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bitethedevil · 2 months ago

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Strange Bedfellows (Lae’zel X Raphael): Chapter 1

Link to this fic on AO3

Summary: Lae'zel stayed on the Material Plane after the defeat of the Netherbrain. She vowed to rid Faerûn from Vlaakith's filth. She found plenty of allies to aid her cause, but not many people stand a chance against the ruthlessness and efficiency of the Gith, and she soon finds herself struggling.

Though she is not the only one who is struggling: Raphael has been left crownless, and he has angered the Lich Queen herself with his actions. He is in desperate need of assistance from someone who knows how Gith work and think.

Author’s note: I give to you: the cursed ship of Raph'zel (or Hell Frog, if you will). You're welcome and I'm very sorry. It makes sense to me. Both Gith and devils are lawful creatures, though still in very different ways...and I like to put characters who would hate each other's guts in a box and shake it violently <3 Also: the part about Raphael and Vlaakith and a certain object isn’t something I made up. You can find the slate in the Astral Plane.

I would strongly suggest that you read this on AO3 because there I have included a little Gith dictionary at the end.

After the defeat of the Netherbrain, Lae’zel had ventured out to wipe out every Vlaakith stronghold on the Sword Coast. She had vowed that she would not stop until every sarth and kith’rak had been defeated. She had found plenty of new allies to join her cause. People who she grew to trust and who she could call ‘friends’.

They were, however, not as efficient as her former group of allies. Her new friends were capable fighters, but no one else but her was Gith, and they stood little chance against the warriors who had trained all of their life. In the beginning they had been lucky and wiped stronghold after stronghold, but now, she was beginning to lose more people than they managed to kill. Morale was dwindling fast.

This time she had lost two dear friends when they had tried to storm what they thought would be a small camp. They were caught off guard and they only barely made it out alive. They had regrouped in a nearby tavern after.

“Lae’zel…” Tasar said in a gentle voice from beside her. “We couldn’t have known, so stop blaming yourself. Olyssa and Perth knew the risks and they still insisted to go in first. They wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up for it like this.”

She lifted her head to look at the elf. Tasar was a capable ranger and the one out of the group that always managed to stay positive no matter what. Even he looked like hell with the blood in his blonde hair and the tinge of sadness in his green eyes, even though he tried to hide it.

He was being strong for her and despite her appreciating the thought, she did not appreciate the gesture. She was not to be coddled. Though there was no reason to snap at him. No reason to make a bad mood worse. She only made a grumbling noise and turned her focus back to eating again.

She looked around the room. Her companions were dealing very differently with what had just happened. Murnum and Gulmin, the two twin dwarven paladins were drinking in silence. Grace, their tiefling bard, was drunkenly talking to strangers at the bar. Vincent, their human wizard, had been staring at a map and picking at his food for a good half hour by now. Tasar was still just staring at her in worry. It annoyed her to no end.

“We will set up camp soon,” Lae’zel said to those around the table. “Whoever is sober will keep watch. We will leave tomorrow at first light.”

Murnum and Gulmin took a gulp of their ale at the same time at her words, wanting to avoid being the ones to take the night watch. Vincent nodded a bit without ever taking his eyes off the map.

“I’ll take the first watch,” Tasar piped up. “You get some sleep tonight, Lae’zel.”

She gave him a short nod before going back to tearing apart the piece of chicken in her hands. Her eye twitched when she heard Grace’s high-pitched drunken laughter from somewhere in the tavern.

“Someone is talking with your girl, Vince,” Tasar said and looked at Vincent.

Vincent briefly looked up from the map to look behind him at the highly intoxicated tiefling woman. He sighed and looked back at the map.

“She is not ‘my girl’,” Vincent mumbled. “Let her drown her sorrows…We all mourn differently.”

“Mhm,” Tasar hummed and leaned over the table. “It looks like she’ll drown in that fancy lad’s brown eyes if you don’t do something. Come on, Vince…you like her. You should say something.”

“You should mind your own business, Tas,” Vincent retorted with a tightlipped smile.

They kept talking. It was irking Lae’zel how they could talk about such trivial matters when two of their friends were dead. They had lost many people, but it was angering her how desensitized they were all becoming.

There was one more high-pitched laughter from Grace behind her over the bickering of the two men, and that made her snap. She hammered her fist down into the table. The sound of it and her fiery gaze was enough to silence the whole table.

“Tasar, go out and scout for a place to camp,” she ordered cooly and then turned around. “Grace!”

Grace turned around two tables away from them with a lazy smile on her lips. Lae’zel froze for a moment when she saw who she had been talking to before her eyes narrowed at the man. A wide smile spread over Raphael’s face and his eyes lit up in recognition when he spotted her.

Lae’zel stormed over to them. She made a sharp gesture towards their table to Grace.

“But—”

“Now,” Lae’zel hissed at her.

Grace’s face was like that of a child that had just been told ‘no’, but she complied. She smiled politely at Raphael before moving to their table as she had been asked to. Lae’zel stared down Raphael.

“Lae’zel of K’liir…” he said with a charming smile. “Fancy seeing you here. One would expect that you—”

“No,” Lae’zel interrupted him with a sharp gesture. “No talking. Leave.”

Raphael’s smile got slightly tighter at getting interrupted.

“Now, now…” he said in a low tone. “There is no reason to get so defensive, my dear. My grievances are with your former leader, not you. Whyever, would I harm you for the sins of someone else? Perhaps—”

“I will harm you if you ever speak to one of mine again, chraith,” she warned coolly.

Raphael chuckled at that, though it was a cold sound. He did not like how little he was in control of the current situation. Lae’zel was not Tav, and she would not give him the time of day.

“You have grown quite sentimental, it seems,” he said. “How unlike you. Though I suppose it is only natural with how your little crusade is progressing…I hear that your allies are dropping like flies…”

Lae’zel walked away from him. She went outside to retrieve something from their packs. When she came inside again carrying the Orphic Hammer, a few of her allies got up from their seats. They only saw her carrying a big hammer and walking towards a man in a very determined manner, so they looked prepared to fight.

She dropped it at his feet. Raphael did not look particularly impressed. He glanced down at it with a bored expression and then smiled lazily at her.

“I was wondering what became of it,” he purred. “Is this supposed to bribe me to stay away?”

“Yes,” she said in a cold tone with a small smile and narrowed eyes. “If that is insufficient, perhaps a sword through that horned skull of yours might persuade you. I don’t deal with devils.”

“Ah, I see,” he said with a smirk. “You merely get others to do so for you, isn’t that so?”

Her hand moved to the hilt of her sword in warning. This was not the day to test her.

“Don’t forget who is responsible for you ever getting your hands on that silver sword of yours and who assisted you in freeing your people,” he said and then made an expression as if just remembering something. “Or, of course, who now owns your dear Tav’s soul because of it. In a fair world, would it not be yours instead, Lae’zel?”

Lae’zel drew her sword and the whole tavern fell quiet. Raphael looked at her with that grin of his and then at the patrons around them. He glanced down at the sword and then took one last look at her face.

“See you soon,” he purred and snapped his fingers.

The patrons gasped when flames danced around him, and he disappeared. He left the Orphic Hammer behind.

A few days passed. Lae’zel was seated on a bench a bit outside camp while she watched her companions train. She was eating her second lunch while looking at the map beside her, planning their next move.

“Does it get tiring?” she heard Raphael’s voice behind her, making her pause her chewing. “Eating enough for two simply to stay alive in a realm that you were not made for? Your body disagreeing with you constantly as it is dealing with a world it has not adapted to? And, worst of all, aging…”

Lae’zel finished chewing, placed the bowl of food beside her on the bench and reached behind her for her sword. She grabbed the hilt and pulled, but felt Raphael’s hand on hers, stopping the movement.

“Tsk tsk,” he tutted. “I only wish to speak with you. Just a little talk between former unlikely allies, and then I will leave you alone for now. I promise.”

“G’lyck,” she groaned in annoyance. “Speak if you must, devil, but do not expect me to listen to your mindless chatter.”

Raphael moved the map that was sprawled over the bench to sit down beside her. He crossed one leg over the other and leaned his arm on the backrest as he looked at her.

“I have always admired the Gith,” he said. “They are without a doubt one of the worst mortal races to make deals with, but I admire them all the same. In truth, your societies are not much different from those of the Hells.”

She stared at him with a blank expression.

“It is clear that you have failed in all of your dealings with Gith if you begin by insulting them,” she grumbled. “We’re not the same.”

“No?” Raphael asked. “We both believe that strict adherence to order, laws, and hierarchy will uphold our societies and cultures, do we not?”

“A devil might be orderly compared to a demon, but a devil’s order is nothing short of chaos.”

“For an outsider with no real understanding, perhaps,” he mused. “We wield order like a sword, and like a sword, it does not need to have pretty adornments or modifications to serve its purpose. As long as it works. I am sure a pragmatic woman like you would agree.”

“A sword, yes…A curious metaphor for someone who does not know how to wield one.”

“Pardon?” Raphael said, sounding slightly offended. “I am perfectly capable with a sword. I have fought in the Blood War, same as any devil.”

Lae’zel gave him a dismissive gesture and took a bite of her food.

“You are a bard,” she said once she was finished chewing.

“Of some, as I am sure you are aware, use swords,” he said in a slightly annoyed tone. “I am still quite proficient with a rapier even though it has been centuries since I was last on the battlefield, I can assure you.”

“You would call a rapier a sword?” she asked.

“It is,” he said. “I have never seen much sense in hacking and slashing away at a target, when one well-placed thrust could do the trick. I do, of course, know how to handle a longsword as well.”

She shook her head and finished her bowl of stew. She folded the map and put it in her pack.

“I am returning to camp,” she said. “I do not have time for chatter about your lack of martial prowess, istik.”

His eyes narrowed at her and his nose was wrinkled in annoyance when she started to walk away from him. Lae’zel discarded the bowl into a bucket and drew her sword as she walked towards her tent. Raphael appeared in front of her in a flash of fire.

“I will talk, and you will listen,” Raphael grumbled. “We have a common goal, you and I. You want to rid Toril of Vlaakith’s influence, do you not?”

Lae’zel sat down with her sword in her lap and looked up at him with a bored expression.

“You do not care about the liberation of the Gith,” she said. “You cared about the Crown of Karsus. I do not have it. Leave.”

His jaw clenched and he looked around as he noticed the stares he was getting from her companions who recognized him from the tavern. Lae’zel raised a hand as to dismiss them from taking action and kept cleaning her sword.

“I would not waste my time here if our interests did not align,” Raphael said in a low voice to her. “Your little merry band here are not suited for the task they have been given. I could lend you assistance. Soldiers whose sole life purpose is to fight.”

Lae’zel looked up at him again. She studied his face. His tone was off.

“You are afraid,” she said as if it was simply fact. “Why?”

His already sour expression soured further at the accusation.

“Careful, Lae’zel,” he warned in a dangerous tone. “You do not want to make an enemy out of me. Especially when I might prove to be your best ally in this little endeavor yet.”

She got to her feet, sword still in hand.

“Do you think me so naïve, devil?” she asked. “Do you think that I would give my soul for an incompetent group of devil soldiers? We have nothing more to discuss.”

“I am not asking for your soul, you stubborn child,” he hissed. “I am asking you to do what you set out to do and kill every last trace of Vlaakith’s vermin on this plane. I am asking you to—”

He was interrupted by the loud sound of Lae’zel’s silver sword getting sharpened on the grindstone. He saw red. He grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and snapped his fingers.

Lae’zel’s eyes were furious when she saw that she was in the House of Hope. She grasped for her sword, but it had not been transported there with her. A flash of fire danced around Raphael as he took his devil form. His wings spread out behind him and his eyes bored into hers as he adjusted his clothes and schooled a smile onto his features.

“Please, take a seat,” he said in a dark but calm tone and gestured to a chair at the table.

Lae’zel did not budge. She stared him down from where she was standing.

“You will send me back,” she hissed. “Now.”

��No,” he said in a warning tone. “You will sit down. You will behave and you will not leave the Hells before you have listened to every word I have to say. That can take minutes, hours, days, and it is entirely dependent on your behavior, my dear.”

She gave him a low growl of discontent before dragging out a chair and sitting down.

“Speak,” she ordered sharply.

Raphael sat down in front of her and crossed one leg over the other as he studied her for a moment. He would not be rushed in his own home.

“Did you ever wonder why I had the Orphic Hammer in my possession?” he asked.

She just kept staring at him with narrowed eyes, waiting for him to get to the point.

“I suppose not,” he said. “You and your dear friends were no doubt too busy at the time to ask the right questions. Had you done a little digging, you would have learned that you, in a sense, owe your miserable lives to me.”

She raised an eyebrow. There was a glimmer of something in her mind. An inscribed Githyanki slate that they had found in the Astral Plane. It depicted Vlaakith and a devil making a deal for the Astral Prism.

“Continue…” she hissed.

Raphael smiled at her.

“Come now, Laezel,” he said. “One must know a lock intrinsically in order to make a key to said lock, do they not?”

Her suspicions were proved correct, and she felt her blood boil at the revelation. Her nails dug into the armrests of the chair. She wanted to kill him.

“You made the Astral Prism…” she said in a fiery tone. “You helped Vlaakith enslave Orpheus, and you ask for my help! I should drive a sword through your skull for what you have done!”

Raphael held out a hand in a gesture to calm her.

“And I helped free him as well, did I not?” he countered. “It was business. I made most of my fortune from that deal, but I did not enslave your prince myself. Your former queen did. I did however make the Hammer as an insurance policy after I saw the mess she made. It was merely a question of time before her little scheme would be discovered.”

“And now she wants your head for defying her,” Lae’zel replied. “Should I return to the Astral Plane, then I will make sure that every living Child of Gith will want the same thing for what you have done in the first place.”

“I have done what you say,” he said. “But as I have told you, our interests align. You need allies to your cause, not enemies. I am motivated to help you.”

“Chk,” she scoffed. “You are motivated to help yourself, devil.”

“You need all the help you can get, Lae’zel…”

“You need my help,” she said. “Or else you would not be here filling my ears with your drivel.”

Raphael’s fist hit the table so hard that she thought it might split in two. She looked at him with an unimpressed glare. He leaned closer to her with fire in his eyes.

“I am being hunted for sport by Gith on the Material Plane,” he said in a low, angry voice. “I have Tiamat’s dragons circling my home here. I would never have given you or your friends the Orphic Hammer to break your precious prince’s chains, had I known you would not keep your word. The Crown of Karsus was my insurance that this would never happen. Had Tav kept her word, Vlaakith would have been snuffed out long ago.”

Lae’zel sneered at him but that did seem to calm her down for some reason.

“It was not my idea to snub you of it,” she said.

“I know,” he grumbled. “I admit, I should have made the deal with you instead of her. A mistake that will haunt me for millennia.”

She huffed in response.

“I am offering you soldiers,” he began in a softer tone. “Some who will be from the Material Plane and others from here in the Hells. In return I am only asking for you to lead them. I will guide you, of course, but you will lead them. Laws prohibit me from directly interacting in such a manner on the Material Plane.”

“I will not do it,” she said and shook her head. “Find someone else.”

Raphael looked at her with the disbelief of someone who was absolutely certain they already had the deal in the bag.

“What do you mean you will not do it?” he asked.

“What I said.”

“I can’t ‘find someone else’,” he said in an annoyed tone. “You know how Gith fight, where they hide, how they think. You will fight them regardless and I am offering you help to do so. Why would you not accept?”

“Would I sign a contract?”

“Obviously,” he said impatiently. “Though it would only be a necessary formality. I have to abide by Infernal laws.”

“Then your offer does not interest me. I will kill every last one of them, and I do not need your help, devil.”

Raphael’s claws dug into the arm of the chair to the point that she could hear the wood creak, and his jaw clenched. He raised his fingers to snap.

“Perhaps you will reconsider once more of your new friends die to your incessant stubbornness,” he grumbled. “Insolent child…”

He snapped his fingers and sent her back.

#raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 raphael #lae'zel #lae’zel bg3

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inkdrinkerworld · 11 months ago

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High Hopes pt2 sneak peek!

Cw: Mention of breakfast and Remus not having an appetite first thing in the morning! Friends to lovers (?) fluff!

—

“Oh yeah? So you’re just wearing his sweater and he’s spent the night in your room?”

You fail to hide your smile at her question and she laughs maniacally.

“I knew it!”

You stop her before she can get ahead of herself, “Nothing’s happened, we’ve just been talking and getting to know each other,”

“In all the ways.” Marlene’s eyebrows dance at her statement and you shake your head- mostly to dispel heat from your face.

“No, I asked him to spend the night in my room. He said yes, there was nothing else.”

Her eyes narrow, “No ‘good morning’ cuddles or kisses? You know you’re the only one with cute nicknames from him?”

You scoff, Marlene rolls her eyes, “‘Pretty girl’, ‘dove’, you’ve noticed only you get such nice names from Remus? He’s not exactly as forthcoming with it to anyone else.”

You ponder it for a while, sipping the remainder of your tea as you water the last plant.

“I like that he listens and he’s easy to talk to. And I feel like myself- like there’s no pretending when I’m with him, but I’ve also known him for maybe four months at best.”

Marlene touches your shoulder, “It’s not like you to go all in all at once, and that’s okay. Just don’t rush to label four months as not enough time- if you like him, and you think he likes you; I know for certain he does, but I know you need to know it too, then let it flow yeah? What’s the worst that could happen if you just see where it goes?”

Before you can answer her, Remus comes looking for you out the front door, “Breakfast’s ready, dove. Come eat before it gets cold,” he says softly, “You too Marls, before Siri passes away at the fact that you’ve been gone twenty minutes.”

She sends you a pointed look as he goes inside, calling out to Sirius.

“What’s that look for?” He asks as he takes your empty cup from you.

“Marlene’s scheming,” you say with a smile and Remus groans.

“Please nothing like her schemes that involve jumping into pools drunk again.”

You have breakfast right beside Remus, like the day before- thighs pressed together as you eat.

He doesn’t have his own plate so you divide your stack between the two of you- which he only has a couple pieces of.

“Remus you’re having breakfast?” Sirius asks pointedly and you frown.

“Does he usually not?”

James shakes his head, “Mostly toast and coffee. Or clotted cream and scones when he can manage it- never really has an appetite in the morning, our Moony.”

You look aghast as you turn to Remus who looks sheepish.

“You could’ve said something! And here I’ve been feeding you breakfast without a single thought.”

Lily and Marlene smirk at your concern and the boys roll their eyes at Remus’ bashfulness.

“S’fine, I wouldn’t have eaten if I wasn’t feeling for breakfast.” A lie. Remus would eat at whatever time you were sharing food with him. It wouldn’t matter if he’d just come back from having lunch himself.

“Now I feel like I’ve forced you into having breakfast,” you say softly and Remus kicks the shins of both the boys and glares at them.

“None o’that,” he says equally as soft, still glaring at his friends who can’t help but smile at your reaction.

Sirius and James ruin the sweet moment by miming a kiss to Remus while you’re not looking and then getting kicked again which makes them groan.

“Are we going onto the lake today?” Lily asks to change the conversation and it works perfectly.

#remuslupin #remus lupin #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin x black!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x yn #remus lupin x y/n #dealer!remus x rich girl!reader #dealer!remus #dealer!remus lupin #dealer!remus x reader

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neppys-lil-hub · 4 months ago

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Gotham's Newest...hero?

A fanfiction about the newest member in the Bat Family! Luciana Soto has had a...strange life, but it takes a turn for the worst when villains attack her school, Gotham University, and things just spiral from there.

This fic is for fun, it will avoid the "adopted by Batman" trope (sorry), and it does center on a queer women of color! Characters that will get plenty of attention (because of my personal bias) are Stephanie Brown and Cassandra Cain, but you will see most other Bat Family members and even guest DC characters in certain moments.

This is not a crack/joke story, or a short fic, it is a full blown story with a big character arc, a unique villain, and more!

Enjoy~!

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Chapter 1: I took a bullet for a clown

(4654 words)

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“So where will you go for the summer?”

“Hm? I’m sorry, what?” Luciana asked, her gaze returning to her best friend, Stephanie Brown. Stephanie was a pretty girl, with white skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes. She was wearing her signature purple hoodie. Today was their lazy day. The one time a week neither had classes and both forced themselves to put homework on hold. Simply to hang out.

“Oh, I’m going to stay here and take two summer classes,” Luciana said easily, taking a bite of her food. The restaurant they were in was attached to Gotham University, their school, and eating on the outside patio together made this Luciana’s favorite spot.

“Again?” Stephanie asked, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you want to see your family?”

“Oh, they understand it,” Luciana replied dismissively. “I’m the first in my family to go to college! The faster I graduate, the faster I can make actual money, and the faster I can help them.”

Luciana was an American-Colombian girl, a child of immigrants. Stephanie had heard the story a million times: How they had trekked from Colombia to Mexico with nothing, waited nearly a year to be allowed in, and then worked odd jobs to pay for the travel to New Jersey. Luciana herself had been born only a few months after they had entered the country, by luck not design, and had put her family on the path to citizenship.

“Sure, but are you even enjoying college? You’re here for free, Luz, on a scholarship! Don’t you think you should…relax a little?”

Perhaps it was unfair but Luciana always got annoyed when Stephanie pointed this out. It had always felt like a privileged idea to the Latina. Choosing play over her studies. She couldn’t afford to do that. Not when her family was counting on her success. Not after every day they had endured to get her here. But that wasn’t Stephanie’s fault, and in truth Luciana knew her friend was right and wasn’t just being privileged or ignorant. She really cared and Luciana really was a bit obsessed with her studies.

“I’m relaxing. Right now. With you,” Luciana said with an annoyed voice. “Besides, I have no friends back home, and you live here in Gotham.”

“Fine!” Stephanie said, slamming a hand down on the table. “Then as your friend here, I will ensure this is the BEST! SUMMER! EVER! Even with your classes going on.”

“Oh gods…please don’t,” Luciana groaned, hiding her face in her hands. Stephanie had always been free-spirited, humorous, and adventurous—the opposite of the naive, dutiful, workaholic Luciana.

“Oh come on! We could do so many things. You can drive, right? We could go to the beach, the boardwalk, Cape May, the theater, the movies-” Stephanie kept rattling off a list of wonderfully distracting activities for the summer, still standing in front of the table as she babbled off. Luciana couldn't help but sigh, her eyes softening as she watched her friend get excited.

Then Luciana heard an explosion. She only had a moment to think What? Before the shockwave sent her, Stephanie, and the other people eating around them to the ground. Glass broke. Tables flipped. Food fell on top of innocent students. People began screaming all around them. Luciana’s heart was racing as she looked up, first seeing that Stephanie was on the ground but alright, and then looking around. Next to the restaurant was a grass-covered quad, and across the quad, there was a new, large, smoking hole. A van began to drive off the street and across the grass, sending panicked students running in all directions. It was covered with pink and green graffiti, with faces drawn on the sides, and random words like “hi!” and “Robber Mobile!” painted on too.

“Everybody out! Down the street!” Luciana yelled, just as men and women with guns and white masks began climbing out. She pushed herself up and grabbed the girl beside her, easily lifting her. “Go down the street! Call the cops! Don’t stop!”

Then she grabbed the next. And the next. Others started to recover from the blast themselves, some running away down the street as well, many simply looked around in shock, and more watched the criminals pull out the van and walk into the building across from them.

“Come on! GET UP! DOWN THE STREET!” Luciana yelled over the chaos, her voice clear and firm. More students seemed to come out of their daze. Finally, as the patio appeared empty, Luciana turned to Stephanie. “We need to-”

Her heart leaped out of her chest. Stephanie was gone. So was her stuff. The criminals were across the quad and in another building, not threatening them. But it seemed Stephanie had just run. Without grabbing Luciana or even making sure she was ok. The Latina felt a lump form in her throat, but gunshots rang out and brought her back to the present. She hit the deck and covered her head, looking up for the culprits. More gunshots rang out from the building the criminals had entered. Too far to threaten Luciana but surely there were more students there.

“Fuck…” Luciana muttered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Luciana stood up and dashed inside the restaurant and towards the school. Her adrenaline was skyrocketing, her jaw clenched, and she was more afraid than she'd ever felt before. She made her way through the halls, looking to evacuate any students or (gods forbid) any wounded. As she sprinted out of the restaurant she first noticed the alarms weren’t on, so she pulled the closest fire alarm she could find. The ringing began to sound out through the building. Not just this one but any attached buildings as well. The food court, the sciences building, and the engineering department. They’d all start heading outside if they hadn’t already.

“Help!”

Without a second thought, the young woman was on the run again. She went down a hallway and towards the voice calling for help. She was quick to spot the victim- A black girl younger than her sitting among the glass of a broken window. She had small bleeding cuts over her and a nasty bruise.

“Hey, I’m here! It’s ok, come on,” Luciana started. “I got you, si? Vamos.”

“I- I can’t- I-”

Luciana had never seen someone go into shock but she assumed this must be it. At least it was similar to what she had seen in movies. Without hesitation or talk she closed the distance, her tactical boots crunching on the glass, and lifted the girl. She grunted but the girl was skinny and, thankfully, Luciana had always been strong. She carried her a few feet away and set her down away from the glass, looking over her.

“Hey, it’s ok. I’m gonna help you, yeah? And then you’ll be safe,” Luciana said in a soft and reassuring voice, gently looking over the girl, pulling her arms out to see if they were injured, and looking over at her back.

“H-H-Harley Quinn,” she sobbed, her face a mess of tears. “They- they shot into the roof. They-”

“Did she say where she was going?” The Latina asked, ripping off a piece of her white linen button-up and tying it around a particularly nasty gash on the girl's arm. She knew she had to keep a level head. The girl would stay calm and anything she learned she could tell the police.

“The Applied Physics Lab,” the poor girl said, watching as Luciana tied a knot with the fabric from her shirt.

“Ok, cool,” Luciana said. Her major didn’t require her to go to that lab. She had no clue what a supervillain could want with it. “Well, if someone like Harley Quinn is here, we need to go.” She offered the injured girl a hand, standing up. “Yeah?”

The girl watched Luciana for a few moments, who smiled reassuringly, and then slowly took her savior's hand. Luciana was quick to pull her up and guide her by the shoulder, walking briskly towards the restaurant and the outside. The girl she was helping still seemed in shock and not all there as Luciana kept a vigilant eye out, checking every corner and constantly behind them. When they turned a corner, nearly at the restaurant, that’s when both girls heard a gruff voice.

“Stop!” A woman ordered. Luciana heard a distinctive Click! of a gun’s safety going off. “Don’t move!”

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” Luciana reassured. The girl she was helping froze completely, eyes wide with fear. “Just follow my lead, si? Come on.”

“Turn around slowly,” the voice ordered. Luciana nodded, still guiding her rescue by the shoulder until both of them had turned to face one of the criminals attacking the school. A woman dressed in all black, with a white mask, and an AR-15. She was flanked by two men sporting the same gear.

“Seriously, there’s only these two?” One of the men asked.

“Taking hostages was an afterthought- She didn’t think there’d be a safe to crack,” the other sighed.

“Zip it, both of you,” the woman said, giving her new hostages a nod. “Alright, we don’t want to hurt anyone else. You listen to what we say and everyone will be fine. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Luciana answered for both of them, but the student she was helping began to panic. Her breath was quickening and she swallowed hard. Her eyes looked around as if she was getting ready to bolt. Luciana squeezed her shoulder in warning.

“Alright, they’re going to approach you and cuff you. Don’t fucking move,” the woman warned. She then gave her partners a nod.

The two men began to approach. They let their rifles hang off their shoulders as they both took out handcuffs. One approaching Luciana and one approaching the other girl. Then things started going wrong.

“Wait!” Luciana yelled, feeling the student she was holding move.

The girl ran. The woman aimed her rifle, ready to fire. One man seemed ready to grab the student and the other was still about to grab Luciana. The Latina moved as if time had slowed down, as if she could react at a higher speed, although everything only took a few moments. She grabbed the man about to cuff her by the balls and throat, surprising him greatly, and as he made a choking sound she pushed him into the woman. She cursed and raised her rifle, firing at the roof as both of them fell to the ground. The third criminal grabbed Luciana from behind, forgetting the escaping student when he heard his partners struggling, and Luciana screamed angrily as she felt her arms get pinned to her sides. She made a loud growl, almost like an animal, and slammed her foot into his. He cried out in pain as she pushed back with all her weight and knocked them both to the floor.

“Fucking grab her, there’s no one else!” The woman ordered.

“Get the fuck away from me!” Luciana yelled back, pulling one arm free from his loosened grip. She punched him in the face once, twice, three times and he finally let go.

“Don’t shoot her!” The woman ordered again, stopping the man next to her who had raised his rifle. That was a mistake. Clued into the fact they’d no longer shoot Luciana did the most logical thing: She ran.

Sprinting had never been her forte. She had loved cross country. She loved tests of endurance. But at this moment, filled with adrenaline and panic, she may as well have been the Flash. She thought of nothing but pushing her legs to move faster and faster, arms swinging tightly beside her, tight breaths forcing their way out of her lungs. She quickly began to outpace the slower criminals, her shirt flapping in the wind. Luciana ignored any corners and turns, focused solely on going as far as she could without stopping. She passed a sign that said “Applied Physics Lab.”

Wait, wasn’t that where the criminals had gone? Was Luciana’s last thought before a wooden bat appeared from around the corner and swung full force. She didn’t even have the time to cry out before it hit her, stopping her dead in her tracks and knocking her flat on her back. Pain exploded in her head and her vision went dark, white spots dancing in the void.

“I knew you guys were useless!” An oddly cheery female voice said, with a Brooklyn accent. A hand grabbed Luciana by the hair, forcing her to sit up. The student cried out in pain, blinking her eyes repeatedly. “I heard you shooting and came to check it out. Didn’t I tell you not to kill these poor kids?”

“One of them ran,” the woman’s voice answered as she caught up, panting from the chase and leaning on her knees. Luciana heard the footsteps of the men catching up after her. “I reacted. But no one got shot! It’s all good.”

“Ugh…” Luciana groaned, her vision slowly coming back. She could hardly think with the throbbing in her head. She blinked again to see the blurry version of Harley Quinn. Pale skin, blond hair tied into two pigtails, the tips of one dyed pink and the other blue. She was wearing boots, knee high socks, shorts, a tiny top, and fingerless gloves. All of it was red and black but coordinated so the color jumped from side to side in a spotted color scheme.

“Oh, you’re ok,” Harley Quinn chided. “I might not be the physical kind of doctor but I promise it’s just a concussion. Now, I need ya, but if you’re good I’ll make sure to give you to the police. Deal?”

“Maldito puta de mierda,” Luciana muttered quietly, weakly grabbing Harley’s wrist with both her hands and vainly attempting to tug her off. The hit had completely sent her body out of whack. It was like punching someone in a dream and having no strength at all, or being a flimsy marionette.Frustrating. Weak. And feeling not in control.

“I’m gonna take whatever that was as a yes!” Harley cheered. “You two: Grab her. Don’t let her run off again. The safe will be open soon.”

“If the safe’s not gonna take awhile then why did we need a hostage at all?” One of the men asked as both of them grabbed Luciana. The woman pulled her arms back and cuffed them together.

“It’s called insurance, duh,” Harley replied, walking away.

The three thugs, with Luciana cuffed and in tow, followed Harley deeper into the Applied Physics Lab. She groaned loudly, her head hanging and her feet dragging, as they took her. They went all the way to the end of the hallway where another two lackeys were kneeling in front of a wall. Luciana looked up as the group stopped walking, seeing the two were working on a safe. Or, seeing a blurry image of two figures curled over a piece of wall.

“What’s in there anyways boss? It’s gotta be worth a lot of money to raid this place in broad daylight, with all the kids,” one of the men asked.

“Do I pay you to talk or get the job done?” Harley asked, tapping her foot impatiently as the lock of the safe was slowly fiddled with.

She’s hiding something, a small voice in the back of Luciana’s head said. She’s hiding something.

“Harley…Quinn…” Luciana groaned, each word making her head pound.

“Hm? You’re still awake? Gosh, you’ve gotta feel terrible!” Harley said with a grin. Luciana frowned as she watched. Her words were humorous, cruel even, but her face…it held the tiniest bit of concern.

“Why don’t you tell them the truth?” Luciana said through gritted teeth, each word was a battle.

“Excuse me?” Harley asked, immediately narrowing her eyes in annoyance. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on, deflecting from the guy’s question? Tell them what’s in the safe.”

The two men working on the safe did not stop, but one did look over his shoulder. The other three watched Harley carefully. Luciana had realized they had not been briefed on Harley’s prize.

“Well? What are we risking so much for?” The woman, who Luciana had pegged as the ring leader by now, insisted. “You promised this score would get us paid.”

“Oh shut up! What would this brat know about anything? You’re gonna get cold feet with me because she’s running her mouth?” Harley demanded. She leaned back, crossing her arms and giving her hired help a judgemental look. But Luciana could hear the tension in her voice. She saw how Harley was still gripping her bat.

“You know, word on the street is you’ve gone soft,” the armed woman said. “And I thought it was weird when you worried about hurting the kids here. No sneaking around. Letting most of them get away.” She pulled out a pistol and held it against Luciana’s head. “What’s in the fucking safe? Tell me, and we’ll keep going like nothin’ happened.”

“Hey!” Harley barked, her frown replaced with an angry look. “I’m paying you good money. Don’t do that to her.”

Shit, shit, shit, shit! Luciana thought, her wide and panicked eyes meeting Harley’s. She had intended to cause issues for Harley, if she could, in an attempt to at least buy time. But she hadn’t meant to risk herself further.

“Then tell us what’s in the goddamned safe,” the thug insisted. She clicked the safety off and Luciana’s heart skipped a beat. This lady did not care. She’d shoot her. Kill her in cold blood.

“Ugh…well, you’ve done it now kid,” Harley said, giving Luciana a pitiful look. She sighed. “Fine, fine, I’ll tell you.”

Before Harley could reveal the truth a loud Thunk! reverberated through the floor. Everyone turned to the two lockpickers to see they had opened the safe. The large metal door had fallen to the ground, cracking it. One of the lockpickers reached in.

“Hey! I told you I’d grab it!” Harley complained.

“What is it?!” The woman yelled to her partner, still holding the gun to Luciana’s head.

Before anyone could speak another word someone else joined the fray. Luciana caught from the periphery of her vision a flash of purple. The woman’s gun was hit out of her hand, clattering to the floor and away from Luciana’s head. Before Luciana could turn her head a series of grunts and blows could be heard. She managed to catch the woman who had threatened her collapsing onto the ground, unconscious.

“So, you guys want to let the girl go? Or do you all want some of this?” Spoiler asked, her voice full of confidence. Luciana tilted her head, as confused as everyone else by her sudden appearance.

She was wearing a skintight black bodysuit with a purple bat logo plastered to the chest. Purple boots, belts, gloves, and armor on the torso decorated her. Blonde hair spilled out from underneath the purple hood and sharp blue eyes took in the situation. The vigilante’s eyes met Luciana’s for a moment, her concern clear as day, and then she tensed.

“Get the bat!” Harley yelled at her goons, grinning widely as Spoiler sprung into action.

Luciana fell to the floor as Spoiler punched one of the men holding her, the other letting go to raise his rifle at the hero. This time she didn’t try to meddle or help. Luciana held her hands over her head as gunshots rang out, and the quieter sounds of melee combat followed. A second body thudded to the ground next to Luciana. Her head was still pounding from Harley’s blow and she couldn’t even think about getting to her feet. Of running. Instead, she finally looked up.

Spoiler was left facing the two lockpickers, armed with rifles and knives, as well as Harley Quinn herself. The lockpickers had been smart enough to keep their distance, waiting for a shot and bagging whatever was in the safe, while the women fought in a deadly dance. Spoiler was aggressive and unrelenting, with no order to her blows. She punched, kicked, spun, and threw random objects as they appeared in her sight. Harley was just as unpredictable, giggling and smiling as she nimbly dodged the hero’s attacks, or simply deflected them with her bat.

They’re not serious, the voice in the back of Luciana’s head said.

What?

Luciana narrowed her eyes, watching as Harley glanced at the two lockpickers. Spoiler threw another punch but hesitated for a fraction of a second. Almost intentionally. The villain took advantage to grab her wrist, spinning her into the wall between the other two thugs harshly. Luciana flinched.

See?

Luciana watched as Spoiler quickly recovered from the blow, beginning to fight the last two hugs. She was making short work of them. Harley chuckled and leaned down, grabbing the bag with the contents of the safe, which had been dropped. It was almost like that was rehearsed. Like they were…helping each other? It made no sense to Luciana. None at all.

“No you don’t,” the woman, who had been knocked out earlier, said. Luciana looked to the left to see that thug get on her knees, hands scrambling to pick up her pistol. Spoiler was still finishing the other two thugs. Harley was walking away with her back turned. The woman picked up her weapon and in a split second Luciana reacted.

Bang!

What happened next became very unclear for Luciana. She heard Spoiler scream in anguish and found herself held in Harley’s arms. Her hands, on instinct, were clutching the new gunshot wound in her gut, pressing down weakly as if to stem the blood. Her vision blurred and her head was still pounding from earlier. Thinking became a nearly impossible task.

“Luciana!” Spoiler yelled. Luciana found some small part of her mind wondering how the hero knew her name, but she couldn’t focus on that question. Spoiler’s hands clutched Luciana’s, pressing down painfully on the wound. “You’re going to be alright. You hear me? Hey?”

“Bats? We need a pick up now,” Harley said, tapping a communicator in her ear.

They were working together. The realization gave Luciana great satisfaction. The voice in her head had been right. The way Spoiler and Harley’s fight had aroused her suspicion, how perfectly it had been working out for them both, Harley’s reluctance to admit what was in the safe, or to hurt anyone. She had been working with Spoiler. Luciana chuckled softly, groaning in pain.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey” Spoiler said, her voice impossibly soft. She cupped Luciana’s cheek in one hand. Blood stained it. “Don’t laugh. Don’t move. And don’t sleep, ok? Just stay calm. We’re going to get you out of her.”

“I knew Harley wasn’t bad,” Luciana said softly, her mind dizzy. All she could feel was herself slipping away, and that one bit of pride. If she had to get shot for someone at least it hadn’t been a super villain. Not really.

The world seemed to fade to black. When Luciana regained consciousness she was in a car that was driving way too fast. Someone was sitting right behind her, holding Luciana securely in their arms, and red stained bandages were wrapped around the wounded girl’s torso.

“What?” Luciana asked softly, her head rising from its slumped position.

“Hey, are you still with us? Stay awake,” Spoiler’s voice said. She was the one holding Luciana upright in this car. “We’re going to get you help. We’re almost there.” She sounded anxious. Deathly afraid, even.

“Don’t feel bad,” Luciana pleaded. “This isn’t your fault.”

“No, Luci, don’t talk like that,” Spoiler said. “Shut up. You’re going to be fine.”

“It’s not your fault-”

Spoiler took a bottle of water; A large, black, metal one and poured it over Luciana’s head. Suddenly, the world became clearer. She could hear, see, and think better. She could feel her pain more. Luciana gasped and blinked several times, looking around the vehicle. She felt one arm hold her firmly as the other held the bottle to her lips.

“Drink,” Spoiler ordered. Luciana didn’t think twice as she grasped the bottle and desperately downed the rest of it, ignoring the droplets that spilled down her chin. She was just so thirsty. It almost felt like a lifeline- Keeping her aware.

“Where are we going?!” Luciana asked, panicked. “I- Ugh!” The pain from her concussion (thank you, Harley) returned in full force as she moved. Spoiler pulled Luci back against her.

“Someplace safe, ok? You don’t have to worry,” she promised. “We stemmed the bleeding. A doctor is going to fix you up. One we trust.”

“Wait, are you talking about, like, stitches?” Luciana asked, swallowing hard. “Or is the bullet still in me?”

“...”

“Is the bullet still in me or-”

“Yes, yes it is!” She replied quickly, a familiar tone of annoyance present in her reply. “But it’s ok, we’ve got you. Just keep calm and breathe.”

That familiar tone began to bother Luciana. She tried to look over her shoulder but her gut filled with pain, forcing her to look ahead. She looked down to see blood had leaked and stained her jeans and boots before she got bandaged. A lot of blood. She began to feel woozy at the sight. The effect of the water was short term. Her head was throbbing and her vision was going in and out.

“Hey, you ok? Try to stay awake. We’re almost there, yeah?” Spoiler said, her voice alarmed and full of worry. “Hurry up!”

“Trying!” A voice in front of Luciana and Spoiler called. The voice was awkward. Foreign. But not an accent Luciana herself recognized. She would have tried to take a look at the driver but then their destination came into view: Wayne Manor.

“What…?” Luciana murmured. Her vision was darkening. But why Wayne Manor? Wasn’t that out of the way? Surely, there were hospitals closer to Gotham University?

“It’s ok,” Spoiler reassured once more, her voice gentle. “It’s ok.”

“Ay no,” Luciana murmured, feeling herself losing consciousness. Her head fell back and her vision went dark. Before she lost all sense she felt the car going underground, entering a tunnel or something of the sort, and then she was out.

Finally, Luciana woke up one last time. Her eyes shot open and were looking up at a roof. She felt disoriented and lost. There was some sense that time had passed. Not just a few minutes but a long time. And gods did she have to pee. Her first thought was that she had blacked out. She wasn’t proud of it, but it happened. Sometimes she had too much to drink and woke up with no memories and Stephanie making her breakfast.

“Ste-” She tried to call out, but her dry throat cracked and irritated, the name turning into a fit of coughing. She covered her mouth and sat up. Or at least she tried to. The pain in her lower right side shifted like a tight thread through her stomach and she groaned, laying back down.

“Steph!” Luciana called out loudly, one arm shifting to cover her eyes from the light. What had happened, exactly? “STEPH!”

“She is not here,” a strange voice said. The same from the BatMobile. Luciana blinked in surprise and suddenly remembered the drive. The rush. The gunshot wound.

“Que pasó?” Luciana murmured, lifting her head to look down at herself. Her heart skipped a beat.

An IV drip was inserted in her arm. She was wearing a hospital gown. She was clearly not in her college dorm. Her head had a pounding headache that she was just becoming conscious about, and her gut throbbed lightly. Her heart began racing as a figure stood up from a seat in a shadowed corner and walked into the light, revealing herself.

“Orphan?” Luciana asked, eyes widening.

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idunnoficsorsumthing · 1 year ago

Text

surprise

Bobby Nash x reader

Warnings: 18+ readers only. Mentions of abortion, and smut soo 18 +only.

The echoing sound of birds chirping outside woke you up. Bobby was the one that liked to stay in and sleep the day away more than you anyway. Usually you’d take the time to go for a run before work. It wasn’t public that you and Bobby were in a relationship and the two of you like to keep it that way. It simply was easier that way. After your history with bad men it was nice to know there was a good one out there. You were happy to be home after your visit to your cousin's house, she had asked you to help out with two of her children while she was in the hospital giving birth to her third. You loved your cousin like a sister, but those children were devils, and the best birth control you could ever get was to spend a week with them. You cling against his hot skin, as you try to think the nausea away. His big arms wrapped around you in his hazy awakening. “Morning” he said, his low voice sounded like he was seconds away from falling asleep again. He pecked a soft kiss against your skin, allowing his hand to move over your stomach placing his hand on your side. The second his warm hand moved over your skin the nausea became more present, and the dire urge to throw up rose. You pushed his big arm away and ran for the bathroom. The contents of your stomach ended up floating in the toilet bowl. Those evil kids must have given you some kind of stomach bug.

Most of your ‘relaxing’ morning had been spent next to the toilet bowl. Bobby had brought you some juice though you didn’t drink any. You thought about telling him you were too sick to go to work though nearing eleven it wasn’t as bad.The next couple of days the nausea hadn’t been bad, sometimes the nagging feeling of wanting to throw up whenever you were around certain smells, such as Buck after the gym.

It wasn’t raising too many alarm bells until the team responded to a 911 call near a place that sold greasy foods, and you couldn’t help but barf on the side of the street hiding away from the patient. Bobby walked over to you when he knew the patient was in good hands with Hen. “Do you need medical attention?” He said, handing you a sympathetic look. You shake your head. “No, it 'll pass just like last time.” You said, referring to the other call the other day that caused you to puke your guts out. “You think you are maybe pregnant?” he asked softly. You looked at your boyfriend in disbelief. No way. NO freaking way your thoughts entered your mind as you try to do the mental math about how many weeks ago your last period was. The others were standing near the victim attending his care. “You still have swimmers?” You asked in a mocking shock. You were on birth control. It would be absolutely ridiculous for you to even think about being pregnant. “Hey! my swimmers go for olympic gold okay.” He defended. A little too loud for what he intended probably, as Hen looked up, and gave you a strange look. “I don’t think I am.” you tell him. He just said you’d talk about it at home.

It took you the entire afternoon to think about you having the possibility of it being a child. You had never thought of yourself as a mother. You never enjoyed spending time with children, and then all the complaining other parents do…. It just didn’t seem like something for you. However, the thought of the possibility of having a child with the man you love seemed different. The two of you made it home after the shift, and the take out dinner was set on the table. He was digging into his chinese food while you were stirring your food through your noodles, hesitant to start eating. “We were careful.” You mumbled as you could tell Bobby had barely spoken to you. He looked up from his plate. He raised his eyebrow. “No we weren’t.” he said, gulping his coke. “Okay well I don’t know I just thought at your age it was unlikely.” You tell him. He nodded and shoved another bite of food in his mouth. “We don’t know anything yet.” he said, you look at him. He had that look on his face when he tried to look happy but you could see past that. “If I am, I know we have options” you opted. Though your heart sank in your chest as you said that. He dropped his fork with a clatter on the plate. “A child is a blessing, y/n” He said, it was almost like he said it out of his belief as a catholic. “I would understand if you don’t want one.” you argued. “I mean after everything you’ve been through.” He stood up from his seat like he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act. “ I can’t believe you want an abortion.” he said, looking like he was about to yell or scream or hit a wall or something. “ I just don’t think either of us have what it takes.” you said, the two of you stared at each other trying to think of the words. He didn’t even respond to the last thing you said. “Bobby-” you started. He didn’t want to hear it. “I’ll go get one of those damn tests.” he said, he rushed out of the apartment with his keys jangling as the last notable sound came from him. Tears rushed to your eyes, and the sound of sobbing was the only thing that echoed through the room.

You had been crying on the couch for a while now waiting for him. You wanted for him to comfort you, and tell you it was okay. Though this time you didn’t think you knew what to say or how to make it alright. His doubt for this baby made you want it even more. Somehow the thought of him not wanting it made you protective over your unborn baby. You finally hear the door unlock, and see Bobby walking in. This time the anger had turned into sadness. Neither of you had wanted to say anything to one another. Though as you wiped the tears from your cheek he gestured for you to join him in the bathroom.

The two of you sat on the bathroom floor. Neither of you were saying anything after the words the two of you spoke to each other earlier. The feeling of sadness as this was a milestone in life to be happy about, and instead you were worried how you would feel after knowing what that stick said. You had been getting lost in your thoughts, while Bobby was staring at the test on the ground that was there upside down. You sat in a cross legged position while he had one leg lying on the ground while his other knee was up resting his hand on the knee. The timer went off, and Bobby reached for it. “I love you” You said, as he touched it. “I love you too.” He said, a faint smile appeared on his face.

You moved closer to him till you were close enough to feel his breath on your skin. He flipped the test to show the result. Pregnant. The two of you looked at each other. The silence was deafening. He reached for you pressing his lips forcefully against your lips. You kiss him back it felt like all the emotions of this day were in that kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and he is pressed against the wall of the bathroom. He pulls you against his chest. You start to reach for his buttons on his blouse that he was wearing exposing part of his chest. You start to suck at the base of his neck, as he starts helping you out of your shirt, exposing your bare breasts to the cold air. Your sensitive nipples hard, as he glides his hands over them. You let your head fall back, as he helps you to the ground of the bathroom floor. The cold tiles cause you to shudder from the temperature change. Bobby licks at your nipples, seeing how you respond so intensely to one touch makes you feel his hard cock pressed against your leg. Normally he would take his time to get you ready for him. Tonight he seemed too eager. He helps you out of your shorts, and touches your core, feeling the wetness coat his fingers. His eyes had darkened, and he seemed out for only one thing. Fucking out his frustrations. He doesn’t even bother taking off all clothes, instead he lowers his pants to allow his cock to flop against his stomach. It looked painfully hard, as he started to rub it against you to prepare you for him entering. With one push he glides his cock through your wet folds. “Bobby” you mewled. He didn’t give you much time to adjust to his size before he started trusting. His thrusts were hard as he started rubbing your clit trying to get you off. He let his hand glide to your stomach. “I always thought you couldn’t get more beautiful.” He grunted. The thrusts didn’t slow down; instead each time he pulled out you felt empty and wished he would pick up his pace. “You’ll be so beautiful pregnant with my child.” the words coming from his mouth caused your walls to tighten around his cock. You moan his name over and over again as you come around him. “That’s a good girl, cum for me.” he grunted as he quickened his pace, it didn’t take long for him to release inside you.

Afterwards, Bobby had turned on the bath for you. The warm water engulfed your body while he was sitting next to the tub, simply looking at you. “Thank god i’m already pregnant, this would be a terrible way to conceive.” you said, this queued a genuine laugh from Bobby. “Sure this is a much better story to tell our child.” he said, you slap him against your arm. There fell a silence between the two of you. “Are you happy?” you ask him. There never had been so much said in the silences between you two as today. “I am” he said: “I was- you were trying to be understanding for me.” he didn’t look at you instead he focused on the ripples of the water. “I took it wrong, I realized that a little late.” He took your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles. “I’m happy too.”

#bobby nash x reader #bobby nash #911 #911 fox #captain nash

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kommandonuovidiavoli · 4 months ago

Note

Obviously don't answer if it's a spoiler but...

In the show we saw how badly Kuki dealt with things she loved being taken from her / kept out of her reach. Like when her rainbow monkeys were stolen or when Bradley was hurt. So all this to say, how did she take it when Wally (presumably her best friend and the person she loves most in the world) was...taken from them?

I love that these came one after the other because one is the answer to the other.

Long story short, she didn't take it well.

[TW: eating disorder, depression, bad family relationships]

Things were actually going on since the teen AU. I wanted to do a comic or something but due to the nature of it, I don't think I'll ever actually do it, so here's the explanation.

When she turned 13, Kuki started having some hormone problems that made her gain weight (not too much, but she had to be careful about what she ate). Her family noticed immediately, and they started to rudely point out how she was getting fat and using not so nice words to express their discontent. It arrived at a point (in the teen AU) where she wouldn't eat anything during the day, especially in front of other people, feeling ashamed and fearing they would point it out, especially Wally. This only resulted in an uncontrollable hunger in the nighttime, where she would eat whatever was in the fridge and start to hide snacks she bought under the bed when her parents found out what was going on.

Wally was the first to find out what was going on and tried to help her as much as he could, but he really ended up using the wrong words and making her feel worse (not on purpose, but if you don't know how to tackle certain things, you end up worsening the process).

Things seemed to stabilize when she found out she was pregnant, and her hunger somehow was reduced. She passed those months mostly at Wally's place (because it was hell at her own) and the two planned on getting decommissioned, buying a house, and finding stability. Nigel suggested buying the house in front of his own since it was vacant, and with some help from everyone, they managed to secure it and pay it slowly. Their new life looked promising.

Then Wally disappeared.

She tried all she could to keep a happy demeanor, especially for the baby, but as days passed and Wally was nowhere to be found, she felt that hunger return, and found some comfort... too much comfort in food.

Luckily Nigel got to her before it got too out of hand, and for some months lived at her place to make sure she and the baby were ok.

Abby and Hoagie visited whenever they could to help as well, and when finally even the Beetles had sorted their problems out (because yeah, THEY LOST A SON!) they were more than happy to help her with the house, the baby, and more. Especially Lou, for some reason. He was the one Kuki let out about her problem with food, and he suggested getting some help, at least for the sake of the baby.

She did, and in a few months, she also managed to get a job and "move on" as much as she could.

After the Nightmare War (which she didn't know about because of decommission, she just knew there was a huge accident at the Villa down the lane and Nigel was involved), she helped Nigel get back in shape and took care of Penny. Keeping herself busy was her way to not think about problems, and she made sure to always smile to make herself believe it was ok.

She also managed to find a new love interest (not sure if it's going to be OC or canon, still working on this part), so when the Beetles moved back to Australia, she had help and support for herself and Sami.

She had some ups and downs, but overall she held up pretty well on her own, she always managed to find a good side on everything!

Eventually, she and the new partner would break up, and he slowly disappeared from her life, leaving another hole. Again, she found relief in food but in an unhealthy way, this time it got her to the hospital.

She got back up on her feet, just in time for Wally's return. The two didn't get back together immediately, Wally also stayed at Nigel's for a few months so as not to push himself on her and Sami, but they eventually let feelings win.

At this point of the Adutl AU, she has her memories back, is working a job as a daycare teacher, and is still fighting eating problems, where she might not eat for some time.

Luckily, this time Wally is prepared and knows how to help, support, and make her feel loved and special ❤️❤️❤️

#wow this got long whops #adult au #kuki sanban #some lore on the best girl shall we?#eating disorder//#depression//#bad family relationships//

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kranagok0 · 18 days ago

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Name: Ferrán

Birthday: 04 of November

Age: 9 years

Species: ½ human and ½ fairy

Gender: Male

👍: He likes cartography, exploring (not as much as Hilda), dramas, comedy, taking walks with her grandmother (Astrid is her 'grandmother') and eating jam. any jam will do.

👎: the spiciness, not remembering things, bad jokes (she hates them), not being able to return to Tofoten and not being able to make a map well.

Trivia;

1- He may seem like someone who is patient, but since he is still a child of no more than 10 years old, it is normal that he sometimes loses his composure for simple reasons or that something does not turn out the way he wanted. The most common feeling is sadness and anger in these cases.

2- As already mentioned, Ferrán loves to eat meat and other things of animal origin. Since he moved in with Hilda he hasn't been able to eat these foods as freely as he would like since she doesn't like that. They have had several complaints with each other for these reasons.

3- Even with what was said above, they get along well. They both like to explore places they have not seen before, Hilda drawing or exploring and Ferrán looking for a perfect place to do his cartography.

4- Ferrán was not with Hilda when she went on her trip in search of elves to prevent them from moving. He was at home thinking about Astrid and if she would ever come back for him. What a scare he got when he barely left the house and said house ended up being crushed by a giant.

History:

Ferrán is adopted, at least that was what has always been clear to him from the first day he became aware of himself and his environment. He is repeatedly reminded of this by Astrid.

He has been with Astrid all his life and considers her his grandmother. She took care of Ferrán the first years of his life and loves him very much. Ferrán took a liking to cartography at some point in his life and decided that he would make maps.

which means that she would have to go exploring in many places... and this was a problem for Astrid because of certain fairy mounds that were in Tofoten

Astrid loved Ferrán as if he were her own son, and the mere thought that she could lose him terrified her. It hurt him so much to leave him with Johana that he couldn't even see her cute little face again.

Astrid told him that it was a small visit to her close relatives (Johana and Hilda) and that after the weekend she would return to Tofoten.

The days passed and there was no indication that he would even see Astrid in person again.

This made Ferrán sad for a while....

The good thing is that Hilda was there to encourage him, she was a good person, a positive influence in his life. In the end it didn't take him long to adapt to living with Hilda and Johanna.

And so it was until the giant floored the house and they had to move again, and just as poor Ferrán was adapting to his new home, he now had to go to another new home.

______

I finally finished filling out the information about Ferrán. This character occurred to me one day when I had nothing to do.... Well, I was at work and I was in a state of dissociation that made me waste my time, but they are mere details.

And yes, as you can see in his description, Ferrán is a hybrid. And no, I won't add some new fairy on earth just because. And it doesn't take a genius to know whose son he could be at this initial point in the story. And yes, she tries her best to hide that fact from everyone.

With this I say goodbye, and I really hope to upload content again like before.... Although it's not like it was much, but it starts somewhere.

#hilda oc #hilda series #hilda netflix #hilda #hilda the series #hilda (netflix)#hilda (hilda)#hilda the show #astrid hilda #hilda astrid

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mothxmoons · 2 years ago

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Chris’ roommate

You were Chris’ roommate, a civilian, a teacher, his old friend. Just a chance visit at his office when he forgot his pack was met with an encounter that you could never forget.

You were cleaning up your room, you couldn’t find something so you just decided to sort through everything until you found it. So you were in your room for…a while. Chris even came in to let you know that he was leaving for work, that’s how early you got up and went looking for…aw dammit you forgot what you were looking for. You could always finish this later, you need to stretch. You opened your door to go out to the living room, it was a nice apartment, given that you and Chris lived together, you two could afford a nicer apartment.

You were his friend from middle school, you helped with Claire after their parents had died, you were his best friend and the only person he has not dated in high school. He was…a bit of a heartbreaker back then, and he hadn’t exactly stopped either but he has mellowed out drastically compared to back then. You used to have a crush on him but you never actually told him that. You figured it wouldn’t work out so you never said anything, moved on, and then moved in with him as a roommate. You shook your head, clearing your thoughts, before seeing a certain work bag left next to the door.

“Chris…” You groaned, usually he remembered to bring his things but some times you’d have to remind him. You looked over to the clock on the wall, hoping he could still turn around to grab it. But it had been an hour since he left though, so he must be at work by now.

You sighed, grabbing the bag and heading over to the landline in the kitchen, dialing in the RPD work line.

“Chris, you left your bag here.” You said to him as soon as you were patched through to his desk phone.

“Oh! Shit. I can’t believe I forgot it.” Chris groaned, you could hear the laughter of someone in the background and the creak of his chair. “Could you bring it over? Captain Wesker would kill me if I left to go grab it.”

“Chris…” You groaned, looking over to the kitchen. The dumbass forgot his lunch too. “Fine. I’ll bring you your lunch too, idiot.”

You could hear another laugh over the line, but Chris didn’t seem to care.

“Oh! The lunch you made me! Oh please bring that too!”

You remembered him asking if you could make him lunch yesterday since you had the day off the next day, today, as you had an appointment that got cancelled last minute. He was always a sucker for the food you made him, ate everything, would probably eat the plate too if he could. You hung up, grabbing the lunch you prepared for him yesterday, and went out the door.

Driving wasn’t much of a hassle and finding a parking space wasn’t either. The police station was big though and you did have to ask the front desk where Chris Redfield was but they were more than happy to help. You could only hope they didn’t think you weren’t the new girlfriend. Shaking off whatever your mind could come up with you walked up the stairs to the second floor, following the directions the front desk gave to the STARS office. With his bag over your shoulder and his lunch in hand you immediately walked in and dumped it into his lap.

“Care to remember and not make your roommate come all this way?” You asked as his teammates looked at you, they had very wide eyes or arched eyebrows.

“Aw! Roommate? But we’re friends!” He insisted, he was teasing of course, making you roll your eyes and push his head.

“I would sell you to the devil for a penny.” You replied, a woman holding her mouth to hide a chuckle from her.

“Jill!” Ah, so that’s her name. You remember that she’s one of the two people he’d often talk about often when he spoke about work, the other one was-

“Chris, what’s going on?” A new voice spoke, making you turn away from your roommate and to the new man. He was tall, blonde and wore sunglasses inside which you found ridiculous. But…he looked damn good in uniform so you supposed it could slide. Everyone else seemed to tense up and focus on their work, trying to look like they’re not eavesdropping.

“Oh! Captain Wesker, my uh…my roommate was dropping off some things I forgot at home!” Chris said quickly, he was nervous. You remember that name, Wesker was his boss Chris would complain about.

“Roommate? So you do exist. I thought he was using roommate as an excuse to miss work from time to time.” His voice was so nice, you had to admit you could listen to it forever.

“I wouldn’t put it past him.” You agreed, you never asked for Chris’ help a lot, if at all, so if he used you as an excuse to skip work…yeah that sounds like him.

“Hey!” Chris yelled out, a little flustered.

“Unsurprising, your roommate agreed, huh, Chris?” Wesker teased along with you, it seems like he enjoyed doing this to him too.

“Hey!!” Chris was pissed now, two people teasing him at once, what a laugh! The others seemed to be trying to keep themselves from laughing as well.

He groaned, dropping his bag on the floor and his lunch on his desk, and stormed off, probably to the bathroom, to cool down.

Wesker turned to you after watching Chris storm off, putting out his hand and introducing himself.

“I’m Albert Wesker, Captain of STARS.” He smiled slightly, shaking your hand. You introduced yourself as well, smiling back. “I have to be honest, I didn’t think he had a roommate at all for a while. Thought he was dropping work for a girlfriend.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t be surprised.” You shrugged, pointing at the things you brought. “I was just dropping off the things he left at home.”

“That sounds like Chris.” He nodded, he seemed to be enjoying talking to you. He pointed at the lunch on Chris’ desk curiously. “Chris doesn’t normally have his own lunch, usually he goes out.”

“Ah- yeah, Chris had asked I make him lunch for today since I have the day off.” You replied, looking over to the bag and back at him. “Can’t believe he forgot it.”

Wesker nodded and politely walked you to your car all while talking to you. The others seemed surprised when he did that, that he even talked to you for more than an introduction.

According to Chris later that day, Wesker seemed happier the rest of the day. You were glad you got to make someone happier just by talking to them. Although you couldn’t help but be curious what kind of guy he was. Especially since he didn’t seem to be liked being called by his first name by others. Oh well. You had work to do tomorrow.

Wesker was in a good mood, to put it simply, even as he went to Umbrella for even more work to do, he met someone new who didn’t make him feel like he wanted to strangle someone. He was working late that night in the lab with William, probably his only actual friend in the city. Typing away at a report when Annette came into the lab.

“You need to pick Sherry up tomorrow, I have a meeting with some of the scientists.” Was all she said and she didn’t even wait for an answer before leaving the room. She always seems to do that, state something to someone and then just leaves. Wesker has no idea why William married her but it’s not his life.

William turns to him, looking at him with a face that says, “I’m going to ask something of you.”

And he did, “We only have the one car.” Of course that was it. Wesker sighs and he knows damn well he’s not going to let William drive his car alone.

“Where is the school?” He asked, almost in a defeated tone. William smiled and handed him a flier about the school, this is definitely a school Annette picked out. Good area, nice neighborhood, great graduation statistics. Just a good school overall it seems. He sighed again, rubbing his brow.

The next day came faster than he hoped, William would never shut up about Sherry. Wesker knew why and he can see why, Sherry is his best friend’s daughter and he loves her. Sherry is very sweet, a little shy and very smart. William does have a lot to be proud about. And he knows it too, as he goes on and on about her and what her teacher tells him about her learning. Wesker thinks that after what he and William went through, he wouldn’t want his kid going through that either. He almost zoned out at William talking about Sherry before William’s arm almost slammed against his chest pointing at the school, causing him to swerve a bit before they got over to the building safely.

William was very excited to be picking up Sherry, he always was, so excited he grabbed Wesker by the forearm and dragged him to her classroom. Even when he had offered to stay in the car so he can pick her up and spend some time with her. He supposed there are some similarities between Annette and William. He stared at the big door of the classroom, decorated with names of the students, and the teacher’s name on the top of the door.

William was essentially bouncing up and down, he made them get here early just to talk to the teacher. And as soon as the last bell rang, he opened the door and called out for her, Wesker following a little awkwardly. So many little kids stared up at them, mainly at him and “whispered” about his glasses.

Sherry ran up to them and hugged her dad before taking him over to the teacher’s desk, this must be a common occurrence. However, Wesker was surprised to see you sitting there. Leaning up from getting something from the bottom drawer of your desk. He immediately walked over, watching you and William talk about Sherry.

As soon as William was distracted by Sherry showing him what her class did that day, he walked up to you.

“What a coincidence this is.” He says, gaining your attention from one of the other kids giving you a drawing they made for you. He smiled softly, out of the corner of his eye he could see William making the stupidest smug face he had ever seen. But ignored him in favor of talking to you.

“Wesker. A pleasure to see you again.” You replied, smiling such a sweet smile to him. He could feel himself relaxing, which was a surprise to him.

“The pleasure is all mine. I didn’t know you were a teacher.” He said, wanting to keep the conversation going.

“Well, I don’t normally talk about my job since Chris is usually asleep the second he comes home.” You were smiling as he sat across from you, William and Sherry watching the whole exchange happen.

He nodded and asked, “What made you want to be a teacher?”

You gestured to the drawings your students had given you over the year, even one from Sherry it seemed.

“I get to teach a new generation of children every year. I get to see them grow up and learn.” You seemed so fascinated and genuine in your career. That’s a breath of fresh air for him, someone who cares for their job because of what they get to do for others. He nods, understanding where you’re coming from.

Even as the kids start to leave, you chat with Wesker, he doesn’t even seem to care he’s sitting in a very small seat where he looks ridiculous, still in his captain uniform too. It’s William that tells him they have to go, instead of the other way around like Wesker thought it’d be like.

“Mr. Wesker? Are you going to marry my teacher?” Sherry asked suddenly as they walked into the parking lot. “I think you two would be cute together.”

“Wh-what? Sherry!” Wesker said, surprised at her blunt response. William laughed and nudged his shoulder.

“She’s got a point, old friend.” William chimed in, setting Sherry up in the backseat.

“William.” Wesker says pointedly at his friend, but he can’t help but imagine that. Married to a teacher who can cook and take care of kids so genuinely. He’ll have to say sorry to Chris for taking his roommate and making them his spouse, but he wouldn’t actually be sorry. William laughed again, opening up the passenger side and getting into the car.

As they drive off back to the lab, Wesker thinks he might just become the go-to pick up for Sherry.

#albert wesker x reader #resident evil x reader #wesker x reader

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social-mockingbird · 2 years ago

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keldabe kisses are the windows to the soul (pt. 1)

(tech x reader)

pt. 2 here! pt. 3 here!

well. i wrote this before i caught up on season two of the bad batch and i’ve been procrastinating on posting it so here we are. this is what happens when you let a girl go on a rant about how pretty she thinks clones’ eyes are and additionally give her an adorable nerdy neurodivergent clone boy to crush on. there is an implied past kix x reader because i love him, but this is primarily about tech. i plan on posting a part two once i figure out how flirting works again! this is pretty much the Hurt/Comfort before the Fluffy Romance. :)

author’s rec: if i say samuel kim’s version of burying the dead how quickly will y’all eat me

________

Clones, as a general rule, are supposed to look the same.

Regulation hair, dark eyes, 1.83 meters tall. Callused hands, chiseled faces. Uniform speaking patterns.

Clones, as an unspoken rule, look nothing alike.

Part of this is their own doing—dyed hair, tattoos, dialects picked up after deployment, senses of humor. But there is also something innate to their differences. Clones are human beings, despite what Kaminoan scientists would have you believe, and humans can’t help but be unique.

Plus, it’s in the eyes.

No one could convince you differently. Back before the Order—before everything—you’d swear up and down to anyone who listened about how stupid it was that people got your boys mixed up. You understood, to a certain degree. You were a medic and you were trained to tell the difference. And the clones who refrained from tattoos or piercings or didn’t have gnarly scars did closely resemble one another.

But it took the smallest amount of effort to see how Jesse’s eyes had an almost greenish tint to them in the sun, completely different to the warm orange humor of Fives’ eyes. Echo—before everything—had the darkest eyes, nearly black even in the light, and you’d once gotten close enough to Fox to see two flecks of blue in his right eye.

Before everything, the boys had taught you the few bits of Mandalorian culture they knew. Besides some terms (and swears) in Mando’a, they’d taught you the Keldabe kiss. Bumping foreheads became a normal part of your routine when you sent them out of the medbay, even after Fives teasingly admitted to you that it usually had a more romantic connotation to it. You’d smiled, gently, and Keldabe kissed him so hard he’d fallen backwards on his butt.

After that it had become something you all looked forward to, a gentle thing so different from the harshness of war, sharing a moment of peace and eye contact before you parted. For you and Kix, working late nights in the medbay, it danced along the edge of something deeper when you kissed each other goodnight, hands and lips touching as well as foreheads.

And everything changed.

The Order. The Empire. The running and hiding and screaming and dying.

And oh, the worst part was your boys—the ones that made it—marching in uniform armor, white like bones, eyes dark and dead and colorless behind black visors.

There was no telling them apart now. The Empire had made sure of that.

So you’d jumped planets until you’d gotten a job in Cid’s Parlor on Ord Mantell, working behind the bar, mixing drinks and patching wounds, keeping your heart kind and closed, as far from Coruscant and the clones and the Empire as you dared to be. Cid was a fair boss, a strange spot of light in the neon night your world had become. She paid you well enough to cover rent and food and flowers and ignored the times you came out of the bathroom with wet cheeks and red eyes. Cid always insisted she kept you around because you could mix a flameout as well as you could set a broken wrist, and you’d saved her from several lawsuits in the past couple of months. But you knew she enjoyed having another person around.

And everything changed.

They shuffled in one by one, taking off buckets so gloriously marked and painted you were positive it was a trick of the light. But when the last one in line pulled his bucket off with the only hand he had, revealing pale skin and paler eyes, you cried out. Next moment you were holding Echo’s face in your hands, running your thumbs gently over his cheeks, tears blurring everything but the shine in his eyes, so much lighter, but still the same.

“I thought you’d died, vod,” you sobbed, bringing your foreheads together. There were scars and plugs circling his head, and a screwdriver where his right hand used to be. But this was one of your boys, untainted, back from the dead, and he was whispering Mando’a in your ear as he hugged you.

Cid was quick to pull you and the rest into the back rooms, afraid to draw too much attention. You sat with your thighs touching Echo’s, head on his shoulder, watching Cid bargain with Hunter, who looked more haggard than when you’d last met.

You knew this squad, a group of reject clones who’d formed a force near the end of the war. Wrecker had frequented your section of the medbay after his risky escapades; Hunter was always the one picking him up. They’d added a little girl, Omega, sunshiny and blonde, and from the way they all watched her you were pretty sure she was the reason they were in hiding. Omega stared unabashedly at you, big eyes inquisitive and nervous. She’d nestled up next to Wrecker on the opposite corner of the room.

The last clone in the squad caught your eye. He’d barely said a word since being unceremoniously shoved into the back rooms, instead choosing to tap furiously on a datapad. It was impossible to see his eyes through the blue glare from the datapad and his thick goggles. You remembered Wrecker rambling about Tech one day when he’d come into the medbay with a broken finger. From the way he’d been described, he was serious and shy, two traits Wrecker couldn’t understand but loved anyway. He certainly looked very serious, jaw set as he worked, shoulders hunched. He had longer fingers than most clones and seemed a bit taller, too. You guessed those were just a couple of the abnormalities that had singled him out, before everything.

Then you felt Tech’s eyes on you. He’d caught you staring and was now fully focused on your face, raising one eyebrow in confusion. Without the glare from the datapad you could see the eyes behind his goggles.

Pretty eyes. Big, golden, almost starry eyes. The rest of his face was stoic, but oh, you could read his soul through those eyes.

He was beautiful. And you hadn’t expected that one bit.

Tech blinked, confused that you kept staring without saying anything. A bit of the seriousness melted from his expression and was replaced by the cutest furrow between his eyebrows.

“Can I…help you with something?”

Echo stopped rubbing your back and glanced at you, suddenly aware of the staring contest you’d been having with his brother.

“Oh, no, sorry, just staring off into space—didn’t mean to worry you,” you managed, and Tech nodded once, returning to his work.

Echo, for his part, said very little. He only smiled, glancing at Tech, then you, a hint of his former humor glinting in his eyes.

You blushed and hid your face in his chest to avoid the question you knew he was thinking.

gosh look at him he’s so CUTE

#the bad batch #the bad batch tech #tbb #tech tbb #tech is adorable #tech x reader #tech x you #star wars #vera writes things #tech deserves a lot of love and I’m trying to figure out how to write him having game but also being shy #because like I actually have a template for that somewhat from the show but HOW #I will figure it out and it will be cute

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sequinsmile-x · 1 year ago

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This is Our Place, We Make The Rules - Chapter 6 - Bad Day

A collection of non-sequential mini-fics and one-shots of Hotchniss and their life at home.

Chapter 6 - Bad Day

-x-

Hi friends <3

Today is World Mental Health Day, and for a multitude of personal reasons, it's something I will literally never shut up about.

I was at work today, running a bake sale to raise money for a mental health charity, thinking about everything. How difficult the world is to live in at the moment, how the news is just...terrible at every turn, and how it can all feel so overwhelming.

I just want you to know that you are loved, you are valued, and the world is infinitely better for having you in it.

This is just a little something I wrote about Emily having a bad day, and Aaron knowing exactly what she needs and being that for her.

(Note: just a reminder that the one shots in this series are linked, but not sequential)

Love you all <3

-x-

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Mentions/references to depression

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

It always managed to sneak up on her.

No matter how long she’d been living with them or how often they would happen, the bad days would always surprise her. She’d tell herself that the lack of energy that would always appear in the lead-up was because she’d been working hard, as if there was any other way her job would allow her to work. Or she’d say the lack of appetite was because she’d eaten a big meal earlier in the day, all while valiantly avoiding Aaron’s eye contact, his concern for her always triggered before her concern for herself.

She’d always wake up one morning, almost always a day off as if her body and mind let her survive on fumes, her tank running on empty, until she could stop and think, unable to bring herself to do anything. The simple thought of pushing away the covers, heavy and insurmountable but also a comfort she would curl around her fists to keep in place, too much to bear. The world outside the safety of her bedroom, let alone further afield outside of the apartment, not something she had the strength to face.

Before she got with Aaron she spent days like this alone. Holed up in her bed, twisted in her sheets, both her solace and her prison, as she watched the sunlight that filtered in through the slit in her curtains dance across the room as the day paced. The day and night moving with more certainty than she felt capable of, time slipping past her as she barely remembered to eat or drink water, let alone look after herself.

Even when they were first dating she tried to hide these moments from him, tried to make sure he didn’t see what she considered the worst of herself. Half-constructed lies about not feeling well that never went very far because he’d show up with soup and cold medicine, only to find out she didn’t mean physically. She knows she should have expected it. Should have known he’d do nothing other than pick up the dirty clothes she’d left on the floor and do a load of laundry for her. That he’d wash the dishes she’d left on the sink and throw away the stale food on the counter.

She should have known that he’d do nothing except love her, that he’d lay next to her in silence, letting his presence provide more comfort than she ever thought it could have.

Since they’d moved in together there was no hiding it from him, and it was one of the only things that had made her hesitant to take that step with him. She was still certain sometimes that he deserved better, that, after everything he’d experienced, he deserved someone who wasn’t sometimes so paralysed by everything she’d seen she couldn’t move without every muscle in her body protesting it. She’d worried about Jack too, about his reaction to it all, but Aaron had assured her it was okay.

The Hotchner’s weren’t strangers to bad days. Every memory, even the good ones, tainted with the past that had almost torn them apart. A mark on every frame of their life, a smudgy blur left like a fingerprint on a picture.

Aaron, she had learned, was better at anticipating when she was struggling than she was. He picked up on the signs. He’d let her sleep in as long as he could when the exhaustion would start to sneak in. He’d buy food and snacks he knew she’d eat no matter what, their freezer stuffed full of food she’s sure a stranger would think was all for Jack.

When she wakes up, it’s hard to open her eyes. Her lashes almost glued together, as if her body was protesting the very thought of waking up. She sighs as she rolls onto her back, her forearm over her eyes as she tries to block out the low lighting in the room, her eyes too sore to take it in. She feels dazed, like everything is happening behind glass, the sound from down the hall, a familiar cartoon that Jack loved to watch in the morning, both muffled and too loud all at once.

She pulls the covers tighter around her, half covering her face so she can smell them, a brief flash of comfort of the scent of Aaron on the comforter.

She rolls back onto her side, her back facing the door, and she curls into a ball. Her body feels heavy, like it’s made of lead, pushing her into the bed as she tries, and fails, to convince herself to get up.

The door slowly opens and she doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move a muscle, and the bed dips behind her, a familiar warm and heavy hand landing on her waist.

“Sweetheart,” he says, his voice soft, full of understanding in a way that makes her ache and feel impossibly worse, “Do you want breakfast or do you want to stay in here?”

She clear her throat before she opens her mouth to speak, her voice rough and raspy from not being used so far that day, “I want to stay.”

It was a pattern they were both familiar with, and he doesn’t say anything else. He simply squeezes her waist and leans forward, his lips against her temple before he withdraws from the room, softly pulling the door closed behind him.

She isn’t sure how much time passes before he’s back in the room, the bed shifting again as he climbs in next to her, his back against the headboard. She knows he’ll have taken Jack to school, and that he’ll have asked Jessica to pick him up and take him home with her so they had the evening to themselves. It makes guilt burn in her gut, making it churn even though it’s empty.

“Jack was excited to go to Jess’s tonight,” he says, always reassuring her that everything was okay as if he could read her mind, and she’s sure that after all this time he might be able to, “Apparently she’s a better cook than either of us,” he adds, running his fingers through Emily’s hair, his nails scratching at her scalp, “Do you need anything?” He asks, and she shakes her head, swallowing thickly, pushing away tears she can’t fully explain, “Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” she chokes out, shaking her head again, the thought of being here alone, like she used to be, too much to bear, “I want you to stay.”

He sits with her for hours, never complaining, never forcing her to talk. He simply exists with her, taking her lead as she lies there. He eventually makes her something to eat, passing her a plate with a couple of turkey dinosaurs and a small amount of mac and cheese, their usual rule of not eating in the bedrooms ignored.

She’s not sure what time of day it is when she turns to face him, his attention immediately on her as he hears the sheets rustle around her. He lays down next to her, his head on his pillow, far enough away from her that they can look at each other properly, but close enough that she could reach out for him if she wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice still rough, “I…I’m sorry.”

He smiles softly at her, reaching out to tuck some hair behind her ear. Even though this may as well be from a script, a moment they’d repeated again and again, a discussion they had every time this happened, he isn’t irritated. His eyes shine with the same patience and love that they had the first time, and she isn’t entirely sure what she’s done to deserve him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart,” he assures her, “You’re so strong all the time, for everyone,” he says, stroking her jaw, “Even now, even though I know you don’t think you are.”

She sighs and shifts closer to him, sinking into his embrace, her face buried in his t-shirt, “Thank you for looking after me on my bad days.”

He kisses the top of her head and runs his hand up and down her back, pressing comfort into her skin, his love for her working almost by osmosis, “You don’t have to thank me. I love you, Em. All the time. Especially on your bad days.”

“Love you too,” she replies, her words muffled by his shirt as she breathes him in.

Days like this always snuck up on her, jumping out of shadows she’d hidden them in herself, but she knew he’d always be there with her. Standing by her side, ready to be what she needed, what she’d always told herself she’d never get. A type of love that she wasn’t entirely sure she deserved, but that she’d grab onto with both hands.

-x-

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thebluestbluewords · 2 years ago

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I'm Not Scared of What You're Gonna Tell Me

(~2k, Jaylos, TW for food issues/isle related food restriction. Seriously. This one is a little heavier than I usually write for tumblr.)

“When did you last eat?”

Carlos pulls himself out of the schematic he’d been mentally working on. It’s easier to focus on certain things (like the problem of where to put the extra wire in the blender he’s trying to reconstruct) when he’s got something to do with his hands, and even easier still to get absorbed in the mental work when he’s got someone there to watch his back. “What?”

Jay makes a soft noise. He’s perching on the windowsill again, but at least he’s on the outside this time. It’s not that anyone in Hell Hall is going to come into the kitchen, but it’s safer to have an easy escape route. The last time he came inside they had to jam him into the kitchen closet when Jasper unexpectedly poked his head into the kitchen, and while the closet is great for storing things like the occasional rusty canned goods and unrotten potatoes they get sent over from the mainland, it’s not a great place for a human person to hide in, and the amount of dirt they had to try and clean up wasn’t worth the small increase in comfort that Jay gets from sitting inside the window rather than on the sill outside. “You’re always in here,” he says casually. “but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat anything you make. When did you last eat?”

There’s a pile of walnuts sitting on the countertop, next to the cutting board. Carlos reaches over with his left hand and picks up a single broken nut. He pops it in his mouth. It’s small enough that it won’t be missed from the sauce. “Right now.”

“Doesn’t count. C’mon.”

Carlos gestures down at the fully loaded cutting board he’s still working with. At the bubbling pot he’s got sitting on the stove. At the unmentioned presence of his mother in the next room, drinking herself to death and waiting for her nonexistent servants to bring out dinner to her and the guests, who also don’t exist and probably wouldn’t want to stay for dinner regardless. The Isle is a bit lacking in ingredients, and tomato-walnut soup isn’t exactly the level of fine dining that Cruella’s high-society patrons would have been used to had they ever existed, much less now, when they definitely don’t and likely won’t ever exist again.

Still. Even without servants, without ingredients, and without a hope of ever getting off the Isle of the Lost again, dinner must be served. “I can’t leave,” Carlos explains patiently. “I have to be here until dinner’s done.”

Jay rolls his eyes, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “C’mon outside for one minute. She won’t notice, I promise.”

She will. She has before, even just for a moment, even when it’s just a second of fresh air because the smoke inside the house is making his lungs close up again. “She will.”

Jay shifts again, restlessly. His is a body meant to be in motion. He’s not built for sitting still and watching like this, but he keeps coming by to do it despite the fact that he’s definitely got more interesting things to do with his night. It’s weirdly sweet of him to keep coming by just to sit on the windowsill and keep Carlos company while he attempts to scrape something together to feed his mother and her minions, but it’s also wholly unnecessary, and they both know it. “What if you just hop out here for a sec? No door opening and closing means no problem with the noise, right?” Jay offers, hopefully.

“She’ll notice if the noise in here stops. I can’t leave until this is done–” Carlos gestures with his chin towards the pot bubbling on the stove, not stopping the smooth chopping motion he’s been practicing since he was probably too young to hold a knife. Red juice drips down the sides of his hands, coating them in the sticky mess that he’s going to have to wash off the cutting board and the entire counter later. Jay would probably lick it off, if Carlos would let him. “And she’s eaten and left me the dishes to clean. I can maybe steal a few minutes while I’m supposed to be washing up, but nothing before that.”

Jay whistles through his teeth, the sound low and impressed. Or maybe not. Villains are villains no matter where they are, and just because Cruella has a house to maintain doesn’t actually make her worse than any of the other adults on the isle. “Damn. Tight leash much?”

“You know it. So, you gonna stick around for…” Carlos hesitates. At least another forty minutes for the soup to be done, and then twenty minutes of coaxing his mother to put down her drink and actually eat, and then dinner and cleanup after that. “At least an hour and a half until I’m done?”

Jay nods. “So long as you promise me you’ll eat something after that.”

It’s one of the easiest promises that Carlos has ever made. “Sure thing. I’ll meet you in the treehouse once I’m done here. I’ve got food in there that my mom doesn’t even know about, and it’s not even moldy this time.”

“Sure,” Jay echoes back. There’s a weird furrow between his eyes that’s not usually there. “You have food up there?”

“Yeah, I just said that.” Carlos says, letting a hint of the irritation he’s feeling bleed into his voice. He’s tired, and hungry, and the smell of the tomato soup is making his stomach ache. “What else do I need to repeat? Hour and a half, treehouse, we’ll both be there. You can hang out down here until then, but I can’t give you anything from the kitchen tonight, I’m sorry. There’s barely enough for my mom and her henchmen as it is, and if we take anything she’s going to notice and have my hide for it.”

“I didn’t ask for anything,” Jay says, sounding irritated as well, even though he wasn’t just a moment ago. “I get it. You can’t share tonight.”

It feels like they’re talking at odds with each other, which isn’t how talking with Jay usually feels, and it’s making Carlos more pissed off than he has any right to be. “I didn’t say that,” he snaps. “I said I can’t give you anything from the kitchen. You can have whatever you want from my stash, you know that. It’s all up where it usually is. If you’re just here to take my food you can go up and eat already, you don’t have to wait for me to do it.”

“I’m not going to leave you to starve down here while I go through your stash,” Jay insists, gesturing short and sharp and irritated. “Dude. I’m not that much of a dick. You deserve it more than me.”

Carlos doesn’t deserve anything, not until the food is done and his mom and her henchmen have had their fill. He cooks and cleans and survives on the scraps they don’t want, and that’s how it’s always been, and he’s fine. He’s got his treehouse and his machines, and the barrier that keeps him from dying outright from the hunger. He’s not like Jay, who steals all his meals himself and doesn’t get pushed around at school and isn’t afraid to tell people no when he doesn’t want to do something.

“I–” Carlos huffs out a sharp breath, annoyed at the way things are going. “Whatever, man. Just do whatever you want.”

A dark, sulky look passes over Jay’s face, and then he relaxes into his usual carefree expression. “Fine,” he says, letting whatever irritation he’s been carrying fade away into nothing. “I will.”

Carlos breathes out a sigh of relief, and turns back to his pot, where the broth he’d made ages ago, back when he’d had a string of good luck with his machines and sold one of them for enough money to buy a whole chicken from the market, is bubbling away. They’d had a freezer up until about a day ago, when the stupidly old-fashioned thing broke down again in the first heat wave of the year, so now he’s using up the few things he’d had squirrelled away in there before they go bad. Or, worse. Not much makes it over to the isle before it goes bad, and the original broth had been made with some pretty questionable root vegetables, in addition to the chicken carcass that he’d saved after picking it clean.

Jay clatters his way inside the window, and Carlos turns back to him, irritation faded but not forgotten. “What’re you doing.” he asks, and it’s not a question. “You can’t be inside when my mother comes in, remember?”

“I know, chill the fuck out.” Jay says, leaning down to tuck his head through the open window. “I’m just helping you out for a sec.”

There are only so many things that Carlos can worry about at once, and the whims of another teenage boy aren’t one of them. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Jay says, grinning, and presses their lips together.

Carlos opens his mouth into the kiss on pure instinct. Sweetness blooms across his tongue, bitter and rich and complex all at once. Jay slips his tongue deeper, and the flavor spreads, somehow even sweeter than before as it melts and spreads deeper. It’s like nothing that Carlos has ever tasted before, and he’s kissed Jay a lot of times, in a lot of situations. It therefore stands to reason that this isn’t some new and previously unknown kissing ability that Jay’s developed, and is instead some rare treat that he’s chosen to share. Through kissing.

Well then.

Carlos tips his head back, going pliant and soft under the attention. The flavor is somehow hot, sweetness combining with the bitter bite of it and spreading to make his mouth feel warm and tacky with whatever the treat is. Jay nibbles at his lip, and Carlos obediently opens his mouth wider, so that Jay can slip more of his tongue inside, and–

Oh. Deposit a soft chunk of something inside his mouth, something that tastes amazing and even more delicious when it’s not diluted by two people’s worth of spit and slick kissing messiness.

Jay pulls back, one hand guiding Carlos’s chin up so that he closes his mouth properly around the treat, the other planted firmly on his hip, holding him upright. Gods, but it’s nice to have somebody around who knows exactly the ways that Carlos likes to be kissed, and also understands that the wobbly thing that always happens with his knees afterwards is fine and normal and just means he needs a second more support before being let go again.

Gods. Carlos is a man (teenager. whatever.) of science, but a treat this good deserves the invocation of some sort of higher power, because there is no way that Jay got something this good on the isle without divine intervention. It’s soft and sweet while not being overpowering the way the usual boiled sweets they sometimes get over are, and the background flavor is somehow bitter like coffee without being like coffee, and it’s so good that Carlos doesn’t want to swallow the last little sliver of it and have it be gone forever.

He does, because keeping a mouthful of sweet spit in his mouth forever would actually be disgusting, and opens his eyes to find Jay grinning at him.

“It’s good, right?”

Carlos nods. “It’s so good. How did–what is it?”

Jay laughs. “It’s called dark chocolate. My dad got a case from one of the goblins, and he’s been trying to sell it without letting anyone know he has it. I got curious, and–” he gestures between them. “You’re the best cook I know, so I figured if anyone deserves to try it with me, it’s gotta be you.”

Carlos shouldn’t be greedy. He’s a– He’s a villain. He’s allowed a brief indulgence of greed. “Do you have more?”

Jay pulls a paper-wrapped package out of his hip pocket. “Not much. I was gonna wait until later, but…”

Carlos is still so hungry that the smell of cooking chicken broth and tomatoes is making him faintly nauseous, and the soup will have to be tended to soon, and his mother is still in the room just across the hall, and could come in at any moment, but. “I will literally suck your dick right here in this kitchen if you let me have more.”

Jay laughs. “Dude. No dick sucking necessary. I brought it over here for you.”

Carlos breathes in slowly, pulling the air in through his mouth. The flavor of the chocolate is still lingering on the back of his tongue, and he wants.

“Give me an hour,” Carlos says slowly, letting the words drag over his tongue as he says them, imagining that they’re as sweet and delicious as the chocolate that Jay has waiting in the paper wrapper for them. “One hour. To finish this. And then I’ll meet you in the treehouse, and you can have whatever you want.”

“Deal,” Jay whispers against his lips. “Don’t be late.”

#my fic #descendants #descendants fic #jaylos #jay son of jafar #carlos de vil #FINALLY I have written something again and it feels so good #food issues tw #this one has been in my head for a while and I'm not like DONE done with it but I'm so happy that I finally have something #so I'm going FULL SEND and posting what I have now before I chicken out and poke at it more #yes tomato and walnut soup is a real thing #no it dosen't typically use chicken broth but there's no reason why it can't #enjoy the special fic midnight crowd #take care of yourselves and mind the warning

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poisonously-alluring-sev · 1 year ago

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Snape One Shot ~ A Violent Past, A Kind Soul P3

Severus Snape Masterlist

Summary: You are a teacher at Hogwarts who hides a dark past and only wants to make friends with your co-potions professor.

Teacher x Teacher

Time: Order of The Pheonix

Pairing: Snape x Female Y/N

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2100

Recommended Songs: Little Dark Age by MGMT & Exit Music by Radiohead (all songs can be found in my snape playlist in my Spotify account that is linked in my bio)

Previously...

"Are you ready for dinner?" Y/N slips her jacket off and walks towards the great hall where all the teachers and students chat and eat.

"Yep." She says popping the P.

He watches her take off her jacket and puts his hands into his own pockets as he walks after her in silence. His mind is busy wondering what is the reason that a person like her with her personality would be hiding a dark past. By the time they enter the Great Hall, Severus has now stopped thinking about it as much and now focuses on his thoughts on getting through the lines of students without one of them staring at him and hoping his food is palatable. What the two of them don't see though is all the students suddenly whispering to each other about them. I mean the two teachers did just show up late to dinner... together. Severus doesn't notice or care about the whispering as it's a normal thing for him. Y/N, however, does notice that the students started whispering something to each other as they walked past, and also the fact that a few of the other professors looked at them in a certain way. Severus eventually takes a bowl of soup and is completely oblivious to the talking and looks they both are getting from everyone. Y/N sits down in her spot a few spots away from Severus and she keeps her mind focused on her food and not the whispers of students and teachers. Now and then he catches glimpses of Y/N out of the corner of his eye but doesn't say anything during dinner.

It was the first class of the day and Y/N was teaching the fourth years. It was a normal lesson and such, nothing out of the ordinary, that was until she heard two of her students whispering about her and Severus. He was in his office just down the hall from the potion's classroom, going over some papers and work he needed to do for classes. He suddenly heard the voices of two students as they walked past the door. He took a moment to listen in on what they had to say since they weren't trying to be quiet about it. He heard the two voices talking about him and another professor, which immediately caught his attention. He listened closely and could somewhat make out what the students were saying. Both groups of students were whispering about how maybe Severus and Y/N liked each other and maybe they were already in a relationship. Maybe they were spending some 'alone time' together before they arrived at dinner. His eyes narrowed as he heard them saying this and he leaned towards the door while in his chair to listen more clearly. He wasn't quite sure what to do with this new information he had learned from them.

"Hah! I don't think the bat could manage to get a woman as pretty as Y/N. And I don't think she'd ever love someone like him." The one girl said to the other.

"Oh, come on! Did you see the way they walked together? They were so happy to be near each other!" The other girls said, having more faith in the rumour that the two professors were dating. Severus' mind starts to wander, and his heart picks up in pace a bit. He thinks about the previous night. When Y/N did act friendly towards him normally no one acts that way. So, he starts to remember their conversation and notices a pattern. He wonders if there is some truth to their rumours, as what they saw could very well make people think the two could be close. The day goes by, and Y/N forgets about the rumours, that was until she sees Severus in the hall walking towards the Great Hall for dinner once again. He had planned to go and have dinner by himself again tonight, but now he is thinking about the rumours again. He thinks to himself this it wouldn't be that bad if he asked her to have dinner with him that night, as she does seem pleasant enough and not like any of the other teachers at Hogwarts. He decides to take the chance and walks over to her.

"Y/N." Severus says in a neutral voice as he walks over. He approaches calmly and speaks directly to her with the intent of asking her something. She turns around with a calm and soft look on her face. When she sees Severus, she visibly looks nervous to talk to him. Severus knows now that she also heard the rumours about them.

"Oh! Hello, Professor Snape." She speaks professionally.

"I have something to ask you." He stands formally as he looks at her, waiting for her to respond to his request as he isn't sure what she will day at all.

"What is it?" She asks nicely and nervously looks around at the students walking through the hall as they stand in the middle of it.

"Would you... want to eat dinner together with me tonight." Severus does not put much emotion into the question. However, his voice sounds slightly softer and gentle, not as harsh, and flat as his usual manner of speaking. He sounds surprisingly genuine and not at all sarcastic or mocking. Y/N visibly tenses to the question. She's quiet for a moment and when she speaks, she stutters.

"wh-what? I-I..." She is nervous about the students standing around, watching. Severus takes note of her eyes and realizes why she's stuttering and nervous.

"I forget that there will be some spectators. So, this is what I was going to say. I want to ask if you'd have dinner with me in Hogsmeade tonight." Severus tries his best to talk in his normal way, but a hint of nervousness comes out in his voice. He is unsure how she is going to respond to his request for it to be just the two of them.

"I..." She's quiet for a moment and just looks at him, trying to figure out what is going on in his head. Her eyes scan his for a second. He waits patiently for her response. He is also wondering what might be going through her mind. He never wants to go out to dinner with anyone before, so this is a whole new experience for him.

"I... Sure. Why not?" Severus' face shows shock and surprise. Despite this he is very pleased with her answer and gives a subtle nod of his head and a tiny smile appears, his eyes gazing directly at her.

"Alright. So, we'll meet at The Hog's Head at seven." He is once again sounding like his normal self, but his face still shows surprise. Y/N nods gently and stays standing in the hall as Severus walks away, likely to his quarters. She notices the students standing around and watching all of this quietly.

After some time has passed Severus makes his way to The Hog's Head and takes a seat at a table in the empty pub. He looks around for a moment while he removes his jacket and sees that he's the first one here. A few minutes later Y/N comes in through the wooden door and gently closes it behind her. She removes her gloves and looks around finding Severus who sits near a window. They both are relieved a bit to know that nobody else was in the pub.

"Hello." Severus greets her as he does with everyone. She sits down opposite him, and Severus faintly smiles at her. They talked for a few minutes about how both their days were and if the lessons they planned worked out or not. Severus does take note of how she's wearing clothes that are more personal to her aesthetic versus the teachers' robes they both have.

"You look very nice." Severus blurts out without realizing what he was saying. He doesn't speak too loudly though but it's clear that Y/N heard him because their a slight blush that started growing on her face. They both sit quietly just gazing and wondering what they both were going to order after Y/N lets out a quick thank you to him. They both order some drinks and for a while they stay quiet.

"I'm not good with small talk..." Severus says, as he just can't help but make the awkward situation more awkward without trying.

"It's alright, I'm not great at it either." Her face is soft and kind-looking, giving Severus a bit of comfort. He smiles at what she says. It's odd to him to think that Y/N would be bad at small talk, considering that she always looked so confident and was usually so stern-looking all the time with the other professors.

"Do you want to talk about anything in particular?" Severus clams down a bit as he speaks to her.

"I don't have much in mind, what about you?" She holds her hands together on the table as they wait for their drinks. Her eyes gazed at him. He takes a moment to think before speaking.

"I'm not quite sure either, to be honest." He says this honestly to her in a calm tone of voice. He's just not a big talker and started wondering if maybe this was going to ruin their new friendship.

"Well... I guess I never asked how long you've been at Hogwarts. Have you always been the potions master?" Severus nods his head and is glad to answer the question and not be trapped in silence.

"I have indeed. This is my twenty-third year here to be exact. I graduated from Hogwarts and was allowed to stay on as a professor." He says keeping some pretty big details out.

"Hm, was it all it lived up to be? Or were you disappointed right out of the gate?" Her voice is full of curiosity and wonder as she wants to know him more.

"Well, there was a difference between what I thought Hogwarts was, and what it was as I learned more about it. I was just a simple boy who was eager to be here. To learn magic, to learn everything I could. However, I did not know much about the political aspects of the school. Those I learned to layer on as I grew older." He said that all as calmly as possible. He was not a fan of the ministry using a school to get people to agree with them or have drama at the school take all the attention when there were more important matters being buried.

"Yeah, the ministry likes to use Hogwarts as a political leverage, don't they?" She raises a hand to her chin before picking up her drink and taking a sip. He nods in agreement and also takes a sip of his drink. They talk some more about anything they can think of and seem to relax more. Severus does take note however that Y/N doesn't seem to be drinking much of the drink that she ordered.

"Do you like the drink that you got?" He asks with a very genuine expression on his face.

"It's alright." She says looking at it. "I thought the fruit juice would hide the taste a little better, but it's not bad." She places it down on the table. After that, they talked more about teaching which potions they were going to work on with their students and some other class-related things. They talk for a good hour eating and then moving on to just drinking and talking. They end up finding themselves at the bar and taking shots. Severus is a bit uncomfortable as some people do show up to drink, but Y/N's calm and happy attitude keeps him seated next to her. They talk about how much the two of them can drink before they get sick or drunk before Severus asks something that is a bit out of character for him.

"Yes actually... I am curious if you're alright with me asking this or not, but... do you have a boyfriend?" Severus speaks pretty casually about this. He wanted to ask earlier, and the shots are making it easier for him to get past his nervousness.

"Hah! I don't have any friends let alone a lover!" She laughs out her words while leaning back in her chair. Severus nods at what she says and understands that she wants to keep her friendships minimal, so he is not going to question her anymore on the subject. Something in him though wants him to get her to let her guard down and maybe have her think of him more than just a friend. They take about 8 shots each within less than an hour talking about how one of them is going to break first and also about the people in their lives.

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chasseurdeloup · 7 months ago

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Four's a Party || Kaden, Eithne, Angelina, and Jade

TIMING: April 27th; After Jade and Van's Banshee run in and Jade's slaying sprees, and before the Trial LOCATION: Regan's Jade's Cabin PARTIES: @screadqueens, @highoctanegem, and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Kaden goes to the cabin to return Regan's shirt, convinced that she might be hiding out there somewhere, and runs into a lot of women, none of them Regan. CONTENT WARNINGS: Head trauma (knocking someone unconscious), taser use

Something strange was happening with Kavanagh, Kaden knew that much. Sure, she had said she was leaving the country, and yes, Nora claimed she was in Ireland with her, and yeah, she wasn’t responding to messages with anything other than something about bog lemmings and peaches, but that didn’t mean anything for certain. Not really. Nora was prone to pranks and that status on its own was too strange to be one indicating that she crossed the Atlantic ocean. Not to mention she didn’t say goodbye. That deer leg was just an early birthday gift or some shit. Couldn’t be some kind of weird parting gift.

Right, the odds weren’t on his side but Kaden couldn’t leave it alone all the same. For all he knew, she was stuck in a bog hunting for lemmings. Likely dead ones, now that he thought about it. Or dealing with some kind of illness from eating a really bad peach. Not to mention he had a feeling that most people who knew her didn’t know about her strange cabin in the woods, secluded and secret. If anyone was prone to hiding out there and pretending they were in another country to keep people away, Kavanagh seemed like the type. For all he knew, she was there right that second. Plus, he owed her a shirt. She wouldn’t have left without that or the bones, right? Not that he thought he was important, he just figured she was too stubborn to leave the country before getting them.

Which is why he was trekking out through the goddamn woods to find that same strange little cabin again. It was harder to find now that he was looking for it, oddly enough, but it was nestled right where he remembered it. It looked as abandoned as ever but that didn’t mean much with Regan. Sure didn’t look different from the first time he encountered it.

Kaden walked up to the door and rapped his knuckles against the wood before leaning in to listen for any signs of life. He knew too damn well that even if she was in there, she would try and pretend she wasn’t. With his ear to the door, he heard shuffling, objects moving and clattering, footsteps. “Kavanagh, I know you’re in there,” he said, knocking again. “I have your damn shirt. I even brought my own blindfold this time.”

—

Eithne was glad to be working with Angelina on this. Even if it was thankless work, which was exactly what it was today. Scourging through the contents of an abandoned cabin was dull and disappointing. How could it be that Regan had left nothing of note behind? There were the weapons, of course there were the weapons, but she could think of no reality where a banshee would debase herself to use such crude things. They were a point of interest and confusion. (She had, however, pocketed a knife. It might come in useful.)

But there was nothing of note. A few receipts, stacked on the kitchen counter. Most of them contained boring food items, none of them bearing the proof of Bone-ios being purchasable in the area. This too, was disappointing. She kept rifling, though. Dutiful. Not every day in this town could be spent following Fate’s will and ensuring the secrecy of their home, after all. There was investigation to be done too, to wipe out these traces. It seemed Regan Kavernagh and Siobhan Dolan alike were like muddy mutts, leaving earthy tracks around everywhere. At least they didn’t need a mop to clean it. Banshees had different instruments.

And then there was a knock. Eithne rose to her full height, eyes inky black as they had been for much of the attempt at investigation. She looked at Angelina, moved towards the door but did not open it yet. Her wings were glamored away. The voice followed the knock, gruff and grating and masculine. Kavanagh. She had a man-friend who had her shirt, who knew where she lived. She swung open the door and took him in. “Come in,” she said. “We can get the shirt where you need it to be.” She’d sooner burn it than bring one of the child’s belongings home with her. The space in her bags could be better used. She stepped aside to let the stranger in, as if it was completely normal that she and Angelina were here. It was, of course. There was tidying to be done. Perhaps this was just another track of mud.

—

Angelina didn’t quite like the new world as much as she thought she would, the town was charming in its own way - plenty of death and decay around that she could appreciate - but it seemed rather odd. Still, she knew that the younger banshees needed a steady hand, and so she had gone with them to make sure that this experience was a good learning experience. After all, it was likely something like this might happen again.

So she had gone with Eithne to check on the child’s cabin carefully considering the place. It was rather banshee like even while empty of banshee things, but it wasn’t especially helpful on their mission. Still, she watched the other banshee examine it nodding along approvingly.

It was important to encourage good behaviors after all, and Eithne was shaping up to be a wonderful reliable banshee. While Angelina could help more, she figured it was a good lesson in duty and Eithne was at the age she should be getting a little more responsibility.

She was about to suggest that they head out of the cabin when they heard a man speaking. Her eyes flashed to the door standing quietly to the side considering when Eithne decided to speak. Nodding to the younger she said, “Oh dearie - It does seem to be something she would want. Come in, - whoever you are. I think we have some things to talk about.”

It wasn’t a suggestion on Angelina’s part as she tilted her head slightly her smile vaguely off putting. “Do you like bone cookies? I have some. It does look like you have bones on you.”

—

When the door swung open, Kaden was surprised, but ready to poke fun at Regan for being so eager to welcome guests for once, especially while she was pretending to be across the ocean. Only it wasn’t Kavanagh there on the other side of the door – the door that was now wide open, displaying the interior of the cabin for the world to see, as if it wasn’t the hotbed of secrets (and likely sex toys) that Kavanagh had made it out to be.

Instinctively, he took a step back, his foot now resting on the lower stair. “Oh, uh, sorry. I must have the wrong place.” His brows furrowed at the eager invitation from the two women waiting inside the sparse cabin. He couldn’t say if any of it even belonged to Kavanagh in the first place, he’d never seen the inside of it, but it didn’t alleviate the disappointment sinking into his stomach. She really had left. After all that talk and what he thought was bullshit postering and pranks from that kid, she’d left. And he didn’t even say–

Right, whatever. They weren’t friends, she’d made that clear. He was just some guy who she occasionally patched up. “Sorry, did you just move in or something? I’m looking for Reg– Dr. Kavanagh. I just wanted to drop these off,” he said, holding out the shirt and the bones it was wrapped around. The further invitation from the second woman made him hesitate once more, frozen in place and debating if he should take a step forward or back.

It was stupid of him to go out into the woods without any real weapons but, for once, he wasn’t out there to hunt. At least he had a few knives on him, never left home without them, and he caught a glimpse of what looked like an ax or two leaning against the back wall. Kaden wasn’t sure if it was comforting to know he’d have access to a weapon once he was inside or if it made the whole thing more concerning.

Both. It was both. Either way, he carefully stepped over the threshold and into the cabin. “Bone cookies?” he asked. “Uh, can’t say, never had any.” The lines of confusion only deepened on his face as she continued. “How do you– I mean, I do, yeah. I promised Kavanagh I’d give them to her if she went on the stupid moose tour with me.” It felt foolish to say aloud and he was glad he’d left the antlers tucked in his back pocket instead of holding them in the bundle he’d brought with him.

—

Angelina had a lot going for her, but she was not being particularly productive when it came to digging around Kavanagh’s cabin. It mattered little though, now that one of the young banshee’s associates had shown up. Eithne eyed the man curiously, though also with a hint of judgment. Her head shook. “How can it be the wrong place? We know Kavanagh — though we call her Regan.” Well, usually they called her a leanbh, a disgrace, an embarrassment, dirty spot. But it was probably better to sound like they had some fondness for the other, rather than pure disdain.

How strange, that a human man would bring bones to the house of a banshee who’d abandoned her post. She should not get to enjoy the fruits of fate’s labor like that! She should not get to enjoy anything. If she wanted to be surrounded by decay and death she should have remained where she was supposed to, rather than swap their home for this horrid place.

(Right, admittedly — there were some good parts about this town. Like the pit of death that was her temporary home. It reminded her of Ireland. It reminded her of their own death pit.)

“Well,” she said, “If you promised her, you must come through. Promises are very serious.” Eithne doubted that Regan Kavanagh was clever enough to trap human men into binds that had them delivering bones to her. It was quite a good ploy, though. Perhaps she would use it in the future. “I would take the cookies, they are delicious. What is it you did on this moose tour? We are always interested in …” A pause. “Recreational exploits.” She held out her hands expectantly for the shirt, assuming that she’d simply be handed it as well as the answers to her questions. She was a servant of fate, this was a human man. It was to be expected.

—

Angelina was proud of the younger banshee although perhaps she was being a little forward with the human. Still, she quietly observed eyes flickering between them. She wasn’t one to interfere with others, unless needing correction. She could see the scowl on Eithne’s face on the idea of Regan getting bones, perhaps she was right to have it. Regan after all had caused quite a mess in town, and they were here mostly to fix her mistakes. Angelina had less anger towards the young banshee than many of the others, partially perhaps because she was a ‘mothering’ figure - but it didn’t change the fact that they were here to right terrible wrongs. At least however, Eithne had gotten to stay in a death pit. It had seemed rather novel, but alas there weren't very good options for baking cookies in a death pit. Alas some dreams weren’t meant to be.

“They are good, here - have a scapula you’ll like it I’m sure,” Angelina said slightly brightly, putting the plate of cookies closer to the man trying to tempt him to drop the real bones and shirts. After all, they might be clues to what Regan had been doing. Also there was a bit of pity that he never had such a cultured treat - but only a little. Doing so she moved subtly to the side of him. “You didn’t tell us your name.” She was trying to play good cop to Eithne, moving him in to get into grabbing distance if necessary.

—

“You do?” Kaden felt foolish for saying it as soon as the words left his lips. They said her name, they were in her cabin, it wasn’t unreasonable to think they knew her. “Right. Promises.” Something about the way the first woman said the word was concerning. It tickled the back of his mind, begged for him to pull on some threads of memories from his hunter training, but Kaden shrugged it off. It didn’t matter, he was sure of it. And even if there was some supernatural bullshit happening here, he had no intention of killing anyone. Didn’t. Matter.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather give these to her myself. If– when she comes back.” He held tightly to the shirt and the bones wrapped within. There was no damn reason to assume Regan would come back, not with the current scenario right in front of him. Kaden wasn’t about to give these strangers her shirt, though. Even if they did know her name, that just meant they could read a deed. It didn’t mean they knew her. If they did, they wouldn’t have let him walk right through the front door.

The second woman offering cookies didn’t make the whole thing any less strange, that was for sure. “Uh, sure. I guess.” He reached out and took a cookie, hesitating to bring it to his lips. Kaden took a small nibble to be safe. It wasn’t bad but there was something a little off about it. The same way Kavanagh was always just a little off kilter. And the way these women were much farther off than that. He couldn’t put a finger on what it was but there was a familiarity to them that he couldn’t place. Accents that he couldn’t quite place, either. They sounded like they were from somewhere in the UK but damned if he could identify the subtleties of different accents when speaking English. It was all from that area-ish.

Then again, Regan was apparently in Ireland, right? So why had Ireland seemingly come to her instead?

Better yet, why wasn’t she in her own damn cabin while these Irish freaks were digging around in it? After he swallowed back the last bite of the cookie, Kaden clenched his jaw and started to angle himself towards the back wall where the weapons were so casually leaning. That ax looked pretty nice. A few more steps and he could reach out and grab it but he had to be subtle. “Kaden,” he said, eyes locked with the cookie-woman as he shifted to the left. “That’s my name.” They probably figured that out.

“The moose tour was just–” Putain, Kaden didn’t know how to explain the moose tour to anyone else. Well, at least it might give him time to keep shifting his position in the room. “She seemed really fixated on these screaming moose and shit like that so I suggested the tour because I knew she’d hate it and it would be funny. Which it was. For the record. And strange.” Which was par for the course in this town. He figured he’d leave out the mention of bies and the actual honest to god screaming moose for the moment. Especially while the ax was just a stone’s throw away.

—

If or when she came back, the stranger said. Humans often spoke in ifs and whens, didn’t they? Eithne found it rather amusing, especially when they said if you die, as if there was anything uncertain about their fate. She found it amusing, but she also found it offensive. Just like it was in regards to Regan Kavanagh. There was no if, nor when she returned. She would not return. She would remain at home and get her senses together and otherwise, perhaps something else awaited her.

“She won’t be coming back,” she said decisively. It was the truth. It was so very simple. “If you want to give it to her, you must give it to us. You wouldn’t want to break your promise.” She wouldn’t stop him, though. Maybe he’d start convulsing. She’d be interested to witness it, even if she kept her hand outstretched expectantly. Just as she was certain that Regan would not return, she was certain that the shirt and bones (mostly the bones) would be hers.

Eithne watched the man chew on the bone biscuit, wondering if he could appreciate the wondrous cooking of Angelina. She wasn’t much of a cook herself, but she appreciated the elder’s baking. The bones looked very anatomically correct, which not every bone-biscuit maker was capable of doing. “Enjoy it.” She didn’t add as it might be your last, but the sentiment was hanging in the air. “I am Eithne.”

She was puzzled by his answers, but the fact that the mooses were said to be screaming was some kind of pointer. “Did you learn anything of the screaming creatures?” Her arm was starting to hurt from leaving it stretched out for so long, but she had endured worse and longer pains. “Did she find it funny?” Her fingers danced, expectant. “Are you her friend?”

Angelina nodded at Eithne’s words. Regan, no matter what her fate was now, would not be returning here. “You should hand them over,” she said simply, an almost smile on her face. She had heard that humans liked it when you smiled when asking for something although she couldn’t quite remember the last time she had met a human that wasn’t about to die. Well, she supposed she still hadn’t. If Kaden was making promises to Regan - he might very well be fated to die too.

Such was death.

Still, she looked expectantly at the man to see if he liked the cookie but didn’t mention it. “I am Angelina.” She said simply following the younger words, her eyes carefully following the man to see the tension in the room. “Yes? Are they still around?” She wondered if that would make a good learning experience for the younger banshees. “Yes, are you Regan’s friend? We heard she has many friends. ”

There was a tension there that wasn’t quite on Angelina’s face as it was on Eithne’s, as if she was preparing but not quite wanting it to show.

___________

Jade was thankful for the cabin. She totally was! It was nice having a place to finally keep all her weapons without worrying about any of her nosy roomies getting a peek at them. As if they didn’t think she was a weirdo already. (And like, she couldn’t keep excusing it as a sex thing, they might end up calling the police). So trust her, she was thankful for it. Especially now when she was constantly hurt and couldn’t abuse Elias's place like that.

The cabin was way better than nothing, so she’d make the annoying trek as much as needed. Plus, Snickers. She couldn’t forget Snickers. Jade’s aching body carried a candle in her hands for the pixie this time around (it smelled like toffee). A bribe for another snippet of Regan’s first goodbye letter. The last one she got, which included a paragraph on her eyes and purge fluid, sure made an impression on her, so she was eager for more. (And then she was moving on!) (Last one, she promised!)

As she neared the cabin, she picked up on what were definitely murmurs coming from inside. Huh… That was so not Snickers. Okay… how did anybody get in when she had the key? She probably left the window open, yup. She wasn’t used to being the only person at a place and like, checking all that stuff before leaving. What went on inside sounded like a normal conversation anyway. Jade fidgeted with the ring on her finger, deciding to just, screw it: she entered like she owned the place cause, well, she did.

One good look at the small gathering was enough to pick up on the tense vibes. Why were the ladies giving her a familiar feeling? And why was that guy carrying something behind his back? He was like, exuding nerves. “Um, hi! Are you guys throwing me a party? My birthday isn't until October,” she offered a tentative smile, placing the candle on the table. “Unless it’s so not that, then… maybe it’d be nice if you could like, maybe leave my cabin? Wait, you didn’t eat my snacks did you?” She shot a look at the woman carrying cookies. Those weren’t hers…So maybe it was a party.

—

The question they asked, “are you her friend,” somehow sounded like a threat. Kaden wasn’t sure what the hell was going on here but he was pretty sure Regan wasn’t here and that he probably shouldn’t be here either. His grip tightened around the shirt and the bones it was wrapped around and pulled them closer to his side as he took a step back. “You know, I think I’ll just head out, if that’s okay. I’ll mail her the–”

He was practically hit with the door as it swung open to reveal another woman. Putain de merde, if she was also Irish he was going to start to believe that Ireland really did come to Kavanagh. Was there a fucking portal between the places or some shit?

Once she spoke (no accent to be found), Kaden couldn’t say he was relieved. Not yet. “Your cabin?” His brows furrowed as he looked over at the dark-haired woman. “What the hell is going on here? And where the fuck is Regan and what the hell happened to her?”

—

Someone else entered the cabin. Eithne whipped around, eyes boring into the stranger. She spoke as if this was her cabin, which it was not. It was Regan Kavanagh’s, just another part of her horribly dull and very annoying legacy in Wicked’s Rest. At least this Kaden-figure also seemed surprise by the other’s declaration, which was one measly point in his favor. (Not enough to save his life.)

“Regan is in Ireland,” Eithne stated simply, “And this is her cabin. We are here to collect her things for her.” Her hand made another grabby motion towards Kaden. She considered the other for a moment. There were a lot of people on their shared to do list, a fair amount of people to get through (both literally and figuratively — sometimes after blowing someone up with a scream Eithne liked to walk through the viscera). She didn’t recognize the person in front of her just yet but she was ringing a distant bell, “And you are? Besides the not-owner of this cabin?”

Angelina was fairly sure that this was getting out of control, as her head tilted at the newcomer. It seemed like Kaden didn’t know who she was either. “Yes, why do you know, Regan?” She said curiously looking at the new woman offering the plate of cookies. “And of course this isn’t a party there’s no amusements here. This town is lacking most of the things to make a proper birthday environment.”

Still, keeping an eye on both of the strangers Angelina tilted her head. To Kaden she said simply, her voice loosing her attempt to be cheery - or at least as cheery as a banshee could get,“No. Give us the things for Regan, we will take them to her. If you leave now I assume that you are hiding something, which would be rather unfortunate.”

“She’s in Ireland,” Jade answered the man, speaking simultaneously with the first woman. (Jinx!). A woman who had to be… she didn’t wanna say it, but she was already doing the math in her head. Ireland. Regan. Yup, she’d heard this story before, and she didn’t like the ending. She thought she’d have a third part with the twins, but she was actually getting her own spin-off. Jade reached for one of the cookies the other woman offered, cause like… she had manners and all, but before she could take a bite, her gaze moved tentatively around the room. Until it landed back on the first lady. “I don’t think I wanna give you my name. Or my phone. I’m not getting you an Uber. Cause you’re gonna… you’re like the murder twins, aren’t you? You’ll…” hazel eyes darted between the women, already fearing for her ears. Her head whipped to the man, who, if Jade had to guess, was the only one who didn’t get the memo about this. “Don’t give them your name,” she warned him, lifting a hand.

Mind you, Jade wasn’t scared about anything but her ears, but her belly did feel all kinds of sick thinking about Van, and how it could’ve been her opening the door to these strangers. So really, maybe it was for the best that she didn’t wanna talk to Jade anymore. (It kept her safe, and that mattered the most). That didn’t mean it wasn’t rude to have intruders again. Education in Ireland was really lacking. “You should give them what they want though… cause then they’ll leave, right?” she lifted her eyebrows at the women. Could they strike a deal, maybe? “You’ll leave us alone and go find bones or… have you seen the death pit? Must see for banshee tourists…” Oh. Crap. The B word slipped past her lips accidentally. She forgot not everybody was caught up with the plot. Her eyes flickered to the man, gauging his reaction.

—

Kaden rolled his eyes at the fucking mention of Ireland, like that answered all his questions. No one wanted to say where in Ireland or why or who the fuck they were or why they were here. Before he could try to ask again, the woman who just burst in was holding her hand up to stop him. Putain de merde. This was—

“Banshee tourists?” he repeated, brows raising as he looked back at the supposed cabin-owner. His gaze drifted back to the Irish visitors. “Putain de merde,” he grumbled, ironically wanting to scream. Of fucking course. Fae. Screaming. Weird death obsession. It was tempting to curse again but he didn’t have time to unpack all this shit or what it meant about Kavanagh and all their past interactions.

Putain. Was she the screaming moose the whole fucking time? Or was she a banshee and a were-moose?

Right, not now. He furrowed his brow at the suggestion of this newcomer to hand over the shirt and bones. What the hell made her think they were gonna strike a deal? And even if they did, fuck that. He didn’t want to hand over Regan’s shirt to these fae. He didn’t trust them. For once, he was going to lean into past prejudices. It felt appropriate all things considered.

Kaden almost tucked the shirt and bones into his back pocket, ready to get the fuck out of there, but he thought better of it. He still was unarmed. And he didn’t know if he could trust a single fucking person in this room. He had to get closer to one of those weapons without getting a literal earful. What a great fucking time to have super sensitive hearing.

“Fine,” he said as he stepped towards Eithne, holding out the shirt. “You better make sure she gets this, got it?” Kaden’s hand reached out, about to drop the belongings into her hands, but instead he let go right before she could grab it, the shirt and bones falling to the floor. He slammed his heel on her foot and it gave him an opening to jump past her and snatch one of the axes leaning up against the wall.

Kaden didn’t hesitate to line up the blade with Eithne’s neck. “Might want to take her up on that deal. This isn’t my usual weapon of choice but I’ll make it work.”

—

Eithne glowered at the newcomer. “I did not ask for you to give me your name. I am not so lowly that I take people’s names — I asked you to introduce yourself as a polite human. Did they fail to teach you manners?” Sometimes binds were useful, certainly, but she was an agent of Fate. A servant. She did not entertain herself by taking people’s names for her own amusement. Amusement was not one of her preoccupations. Her preoccupation right now was cleaning up a mess made by a child, who has grown to be friendly with humans who acted as childish as she did.

But the new woman said two things that interested Eithne. First there was, “The death pit, yes. I am familiar. I have made it my temporary home. Your town lacks in proper hotels.” Secondly there was the fact that she’d called them banshees, which got a reaction out of the man called Kaden. So she knew what they were, but he did not — though he seemed familiar with the concept, which made him just as much of an issue as the woman.

At least it seemed to stir something in the man, as he finally reached out with the things. It was probably because he respected her for what she was — an agent and servant of Fate, above him in the food chain and general hierarchy of the world. It was not the first time her general arrogance over her position in the world got in her way. As the shirt (and bones, most importantly) crashed on the floor and his foot connected with her toes she let out a roar.

Before she could return the favor in some kind of way her neck was met with a blade. An axe, by the looks of it. Eithne breathed against it, not minding that with the expansion of her neck her skin grazed the sharp blade. “I have already seen the pit. I have aligned some of the bodies. I have arranged its bones. I have seen it. You are a fool if you think you can kill me. I’ll scream before you do.”

—

Jade got hit by two giant realizations at the same time. One, had they been together (hypothetically, as together as two people who exchanged meaningful jewelry could be), she should’ve taken Regan on a date to the death pit. How come she never thought of that before? That totally would’ve saved them months and months of will-they-won’t-they! Alas… It didn’t matter, she couldn’t beat herself up for it. That ship had sailed. Er… the plane had flown? Cause Regan was gone and she’d totally find way nicer pits in Ireland, and she was definitely having so much fun in them and Jade had missed a great chance, and yup. Fine. Mhmm.

Right… Her second realization, far more relevant to the plot, please excuse her, she was gay and depressed: This guy knew how to wield a weapon. His movements were swift and smooth, and like… like someone might have trained him for it. So, like a lumberjack, maybe. Totes. But no matter how impressed she was by him, she really wished he hadn’t put an axe against that lady’s neck. They didn’t have Van with them to melt the floor when the banshees decided to scream the cabin down. Cause they would try. That was all they did. She had already lost Regan’s knife, plus Regan herself, she couldn’t lose the cabin. And Van would probably never wanna bail her out of this type of situation anyway, so like… rubbing salt in the wound. It would’ve been better for everybody involved if they could just… chill out. Count to ten, then maybe discuss a way to make everybody inside the cabin happy.

And nope, hold on, wait. Jade looked at the women who had literally barged into her place. Why was she exercising caution? Screw that. She was tired of banshees walking into places demanding things, that little trick only worked for one banshee and one banshee only. This was her place. She reached for the loyal crossbow she carried on her back, pointing its nose toward the banshee holding the plate of cookies. And when tension kept everyone from acting, she stepped forward, inching toward the table. There was a holster taped underneath, a taser gun inside. She’d brought that for Van, technically… that first night they stayed here, after it became clear she wasn’t comfortable with a gun or a knife. But now it was looking super useful in Jade’s eyes. How did you stop a banshee from screaming? (A non-lethal way, please) A blade wasn’t gonna do it, a gun could’ve done but she was not gonna put a bullet in a living being. So, taser. If only she could grab it, if she could tell the guy…“I would love it if you guys could leave. Step out of my cabin, pretty please. I want nothing to do with Regan. I’m just… a homeowner.” She could’ve left it at that, but she had to make a point. She fired a bolt toward the woman, aiming just high enough for it to graze her shoulder. “That’s a warning. Next one goes into your throat,” she lied, but the good thing about Jade, those came out more convincing than the truth.

—

If there was any doubt about who these weapons belonged to before, that was wiped away the second the “homeowner” in question shot her crossbow. Kaden had to assume she was a warden given how quickly she knew the women were banshees and how prepared she was. It would make sense. Not that this fucking town was one for making sense.

Kaden noticed her gravitating toward the table and tried to see if there was anything there that might be useful. Nothing that he could see at first glance. Best not to let his eyes linger unless he gave away whatever the hell plan the other hunter (presumed) had.

“Putain de merde. What is with you all and bones?” Before the banshee beneath the blade of his axe could answer, Kaden lifted it and slammed the hilt down on her head. He hoped it would knock her out and spare them the screaming, maybe even give the maybe-warden a chance to grab whatever it was by the table.

—

The new woman was quick. It was impressive, for a human, to shoot into action so quickly, and Eithne would have given her the credit, had there not been an axe at her neck. It was a bit of an insult, really — axes to necks should be reserved for the undead, should they not? She did not know an awful lot about killing them, but she knew that beheading them was a prime and well-loved method. She refused to go by axe by head. One day, Eithne hoped to die slowly and respectfully, letting herself enjoy the process created by Fate with her full attention. Not like this.

Things went fast, as they were wont to do in situations like these. The fast woman shot a bolt through Angelina’s shoulder, the man lifted the axe and Eithne wielded her own weapon. The superior one, mind you — the one that had been granted to her through her father’s death, the hard work that had followed and her subsequent and continued dedication to Fate.

She opened her mouth and screamed, not loud enough to kill the man in front of her — just loud enough to make him stop in his tracks and subdue him so she could put more care in his inevitable death. But before the scream could fully leave her lungs and finish, the hilt of the axe hit her against the head. Eithne’s world went black as she fell, her scream continuing to ring in her ears.

—

It was gonna take some quick feet and precise hands to reach under the table, draw the taser gun, shoot either of the intruders and somehow keep their hearing intact. Cause any fumbling would allow the banshees to give them an earful, which, since her encounter with the murder twins, Jade wasn’t too big of a fan. Luckily, she had always received compliments on how skillful her fingers were. And luckily (?), she had nothing but reckless confidence. So of course, she was gonna go for it. What was the worst that could happen? (Rhetorical, thank you).

At least the foreign lumberjack (where was that accent from?) had stepped in and had the other banshee one under control, for a moment. Cause she screamed and he reacted (or he attacked and she reacted? Not now, conscience!), and it was like one second of distraction, but one second enough for Jade to reach the edge of the table and feel the holster underneath. The banshee’s scream was cut short before they were reduced to a million little pieces (whew!), then the thud of her unconscious body hitting the floor earned her a few more extra seconds. The other banshee grappled with her buddy being knocked out by the lumberjack, but she would soon howl about it, no doubt, so Jade was speedy, hoping to get ahead of her.

She drew the gun, aimed the little laser dot at her body, and fired the probes that struck the target. Electricity crackled and Jade watched it do its thing. Then came the thud of a second body hitting the ground, incapacitated. But also worth noting, the plate had cracked, cookies spilling on the floor. Yikes. (That did make her a little sad). At least neither of the banshees could scream at them anymore? She left the gun and her crossbow on the table, and let out a breath. (Ouch, her ribs). Her gaze found the tall lumberjack. “I’d like them out of my place,” she repeated. She didn’t care how exactly. But if the guy had been here before her, then he had to be followed right? And actually, why was this guy at her place too? Her eyes dipped to the shirt. “Is that for Regan? She really isn’t here, trust.” And it was so chill. So fine. So not life-altering. “I’m her… associate. I can… could hold it for her if she…um, comes back.” She thought of that one message, Regan made it sound like something had gone wrong. Like they were gonna attempt an escape. So maybe…

—

The same pain that pierced his ears the day that Kaden and Regan had faced off that bies with the screaming moose shot through them now. It was all he could do not to throw his hands up to his ears and scream himself, but he managed to clench his jaw and whacked the hilt of the axe against the fae’s head one more time. Just for good measure.

Before he could check to see if the warden needed help with the other banshee, there was a gun in her hand and electricity surging through the fae in question. “Taser?” he said, nonchalantly now that both of the bodies on the floor were silent. “Weird place to keep it but nice job.” Kaden leaned the axe back against the wall where he’d found it and then, finally, rubbed his ears. Putain, he could still hear her but it sounded like he was listening through cotton swaps that had been shoved into his ears.

He leaned down to grab the shirt and bones he’d brought with him, carefully wrapping it all up like a small package again. “Okay,” he said, looking up at her with furrowed brows before he could even finish gathering his (well, Regan’s) belongings. Was she asking him to take care of the bodies? Or what?

Actually, he had a whole lot more questions for this apparent “homeowner,” now that he thought about it. “It’s hers, yeah.” Once again, Kaden found himself holding onto the shirt a little tighter as he stood back up. “I’d rather get it to her myself.” Somehow. He didn’t know how. Not like the bratty bugbear was going to help him out. Wynne, maybe? That wasn’t the point. “If you don’t mind. I know it’s important to her.”

The weapons, the fact that she knew these were banshees before Kaden had a clue they were even fae, it still led him to believe she might be a warden. And it sure was interesting for a warden to move into Kavanagh’s cabin, confident that she wouldn’t ever return. “How do you know here, anyway? And how’d you end up, uh, here? You said it was your cabin. Did she give it to you?” Maybe he shouldn’t be quite so suspicious of this woman. It was possible (if not likely) that Regan cared a lot more about her than she did about him. If nothing else, it seemed like Kavanagh had informed her that she’d left, which was more than she’d said to him. This was assuming she wasn’t a warden who killed the medical examiner, of course.

—

“I am a little unconventional,” Jade dismissed with a small hand wave. She didn’t think this guy wanted the tea on Van and the banshee twins anyway, which is why the taser even existed in the first place. And again, it felt like Van was keeping her safe, in a roundabout way. (The sting was harder to ignore now that there was no imminent threat) (But, forget about her).

Jade only noticed the bones as he bent down to grab the shirt and… wow, okay. Something rubbed her the wrong way. This guy really must’ve known Regan well. He knew she liked bones and he knew where her super secret cabin was? And on top of that, he had one of her shirts? Hello? Why was that? Who was he? Her eyes shot daggers at him, a sudden urge to get his kneecap burning through her. “Uh… huh,” plus he was tall, and had nice hair. Nope, stop it. What was the point of getting jealous when Regan wasn’t even here anymore? “Right. Um. I get it, wanting to keep something of hers.” She closed her hand, wishing she could feel the fabric of the shirt. (Did it smell like her, too?) Instead, she felt the ring on her finger press against her palm.

He seemed to be similarly curious about her, at least. Which, all kinds of fair. Cause she had all these weapons and she knew about banshees and… yup. Her throat felt a little tingly as she tried to find the right words to answer the lumberjack’s question. How did she even begin to describe what she and Regan had been to each other? “She gave the cabin to me, before she left. We… Ulcers, you know? And then… one thing led to another and we found bog lemmings… and oh, the hotel,” she let out an anguished sigh. He was following, right? She couldn’t make it any clearer. It wasn’t easy talking about all of this now that she had that message in her inbox. What if someone had gotten to Regan? She blinked her allergies away, and sniffled softly. “I’d like to get these ladies out of my place, please? They’re not the first banshees to come after me. I think… they might know we… collaborated”.

—

The creases between Kaden’s nose and brow deepened as he watched the woman, warily. She looked angry. Was she angry at him? Why? And why would she think he wanted to keep something of Reg– oh. “Uh, no it’s not like that,” he added, holding his hand up like a surrender. “I mean, yeah, I took my pants off the first time I met her but that was because of the wound. She had to treat it. I mean she didn’t have to but she insisted because, I mean you met her, you know how that–” Right, he was rambling and definitely making things more awkward and fucking weird. “I have a boyfriend.” Great. Definitely didn’t make things any more awkward by spitting that out.

Kaden cleared his throat, hoping it would also clear the air a little. “I just know the shirt is important to her. And I told her I’d give it back to her. So I’d feel better if I could make sure I got it to her myself. Things usually go sideways when you get a middle man involved. No offense.” Putain, he really should just hand it over to the maybe-warden in question. There was no reason for him to hold onto it. What did it matter if he was the one to return it to Kavanagh or not? She probably didn’t care one way or another so why the hell did he? Stupid. There was no good reason to think that stitching him up a few times meant they had any kind of bond. If that were the case, there were plenty of people out there he should be checking in on a lot more frequently.

One of Kaden’s brows rose higher and higher the longer little miss homeowner spoke. Ulcers, lemmings, hotel? Right, no clue what those had to do with each other but it was weird enough in succession that it almost made sense for Kavanagh. Hotel made at least a little sense. They had gone to a hotel and then Regan gave her the cabin. “Right. Sure. I… ” He couldn’t lie, he didn’t understand. “Sure.” He had no idea what the fuck she was talking about but he got the sense that Kavanagh gave a shit about her and vice versa if she knew where this place even was. Hell, he’d just stumbled upon it by accident and she’d been invited there. Not to mention the tears welling up in her eyes. “I take it you were close.” Or at least whatever that meant in Regan’s world given her “no friends” bullshit. There was no way they were dating. Couldn’t be. How the hell could you date if you only had acquaintances? Must have been one hell of a crush this woman had. Kaden almost felt sorry for her.

He should just hand her the fucking shirt. But he couldn’t force his hand to reach out in front of him to hand it over. Instead, he tucked it into his back pocket along with the moose antlers he’d nearly forgotten he had with him, too. Merde. Hopefully he wasn’t going to have to try and explain those again. Once was bad enough. It was only funny when he got to tease Kavanagh about the whole ordeal, not when other people tried to poke fun at his expense. Nora and her friend did more than enough of that.

“Yeah, alright. I’ve got you.” Kaden gave a quick stretch and then hooked his arms under the armpits of the first banshee, dragging her out of the cabin. Wasn’t like this was his first time moving bodies. “Wait, there are more of them? Putain de merde. I thought banshees were supposed to be incredibly rare. And now they’re fucking coming out of the goddamn woodwork. Going to get reports and stupid calls about more fucking screaming moose, too, I’m sure.” He continued to grumble to himself as he pulled the body down the stairs as gently as he could manage. Kaden paused at the last step, banshee still at an incline. “Uh, where are we putting them?” Probably a good thing to figure out. “I’ve got a truck way back there.” She had to know how long a fucking walk it was. “We could drag them to the middle of the woods or maybe load them up, drive them and dump them somewhere on the other side of town.” Somewhere that was nowhere near either his cabin or the farmhouse, ideally.

—

“That’s gay,” Jade pointed out with a frown, one she immediately fixed when she finished processing. Cause, the lumberjack was taken. So he couldn’t steal Regan (already all the way in Ireland, mind you) from her. “Okay,” she breathed out a laugh, a twinkle of amusement finally reaching her eyes. Whew! What a relief. “Good on ya, I hope he’s cute,” she offered her hand for a fist bump, but ended up bumping into his shoulder when the gesture wasn’t returned.

She eyed the shirt once more, and this time Jade stayed totally chill despite the fact that it had been near a half-naked man at one point. She agreed with his comment though. Fine. The middle man was definitely tricky. But also? One of the funniest parts of playing the telephone game, actually. Chaotic neutral, in a way. Her eyes prickled again when he pointed out the obvious. She and Regan were close. (Keyword, were). Her bottom lip quivered. It was fine though, she could get through this without making a scene. “Mhm, yup. So close. We were like Jack and Rose. The lemmings, not... They died banging, you know? That’s what Regan told me,” and apparently both of them looked ecstatic.

Maybe this rugged lumberjack was uncomfortable with big feelings on display, or maybe he realized having a convo with two unconscious bodies was kinda awkward. (Not to her, though. She still remembered kissing Regan while Mark Whatshisname chilled on the ground). But he was finally ready to do something about it, and she was so excited to get her cabin back. Weird. “Yup. I got stabbed by one of them. They were like, Gen-Z twins, so be careful. I’m pretty sure they’re in some kinda Men in Black business in town,” and they were definitely coming from Ireland. But why? When the best of Wicked’s Rest was already gone. She joined the man’s efforts, grabbing the other unconscious banshee. Her poor plate of cookies. Not even the five-second rule would save them. And she was definitely not offering them to Snickers.

The idea of dumping them somewhere while unconscious filled her belly with dread (for no reason at all, not like… she’d been there, done that a couple days ago). But at least they wouldn’t be tied and… okay, fine. “I was gonna ask you to help me get them to the road, and I’d get them an Uber to the death pit. But I like yours way better, ” she lied with a tight smile. “Alright,” she also pretended every freaking muscle didn’t scream with the effort. And as she watched both of them do this thing with a little more ease than your average person, Jade concluded the foreign lumberjack might have a little of that special sauce, too. Which kinda filled her with excitement, but she wasn’t in the mood to sell him on the group chat yet. Peace and a warm shower were at the top of her priorities. (Plus a snack) But she’d track him eventually. They were bound to cross paths anyway, this town was freaking small. Maybe then, they could chat not only about his ability with the axe, but what Regan really meant for the other.

#writing #wickedswriting #para #c: jade #highoctanegem #screadqueens #four's a party

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