She pressed her lips together, still reluctant to believe me, but she nodded gratefully and returned her attention to her painting. I didn't fail to notice the pink spreading across her cheeks at the compliment, and my heart fluttered at the sight.

"Would you ever sell any of these?" I asked her, standing up and approaching her side to see what she was working on.

I noticed the addition of stray paint that had made its way to her hands and forearms and it made me smile. I don't even think she realised it was there.

She scrunched her nose up at the idea. "I've given some away to family friends because my parents made me. But no, I don't think I'd sell them." Something seemed to make her snort with amusement, then she said, "Nobody would buy them anyway."

I frowned as she sighed, her shoulders sagging at the thought. It was horrible to admit, but she was right. Female authors – questionable, but sure, they existed. Female painters? Let's just say that it was easier to be successful if you worked under a pseudonym and pretended to be a man. Which she clearly wouldn't do, or at least her parents wouldn't allow her to do. Sadly, Wanda Maximoff was in the wrong lifetime.

Hoping to cheer her up, I stood by her side and admired the strokes she made with her paintbrush. "If it's any consolation, if we were in another lifetime where I actually made money, I'd buy them."

She glanced at me, partially disbelieving my words, partially intrigued. "Seriously?"

I nodded with certainty, eyes flickering between hers and her painting. "Seriously. All of them. I'd buy every single one."

She looked away, swallowing hard, then a soft, barely noticeable smile appeared on her lips, and I was glad I'd said the right thing.

Focusing my attention on the painting again, I saw it was a stunning view of a stream, and the way she'd painted it made it seem like it was flowing off the canvas. Her last minute touches, adding white flecks of oil paint on the water, managed to bring the piece to life without any effort. I was amazed at how someone could make nothing turn into something so easily.

"Where is this?" I asked curiously, not recognising the scene, and also wondering where she'd gone for the inspiration since we lived in a busy town that didn't have water sources nearby.

She pointed to her head with the end of her paintbrush. "Up here."

"You made this up?" I asked, surprised for the millionth time since arriving.

"Uh-huh." She tilted her head to study the piece, whilst saying, "I usually paint what's in the garden. Sometimes what I see in town is good, too. But I really wanted to paint water, and apart from the constant rain we get, there is none. So, I made it up."

I was impressed at her ability to make up something like this, but also slightly confused. "Why don't you just visit Blackpool? There's a beach – water, sand, pier, everything. And it's not too far from here. You could make it a day trip."

She shrugged, distracting herself with dipping her brush on her palette. "I don't want to go by myself."

I probably should have recommended she visit with my brother. You know, the man she was engaged to? But my eagerness got the better of me, and I ended up saying, "Maybe we could go together. If you want."

She looked up, a slow smile forming on her lips. "I'd like that."

I mirrored her expression, nodding slightly. "Great. I'm sure we can arrange something. Promise."

She held my gaze for a second longer, saying, "I'll hold you to that, milaya," before looking back to her painting.

"What does that mean?" I asked suddenly, my mind clearly not controlling my words today. "You keep calling me it."

She chuckled, leaning forward to get a closer look at her work with her paintbrush. "Darling."

"Pardon?"

She shook her head, glancing at me with amusement. "No, Y/N. It means darling."

I swallowed awkwardly, certain my cheeks were as red as they felt warm. I wasn't sure what was more embarrassing – that I'd responded to her calling me darling when she hadn't, or that she'd been calling it me this whole time without me knowing. "Oh."

"Pull up a stool," she changed the subject, though my mind was still racing at her revelation. Had she called Y/B/N that? I couldn't recall. "I'll show you how to paint a little if you want."

Dazed, I did as she said whilst chewing on my lip with thought. She watched me, grinning from ear to ear, but said nothing. Was it normal for my heart to flip-flop in my chest like it was? I couldn't tell anymore. And when she grabbed my hand without saying anything, my hand felt like it was on fire with her touch.

The tip of her paintbrush swiped against my inner palm, her soft fingertips holding it up. Every area that her finger touched was burning, sending tingles up my arm and leaving me paralysed. Good thing I was sat down.

"There," she said like it was obvious. "Now you're an artist."

Blue eyes met mine excitedly and I gave her a small smile in return, hoping that these strange thoughts and reactions would disappear soon enough. Because this was definitely not appropriate.

—

My dreams were never anything worthwhile.

For someone who had a creative mind and could string sentences together to create a story I was proud of, my subconscious was the opposite. It was dry and boring and I rarely remembered my dreams unless they were scary enough to wake me up. But this time, this was a dream I was certain I'd never forget...

As with all dreams, I was unable to control what was happening. I was myself, observing from a first person point of view like it was real, but I had no control over my words or actions. Everything was predetermined, like a script I was forced to follow.

So, in this particular dream, I was sat in the back of a carriage, wearing a dress that was fancier than my usual taste. One hand was clutching my purse and the other was in someone else's hand, the person playing with my fingers soothingly.

"We're stopping now. Are you ready?"

It was Wanda. I had no idea why she was in my dream, or why she was leaning into my side comfortably, or why she was playing with my fingers like she did it all the time. I just knew that it shouldn't have been happening.

"Yeah, c'mon," I said with a smile, following my dream's script.

I intertwined our fingers and raised them to my lips, pressing a kiss to her palm. She smiled with adoration and allowed me to lead her out the carriage quickly. We were at the theatre and the first thing I thought was that my mind was creating a date similar to the one she shared with my brother. Oh, God, this wasn't good.

"Promise you've got the tickets?" she asked as we walked inside, hand in hand.

In my dream, nobody around us seemed to care that we were together, that we were two women showing affection and simply existing in a way more than friends. As wrong as I knew it was to dream of my soon-to-be sister-in-law like this, my mind was at peace, knowing I could be myself in my dream state. I didn't have to hide my identity and it was liberating.

"No, I decided to leave them at home," I answered her sarcastically, smiling.

She squeezed my hand and tugged me close, stopping me from walking any further. Her face scrunched together with a feigned annoyance.

"You don't need to be mean," she mumbled, eyes peering into mine, and my heart raced at the contact of her body pressed to mine.

Grinning, I pressed a kiss to her nose. "I've got them right here, love. Now let's go before we're late."

The dream didn't have a clear transformation. I just knew that one second I was staring at Wanda and the next I was sat beside her in the theatre, waiting for the lights to go down.

"Here," I said, passing her the programme for the show that was in my hand.

When I looked down at it, I was surprised to see a wedding ring on my left hand. Huh.

The lights dimmed when Wanda looked my way, green eyes bright in the dark. She shrugged, grabbing the programme and tossing it over her shoulder to the (thankfully) empty seat next to her.

"Looks like I missed my chance," she said, referring to the lack of light.

I opened my mouth to counter her words, but she didn't give me chance to as she pressed her lips to mine, hand raising to hold the back of my neck and pull me closer. Real me was freaking out, wondering why the hell I was allowing myself to have such thoughts about the girl who was going to marry my brother. And dream me was melting into her touch, shivering at her warmth and the way she began to suck my bottom lip.

"Wanda," I breathed out, pulling away breathlessly, but she continued to hold me close with a stifled grin.

"Isn't that why we got these tickets?" she said jokingly, eyes meeting mine.

My heart raced as she did, the simplest of glances making me weak in the knees. I was beginning to learn that her eyes were irresistibly beautiful.

"Right," I found my words, smiling in agreement as my eyes flickered to her lips.

They were painted red tonight, slightly smudged from the abrupt kiss she gave me, and I could only imagine the state of my own lips.

"We can watch the play now," she whispered, and I just about managed to tear my gaze from her lips to see the entertained look in her eyes.

I hummed in response, not trusting myself to say something comprehensible. Her lips curved into a smile and she linked our arms before settling into her seat, head leaning on my shoulder. I leaned mine on top, kissing the top of her head gently before also getting comfortable.

When I woke up, I didn't remember the rest of the dream, or know if there was a rest of the dream. I opened my eyes and found myself laying in my bed alone, tired and in the dark. It was still nighttime and my mind was foggy with fatigue. It took a moment for me to remember what I'd just dreamed. And then it hit me.

I liked my brother's fiancé.

#wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen imagine #elizabeth olsen #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu

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randomnameless · 1 year ago

Text

Oh?

That's weird, because I remember I killed them (Flayn died after Caspar pummeled her to death!), and the even have voiced lines/cries when they die.

Maybe if you engaged them with Byleth at least once, even if he isn't the one to deal the "final blow" they retreat?

About Edel's paralogue :

Yep all around, the Alliance is either in shambles (even when she said she wouldn't touch the city! TFW you're invading a place, they try to resist, and then they don't have enough manpower to defend their place against Almyrans) or straights up refuse to work with the Empire, and would prefer to see Almyra invade than to let their lands to the Empire (I don't remember if people reacted to Almyran navy helping Claude in Derdriu, but apparently everyone loved him in the Alliance so, maybe they even warmed up to Almyrans?), but we will never know.

Given how much Holst is characterised by his love for his sister, it's a good possibility lol.

Edel thinks she can get along with Almyra because they don't believe in the Goddess, but they never raided Fodlan because Fodlan's beliefs in the Goddess bothered them, they raided for funsies. So... It's up to you to imagine what would happen in a post CF-Fodlan, but I'm pretty sure Almyra is going to knock at her door.

Thales recovers his shinies!

Hubert was, imo, the best part of CF. It seems only he knows what is going on or what is this route about, and we love him for that. Granted, the "TWISTD" name is his own invention, and the game brainfarted a big time when Rhea and Seteth calls them like that, instead of using their real name, the Agarthans. I know the devs said they don't have a continuity guy, but this felt like it should have been important! Imo, it's as grievous as a Kurthnaga who would call Skrimir a "subhuman"... In both cases, it doesn't make any sense.

But back to Hubert and the Agarthans, the games seems to try to tell us that Hubert is the one who tries to know more about their tech (maybe to appropriate it?) and ultimately tries to have more knowledge about them, to properly eliminate them once the war is over. Note how Hubert calls it House Vestra's war/task, aka the Empire and the Hresvelg can crush the geckos and their Church, but dealing with the genocidal maniacs with advanced tech falls on his shoulders. What would Adrestia do without Hubert?

As for the "Regent" stuff, I'd say it's another oversight of the devs, as sad as it sounds...

Riegan and Blaiddyd having bloodties isn't as strange as it sounds, maybe they're only talking about the Houses, and, idk, one Elite Blaiddyd's great grandkid maybe married one of Elite Riegan's great grandkid, and they shared a bloodline thanks to the resulting child? I always felt weird how Fodlan completely ignored bloodlines and marriage between families and the resulting crest lottery when it spends a lot of time talking about crests... but this isn't Jugdral.

I don't remember that thing about Zoltan's idol, but it's a nice detail!

Yep, Petra is in a difficult situation - Brigid is the vassal of the Empire, maybe if she proves herself useful Brigid won't be a vassal anymore? This paralogue is noteworthy for being different in CF and in the other routes - in the other routes, it's Hubert who acts as the boss, and he is here to "ask" Brigid to participate in the War iirc, when Petra is fighting against Adrestia.

Aah, the turtle paralogue!

Did you notice how this is the only map in the game where your units ask you not to bring the Lord and her retainer? Linhardt says it would make things difficult, but, well, you'll see by yourself, I think he was kind of right here, if Edel or Hubert saw Indech, they would have turned him in turtle soup - after all, he is a Nabatean !

In the story map, if you didn't recruit her, Shamir also dies here (she is accompanying Alois) and mentions in her death quote how she shouldn't have been too attached...

I think later on Lin wonders about it too, and the game never bothers giving an answer, but seriously, if Rhea was routing Randolf and Ladislava, why couldn't she transform in her draconic form and Hyperbeam our party, thus ending the War?

Istg, CF's plot armor is the sturdiest one out of all routes...

This awful nightmare month had FOUR paralogues. So tiring. And they don't even let me kill Flayn or Seteth! Or let me see Rhea murdering those two NPC imperial suckups. Disappointing all around.

To get my notes under the char limit, I'll put the part about the first paralogue here.

Immediately after Claude's death/deportation, we get invaded by Almyra. Holst "fell ill" but big doubt.jpg, since he does not show his face to either Hubert or Edelgard (Hubert can only comment that "it's said" that Holst looks and smells awful). The Alliance supposedly can't cooperate enough to muster forces to support the Locket, even though we just spent lots of time playing up how Claude maneuvered everything to go down with the least amount of damage possible and how the Alliance has been extremely peaceful and cooperative to our occupation and invasion. The Goneril soldiers book it immediately when we arrive, no green units for us. And at the end, Holst politely passes the duty of guarding the Locket to the Empire. Which is another way of saying he refused to do it anymore, possibly on account of the dead little sister. You know, just maybe.

This is hilarious in general, and you can read all kinds of funny things into it, especially since this is the route where the game lies to you all the time with a straight face, so you are free to interpret practically all things you're told as complete bullshit (and you'll be provably right at least half the time).

Personally, I think it's very funny to assume everyone who says the Alliance occupation is going oh so well is either wrong or lying. I mean, sure, Claude supposedly arranged it so things would go peacefully whether he won or lost, BUT he was wrong at least twice about his allies surrendering peaceably and his dying words are about how he misread the entire situation. Yeah, logically this is all structured to contrast how the Kingdom and the Church won't go down as peacefully, but it's funnier if the Alliance is also not peaceful about this at all.

Almyra certainly is not looking like a future friendly neighbor, despite Edie's optimistic outlook.

Live blogging:

Hubert reports that Thales has started collecting the Relics from the Alliance (cool! definitely not a problem! Hilda wasn't casually able to oneshot everyone with that awful axe!)

He also suggests that we have one of our Lions recruits pretend to be a hostage to force their family to betray the Kingdom. Lovely man, so practical.

Byleth: you're using too many Proper Nouns, I can't keep tracks :( Edelgard: don't worry about it, kitten

Nader's in good spirits, at least. The Almyran forces have a lot of wyverns, mounted archers and also giant birds.

Edelgard thinks we can befriend Almyra, she would even consider a treaty. It's not a land ruled by blind fealty to the goddess (lol), so as long as communicate openly and respect the differences between our cultures... OK. We're not gonna mention Claude at all, which is funny.

Next paralogue! Hubie is investigating Solon, Kronya and Arundel. He wants to know their identities, their origins, their numbers, their base of operations, their plans, and where they acquired their dark powers, how they disguise themselves. He calls them "those who slither in the dark."

Now, working backwards from this, it means that he doesn't know these things in early war phase (where we are now), unless we assume he got further in his investigations in other routes.

Also, as has been pointed out, although this is a descriptive name that Hubert came up with, it's also used by Rhea for some reason.

It's a shame that Arundel is just Thales, he has a pretty nice design.

Hubert calls Arundel "Regent" even now. Weird!

We're sent to help some Agarthans who were experimenting in the Sealed Forest but their demonic beast subjects ran wild. Hubert later suggests that this was all a setup to make Edie's faction feel powerless in the face of the Agarthans' experiment (because they are aware Hubert is investigating them), but it backfired because Hubie isn't intimidated at all. He's looking forward to when Edelgard finished uniting Fodlan, and then House Vestra will fight the Agarthans in the shadows. (Hilarious from a narrative standpoint.)

Incidentally, you only need to save more than half the mages to get Arrow of Indra. The "Mysterious Mages" that you save also do not have Agarthan Technology abilities unlike the shapeshifters. Ladislava is popular with the citizens of the empire. She doesn't put up airs, is talented and also beautiful. She's known as the Scarlet Warrior.

There isn't much unrest in the former Alliance territories, perhaps thanks to Caspar's dad's strength (aka keeping them in line by force).

Riegan was once a branch family of Blaiddyd, which is very mysterious given their different crests.

Ladislava's troops depart at the end of the month (February) to the western front. They have high mobility. iirc she's a wyvern rider.

It's a bit funny to get the quest for the Almyran merchant same month as the Almyra invasion paralogue.

Claude told Lysithea roughly that she shouldn't focus too much on whether they win. Unlike Judith and Hilda, she listened lol.

Hubert hanging out in the Deer classroom, thinking about Claude. Relatable. He says that Claude has a compassionate exterior, but underneath is cold and calculating. Harsh! Also, not really in line with Claude's behavior toward his allies.

Linhardt says that there's a passage from the Holy Mausoleum to the Holy Tomb, but he can't figure out the mechanism. It's not really clear where the Holy Tomb is, and I've seen the speculation that it's under the amiibo gazebo... but the Holy Mausoleum is in the cathedral, so the two being connected... it's possible both are true, but kinda weird if so.

Dorothea: They'll write operas about this... I'm sure a pretty actress will play you :) And Edie :)) Maybe they'll throw in a love story :)))) hahaha (extremely awkward laugh)

Just realized you steal Zoltan's idol from the advisory room in the cathedral. Nice.

Hubert and Edie A: He emphasizes again that he's devoted to her due to personal feelings but also that he's not loyal in the sense of following her orders. He does what he thinks is best and if Edie disagrees, or doesn't like it, or is kept in the dark for her own good, well, that's how it is. He also mentions that his devotion became personal after Edie returned from the Kingdom, which calls back to how he and Ionius treat it as some kind of malicious kidnapping.

Petra paralogue: Church is threatening Brigid :( Well, per the Empire's perspective. Catherine is here <3

Jokes aside, Petra's perspective is interesting. Brigid is trapped between the Empire and Dagda, and they don't have the ability to stand against either one. They were dragged into war with the Empire by Dagda, which they then lost, and Petra's father was even killed. So they became a vassal state of the Empire, but given the whole racism issue, they probably were not in a good position. So Petra is focused on basically proving that Brigid is a useful and valuable ally for the Empire. Which is a rather practical approach.

Leonie paralogue... Interesting details that you need recommendations to get into Officers Academy. In the Alliance this means paying nobles to get them. Raphael mentions that his family sold their business to pay for him, iirc, since he wasn't up to running it anyway. Ignatz's parents are more successful, so perhaps they could just afford it. Leonie's entire village had to chip in to buy her way in. Presumably Ashe was sent by Lonato directly (though interesting choice given that the uprising happens very early in the year, so he must have already been planning it). I think the only other commoner is Dorothea, who... well.

Linhardt brings up the crests perpetuate the nobility angle and says to take it up with the Goddess for handing them out like that. But given where Leicester crests actually came from... sigh

Linhardt read about the legend of Saint Indech, so it's free real estate for any other character to read in an AU. Very nice.

Lake Teutates... Indech is a giant turtle. Man, these "dragons" are all kinds of shapes lmao. He attacks with water spikes.

Leonie calls the Immovable One a "magic beast" which we haven't seen so far, only wild beasts and demonic beasts.

Linhardt immediately caught on that the Immovable One is Saint Indech.

Petra has been in Fodlan for 9 years as of the war phase, so she came 3 years before the Academy.

Garreg Mach can be entered from the north by following Aillel, the Valley of Torment.

The map this time is a modified version of the monastery defense map from end of Academy Phase and second battle of the other routes. Previously, I didn't realize that the right hand third is gone. Presumably, this is the gorge that Byleth fell into...

We're fighting an expeditionary force led by Alois, while Rhea and Catherine hold off the rest of our army at the Sealed Forest. Aaah, they're so cool <3 They're also set up an ambush.

OK, so the situation with Flayn and Seteth is that they just retreat when defeated, regardless of who fights them. I thought there would be some scene about specifically sparing them, but nah. They just leave on their own. You don't even have any unique dialogue with Seteth, and Flayn just talks about how she won't kill you since she owes you her life.

Rhea murdered the heck out of Ladislava and Randolph off-screen. Shame, I would have loved to see it.

We killed Alois tho! He felt that, since we betrayed Rhea, Jeralt would not have approved.

#kyogre-blue #FE16 #Thales only collects the shinies he lent to humans a long time ago #The Alliance was only a stepping stone and you're not supposed to think about it #but yeah given how Leopold aka the strongest man in Adrestia has to be there to 'assure order' in the newly conquered lands #the lack of participation of Alliance lords against Almyra and all #this isn't a smooth occupation

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yououui · 4 years ago

Note

"Why is it so damn difficult for you to believe you're worthy of love?" but it's Kurogane saying it to Fai because we all know who the one that needs therapy is in that duo lol

They are given the luxury of time in Clow following the battle. A few days to rest and recover, to look back on what has transpired and consider what should be done moving forward. Syaoran spends almost every moment with Sakura, as is to be expected. Kurogane finds his time filled with Fai at his side; each morning, a knock at his door marks the start of a new day as the mage comes to fetch him. They take their meals together, wander the town and the castle together, visit the medics for checks and fresh bandages together. At the end of each night, they share some of Clow’s sweet wine and then part ways for their own beds.

Mokona usually hops between the two pairs depending on how she’s feeling that day, but she usually sleeps curled against Sakura’s neck.

They spend this evening on the balcony of Kurogane’s room. Kurogane’s weight is leaning against the thick stone safety railing and Fai is sat precariously atop said railing. Kurogane would have barked at him to get down, but he knew that Fai would easily be able to save himself if he happened to fall.

“Syaoran is going to have to leave soon,” Fai murmurs, eyes watching a lone, drifting cloud. “Time is ticking.”

“Hn.” Kurogane grunts in response as he takes a drink. “And what’re you gonna do?”

“I was thinking I’d join Syaoran-kun, if he’ll take me,” Fai responded. “It would break my heart if he had to do this on his own. And it’s not like I have anywhere else to go!”

Fai laughs as if the depressing statement is a joke. He’s tense, Kurogane notices, the topic of conversation painting a plastic smile on his face. Kurogane wants to tell him to knock it off. The sight of it makes something crawl under his skin.

“And Kuro-sama?” Fai asks, his gaze turning to the ninja. “You’ll return to Nihon, right? Tomoyo-chan must be thrilled you’re finally returning.”

Kurogane clears his throat before responding, “No, actually. I contacted her last night. I’m gonna join the kid, too.”

Fai’s rehearsed smile falls for a brief moment as he’s struck with surprise instead. His eyes shine impressively even under the dark sky until he shuts them with a laugh. “I would have thought Kuro-sama would run home as soon as he could, but Syaoran-kun will be so happy!”

Kurogane doesn’t ask the question lingering on his tongue—and Fai? How does he feel about it?

Kurogane clears his throat again—there’s nothing stuck in it but it’s tight for some reason as he continues on the topic. “It’s not like it’ll last forever. I’ll go back to Nihon when we get those two idiots back and I can give them a proper punishment for worrying us.” Fai’s smile softens as Kurogane speaks, the first vestiges of something real as he chuckles quietly to himself. Kurogane continues, “And… y’know if you wanna settle down somewhere when it’s all over… you can always come back to Nihon with me.”

“...Eh?” The surprised look is back on the mage’s face, his smile frozen from the pure shock of the question. He laughs nervously for a moment and looks away from Kurogane as he processes the question. “To Nihon? D-Did Tomoyo-chan say she has a job for me?”

Kurogane’s brows furrow with a frown. “No. I mean, I dunno. There might be a job you can do, but it’s not like you’d need one. Tomoyo and the Empress wouldn’t kick you out, anyway, and besides. I can work enough to cover you.”

“M-My, is there something in the wine?” Fai is laughing again, forced and awkward like he doesn’t know what else to do or say. “You’re making yourself sound like an old-fashioned father—I didn’t know Kuro-sama could make such jokes!”

“I’m not joking, you idiot,” Kurogane tells him, frustration rising hot in his blood at Fai’s adamant refusal to accept what Kurogane is telling him. “What’s so hard to believe about taking care of someone you love?”

There’s a pause, a moment when even the air around them seems to still along with Fai’s breath. “...Love?” It’s a quiet murmur, more to himself than anything, spoken like a child hearing an unknown word for the first time.

Kurogane’s frustration dissipates in an instant, his shoulders falling with a sigh. “Yes, you idiot. Love.” He should have known better than to assume Fai’s strongly built defenses would fall so quickly, even if the mage was trying. Kurogane has been honest with his feelings for such a long time now, he didn’t think there was a way Fai couldn’t see it. But if Fai, in his self-taught method of avoidance, refused to see it, there was no other choice than to say it outright.

Fai silently turned and pushed himself off the balcony railing to fall silently to his feet. He cradled his glass of wine close to his chest, like it could act as a shield somehow. “K-Kuro-sama shouldn’t tease me so much.”

The forced happy tone from before has disappeared. Now, he sounds properly hurt, his voice trembling as if on the edge of tears. He begins to leave and Kurogane catches him by the arm to stop him.

“Oi, what the hell have I done recently to make you think I’m lying?” He asks Fai. “You think chopping off my own arm was my way of teasing you?”

Fai’s eyes—two again, and Kurogane didn’t know how much he loved the color blue until that moment—widen as guilt sweeps over him. “I-I didn’t—” He lowers his head as if in shame. “I didn’t… mean it like that…”

Because of course Fai had to know, no matter how much his toxic thoughts tried to tell him otherwise, that Kurogane at least cared for him. No person would willingly give up their own blood and tie them together for life, nor cut through their own flesh and bone without another thought without at least some bit of concern and attachment. And Fai would always feel guilty for those decisions, even if Kurogane was adamant that they were his choice and he would make them again.

“After everything,” Kurogane releases Fai’s arm to tap his knuckle against the underside of Fai’s chin, gently getting him to lift his head. “Why is it still so damn difficult for you to believe you’re worthy of love?” Kurogane asks, voice so soft and mushy it surprises even himself. He can’t help it though, nor can he bring himself to care. Not now. Not with Fai.

Something teeters over the edge within Fai and his eyes immediately fill with tears. Although Kurogane never wants to see the way his lips tremble before parting with a much needed sob, he will always prefer the open honesty over the fake smile. Kurogane wraps his one arm around Fai and lets the mage have his much needed cry, slender fingers grasping desperately at the front of Kurogane’s shirt as tears stain the fabric.

“Come back to Nihon with me, mage,” Kurogane says, whispers into Fai’s hair like a secret kiss. “When it’s all over, come with me.”

Fai is rendered speechless for a long while, his throat tight and words interrupted with gasping, cathartic sobs that are sometimes mixed with unabashed, joyous laughter. He nods in immediate agreement. Kurogane only holds him closer.

#kurofai

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mercy-burning · 4 years ago

Text

Payback

Summary: After Reader surprises Spencer at a BAU holiday party, he can’t stop thinking about her. Category: Fluff Word Count: 4.2k NOTE: This is my first little fic, I’ve had this idea for a while now and I’ve always wanted to write it, so please let me know what you think! I hope you like it! And if there’s anything I should include in the before/summaries of my stuff in the future, please let me know! I’d love to write more but I’m not sure what everyone wants to see. Thank you!

***

He could still taste peppermint. It's been 8 days and still, every time his lips press together, Spencer swears he can taste her peppermint lip gloss coating them. It's all he's been able to think about as of late.

And no sooner than he could taste her lips, he could see her face, the way her eyes had glimmered after just a glass of champagne, amused and proud of her actions. He tried not to think about how dumbfounded he must have looked, completely frozen and practically unable to function properly, let alone at all. His mind betrayed him, though only for a second before he focused on the way she'd lovingly patted his cheek and whispered, "There you go," before pressing her lips together and turning away.

The whole ordeal had only lasted no longer than five seconds, but to Spencer it had felt like a lifetime. Time had slowed to a stop and refused to move forward the very moment she grabbed his face.

Truth be told, he should have seen it coming. For years since Y/N had joined the BAU, his friends had teased him relentlessly about her. More specifically, Morgan had caught him staring at her from across the jet once upon a time, her first case with the team, and when she'd looked up and smiled at Spencer, causing him to give a small wave and immediately avert his gaze, Morgan laughed from beside him and stated, "You couldn't be more obvious if you tried, Pretty Boy."

Emily and Rossi, who were seated across from them, didn't even have to turn around to know what was happening, and the shared a knowing smile before Hotch had returned from the bathroom and started debriefing.

Spencer had tried to play it cool at first, blowing off his friends' teasing remarks and sometimes crude gestures, but deep down he knew they were all right. And if they were able to see just how badly he liked Y/N, then it was probably no secret that she'd been able to tell as well. The thought made him nervous, but in the three years since he and Y/N had come to be better friends, he'd gotten more comfortable and a little (but not by much) less blush-prone when she paid him a smile or occasionally brushed her hand against his.

Nonetheless, the teasing from the rest of the team had slowed significantly, though it hadn't entirely stopped. Every time they all got together for a dinner at Rossi's or a party for the holidays, Y/N got dressed up, and every time without fail Spencer couldn't help but admire her beauty. Of course he'd found her beautiful all the time, but there was something about the way she held herself during these events, almost like she knew she was the most stunning person in the room, that drove him crazy, and even intimidated him a little. (She's way out of my league, he'd thought to himself once.)

And every single time, either Morgan or Garcia, or pretty much anyone else, but those two specifically, would try to get him to talk to her, to ask her on a date, or to just flirt with her. But, as usual, Spencer brushed it off, and each night he would go the entire time without taking his friends' advice, much to their chagrin.

Sometimes he wished he had, that he was brave enough to say something to her, anything beyond the usual, "you look nice" before quickly changing the subject. And a few times he almost came close, but some small part of his conscience told him that she wouldn't reciprocate. That he was too weird and that she was too good for him. And then he would chastise himself for even thinking that he would have a shot, and he'd have to live with the fact that he would just be teased by his friends forever about this perfect woman that he would never have the courage to come clean to.

But all the same, he was just naïve enough to believe that he could get away that one night without any trouble.

It was the day before Christmas Eve, and Rossi had generously decided to host a small get-together before everyone would be with their families for the holidays. As usual his place was beautiful, but even more so with all the twinkling lights and garland.

The team was shuffling around the kitchen, talking amongst themselves and drinking their drinks of choice, when Y/N appeared next to Spencer, a glass of champagne in hand.

And just like every time before, he felt his heart tug at his chest as he looked at her, so close to him he could smell her perfume and feel her warmth. She wore an emerald green dress that stopped below her knees, the sleeves long and the neckline plunging down to the top of her stomach in a deep V-shape. Four thin, glittery strips of silver attached the two sides of the V together, getting smaller as they went down. Her hair was worn up, a high pony tail that tumbled in curls down the back of her head, a few strands curled and framing the sides of her face. Her eyelids glittered red and her lips were sheer and shimmering.

She practically sparkled as she spoke to him, a beacon of elegance and beauty, and it took everything inside of Spencer to resist grabbing her face and kissing her in front of all their friends.

She finished her glass of champagne as he was telling her about his holiday plans, setting the glass on the table in front of her before a squeal—no doubt from Garcia—cut him off, mostly out of concern.

"What is it?" Y/N asked for him.

Morgan and Emily came strolling up to see what the commotion was about before they laughed and fist-bumped.

"What?" Spencer repeated, thoroughly confused.

Rossi came up to join, nodding as he raised his drink. "Ah, the magic of mistletoe."

"Look up," Garcia added, pointing to the ceiling above where Spencer and Y/N were standing.

Sure enough, mistletoe was hanging above them, and though he knew what that meant, his first instinct was to talk.

"You know, the Druids came to view mistletoe as a symbol of liveliness due to the fact that it could blossom even during wintertime. In hopes of restoring fertility they would administer it to humans, and even animals."

He refused to look at Y/N. He couldn't. He knew that the second he did, he'd give himself away, if he hadn't already before. And just as he was about to spit out more facts about mistletoe, he felt time slow down.

The words caught in his throat, dissipated, and replaced themselves with the smallest of whimpers. He hoped to God she wouldn’t hear it, for fear of giving himself away even further.

Instead he froze, completely shell-shocked when Y/N reached over, grabbed his face in her hands, and turned it to meet hers, taking no time at all to press her lips against his in a burning kiss. At least, that's how it felt for him.

He wasn't sure how she was feeling, but in that moment he could only think about how his entire being burned at her touch. And though she only kissed him for no longer than three seconds, keeping the entire thing short and sweet, the taste of her peppermint flavored lip gloss lingering on his lips, the way she looked at him, and the way she patted his cheek and the way she whispered, "There you go," before turning away and taking her empty glass with her... All of it was enough to make Spencer feel like he'd just experienced Heaven itself.

She was the actual human embodiment of Heaven, he was sure of it.

So by the time he'd recovered from his haze and found it in himself to breathe again, Spencer went back to pretending he wasn't phased, because after all he was in a room with all his friends who knew better, and the more he could keep pretending, the less he would be left to think about how Y/N had completely shaken him to his core.

But now it's the night before New Year's Eve, and he'd been thinking for days now how to deal with this. Because every time she'd looked at him since then, every time she'd say his name or playfully wink at him, it drove him mad. He closed his eyes and there she was, in all her shimmering, heavenly glory, taking up every thought, every ounce of being he had to offer. She owned him and she didn't even know it.

Or maybe she did.

There was one day, December 28th to be precise, when he swore she was messing with him, gauging his reaction. First of all, she'd worn a skirt to work, which she barely ever did, not to mention it was cold and snowy, and hardly the right weather to comfortably wear one, and a tight one at that. And Y/N seemed to be particularly and unusually clumsy that day, because she'd conveniently dropped her pen in front of Spencer's desk, or accidentally spilled water on her white shirt, exposing some of her bra. And every single time, She'd looked up to see him staring at her, as he'd never been able to resist doing.

The way she talked to him was different, too, her voice almost lullaby-like. And when she'd ask a question about something she clearly knew, she bit her lip immediately afterwards, her head tilted down and her eyes fluttered up, almost like she was embarrassed to ask for help.

By the end of the day Spencer was exhausted, not to mention still overwhelmed and completely burned by her presence. And it didn't help that everyone else around him knew what was happening. The teasing then was just as relentless as it had been the first week Y/N started working with them, made worse by the fact that she'd kissed him and left him absolutely ruined.

He had to do something, or he was sure he wouldn't survive.

***

Even though the team had just been together for Christmas, once again they all found themselves gathered around a fancy setting for New Year's.

This time Y/N decided she wanted to host, since none of the team have ever been to her house. In the three years since she'd worked with them, she figured it would be a good way to ring in the new year.

Her house wasn't as big or extravagant as Rossi's—no one's was, really—but she'd made do with what elegance she had to offer.

Even though everyone was bringing a small dish to eat, Y/N wanted to go all out. So, she decided to bake two pecan pies and a chocolate chip banana bread, all that culinary training throughout her first two years of college not entirely going to waste. She'd even made complimentary cupcakes for the team, each one flavored and decorated uniquely to each new friend she'd made from her time at the BAU, their names piped on every one with icing.

For Garcia, she made a vegan lemon blueberry cupcake frosted with a homemade vegan whipped cream, complete with a little glitter and 'penny' piped in pink.

For Derek, a peanut butter mocha cupcake with chocolate frosting and decorated with gold glitter and peanut butter chips, his name piped in white.

For Emily, a red velvet with vanilla buttercream and a ring of red and white marbled frosting around it, her name piped in red.

For JJ, a chocolate cupcake filled with raspberry coulis and topped with dark chocolate buttercream, silver pearls making a circle around the outside and her name piped in pink.

Hotch's cupcake was a chocolate with coconut frosting and 'Hotch' piped in vibrant blue, along with some swirled patterns around the edges.

Rossi's was her favorite to make, simply because it was so out of the box. It was a chocolate cupcake filled and topped with maple whipped cream, sprinkled with chopped up, caramelized bacon. She hoped he'd like it, but just in case it was too unconventional, she whipped up extra cupcakes of each. That way everyone could also try different ones if they wanted.

And that left Spencer.

The whole week leading up to the party, Y/N was concocting her recipes, trying to figure out which flavors everyone would like the best. She knew that Spencer would gladly take anything she'd given him, but after the Christmas party, she wanted to give him something to remember.

Truth be told, she wasn't even going to kiss him that night. She was more than happy to let him go on about mistletoe in an attempt to avoid what everyone else so desperately wanted them to do, but right before he finished his first fact, Emily glanced at Y/N and nodded her head, mouthing "do it".

And in a split second decision, she decided screw it.

And then she kissed him.

Though Y/N wasn't sure how he would feel before she did it, she could tell almost immediately when she did that he'd wanted something like that to happen for a while, because he practically whined against her mouth. She felt it more than heard it, it was so small, but there was no mistaking that it had happened, only confirmed by the fact that he slightly leaned into her once it was happening.

And then she pulled away, and she could have swore he tried to chase after her, not wanting it to end. But shock won over, because he opened his eyes and they were as wide as she'd ever seen them, his lips parted and shimmering faintly from where her lip gloss had transferred.

Y/N didn't want him to know that she could hardly breathe, seeing him like that, feeling him embrace her action, so she'd quickly brushed it off, patted his cheek and whispered, "There you go".

In hindsight, she wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say. All the things she could have told him in the moment, and "There you go" is what came out? Really?

So she picked up her empty glass as the team laughed and clapped, putting distance between everyone to get more champagne and compose the rapid beating of her heart.

She went home that night and thought about Spencer. Naturally. She tried not to think about the small part of her brain that said he was only shocked because it was unexpected and not because he wanted her. Instead, she tried to recall every interaction they'd had together, wondering how she could have missed the obvious.

There'd been countless times where Y/N had caught him staring at her, only for him to look away and pretend like he hadn't been... And to think, every time she just thought maybe she'd had something stuck in her teeth or a stain on her shirt. She just had to think something was wrong, when in fact, everything was perfectly fine.

So she decided that after everyone went back to work, she'd test it out.

One tight skirt and a few 'accidental' mishaps later, Y/N was sure.

And so, as she laid out the cupcakes on the table, Y/N put Spencer's in the middle. It was a vanilla bean cupcake, filled with peppermint whipped cream and crushed candy canes. The peppermint whipped cream was piped on the top as well, and she topped it off with a silver shine and his last name piped in red cursive lettering. On the outside you couldn't tell it was peppermint, but he'd sure taste it. And Y/N couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he did.

Everyone started to arrive shortly after Y/N finished getting dressed. She decided on a sleeveless black velvet dress with a high neckline that fit snugly around her throat. It was tight and ended just above the knee, accentuating just about everything. She put her hair up in the same high ponytail as the Christmas party, though rather than curled, it was straight. Her makeup was simple, a little silver eyeshadow, black eyeliner, and red lipstick.

She'd just put in the second hoop earring when her doorbell rang. Y/N slipped on her black heels by the front door and opened it to find almost everyone there.

"Y/N!" Garcia's exuberance was the first thing she heard, and then she hugged her.

"Hey, guys, welcome!" she exclaimed with a smile as everyone filed in through the door, hugging her as they went on by.

"Morgan and Reid are on their way," Rossi said, handing her a bottle of wine. Blackberry merlot, her favorite.

"Man, it smells great in here," Emily noted, setting her jacket on the hook behind the door.

"Yeah, I might have went a little overboard and made everyone their own cupcakes," Y/N said. "And banana bread... and two pecan pies."

"Cupcakes?" Garcia inquired, almost devilishly.

Everyone laughed, and Y/N led the way to the dining room, where she had everything set up. In front was everyone's cupcakes lined up in a row, behind them the banana bread and the two pies on either side of it.

"Y/N, these look incredible!" JJ complimented. Everyone else agreed in unison, and it warmed Y/N's heart.

"Thanks guys. I made a few of each just in case you weren't happy with your cupcake. But you're free to have them now if you want." So she handed everyone their assigned cupcakes, explaining each of their contents and seeing their faces light up, save for Reid and Morgan, who still had yet to arrive.

And as if on cue, the doorbell rang again, and Y/N's heart almost jumped out of her chest.

"I'll go bring these out to them," she said, grabbing the remaining cupcakes and leaving her friends to enjoy.

Derek was at the door first, smiling as charmingly as ever. "Hey, Miss Thing."

"Hey, yourself," she laughed, opening the door and stepping aside for him to walk through. She handed him his cupcake after he took his coat off, setting it beside everyone else's. "I made everyone complimentary cupcakes. This one's for you. Peanut butter chocolate mocha."

Morgan's eyebrows raised and he smiled, taking the cupcake. "You didn't."

Y/N laughed again, nodding as he took a bite. "You can head inside through there, everyone else is enjoying their own."

He pulled her in for a side hug and muttered a 'thank you' through a mouth full of cupcake, making her laugh harder, before he disappeared into the kitchen.

When Y/N turned around, Spencer was taking off his coat, a smile plastered on his face. "You made cupcakes?"

She tried not to fall apart when she looked at him, his eyes as kind as ever, that smile so intoxicatingly sweet and so incredibly him. She gave him a small once-over, admiring the look he'd gone for, which consisted of black dress pants, a long-sleeved navy button down with the first few buttons opened and a tie hanging loose and open around his neck, revealing some of his chest. He'd opted to leave his hair rather messy, which was more than okay with her. If she hadn't known any better she'd say he'd just woken up, but the style choices seemed deliberate. Regardless, Y/N knew that whatever he'd shown up in would have taken her breath away.

She nodded, trying not to take too long to look him over. She held out her hands, the cupcake sitting in between them both. "Yeah, I did. Here's yours."

"You're not gonna tell me what kind it is?"

She laughed. "You'll just have to eat it and see."

"Well, thank you. It's pretty... You're pretty. Y-you look nice."

Y/N saw him take a breath right before blinking and looking down at the cupcake, peeling the wrapper away, and she almost forgot to say, "Thank you."

But she did.

And then he took a bite of the cupcake.

***

As soon as it passed his lips, Spencer knew. He'd been tasting peppermint all week, and of course that had just been him remembering the taste of her lip gloss before, but now the taste was unmistakably there.

It was the frosting, only faintly peppermint, but just enough to be highlighted against the sweet vanilla of the cupcake. The two flavors in harmony were just as much Heaven as she was.

He would have moved forward and kissed her right then had ne not already had a plan.

So, instead he nodded with a smile, swallowing the bite he'd taken and stepping forward to be closer to her. "It's amazing. Thank you."

He looked down at her, and she looked back up at him, her eyes just as beautiful as they had been the night of the Christmas party.

"You're welcome," she replied softly, eyes drifting to his lips.

Spencer smiled at her before passing her and walking to the kitchen, leaving her behind.

Little did she know, he was practically buzzing from head to toe.

***

The night passed quickly, everyone laughing, having drinks, and happily eating.

It amused Y/N that the vanilla peppermint cupcakes ended up being everyone's favorite by the end of the night. The team had no idea the reasoning behind the specific flavor, and she almost had to wonder what they'd say if they did know.

Though, she wasn't sure it mattered. Because Spencer had pretty much ignored her all night. Of course he'd talked to her if they were brought up in conversation together, but he rarely even looked at her, and in the event that he did, it felt purely platonic and unlike every other time before.

Was he ignoring her on purpose? Did he secretly hate the stunt she pulled with the cupcake and decide to punish her for it? Or maybe, she'd merely imagined the chemistry in the first place. It had all been a figment of her imagination, something her mind made up to make up for the fact that she sucked at dating and hadn't had affection from a man in years.

That last one seemed bit of a stretch, but at this point Y/N didn't rule anything out.

Eventually she shifted her focus to having fun with her friends, this found family she'd been happily apart of for three years. It was her first time hosting a get-together at her house, and she was proud to share it with them. In an effort to prove just how much it meant, Y/N made a toast right before midnight. The TV was muted, and she'd unmute it when the ball was ready to drop.

Looking around at all her friends, Y/N smiled gratefully. "I want to start this off by saying how sorry I am that it took me this long to invite you all over to my house. But hopefully I made up for it with all the sweets." A small group of laughter filled the room for a moment before she continued. "And I know New Year's is supposed to be celebrated in hopes of being a better person and bettering yourself in the future, but... I know all of you, so... That's already been taken care of. I love you guys."

"Here, here!" Rossi announced, raising his drink. Everyone else followed suit, and after taking a sip, Y/N unmuted the TV. There was about a minute left until the ball would drop, and it would be a new year.

After filling up her drink one more time, Y/N stood in the back of the living room to take in all of her friends, chatting amongst themselves as they waited for the new year to ring in.

But someone was missing.

Just as she'd thought it, Spencer showed up beside her, and she turned to smile at him. "Hey."

"That was a nice speech," he said, setting his drink down on the table beside him.

You followed suit and nodded. "Thanks. It was kind of cheesy, but..."

"No, I... I think it was sweet."

Y/N wasn't sure what else to say, so she nodded, and looked back at the TV. There was about 20 seconds left, and everyone started counting.

She started counting with them, Spencer still at her side.

"19, 18, 17, 16..."

Before she even knew what was happening, Spencer's hand brushed out against hers. She thought it was an accident, but he'd been moving closer as the seconds rolled by.

But that couldn't be. Because she'd imagined everything before, so why wouldn't she imagine this, too?

"12, 11, 10, 9, 8..."

His heart was beating so fast in his chest, he could have sworn everyone around would be able to hear it. Time was running out, and he knew that he couldn't chicken out this time. Morgan had even spent all afternoon and the entire car ride here helping him figure out how to do it properly. And if he backed out then the teasing would be relentless.

"4, 3, 2, 1..."

The second Y/N finished chanting the final number, she felt a pair of hands grab her face.

And then Spencer's mouth was on hers, even better than it'd been before. Only this time, she kept him close to her when he tried to pull away. But he was happy to oblige, and they stayed like that, lips pressed together and hands caressing each others' faces. Maybe their friends were watching them, and maybe they weren't. It didn't matter. Nothing else mattered but that kiss.

Y/N pulled away first, though she kept her forehead pressed against his. She opened her eyes and saw him looking at her, everything falling into place.

"What was that for?" she asked softly, though she didn't actually care.

"Payback," was his answer, plain and simple.

She rolled her eyes lovingly and then pressed another small, sweet kiss to his lips before they broke apart completely, and then she laughed.

"What?" Spencer asked.

Y/N ran her tongue over her bottom lip before patting his cheek. "You taste like peppermint."

#spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #fluff

485 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 4 years ago

Text

Danger First

Chapter 5

@pocketramblr :3

The day started off well. Really, it did. Izuku got up on time, still filled with warm fuzziness from the time he spent with his friends (friends!) the afternoon before, had a good breakfast, left early enough to catch an earlier train, saw an interesting hero fight, and then...

He was hit with a wave of nausea as he caught sight of the crowd outside UA's gates. Was it a mob? An attack? Terrorists?

... Reporters?

Yeah, those were cameras and microphones. But why was a crowd of reporters making him feel this way?

Maybe they were terrorists disguised as reporters. Or, maybe Izuku had picked up some paranoia to go with his anxiety. How fun.

If they were real reporters, they were probably here about All Might. Him cutting back on active hero work to teach had been big news.

Ughhhh. What should he do? Whoever they were, they weren't likely to leave. He didn't want to walk through them, though. What if they were dangerous? (And even if they weren't, he didn't want reporters looking at him, asking him questions. What would he say to them?)

He bit his lip and watched the crowd from around his chosen corner. Why did he have to be so wimpy and timid? He was a hero student, now. He should be better. Braver.

Oh! There was Iida!

He scuttled over to his friend.

"Ah! Midoriya! You're early today! Few people arrive at school at the same time I do!"

"Y-yeah! I managed to catch the earlier train today, so..." He looked back at the crowd of reporters. Maybe reporters. Maybe terrorists. "I think, maybe we should wait to go in as a group, though. I mean, it'll be more efficient than trying to fight through those reporters one at a time, right?"

"An excellent idea, Midoriya!" exclaimed Iida, waving his hands enthusiastically. "It's very admirable of you, to always be thinking about how to help others."

"W-well," said Izuku, blushing. It wasn't untrue, but it also wasn't the whole story. "I mean, I don't... It's more that they kind of freak me out a bit? The reporters..."

Iida nodded sagely. "There are heroes like that, too. Are you planning on going underground, then?"

There was a certain amount of appeal to underground heroics, but he was supposed to be All Might's successor. Then again, if One for All never worked properly for him and Mr. Yagi asked for it back... Quirk or not, Izuku was here, now, in UA, in the hero course, and Mr. Yagi had said he could be a hero without a quirk.

"I haven't really decided yet. But UA teaches all hero course students the three main branches of heroics, so we don't really have to choose a specialty until later, and even then there are heroes like Sir Nighteye who blur the lines, right?"

"Yes, it's one of the things that make UA such a superior institution!" chortled Monoma.

"Ah, Monoma! I agree! It is important for all heroes to be aware of the work their colleagues do, and to be well-rounded individuals!"

Monoma!?

"Um," said Izuku. "When did you get here?"

"Just a minute ago," said Monoma. "I was looking for a way around these savages when I overheard your conversation. Really, it's a shame that UA allows such rabble to prevent students from entering. If only there was something they could do..."

"I'm afraid I must disagree," said Iida. "Freedom of the press is exceedingly important for the function of society!"

Monoma looked slightly alarmed. "I don't mean to say it isn't, it's just-" he gestured at the gates, "-we can't get in. The other entrances are like this, too. It's aggravating."

"There... might be another way in," said Iida, after a moment.

"Oh?"

"Yes, my brother told me about a hidden entrance that was here when he attended UA. I suppose... I suppose these would be the right circumstances to use it."

"Lead the way, then, Iida," said Monoma.

Iida nodded stiffly. "We should wait and see if any of our classmates would like to come with us."

Several of their classmates did want to come with them, including Uraraka, Asui (who was still a little under the weather), Tokoyami (Dark Shadow was not a fan of flashing lights), and Hagakure. They were also joined by a couple of 1-B students, a cadre of business course kids, and a pink haired support course girl who seemed very interested in Iida's legs, much to his flustered confusion.

Kacchan did not join them, much to Izuku's dismay, instead choosing to bulldoze his way through the ranks of reporters, nearly giving Izuku a heart attack when he body-checked a man with blue-white hair.

At this point, their group was becoming rather large and noticeable, and Iida was getting antsy about the time, so off they went.

Iida led them to what appeared to be an entirely unnoteworthy piece of wall and knocked. There was a pause just long enough to make Iida start to sweat, and then the wall opened, revealing Midnight- Ms. Kayama!

"Oh?" she said, clearly delighted. "Chibiida using the top secret teacher's entrance? Has high school done what we couldn't? Are you finally loosening up?"

Chibiida.

CHIBIIDA.

First: how? Why? Iida was over ten centimeters taller than Izuku! Secondly: Iida was never going to recover from this.

"That- that's not it! At all! I am simply attempting to help my fellow students enter the school without being harassed by reporters, Ms. Kayama!"

"You can still call me big sis Nemuri, you know."

"I refuse! It would be inappropriate of me as a student!"

Ms. Kayama sighed. "Well, you aren't wrong about those reporters. They can be a pain. So, just this once, let me welcome you kids to the forbidden environs of the staff area!" She made a grandiose gesture with her arm. "And it's all thanks to Chibiida here."

Iida started muttering about propriety and rules.

Izuku had the feeling it would be a long day.

"All right, Hikage, in your professional opinion-"

"What does building inspecting have to do with anything?"

"What?" said Nana. "I didn't say anything about building inspecting."

"You asked for my professional opinion."

"Yes?" said Nana, already dreading where this would go.

"I was a vigilante. For the purposes of money, I was a professional, licensed building inspector."

"I thought you were a professional hermit," said En.

"I was an amateur hermit. You don't get paid for that."

En blinked. "I can't believe people let you into their buildings."

"There were a few times-"

Nana decided to table the question of how neither she nor En had known Hikage was a building inspector. "Okay, fine. Forget the professional part. In your opinion, what was going on with that one reporter guy?"

"Oh," said Hikage. "He's definitely planning a murder."

"A murder!" exclaimed Yoichi.

"Yes, and probably of someone close to Ninth."

"Why didn't you say something?" demanded Yoichi, attempting to lift the taller man up by the front of his shirt and failing.

"Because there's not much we can do about it?"

"Just because you're right doesn't mean I have to like it!" He spun on his heel and stalked up to the silent and incomplete ghost of Toshinori. "It had better not be you, do you hear me? Don't you dare pull an Obi-Wan on poor, sweet Izuku!"

"Does anyone know what he's talking about?" asked Nana.

"Not really," admitted Banjo.

"Today," said Mr. Aizawa, after he finished passing out feedback from the battle trial, "you'll pick a class president."

All around Izuku, his classmates threw their hands into the air, eager for the chance to show off their leadership skills.

Izuku kept his hand down. It wasn't that he didn't want to stand out or do the work! It was just... between training after school with Mr. Yagi and Aizawa and trying to get his anxiety under control, he didn't think he'd do a very good job.

Yoichi started disappearing his "Izuku for President" banners.

Iida, though... Iida would do well, Izuku thought. Look at him, organizing everyone into a vote.

"You're not running, Midori?" asked Hagakure.

"N-no, haha, I have too many other commitments to do a good job, I think."

"That's too bad! I would have voted for you."

There was a smattering of agreement, mostly from Iida and Uraraka. Izuku started blushing.

"R-really? Why?"

("Strawberry," someone whispered.)

"Well, you helped me out during the entrance exam, and you were pretty cool during training yesterday." More agreement. "But if you're not running, I guess I'll pick Monoma. He did get rid of the purple creep."

"Ahahaha, yes, I am clearly the superior candidate!" crowed Monoma, standing up and putting his foot on his chair to pose.

"But his personality's really weird, which is why you would have been my first choice, Midoriya."

"I think Iida would be a good choice!" said Uraraka, raising her hand. "He's super organized and he helped a bunch of us get past the reporters this morning."

More general agreement. Then Todoroki cleared his throat. Everyone looked at him.

"Yaoyorozu," he said.

That was it.

"Good point," agreed Jirou.

"A TIE?!"

As the only one who hadn't voted for one of the three in the tie, Aoyama was forced to be the tiebreaker. This was done as dramatically as humanly possible.

Yaoyorozu was now president of class 1-A.

This led to a ferocious battle between Monoma and Iida that Iida won by a single vote. Monoma was promptly chosen as class treasurer. Just in time for their other classes.

"Those who possess forbidden knowledge should stay together," said Tokoyami gravely as he sat down with Uraraka, Iida, and Izuku.

"Are you talking about the staff area?" asked Asui, who slid in after him.

"Indeed," intoned Tokoyami gravely. "The dark path we have all walked-"

"Fumi is just bad at asking people to be his friends!"

"Dark Shadow!"

Izuku almost started crying into his rice. Having friends was so great.

"I'll be your friend!" said Izuku.

"Me, too!" said Uraraka, pumping a fist.

"Ah," said Tokoyami, coughing into a fist. "I am sure we will be great companions in the darkness of the coming days."

Speaking of darkness... Izuku couldn't help but feel uneasy about... something. He had been ever since seeing those reporters.

"So, Midori, is your hair full of secrets?"

"Wh-what?"

"Don't listen to her! She's just being silly! Like a little sister."

"It's what you always say about that actor you like! His hair is fluffy because it's full of secrets!"

"So, you and Dark Shadow are like brother and sister?" asked Midoriya, changing the subject.

The conversation segued into discussion of their families, and just when Iida was extolling the virtues of his older brother, Izuku's unease spiked. He dropped his chopsticks.

"Is something wrong?" asked Uraraka.

"I... don't know? It just feels like something bad is going to-"

The school alarm promptly went off.

"Wow!" said Kirishima. "Iida can do entrances and exits! Manly!"

"Wow," said Banjo, "I guess they picked the right guy for the job, after all. He can find entrances and exits! More than my class vice president ever did..."

"Are you copying the small red child?" asked Hikage.

"What?"

"Never mind."

"Today's heroics class will be focused on how to fall safely and other basic combat techniques. Before we begin, although you may practice these techniques on your own, outside of class, if you want to spar with others, you need adult supervision until you reach a level where I'm satisfied you won't seriously injure yourself or others by mistake. Now, firstly..."

"Mr. Aizawa? Is- um. Was it really just the press breaking in earlier?"

It was time for his first special quirk training with Aizawa, and he should be asking what they were doing today (especially since Aizawa had him change out of his gym uniform and back to his regular uniform), but he couldn't stop thinking about the break-in.

"What makes you think otherwise?"

"I'm, well, I'm not sure? I just, this morning, when I saw them, I got a really bad feeling? Like something bad was going to happen. And it doesn't seem, um, logical, that normal reporters would be able to do that to UA's gate. I mean, anyone can have any quirk- no such thing as a villainous quirk. But someone with a quirk like that, they'd put a lot of effort into controlling it and stuff so stuff like this wouldn't happen by mistake. I guess a reporter could have done it on purpose, though, but then it'd be really easy for UA to find out it was them, wouldn't it? Or the police. Since heroes and police have access to the national quirk registry, so you just have to cross-reference reporters with the registry to find quirks that could fit. But would they know that? Anyway, it seems more logical for a third party to have used the press as cover to infiltrate the school. But why? If nothing is missing and no one is hurt, which would be grounds for school being canceled, the next conclusion would be information gathering. But that still leaves the question of the ultimate ends- Mr. Aizawa? Are you okay?"

His teacher had been glaring at a camera mounted in the corner of the classroom and mouthing things at it.

"I'm fine," said Aizawa. He sighed. "You are right that we haven't located the person who destroyed the gates, but please be assured that we are investigating the incident throughly. Especially Principal Nezu." He shot another glare at the camera, as if to say he'd better be.

"Regardless, it isn't something you need to worry about as a student. We're adding more safety protocols to make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Oh, okay. S-so, what are we doing today? Sensory deprivation? Electric shocks? Stress positions? Bean bag barrage for dodging? High stakes hell exam?" He was ready for anything and very excited.

Aizawa stared at him flatly. "We're... doing quirk counseling."

"Yes?"

"Kid... except for maybe the last one... what exactly gave you the idea that any of those things had anything to do with quirk counseling?"

Izuku started to get the feeling he'd seriously messed up. Except he didn't feel particularly anxious about it.

"Oh, uh, Mom used to get brochures like that in the mail, after I was diagnosed? She didn't ever answer any, but... Apparently, some people originally thought to be quirkless got quirks after being in a high stress situation."

"But no one actually did any of those things to you."

"Not really?"

"Midoriya..."

Izuku looked away. He shouldn't have said anything. He didn't like the quirk counselor at Eisley Elementary, but he didn't want to get her in trouble, either. After all, he was the only one she had to do that stuff with, since his quirk hadn't shown up...

Aizawa sighed with the air of someone exercising a lot of self-control. "Except for that last one," said Aizawa, "and that's debatable, all of those are torture techniques."

Ah. Well. That maybe explained a few things.

"They are not a normal part of quirk counseling. At some point, we may incorporate some combat into this, but that will be to help you become more familiar with your quirk. Not just for the sake of making you stressed."

"But if we aren't doing combat, what are we doing?"

"Well, first we're going to try to figure out what your quirk is. Why don't you sit down." He took out some papers as Izuku made his way to his desk. "Alright. I'm going to go through these questions and write down your answers... then we're going to go through them again while I'm canceling your quirk." He paused. "Actually, first. What did you mean when you said you had a bad feeling about the reporters?"

"If I were alive," said Yoichi, "I would be committing so much murder right now."

"I thought we left this behind when Ninth graduated," said Nana. "I thought you said you were going to forgive them because they were stupid kids and Ninth forgave them."

"Well, first off, I lied. Secondly, teachers aren't kids. If we ever get hit by a quirk that brings us back to life, the quirk counselor at his old school will be my first victim."

Nana sighed. "That isn't going to happen."

"Who's going to stop me?"

"Less a who, and more the fact that there has never been a quirk that could revive the dead."

"Meaningless!" exclaimed Yoichi. "Death cannot stop me!"

"Think he's finally lost it after all this time?" asked En, leaning towards Nana.

"No, I think he's just messing with us," hoped Nana.

"Alright, kid," said Aizawa exhaustion evident in his tone. "Between your answers, your exam results, the battle trial results, how you react when I use my quirk on you, and Monoma's assessment... Your quirk is at least partially sensory.",

Izuku tried not to feel disappointed, but that seemed rather incomplete as a conclusion. Even though he knew about Danger Sense and this probably was Danger Sense.

"Yeah, I know, it's underwhelming, but remember this is the first session. Whatever your quirk actually does, though, you seem to be using it to detect threats."

Okay, that was more in line with expectations.

"I mean... maybe? I think so. That feels right."

"We also need to figure out what it's stockpiling. Have you ever felt any particular draw to certain situations? More than your peers?"

"Um. I watch a lot of hero fights?"

"You're a fight chaser?"

"A little bit?" admitted Izuku, squirming a little.

Aizawa sighed heavily. "I seriously hope your quirk doesn't stockpile danger- don't test that."

He wasn't going to!

Probably.

Speaking of, though, what did One for All actually stockpile? Power was a very vague description... He'd just went along with it because a) quirk and b) All Might, but it would probably be good to know.

"Next time we meet, I'll be running you through the basic quirk assessment battery- that's a series of tests usually given to five-year-olds to help their pediatric quirk doctors and quirk counselors identify difficult or stubborn quirks. You should have gone through it when you were younger."

Izuku shook his head. "All I remember is the x-ray."

"Why would you get an x-ray?"

"For the toe joint? To tell whether or not I was quirkless?" Why was he saying this? He was going to blow his cover and his secret out of the water! This was so dumb.

But he did say it. Maybe it was his guilty conscience from lying to and misleading Mr. Aizawa so much.

"That's a myth," said Aizawa.

"What?"

"It isn't true." Aizawa began to slump down in his seat. "It's an old wives' tale. Everyone quirkless has the double joint, but not everyone with the double joint is quirkless. I have the double joint, as do about twenty-five percent of people with meta quirks." By the time he finished, only the top half of his face was visible.

"Oh," said Izuku. He wasn't sure what else to say. At least the secret of One for All was completely intact.

"I hate to say this, kid, but it sounds like everyone involved in your early quirk education was incredibly incompetent. You shouldn't have had to deal with that, even if you were truly quirkless. It takes just as much counseling to deal with that in today's day and age as something like, say, Ashido's quirk."

Izuku had never heard it put like that before. "Okay."

"Now, before I send you off for today, do you have any questions about anything we'll be doing? Any of the tests we'll be running, normal quirk counseling procedures, anything. It's important for you to feel comfortable about this."

Izuku's eyes teared up. This had already been a very emotional day, and he wasn't sure a teacher had ever asked him that and meant it. "Mr. Aizawa," he said, earnestly, "you're the best teacher I've ever had."

"Is that a joke?" asked Aizawa, flatly.

Izuku shook his head, centrifugal force flinging his teardrops away.

"That's messed up, kid. I'm terrible."

"You're the best," protested Izuku.

"I just need you to know how incredibly low that bar is. Your other teachers must have gotten shovels to dig tunnels under it. They must be dancing limbo in hell."

Izuku blinked. He had no idea what that meant. "I think they're all still alive..."

"Not for long," muttered Aizawa.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #danger first #danger first au #fic #fanfic

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years ago

Text

𝑀𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑎-𝑌𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒! 𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑊𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝐴 𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, justifying, encouraging, promoting, nor romanticizing yandere or mafia behavior or lifestyle. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warnings: This reaction contains scenes of violence, blood, death, and other material that might not be suitable for some people. Reader discretion advised.

❧𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

The fact Hongjoong seemed completely unfazed by you throwing the stack of papers on his desk was starting to frighten you.

"Aren't you going to look over them?" You asked him when he made no move nor any sound.

Hongjoong hummed softly before taking the packet and merely flipping the pages.

"I'm not going to ..... if you want me to sign over the papers, I'll gladly do it right now."

Now he was terrifying you. There was no way he was going to give in that easily.

You knew him too well.

Hongjoong smirked when he saw your suspicious look.

"Just get it over with so I can leave. It's almost time to pick up our son."

"Actually honey........ you won't find him there." He said as he picked up the ballpoint pen next to him.

Your head snapped up at him.

"What? What are you saying?! If you hurt my-"

"Our son, at least he still is at this moment, and you know I'd never let a single hair of his get harmed...."

Hongjoong hovered the pen above the dotted line at the bottom of the page.

"But I'm letting you know now Y/N, the second I sign these divorce papers, is the second you'll no longer be his mom or ever see him again."

There it was, just as you feared. He was blackmailing you into staying.

"Still want me to sign them?"

❧𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

Seonghwa sipped his tea calmly. Taking a quick glance at the clock, he let out a soft chuckle.

"She'll be here any minute."

Sure enough, just as the clock struck 10, the doors bursted open. He barely batted an eyelash at his wife who was now caged in between 2 very tall and muscular men who were carrying her in the room. Y/N swung her legs around, trying desperately to free herself but it was no use. They managed to sit her down at the opposite end of the table.

"Sit the fuck down."

Seonghwa's voice boomed throughout the dining room, and Y/N immediately abandoned her plan of running out the door once the security guards left. Seonghwa was even more menacing than them combined.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he inhaled and then released a heavy sigh.

"Seriously? You start acting up these last few days and I let it go because I'm trying to be patient...."

Reaching for something underneath his plate, he threw it across so it landed right in front of Y/N.

"But that is the last straw."

In the blink of an eye, Seonghwa was right in front of her, harshly gripping her chin as he made her look into his cold and fiery eyes.

"Let me make this clear Y/N: you're my wife. I own you..... and I won't let you go around embarrassing me with some divorce shit."

Letting go of her, Seonghwa shoved her face away rather harshly.

"As if marrying you in the first place wasn't humiliating enough...."

❧𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

"Y/N....what are you-?"

When Yunho got the call from the lawyer telling him that you had filed for the divorce, he refused to believe it. He just couldn't believe it. He loved you, and you obviously loved him. It had to be a mistake.

But when he came home and found you packing the last of your things, reality hit him. You kept refusing to answer his questions, merely brushing past him as if he didn't exist. Getting frustrated, Yunho gripped your arms and held you in place.

"For God's sake Y/N! Why can't we just talk about this?! Talk to me! We have to work this out!" He didn't realize he began to shake her rather violently.

"There's nothing to work out here Yunho! I'm sick of all this! I'm sick of your possessiveness and I'm done!" You cried out.

"No baby please don't! I promise you I can change! Just please don't walk out on me!"

He embraced you tightly when you tried to push him off, his height and strength making your attempts at pulling away futile. His desperate sobs began to make you feel guilty, making you start to regret your decision......

But the still rational part of you refused to give in. You had to get out....

Even if you ended up destroying Yunho and yourself in the process.

❧𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

Yeosang stared coldly at you. He had just finished reading the documents and he was definitely not amused. Without even blinking or moving his gaze from you, he ripped the papers in half, throwing them onto the floor.

"You've really gotten more brazen these past months." He noted.

"What can I say? I learned it from you." You spat back.

Yeosang lifted his hand but stopped himself midway. Clenching his fist, he took a deep breath before snapping his fingers. One of his guards immediately came up to you and landed a harsh slap to your cheek. Although it stung like a bitch, you refused to let any tears spill out and opted for keeping a straight face, knowing it'll piss him off even more.

"You can't keep me locked here with you forever Yeosang." You told him.

Raising an eyebrow at your challenging words, Yeosang hissed out:

"Oh no? Watch me."

He walked out of your room, motioning for two of the guards to stay positioned at your door. He glared at you as he closed the doors, the sound of them being locked resonating throughout the room.

Now you definitely were trapped.

❧𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

When they brought the documents to San and he took a look at them, he was furious. He actually got his gun out and shot the messenger dead with a bullet to the head.

"Where is she?!" He demanded.

"We don't know sir." One of his men replied.

"Well I'm giving you 1 hour to find her unless you want me to skin you all alive and feed you to the dogs. This is an order: find my wife and bring her back here. Do not harm her and most of all, do not allow her to try anything..."

San knew you were crazy enough to end your own life before allowing yourself to be taken back to him. You had already tried running away years before, which resulted in him caning your back so severely that it took you months to fully recover and to walk properly again. You remember when he warned you that if you tried anything like that again, he would not hesitate to torture you to death.

"I want her here! And I want her here alive! Do you understand me?!" He roared at his men.

"Sir yes sir!"

The men quickly sparsed themselves out, dedicated to finding you and bringing you back to your devil of a husband.

San looked out the window, his eyes squinting in rage and disgust as he looked at the city lights beneath him.

"I'll find you Y/N, you can't hide from me forever. Even if I have to set the entire city on fire and burn it to the ground, I will find you...

And I will kill you. "

❧𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

Mingi grunted, his fist once again colliding with the poor man's face which was already badly bruised and dripping insane amounts of blood. But it wasn't enough for Mingi. He was livid, he was like a beast, and most of all, he was going insane after being told that not only you had filed for divorce but that you had actually left the country to god knows where.

"Fucking christ! Where is she?! Why can't any of you give me any answers?!" He shouted at the terrified people behind him.

"S-sir, we're trying our b-best.." they tried to explain.

"Well obviously, it's not good enough!"

Reaching his limit, he violently bashed the man's head against the concrete wall, cracking his skull open as blood spurted all over Mingi's shirt, neck and jaw, effectively putting an end to the man's suffering.

"Sir? We got a confirmation."

Mingi's eyes lit up instantly when he heard that. His subordinate showed him the coordinates of where you were located and even got a hold of the hotel room you were staying in.

Not able to wait any longer, Mingi gave orders for his plane to be prepared. Getting out his phone, he immediately called your room, his heart pounding so hard he thought it would burst out his chest.

"Hello?"

He stopped breathing for a moment when he finally heard your voice.

"Baby? Please wait for me.....

I'm coming for you."

❧𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow at you.

"Do you want to die?" He questioned you.

"Why? Are you offering?" You counteracted him.

"Don't fucking test me cause I can easily arrange it."

Whether it was you feeling a little more brave or you simply had forgotten the kind of man Wooyoung really was, you had the audacity to scoff at him.

"But you won't Wooyoung. You're not going to kill me. Cause you're so puffed up with pride and power and with this obsessive need to control me, that if you kill me, you'd lose that power....."

You smirked at his shocked expression.

"And you can't have that now, can you?"

Wooyoung lifted his hand to slap you, but you quickly evaded it, landing a punch to his stomach that had him doubling over. You began running away, almost reaching the door when you cried out in pain as a loud bang sounded through the room. You clutched your leg as blood poured out from your shin, meanwhile Wooyoung strolled over to you, gun in his hand.

"You're right..... I won't kill you...

But that doesn't mean I won't hurt you.."

❧𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

Jongho's eye and hand began to twitch as soon as he saw you walk in with Yunho, not liking your close proximity.

"Yunho....... distance." He reminded his friend.

Yunho looked over at you, who were now trembling slightly. Now Yunho understood why you begged him to accompany you for this. Sighing, Yunho merely walked up to Jongho and handed him the folder in his hands. Jongho furrowed his eyebrows as he peered through the contents. He immediately threw them on the floor in outrage.

"What the hell is the meaning of this?!" He demanded to know.

You winced at his tone of voice and immediately stood behind Yunho for protection, which only enraged Jongho more.

"I swear to God, if you're leaving me for him.."

Jongho walked up and tried to tear you away from Yunho, but luckily Yunho intervened and kept him from landing a finger on you.

"Let me go you fucking bastard! How dare you take my wife away from me!" Jongho accused him.

"First of all it's not like that and as long as I'm here, I won't let you hurt her! Jongho you've got to stop!"

But being stronger than the taller male, Jongho easily shoved him to the floor. He then proceeded to corner you in the wall, pining your arms as he slammed you against it. Yunho now panicked and accidentally blurted out:

"Jongho stop! You'll not only hurt her but the baby-"

Yunho immediately clasped a hand over his mouth as he realized he said what you wanted to keep secret. Jongho looked at Yunho then at you, who had fear written all over your face. Jongho softened up a little as his hands clasped around your stomach.

"And you still tried to leave me...?"

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

#ateez reactions #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez mafia au #mafia!ateez #mafia!au #yandere!au #yandere!ateez #ateez yandere au #ateez #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho

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mochegato · 4 years ago

Text

Hope on Board

Chapter 9 – Making it Official

Chapter 1 Chapter 8

“What the fuck is with all the stunts?” Red Hood griped, landing his punch on the fourth of Scarecrow’s henchmen in the last minute. Luckily, this area of the hospital gave them enough room to maneuver. Unluckily, the pharmacy where the rest of Scarecrow’s henchmen were barricaded had entirely glass walls. Good to get in. Bad for stealth. The henchmen inside knew they were coming, but then again so did the hostages.

“What do you mean?” Nightwing asked innocently landing his triple flip on top of a henchman and using his momentum to swing into the man next to him, knocking him out as well. He bounced from that to spin into a punch, the velocity from the spin adding force behind the punch, making it powerful enough to break the henchman’s jaw. He surreptitiously glanced at the hostages before ducking the haymaker thrown by another henchman.

“He means you’re being extremely extra right now. Wait… oh my God! Which one is she?” Signal exclaimed, excitedly searching the hostages while he kicked one henchman in the chest hard enough to send them into a far wall, dodging another’s punch to punch him back in his unprotected side.

“The baby mama is in there?” Red Hood cut in. “Which one is she?”

“Hood! Not having this conversation right now,” Nightwing reprimanded sternly.

“Oh, calm down. All these guys are out,” Hood dismissed him.

“But the extensive amounts of surveillance cameras are not,” Nightwing hissed out.

Red Hood rolled his eyes. “Oracle?”

“On it. Five seconds of video gone,” Oracle’s voice sounded over the coms.

“Thank you,” Nightwing sighed.

“Okay, now that that’s taken care of, let’s go save your baby mama,” Signal responded with a grin before jumping through the window at the far side of the room, as far away from the hostages as possible, tackling two of the henchmen in the process.

“Back away or I start shooting with this one,” the lead henchman growled, holding a gun to Marinette’s head.

Nightwing froze. His eyes widened in panic. Red Hood and Signal took note of Nightwing’s response and quickly turned from laidback to tense. “Alright, calm down. Think about this. You shoot her, I shoot you,” Red Hood snarled. “Only I won’t kill you right away. I’ll do it slow and painfully. One shot at a time in the most pain inducing spots possible. Believe me when I say I know all of them.” The henchman looked over to the other vigilantes discretely. “They won’t stop me. I promise you.”

Signal nodded slightly to show his agreement without taking his eyes off the other five henchmen in the room. Three of which were standing in front of the other hostages. The other two were shoveling the last of the drugs they came for in their bags.

The lead henchman narrowed his eyes and pushed the gun harder against Marinette’s temple. She swallowed a whimper of pain, refusing to give him that satisfaction. “Sounds like she’s important to you then. So it seems like as long as I have her, I have my escape,” he jeered back at Hood.

Hood growled in response, but made no move to get closer. Marinette’s mind was reeling. This was now a standoff and she was the keystone. Someone had to do something. Maybe if they could get away from the other hostages she could do something… she just needed to figure out a plan, which would be significantly easier if she was familiar with the bats and how they usually thought and acted. She would use her nausea to throw up on him if she didn’t think he would just shoot her for it.

“Boys, grab a hostage and let’s go,” the lead hostage commanded.

Damn it! She no longer had time. She needed to act. Some of those hostages wouldn’t be able to move and there were children in the group. She stuffed down her fear. She felt nothing. She was empty. Except she wasn’t she had a baby now, she wasn’t just risking herself, she was risking the baby too so she couldn’t just fight and take the attention all onto herself. She needed a diversion. She sent a furtive look to her purse on the far side of the pharmacy and made eye contact with Tikki. She gave a slow nod and watched Tikki fly off to one of the racks of drugs. She tensed in anticipation.

She waited for the sound of whatever she was going to do and acted as soon as she heard it. She only spared a second to note a rack of drugs falling over taking out one of the henchmen. Having expected it, she recovered considerably quicker than the rest of the people in the room. She used the lead henchman’s momentary lack of attention to grab the hand holding the gun against her head and push it past her head while twisting under his arm to shove him toward the vigilantes. She yanked the gun out of his hand as she shoved him.

She took a second to take stock of the situation. Four henchmen left. All had dropped their bags of drugs to focus on getting out alive. Two headed for the vigilantes. One headed for the henchman under the rack, must be a friend or relative, she thought vaguely. It was the fourth that concerned her though. He was heading for the little girl tucked into her father’s side, probably still seeking a hostage to get away safely. She turned the safety on the gun, or at least that’s what she hoped she did, and threw it at his head as hard as she could.

The gun made contact, offsetting his balance. He struggled to recover and Marinette slid into his legs in a heroically miscalculated gesture. He fell back instead of forward and landing with his legs on Marinette. She had enough time to curl into a ball protecting her stomach before he kicked her in anger, the impact pushed all the air out of her lungs. She felt the pain radiate throughout her back.

“You fucking bitc…” he never got the chance to finish his insult. Nightwing’s hand was on his throat lifting him up and away from her in an instant. Marinette looked up in awe for a moment and scrambled back over to the other hostages to make sure they were okay. Within a few minutes, the room was flooded with police and the henchmen had been hauled away and were getting put into police transports while the hostages were brought out into the atrium of the hospital to wait to give their statements.

Red Hood helped Marinette up gently and personally guided her out to the atrium after all the other hostages had been led out. “Thanks for the help back there. Impressive job keeping calm and taking advantage of the distraction.”

Marinette hummed. “Thank you guys for saving us. You were very intimidating.”

Jason hummed back. “Yeah, I’m good for that. I’m the bad boy of the bat boy band. Now, interesting use of a gun and all, and I’m really glad it worked, but why, and I can’t stress this enough, the fuck didn’t you just shoot him?” Hood asked bemused.

“I’ve never fired a gun. He was between me and the hostages. If I missed, I might have hit one of the hostages. I’m better at throwing. I knew I wouldn’t miss if I threw it,” she shrugged, still catching her breath. “If I couldn’t get to him after the hit, I knew one of you would.”

Red Hood nodded in contemplation. “Solid reasoning. I’ll go with that. Remind me to teach you to shoot someday.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Next time I see you, we’ll set it up,” she said dismissively and let out a strained chuckle.

Red Hood grinned. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

Marinette nodded slightly, her face took on a look of concentration and she started breathing deeply again.

“Woah, wait. That’s her?” Duke exclaimed, peeking around the corner to take a look. “Damn, you did good.” He repositioned so he could properly size her up without being too obvious. At which point, she promptly turned to a trash can and threw up. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that.”

“She has really bad morning sickness. Shut it.” Nightwing growled, handing off the last henchman to the police.

“And that’s why I’m going to pretend like I didn’t see that,” Signal explained like he was explaining to a child.

Nightwing huffed at him and quickly moved over to check on Marinette. He reached out to rub her back like he would normally, but pulled his arms back at the last second. That was too familiar for him right now and she might not appreciate a stranger touching her. Plus he didn’t know how hard the guy had hit her. Her back might be bruised for a while. He would have to check it out later. “Are you alright, miss?”

“Miss,” Red Hood mocked him quietly, but made sure the coms could catch it as he followed the police cars taking the henchmen they had captured to prison.

Nightwing looked up to glare in his direction but didn’t respond. “It’s okay. I’m not contagious. I’m just pregnant.” She waved his concern away before moving toward a bench to sit.

Nightwing helped her sit with a charming smile. “Congratulations. I’m sure you and your boyfriend are very excited. But, are you alright after being held captive? How is your back?” His voice got nervous seeing her react by cocking her head to the side for a second before frowning and turning away. “…Are you not?” he asked carefully.

“Hm?” she hummed in question. She looked back up at him with a confused scowl before the realization spread across her face. “Oh! No, yes. Yes I’m fine, or will be and I think I’ll just have bruises, nothing broken and we’re very excited.” She gently laid her hand on her belly. “I just realized I don’t know what we are. We haven’t had that discussion. Ugh. I need to lay down for a second. Excuse me.” She walked herself back down until she was lying flat on the bench with her eyes closed and breathing deeply.

“Of course, sorry miss,” Nightwing responded awkwardly. He just realized he thought of her as his girlfriend, but they hadn’t discussed their relationship at all. They knew they wanted to parent together, but not how they wanted their relationship to go or where they were. He was fine with letting the relationship progress naturally without titles, but she might want something more concrete.

“It’s okay. At least this suffering is productive. I’m going to get something amazing out of it.” She offered him a weak smile without opening her eyes and returned to breathing deeply.

He smiled gently and answered quietly. “That’s a good way to think about it.” He wanted to brush her hair out of her eyes and kiss her, but he reminded himself he couldn’t. He backed off to check on the other victims, glancing back to her every few minutes. She had finally sat back up and her eyes were now open, but that hurt more. Instead of the bright, hopeful eyes he was used to, they now looked pained.

He wanted to hold her so badly it physically hurt to hold back. But he couldn’t do anything, not right now, not like this. He wasn’t her boyfriend right now. He wasn’t Dick Grayson, he was Nightwing, who she’d only just met. The distance grated on him. It burned his chest. He needed to leave. He wouldn’t be able to stay this close to her for much longer without hugging her and comforting her. If his eyes caught on her unsettled, worried eyes one more time, he was going to slip.

He clenched his fists and set his jaw. He had to act now. He looked over to Signal, catching his eye and nodding to him. Signal nodded back in understanding. Nightwing snuck out past the police and grappled a few buildings away. He tucked himself behind a half wall and changed back into his civilian clothes. “Hood can you please grab my stuff on your way back?” he called over the coms.

“What am I? Your errand boy?” He groused.

“Please, Hood.” The vulnerability in his voice was so potent, Hood felt guilty teasing him any further.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed.

“Thank you,” he called as he ran back to the hospital. “Marinette!” Dick yelled pushing his way through the people standing around waiting for the police to take their statements and let them leave.

“Dick!” Marinette leapt up from her seat and ran to him, jumping into his arms.

Dick held her tightly, cradling her in his arms and stroking her hair. He’d known she was fine. He had just been there not a few minutes before speaking with her about her and the baby. He knew she was fine, but holding her in his arms was different. He hadn’t realized how fast his heart had been pounding until it started returning to a normal pace with her in his arms.

“How did you know?” she mumbled into his neck.

“You had an appointment here a little bit ago and weren’t answering your phone,” Dick explained, pulling away to check her over. He needed to see for himself she was okay. He patted down her arms and legs and ran his hands over her chest and belly, reassuring himself she was fine before he finally let out the breath he had been holding.

“If you wanted to feel me up, I’m sure we could find an empty office,” she smirked at him.

He spluttered a bit and blushed. “I wanted to see for myself that you were okay.” He pulled her back into his arms and buried his head in her neck, breathing in her scent. He kept her in his arms for a few minutes before speaking again. “I’m going to have to give a new answer for my favorite hero from now on,” he chuckled.

Marinette froze and pulled away, fear evident in her eyes. “What?”

“After your heroics earlier. I have a new hero.” He looked at her with mock awe. She rolled her eyes and pushed his face away, but stayed firmly in his arms, still too dazed to think about what he had said. “You’ve met the Gotham heroes now. Ready to change your favorite?”

“I did mention the very many times Chat saved my life, right?” She reminded him with a strained voice, playing along with the attempt to lighten the atmosphere, but only just.

“But Nightwing saved your baby. Chat can’t say that,” Dick pointed out with a grin, playing up the joke, but it had the opposite effect. Both of their faces went slack at the comment. She launched herself deeper into his arms as tears started falling. He tightened his arms around her. “I was so worried about you.” He pulled away just far enough to cup her face and stare in her eyes. “I was scared I wouldn’t get to see you again or you’d get hurt or lose the baby. What were you thinking?”

“I… I was thinking once they took them hostage, someone was going to die, maybe all of us. I was thinking there were people who couldn’t move well no matter how much they were threatened or hit. The henchmen weren’t going to put up with that. And there were kids that could be easy hostages. I couldn’t let them take them. I had to do something. There was an opportunity to do something and I could. Someone had to. The bats couldn’t without me getting hurt so it had to be me.”

Dick’s heart clenched tighter. He understood that motivation. They all did. That was one of the reasons they did what they did. They couldn’t just not help if they had the ability to do so. And he understood why it had to be her. But at the same time, he couldn’t watch her in danger like that. His heart stopped when the henchman she hit turned to attack her. And when the man had a gun to her head… He laid his forehead on hers and squeezed his eyes shut. All the panic and fear he had pushed down in order to function came to the surface and the tears started falling. “Please don’t… please don’t do that again. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, either one of you.”

“Hey, hey,” she wiped away her tears to gently bring his face up to hers and give him a hopefully convincing calm look. “It’s okay. I’m okay. Nightwing and Signal and Red Hood were here to protect me. I mean, how could things go wrong?”

Dick’s face fell and he held her closer because he knew exactly how it could have gone wrong. All the many ways it could have gone wrong. He’d already envisioned all of them, every unlikely, preposterous, ridiculous way it could have gone wrong, he’d pictured it. “Marinette, stay with me tonight. Just to cuddle. Just so I can know you’re okay.” He rushed to add anticipating her reaction. “I just… I want to know you’re okay. Just so I can feel you in my arms. If it’s too much…”

“Okay,” she interrupted, brushing his face with gentle fingers.

“Okay?”

The hopeful look in his eyes just about broke her heart. She didn’t think she could deny him anything when he looked at her like that. “Okay,” she confirmed. “I’m still a bit shaken too. I’d like to spend the night knowing you were right there with me, protecting me.”

He crashed his lips into hers and God, he wanted to deepen it. He wanted to taste her, but he knew he couldn’t yet, not with her nausea as bad as it was. He settled for gently biting her bottom lip and pulling on it. She groaned into it. He could feel her falter like she was holding herself back from more as well. He broke the kiss instead before either of them could do something that would make her sick.

He pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers. “Okay, let’s get you home then. Maybe we can pick up a snack for you on the way. You hungry?” When she nodded, he stood up and guided her out of the hospital. “Commissioner Gordon?” He waited for the man to respond before continuing. “I’m going to take my girlfriend home now. She’s in no state to give a statement right now.”

Commissioner Gordon raised an eyebrow. “She looks fine to me.”

“She just threw up and she’s getting weaker.” Dick motioned to the trash can she had used earlier.

“Sounds like she should stay in the hospital then and get checked out,” he commented critically.

“They can’t really do much more for morning sickness than we can at home,” Dick answered quietly.

Commissioner Gordon’s eyes bulged out and he looked down to her stomach and back up. “Ah. Okay. Make sure my officers have your information before you leave. And congratulations to both of you.”

Marinette smiled weakly at him but Dick gave him a wide grin. “Thank you. We greatly appreciate it. And we aren’t telling people yet, for obvious reasons so if you can keep it under wraps, I’d appreciate it.” Commissioner Gordon nodded and waved them away.

They stopped to speak with an officer on their way out to make their way to a bakery nearby before heading to Dick’s car. As soon as they were out of earshot of the people around Marinette finally spoke up. “So… girlfriend?”

Dick grinned down at her. “I was hoping so anyway.” He stopped and cupped her face again so their eyes could meet. “Marinette, I’m already picturing my life with you. I already know I want you there in my life, which I realize is crazy because it’s so fast. At the same time I know girlfriend doesn’t sound like much considering… everything…”

“Yes!” Marinette kissed him again. “That sounds perfect for where we are. And… I’m already picturing my future with you and the baby too. I like those daydreams.” She wrapped her arms around his neck with a tired look. “Now how far exactly is this bakery? I’d really like to just get back to your place and curl up on the couch with my boyfriend and some delivery and watch a terrible movie.”

He smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, encouraging her to cuddle into his side and led her into the bakery they were standing outside of. “That sounds like a perfect night with my girlfriend.”

“Hey, Marinette’s boyfriend, next time you’re going to be disgustingly cutesy, turn your coms off,” Jason grumbled into the coms. “We don’t need more people in the family throwing up.”

Chapter 10

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123

#maribat #Dickinette February #dickinette #platonic jasonette #platonic adrienette #Hope on Board #Knocked Up AU #prompt - stunts

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human-do-a-worm · 4 years ago

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Ramblings of an Old Soldier Part 2/?

Part 1 can be found HERE

The next day, the Unkall boy came back to the old soldier, sitting on the bench where he normally does, reading his data tablet. The boy had a rather happy look on him today.

“Ah, you’re back. I take it that my story wasn’t quite enough on its own then?”

“Not quite mister. It turned out to be more than enough for my first paper. After I turned it in, my teacher said I could go ahead and write the rest of my papers for the course since I had found a primary source willing to share their experience.”

“I see. How kind of your teacher. Back when I was in school, they would have told us to stuff it.”

“So, what other stories do you have to tell?”

“How about my time in the cycle after the Martian campaign?”

“That sounds wonderful. Let me start my recorder.”

The Unkall child pushes a glowing button on his data tablet, and a blue dot appearing on the screen indicated that the recording had started

“It was less than a month after the battle on Mars; that’s one twenty-fourth of a cycle in standard units. Reconstruction had begun on mars, and the war fleets which were now all massed around Terra had been split into five groups. Group Solar and Group Lunar were the two largest of the fleets, and as such were classed together. Group Pangea, Group Gondwana, and Group Oceana were the three smaller groups, and were classed together as well. The fleets were organized in this way by Grand Admiral Demetrius, to ensure that no one fleet would have to stand against the enemy for too long a time.”

“Since I’ve brought him up, I should probably tell you a bit about the Grand Admiral. Remember what I was saying about the preparations for the battle on Mars. All the meticulous planning done to move the civilians back to Terra, and keep morale up while being an effective fighting force? Well, that came from Demetrius, and was only slightly modified by individual units as the orders were passed down the chain. His odd decision making turned out to be one of the most valuable things that humanity had, because nobody could anticipate his plans; especially the Vrumoids. He was only a rear admiral, but after his commendation, and the first victory in the war, He was immediately promoted.”

“Back to the war now. The battle plan was simple. Keep a constant pressure on the enemy, working in a single spot, pushing the enemy back system by system, and planet by planet. Where to stop would be figured out as the fleets went along. This seemed to work very well. In most systems, Groups Solar and Lunar rarely had fire a single shot. The Vrumoids would either flee or be destroyed by one of the smaller groups before the heavy guns of the heavy class ships could be brought to bear.”

“The reconquest continued almost flawlessly until there was a single human world left to reclaim. Rexorb VI was nothing more than a rock when humanity last saw it, but after looking upon it, the armada called for the command group; Group Regal; to come and take a look. At first sight of the data scans, Demetrius broke down with laughter. Failing to find the humor in this situation, his second in command asked him what was so funny.” “These poor bastards. They’ve made this planet up to be just like Mars, hoping we’ll make the same mistakes they did. Have they never been told that it’s a bad idea to try using the tactics someone created against them? They’ve made themselves the easiest targets possible for us, and what’s even better is that they did it on a mining world. There were only a few housing units on that planet, and its riches lie deep inside. This is the perfect opportunity to try a new idea.”

“With that, preparations were made swiftly, and with much laughter all around. On the back side of Rexorb VI’s moon, groups Solar, Gondwana, and Oceana moved into position, mounting themselves with their primary propulsion systems poised to drop the moon from its orbit.”

The boy spoke up

“Didn’t the Vrumoid forces on the planet notice what was happening?”

Laughing, the old man responded

“Nope. That was a benefit of only showing the enemy one small and one large battle group at a time. According to Vrumoid intelligence recovered after the war, The defenders on Rexorb VI simply thought we were just deciding how to invade properly. They had no idea Demetrius was crazy enough to consider crashing the moon into the planet, and they would have to have been crazy to even guess that the rest of the fleet would just go along with it. I know Demetrius was expecting to do some explaining to the others.”

“The High Admiral may have been absolutely insane, but he wasn’t heartless. He ordered a shuttle to take one squad and an emissary to give them one final chance to surrender. They of course, believing a ground war lay ahead, refused. That was the last mistake that the Vrumoids ever made when dealing with humanity. Exactly one planetary axis revolution after the shuttle returned to the fleet, all the pushing ships’ engines fired up. Each of the ships had worked out their individual point of no return for propelling the moon towards the planet, and had an order to pull off at what their captain deemed a safe time before reaching their point of no return. By the time the last ship pulled off, The moon was going faster than its own terminal velocity.”

“When that moon hit the surface of the planet, the entire thing cracked like a geode. After observing this from one of their comm stations, the Vrumoid Empire rushed to set up peace treaty negotiations. Of course, who was the Terran representative by unanimous vote from the United Terran Council? None other than High Admiral Demetrius. They figured that if nothing else, he could get the Vrumoids to leave humanity alone. But what he got us was something so much greater.”

“As you might have learned in class, our home system and colonies were entirely located within an isolated part of Vrumoid space. We had no knowledge of the Galactic Council Alliance, at least until one of the Vrumoid delegates at the negotiations made a mistake and asked one of his compatriots what the council would think of their actions if they ever found out. After learning that there were other intelligent species in the galaxy, Demetrius demanded that humanity be granted a swath of planets and territory directly to the territory of another GCA member.”

“This single achievement is what brought humanity forward. Demetrius did what no other Terran could do; he found sentient life that wasn’t actively trying to kill us, and he made sure we could get to them with ease. If it weren’t for him, we would have never known the GCA existed, and likely would have been either wiped out or enslaved by the Vrumoids after they rebuilt their forces.”

“Of course, after we made contact with the council, and they saw what we were able to do to a far more technologically advanced species, they demanded to see our battle reports and to speak with all the commanding officers. I remember standing there by High Admiral Demetrius’ side.”

The young Unkall spoke up ecstatically

“You were a commanding officer?”

“Sure was kiddo. Leading the charge of those bikers on mars was one hell of a brave thing, and Demetrius took note. When he got the chance to promote one of his soldiers to an admiral under his command for Group Solar, he spoke loud and clear to us and said “Where’s that crazy bastard that volunteered to charge a platoon of enemy tanks using nothing but motorcycles and bombs on sticks? I have a job for you!” That was the day I was no longer a simple marksman, I was an Admiral, and a damn good one too. My group didn’t lose a single vessel to the enemy.”

“I still remember the day I went down on that rock the day before we cracked it. The Vrumoid commander must have been watching the video recordings from when I charged the tanks, because the moment I walked into the room and she looked up at me, she looked all sorts of shaken up. When I told her that this was her last chance to accept a mercy never offered by her empire, a chance to surrender; she simply said that surrender would never come until she and her warriors no longer stood upon the planet. If only she knew the irony in those words.”

“I remember being at the peace conference, and although Demetrius had only been seen rarely by the Vrumoids, mostly in transmissions intercepted from Mars to Earth, they had seen me plenty. I think I scared them more than Demetrius did, because when I talked about how my motorcycle wasn’t out of fuel yet, they started agreeing to our demands.”

Curiously, the boy tapped something into his data tablet

“Wait a minute, are you saying that you’re Admiral Sturm?”

“Indeed I am. Admiral Jakob Sturm, service number 6556-0293-422-41, former commander of the Terran expeditionary fleet codename Solar. I proudly led my sailors, soldiers, and marines through some of the harshest battles that humanity has faced, and kept my fleet intact. I wasn’t lying when I said that I didn’t lose a ship in my group to the enemy. And after serving 10 cycles in service of my species, I left honorably.”

“So what did you do after you left? I’d imagine being an admiral is a hard job to top.”

“You’re right, admiral is a hard job to beat. I served as an ambassador of Terra for a cycle before I returned to the stars. I found some of the others from back on Mars that charged with me on that day. We were a mercenary group. We mostly took escort contracts or welfare and security for anyone we deemed especially needy. We did good work for a few cycles, but then I had to give it a rest.”

“That’s around the time your name stopped appearing in records of both the GCA and Terran reports. What happened?”

“I’ve been talking for too long. I think you might be able to get a few pages out of what I’ve said today. Better to not burn up all your content at once, right? I’ll be here again tomorrow, like I always am. I’ll tell you more then.”

“If you insist sir. I’ll be here.”

“Until then, take care. I may be old, but I still expect people to stick to a schedule.”

With that, the boy stopped his recording and went home. To meet someone as important as Admiral Sturm, who seemed to have vanished from most records 8 cycles ago, was entirely unexpected. Unexpected, but it will certainly make a wonderful paper for his teacher.

#humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #humans are space australians

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airi-p4 · 3 years ago

Text

Ice Dreams - Chapter 2

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | …

Header art is traditional art drawn by me about one year ago - Full pic HERE.

Summary

Despite being very talented and loving to skate, Marinette is determined to quit Figure Skating after the lack of decent results and the great amount of stress and pressure on her shoulders.

On the other hand, Juleka and Luka are average skaters in pairs category who, after years of hard work, have finally started showing some good results. But suddenly, Juleka is forced to retire, leaving Luka at the verge of retirement because of his need for a partner.

Can Juleka convince Luka and Marinette to give figure skating a second chance? Can they form a bond strong enough to reach the top and accomplish their dreams? Could something more than partnership spark between them?

AO3

________________________________

CHAPTER 2: Luka

“C’mon, Juleka,” Luka said, finishing his warm up on the ice rink. “Today we’ll nail it! Are you read-”

*PLOF*

A sudden sound startled him: it was Juleka, his sister, who fell flat on the ice floor.

“Juleka! Hey! Can you hear me?” Luka panicked, rushing to check on her. She wasn’t moving. “Someone! Call an ambulance, NOW!”

___________________________

‘I can’t believe I didn’t notice,’ he thought, sinking between his shoulders. ‘I knew how she was getting more and more thin everyday, I noticed how her weight was lighter. I thought it was because I got stronger. I thought it was her make-up or her clothes. How come I couldn’t notice how light she weighs? Why couldn’t I help her earlier? Why did she have to end up in the hospital? Why am I such a failure as a brother? As a partner… After everything she’s given to me...’

‘Now’s my time to be there for her. This needs to stop’

“Juleka! You’re up!” Luka called, back from his thoughts when the sheets of her hospital bed moved and she slowly opened her eyes.

“What happened? Where…? What happened with practice…? Did I fail a jump...?” The girl asked, still numb. Luka moved his hand to press check on her and call for the nurse.

“No Juleka, you didn’t fall. You fainted” he explained, as the nurse entered the room to check on her.

“Fainted!? Why?” Juleka yelled, and was shushed by the nurse.

“Look. I’m sorry I didn’t notice earlier… It’s my fault”

Luka sighed regretfully and Juleka blinked at him. “Notice what…?”

“Juleka, listen: you’ve been diagnosed with an eating disorder” he said, and she gasped. “I know you’ve always been a picky eater but this… THIS is too much. Your BMI is too low... Look at you. You’ve lost so much weight! You need to stop dieting and eat properly” The nurse nodded and Luka nodded back as she left the room. Juleka’s mouth was still open in surprise.

“I… But I need to look thin… like the other girls… like all those great skaters…”

“No, Juleka, you don’t need to look thin, you need to be healthy. And you shouldn’t be a skater anymore if you can’t do that. From now on, I want you to focus on getting your weight back, on getting healthy again. You looked prettier before, Juleka. Don’t let stupid social standards decide how you should be or look like. Just be yourself. You know mom and I will always love you no matter how you look”

“But I do it for myself, not for others! I like myself more when I’m thinner… look at me, at all this fat. How can anyone say they like it? How could the judges like it? I’m hating it myself!” she cried.

“Well, I like it.” His words were honest and straight. “And I think most boys and girls or people in general would prefer that too.”

“You don’t understand!” she insisted. “I have to-”

“I do understand” He cut her. “You are ill. Your judgement is biased. You can’t see the reality. Do you want to be only bones? Do you want to die? Because I don’t want you to. That’s why I need you to promise me you’ll stay in the hospital until you’re healthy again.”

Juleka’s body jolted in shock. “What!? But, Luka! Our competitions! The skating! We finally made it to internationals this year...! I need to do it, for you too!”

“No. No more competitions or skating for you, Juleka. It’s your time to retire. Mom has already submitted your resignation to the Ice Skating Federation. You can’t skate anymore. You need to rest and get better, and to find a way to recover from your eating disorder”

“But Luka, what about you? You've worked so hard! We finally got a high enough score to get into international competitions. I can’t leave you alone now! What about your dream?” she insisted.

“That’s not as important as you are for me, Jules. I want you to be yourself again” he caressed his sister’s hair softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice earlier… I wish I could have helped you… I know you wanted to help me with lifts and my poor endurance and I was too focused on scoring that I couldn’t notice how these feelings were killing you from the inside. I don’t deserve to be called your partner”

“No, Luka. It was me who kept dragging you down! I can’t land my jumps because I weigh too much. I can’t jump high because of it either. It’s a miracle we made it to so far”

“You did amazing, Juleka. You really did and I’m grateful. But now: no more competition for you or for me either. It’s over. Time to find another goal. Both of us” he affirmed.

“No! Luka, even if I don’t compete, you should continue! Find another partner! Many girls would love to work with you! You definitely can accomplish your dream. You just need a more suited partner than me” The purple haired girl stubbornly continued.

“That’s impossible, you know that” Luka remained calm, closed his eyes and let an ironic snicker out. “I don’t get along with other people, I can’t bond with them. Girls? Boys? No matter what you do they always badmouth you about everything. Pure hearted people like you don’t exist, Juleka. I can’t team up with anyone else”

“Luka… But-!”

“This conversation is over” he cut her again, standing up and checking his phone. “I’m going to talk to the doctor and get you something to eat. Mom will be here by midday”

"Wait-"

*Knock knock*

________________________

“Juleka?” Luka checked the room. “Oh your friend already left? How are you? Did you eat everything?”

“Yes…” Her brother could see through her lie.

“Really? What’s this, then?” he pointed at the apple under her pillow

“Ah-”

“You need to eat this apple too, you won’t get healthy otherwise...” Luka said, holding the fruit to peel and cut it for her.

“I know but…” she mumbled.

“This is not a game. It’s serious, Jules” He insisted, offering a piece of apple close to her mouth. “Please…?“

Juleka turned her face away, disgusted. “No. Keep skating”

“We’ve already discussed this. No more skating. You need to get well. Eat” Luka frowned his eyebrows.

“I wasn’t talking about me. I was talking about YOU. I don’t want you to give up your dream...”

“You know I can’t skate with anyone else, Jules. Girls hate me. And I hate them. The best is to quit and focus on taking care of you” Luka insisted with the apple and his sister turned her face away again, using her hand to set his hand and the apple aside.

“But Luka! I found someone willing to be your partner, “ she informed. “You just need to give her a chance. To give pairs skating a second chance. Please…? For me…?”

“You know I can’t do that. It’s settled. I’m resigning tomorrow. The papers are ready and-” his hand moved closer again.

“But you don’t want to quit! I know you don’t! Just like Marinette doesn’t really want to quit either!” she yelled, and Luka blinked at her friend’s name.

“Marinette?”

“Yes, Marinette! We used to compete together when I skated in singles. We’ve been friends since then, even though she always won and I was good for nothing… She’s kind and talented. She has a pure heart, Luka. Just like yours.”

“I remember her,” he recalled. “Not much, but I remember how beautiful her skate was. She is far too talented to be interested in switching to pairs”

“She’s going to quit otherwise” Juleka affirmed.

“No way”

“I’m not joking” If it wasn’t for her conviction, he wouldn’t have believed her. “I think she really doesn’t want to quit, but she is determined to. Just like you don’t want to quit either. You just need to find balance in yourselves and you could be an incredible team. You just need to give her a chance…”

There was a moment when Luka seemed to consider the offer, but he cut his thoughts off. “... No. I can’t, Juleka. We came this far together. I can’t keep all the credit alone. C’mon, eat this for me”

“No” she refused again. “I’m not going to eat unless you give it another chance.”

“Juleka, stop being childish. You’re 15”

“I’m not asking much, Luka. Just one try. I beg you!” she slammed her hands on the bed. And stared at Luka with teary eyes, desperate to the boy’s surprise. “I want you to skate for me too…”

Luka found himself staring into Juleka’s eyes and how serious she was. It was more than rare for her to act this selfishly, so he ended up giving in to her request.

“Ok, one chance.” he sighed. “But you’re eating this apple right now”

“Ugh… Ok… For you… and for Marinette…” she let her mouth open for Luka to feed her the apple at last.

“Good girl” Luka smiled, relieved, despite his sister’s disgusted eating face.

‘One more chance, huh...?’

#fic: ice dreams #my fic #airip4 #lukanette fic #endgame lukanette #lukanette figure skating AU #lukanette #Pro LukaMari

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sagetsukimura · 3 years ago

Text

Dropping a Naruto drabble here, completely unedited for anything approaching coherence or clarity, because I doubt I'll ever actually do anything with it. Spelling errors abound, and I have. It been in this fandom in so long pleas forgive mistakes! Head cannons involved include...

Hinata Hyuga did not go quietly

Hinata Hyuga suffered nerve damage from electrical ninjutsu when she was kidnapped

This had lasting effects such as muscle weakness, trembling, numbness, and confusion

Her father does love her but is very, very bad at showing it and forgets that's positive affirmation is important to teaching

Politics are bullshit (how do page breaks?!)

Here's a secret only a dead man knew; Hinata Hyuga did not go quietly.

When they took her, when she realized what was happening, she was not quiet. She screamed. She yelled and threatened and howled until a painful blow sent her spinning into unconsciousness. A capable abductor knows to prepare silencing seals beforehand.

She screeched when she woke the next time, shoved in a corner of a dilapidated shed as her abductor peaked threw the cracks in the wooden walls, hiding from the search. He'd whipped around and hit her so hard she'd lost a tooth. She'd kept screaming.

He didn't hit her after that. It was the lightning instead.

She was uncouncous again when her uncle found them. Her shouts had done little good. When she woke the temors and stutters came with, and always, always, the feeling of a hand over her mouth and burning pain in her bones as someone said, over and over, 'stay QUIET'

She didn't feel safe after that. For a little while it seemed ok, everyone was very patient and kind. But eventually even that ran out. She took to long to recover from the 'scare'. It 'destroyed' her, 'look how frightened she is ot everything, she's trembling like a leaf!'

She shook so often, fumbled kunai with numb fingers, and stuttered, always stuttered. Frustration turned to contempt. Clan elders turned their hard eyes away to focus on her sister. Hinata was too fragile to be of any use, too terrible at speaking to act as any reputable kind of clan figure.

Father remained distant. He did not lighten her load any either. He only told her to try again, to get up. The last time was not good enough, she was to do better come the next. He did not, however, call her pathetic. He did not remove her status as heir. He did not coldly suggest she look into the more civilian directed aspects of clan relations, because surely she would be better suited? She may struggle to hold a kunai steady, but it still feels more right than any pen ever could. The leader of a Shinobi clan must be a Shinobi. In the days where the frustration boils away her patients and exhausted she imagines cutting off a kumo ninjas fingers. She is kind, she is not passive, she did not go quietly-

Some nights, when she was feigning sleep (it never came easily, always light, always watching, waiting, for rough hands and hard strikes) her father would come by late at night, after all his meetings, and stand in the doorway. Once, she swore she heard him half whisper, half pray. 'you are stronger than you think'

Father does not share her medical records. He does not let the elders know about the nerve damage. They will demand her removal, claim her too week. So she is pushed. Possible too far. And often. Her baths are tested with special salts and half her 'therapy' sessions are careful medics attempting to slowly, so slowly, repair her burn out nerves in a more physical way. Eventually, claims that her mental state is too fragile put an end to even that. She is all but on her own, except for the physical therapy her aunt gives her, played off as extra training in flexibility and dexterity.

Her father does not pull her back a year in class. He does not let her sit inside on the days when her nerves decide to quit functioning properly. He does not do a lot of things. Hinata spends most of her free time walking the street of konoha, because he refuses to 'have a recluse as a daughter'.

'you are capable of better' he says, when she cannot best Hanabi in a spar. 'i expect some kind of improvement by next week's session'. It hurts and makes her wish she could curl up and die some days. When she grows she holds the words close. He is not perfect, but he is her father; at the time they felt like judgement. She did not know her father well, he was always away for work, always speaking to important people, while she trailed behind and focused on keeping her legs straight. After the exams she gets to see him outside of training, learns to understand. He believed in her when it felt like no one did. He apologizes for a lot.

Once, when she is 14, he enters the kitchen looking very satied and a little embarrassed, and shows her a book he's been reading. 'on teaching and improvement'. Hed forgotten about positive feedback, he said. Hed forgotten to tell her good job after she did improve, because she had. Because she really was strong, and he hoped that she could forgive him because 'the book says that the lack of positive affirmation can have a negative impact on a student's self-esteem, and-'

She just hugs him tight and revels in the knowledge he did not think her lesser. She also tells him, very kindly, that next time h just needs to do better.

Kurenai-sensei is the one to drag her to Tsunade, when the tingles in her fingers no longer slowly improve as they had been. Thenew therapy her damaged nerves are given changes everything.

She's learned a lot by then. Silence can be loud, and greatness can be quiet. She works hard, and though she is not the genius her cousin is she is capable and strong. She is smart, and she has learned how to breathe again. Her tongue still gets fuzzy, but her fingers are clever, and the near suicidal determination that had dragged her through years of training, drove her too far during that first chunin exam, it bears fruit when she is 15.

She learns many a battle cry, and burns away the memories that might her chest go tight, and decides, as once again invaders enter her home, that she will not go quietly this time either.

Her hands do not shake.

#writing #naruto fanfiction #naruto #drabbles #Hinata #hinata uzumaki #hinata hyuga #hinata hyuuga #headcannons #nerve damage #therapy #naruto headcanons

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