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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 1 month

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Don’t Go Blindly Into The Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Meanwhile there is a darkness growing in Ketterdam, and it seems a killer may be stalking the streets of West Stave. An unknown evil is closing its jaws over the city, and it’s starting to feel like nowhere is safe.

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus @i-need-help-this-is-my-obsession @devoted-people-hater

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

Content warnings for this chapter: ptsd, violence, dehumanisation, kidnapping references, imprisonment references, trafficking references, implies sa references, blood and wounds, drowning/fear of drowning, death references, murder references, threats, spiders (a nightmare that involves a venomous one)

AO3 links

Chapter 53 - Nina

It was almost dawn by the time Nina reached the White Rose, and all she really wanted was a long bath to scrub this entire night off her. It seemed she was going to have to settle for sleeping first, however, and bathing later because the only bathroom in the place with an actual tub was occupied when she returned. There were two indoor bathrooms at the White Rose; the other had a shower that Nina wasn’t a fan of anyway, far less so because the building had no running water. She wouldn’t complain about sleeping, though, not a chance of that; as soon as she’d made contact with her settee she was drifting straight into slumber - and straight into unwelcome dreams.

She was back on the ship, all those endless, terrible nights travelling from the Wandering Isle to Fjerda. Nina wasn’t even supposed to be there, not really, she was too young for such missions. But the Ravkan Second Army had been almost decimated by the Civil War; they needed soldiers, and, oh, how Nina had begged to be one of them. She’d travelled to the Wandering Isle with a small group, the only one she knew beyond in passing being Zoya Nazyelensky, in hopes of rescuing and recruiting more Grisha to join their cause. Nina had been alone when she stumbled headfirst into that Drüskelle camp, and out of any identifying uniform. She did not scream, she pleaded with them in Kaelish instead of Ravkan, not once did she cry out for help. She was terrified, yes, but she was more scared still to expose her team and their mission, of putting Zoya and all the rest of them in danger. She was bound captive on a boat headed to Fjerda, to the impenetrable fortress of the Ice Court where she knew she would be put on trial and then quickly afterwards put to death. Simply for existing. The boat had been horrendous, cages full of terrified men and women, beaten and bloodied beyond recognition, going days at a time without food or water, no way of washing and nowhere to relieve themselves, hands bound so tightly that Nina was left with horrible wounds on her wrists that she’d had to use her Grisha power to repair, and yet there was a strange, small part of her across the entire journey that had not wanted it to end. Because she knew that whatever lay on the other side of these weeks was going to be infinitely worse.

They’d almost reached Fjerda when the storm hit, and Matthias accidentally saved Nina’s life.

The dreamworld’s version of the ship was warped and changed before her eyes, but she knew instinctively to be in the same place. She was on the floor, her hands bound, the tall bars of an iron cage extending high above her head - impossibly high; elongated by the dream. There were no other captives here, so different from the cramped reality, but Nina was not alone. She was staring at a pair of boots, and before she’d even lifted her head she knew that it was Matthias who stood over her. He looked the same. He looked impossibly changed.

“Nina Zenik,” his voice was cold.

What did he intend to do? Apologise, demand apologies from her? Offer forgiveness, or pass sentence and carry it out? Did he intend to be her judge, jury, and executioner? She would never know. He moved as though to kneel before her and the scene melted in time with his step, changed its course to something new; the bars stood between them now, Nina was on her feet and even though he was left invisible by shadows she knew that Matthias was somewhere ahead of her. Was he the prisoner now, or her again? It was impossible to tell; each of them were surrounded by nothing but grey walls of stone, the bars stark and cold before their faces.

She tried to tentatively call his name, but when she parted her lips a spider, almost as big as her own nose, crawled off her tongue and began to climb its way out of her mouth and up her face. Nina screamed, trying to brush the thing away as its thin, spindly legs found purchase in her flesh, and it was thrown by her hand straight through the bars in front of her. Breaths careened through her chest like runaway horses unmatched too soon from their carts as she stumbled backwards and tried to rebalance her footing.

A hand stretched from the darkness and landed heavily on one of the bars, gripping it so tightly the metal might have warped beneath the fingers, and after a moment longer Matthias pulled himself forwards and into view. Nina gasped, rushing forward to him; their hands met between the iron, their fingers intertwined, their foreheads could almost touch.

“Matthias…” she whispered, too many emotions to list imbued upon her tongue.

“Nina,” he murmured, his thumb brushing across the skin of her hand almost rhythmically, soft and comforting, “Röedfetler,”

Little red bird.

“I’m here,” she nodded, pressing her thumb into his palm, “We’re… I’m here,”

She closed her eyes, tears that she both could and could not explain pouring onto her cheeks, an impossible weight collapsing into air inside her chest as though it had never existed in the first place. But then his grip was tightening, panic seized Nina as her eyes flew open and she saw the spider upon the bare skin of Matthias’ neck. It had bitten him; his flesh swelled in an instant, red and pulsating with hot anger. His grip had moved to her wrists now, tighter than she could stand, pinning her in place. She could imagine the bones snapping beneath his fingers with relative ease.

“Matthias-”

The redness of the bite was spreading; his entire form was overcome by the furious fire.

“What have you done?” he snarled, speaking Fjerdan, “What did you do to me?”

The swelling in his neck flared and his hold on her dropped away as he greyed into the hazy edges of the dream, keeling over and vanishing into nothingness. She screamed his name, scrabbled against the ground before the bars, tried to reach through them to find where surely he must be lying in the darkness, he had to be, he had to be, he had to be. Water began to rise from the floor, the room rocked and swayed. It was getting higher by the second, thrown this way and that by the rocking of what had transformed around her from a prison cell to the lower decks of a boat, threatening to rise above Nina’s neck. But she could not stop, could not move, could not stand; she continued to reach madly through the emptiness in front of her, where the bars had been was now empty but for the flood but still she could not find him. The pressure grew against her chest. The boat jolted; Nina was thrown across the space to careen into a wall and now the water was almost at her nose - when had it gotten so high. As she slipped beneath the surface, thrashing madly to try to move, try to swim, try to find a place that she could breathe, bonds began to weave themselves slowly around her wrists. No, no, no. Nina kicked her feet as best she could but now there was something tightening around her ankles as well. The boat jolted once more, the water sloshed, and Nina felt any distant dream of air, of Matthias, of breathing, to be a very childish fantasy.

Matthias was gone. And Nina was drowning.

Shipwreck.

She was thrown from the dream with a harsh crack, almost falling off her settee, a pounding in her head so loud it felt the walls were shaking. Wait, no… no, there was something banging here, in the world as well as inside Nina’s mind. She steadied herself, trying to shake her brain back into attention, and realised that someone was knocking on the door.

“Nina?”

“I- yeah, come in!”

The door creaked slightly as Siobhan pushed it open, a long dressing gown draped over her and tied tightly at her waist, her red hair wet and straggling over one shoulder. She looked at Nina for a moment, a small furrow forming between her brows.

“Are you okay?”

Nina tried to smile, pulling the scattered pieces of herself back into a shivering, temperamental whole that was sure to shatter in the next firm breeze that shook it as she stood to properly greet Siobhan.

“I’m fine,” she managed, though by the look on the other girl’s face not very convincingly, “Thank you,”

Siobhan nodded slowly, a little uncertain, a hand drifting up towards the damp locks of her hair. There was a small towel thrown over shoulder to keep the wet off her white, flighty gown and she began to fidget distractedly with its embroidered edge. Both the towel and the dressing gown were lightly imbued with a swirling pattern of roses along their edges.

“Right,” she nodded, clearly not entirely believing her, “Well, I just came to let you know I was finished in the bathroom. You can go straight in, Petra brought in plenty of water; she said she’d start heating some more,”

Nina managed to smile and murmur her thanks, turning to the little wardrobe to find her own towels. She was only slightly surprised when she turned to see that Siobhan was still standing there; she was expecting her to be there in that she hadn’t heard he leave, but she wasn’t sure what she was waiting for.

“Did you-?” she broke off, then tired again with: “I mean… that girl that they’re looking for, the one who broke her contract with the Willow Switch…”

Nina felt herself tense involuntarily, and hoped it hadn’t been noticeable.

“It was her, wasn’t it, that you asked me about?”

“Asked you about?” Nina frowned.

“A little before the arrest warrant came out,” Siobhan had now moved on to fidgeting with her sleeve, her neatly manicured fingers almost digging straight through the weave of the fabric, “you asked me if I knew of a girl at the Willow Switch and I’ve been thinking about it and I’m sure… I’m sure you said Jeluna Kir-Mai,”

Nina opened her mouth, closed it again. Shit. What was she supposed to say now?

“You did, didn’t you?” Siobhan’s eyes scanned over her, studying her intently for every non-verbal response Nina was trying so hard to restrain, “I didn’t misremember? It was her?”

“Siobhan-”

Nina tried to step forwards and Siobhan took a frightened pace away from her.

“Is she like the others?” she whispered, backing gradually towards the half-open door, “Like the Leopard? Amethyst?”

“No - well, no Siobhan, look - I can explain-”

“Oh Saints,” she’d found the door handle behind her, was trying to slowly manoeuvre her way into the hallway without taking her eyes off Nina, “Oh, Saints, Nina, it’s not true? Please say it’s not true. You didn’t… you didn’t…”

“No, Siobhan, I swear I didn’t do anything, I-”

“You knew,” she shook her head, still trying to find her way out of Nina’s room without turning, “You knew that she would… She didn’t run, did she? Did you tell them something? She… They… What did you do?”

Nina stepped forwards, arm raised in hopes of closing the door before Siobhan’s voice got any louder, and the girl released a strained yelp as she stumbled away from her.

“Siobhan - I’m sorry - please, just listen-”

She turned and ran.

In retrospect, chasing Siobhan through the White Rose into her own room and slamming the door shut behind her was probably not the best call, but in the moment Nina couldn’t think of anything else to do short of knocking her unconscious.

Siobhan backed away into the farthest corner of the room, bumping up against her vanity, staring at Nina like a lost rabbit facing down the barrel of a hunter’s gun. She looked like she was very much regretting asking the question.

“Nina, please-”

“You tell no-one this,” she hissed, which again in retrospect may not have been the most sensible thing to say, “You hear me? Not a single word,”

Siobhan nodded, over and over, so quickly it looked like her head was going to drop right off her shoulders. Nina watched her, walking slowly farther into the room as she ran her hand along the wall that ran alongside the corridor. She was looking for the peepholes. She knew there must be at least one; she needed to stopper it.

“Someone took her, okay? I had nothing to do with her first going missing, and I had nothing to do with Tara or Amethyst, alright? I promise you that. I don't know who it was, I don’t know what they did, but someone kidnapped Jeluna before that arrest warrant went out and they messed with her head. She doesn’t even remember anything. I found her in the Barrel a few days before the warrant went out, and I tried to keep her safe. I swear to you, I am just trying to keep her safe,”

“How… how did you know that she was gone? Before the warrant?”

Nina took a very slow breath. At least she was talking to her, at least she wasn’t running to find Feliks. She stood up a little straighter, no longer half collapsed against her little vanity, but her eyes were still wary.

“You know I work for Brekker?”

Siobhan nodded.

“After what happened to Tara - the Leopard - and Amethyst, I was worried. I asked him to keep tabs on things, and he told me that something was going on at the Willow Switch so I went to try and find out what was going on,” a slight stretch of the truth, but just barely, and a believable one, “One of the girls there, Kheja, told me that Jeluna was in danger,”

Nina had since been back to the Willow Switch twice, very briefly, with a note up her sleeve in search of Kheja, but she was yet to find her. Yet to pass on the very simple message, written on a curled up scrap of paper in mostly neat Shu characters:

“I found her”

She needed Kheja to know that Jeluna was alive, that she was about as safe as Nina could get her, but after two unsuccessful visits had begun to feel concern sparking inside her for Kheja as well. She was just busy. She must have been. She’ll be back in the foyer eventually.

But right now she had a more immediate problem at hand. Siobhan still looked nervous, and not entirely convinced. Would she go to Feliks, if she suspected Nina was involved with or maybe working for whoever orchestrated these kidnappings? Would she try to send word to the stadwatch? And in that case, had Nina royally fucked up by bringing Kaz and the Dregs into things?

“And Dirtyhands just did you a favour?” she asked, incredulous, “Am I supposed to believe he’s keeping her safe somewhere as well?”

“I paid him,”

There was a brief pause.

“I don’t not believe you…” Siobhan managed, her voice trailing and rising and drifting away like it was on a hike through a rocky mountain range, “You know you shouldn’t have gone to him, though? You shouldn’t get people like him messed up with girls like her. He won’t keep her unless he finds a use for her,”

Nina had nothing to say in response. Had those not been her exact concerns? Was that not the very reason she’d offered to add Jeluna’s debt onto her own? Kaz still hadn’t spoken to her about arranging that.

“Do you think it was the same person? Who took Tara and Amethyst as well?”

“Yes,”

There were no two ways about that. Siobhan deserved the truth, anyway, or at least the closest approximation of it that Nina was able to give.

“Is that why they’ve stopped? Because she ran?”

Nina hesitated.

“I don’t know if they’ve stopped completely,” she said slowly, “and I don’t know how Jeluna got away. But it’s possible that they’re waiting until they hear about Jeluna, to find out if she’s told anyone what happened to her. I don’t… I don’t think that the threat’s over,”

Siobhan snorted a laugh, taking Nina by surprise, and flopped down onto her mattress as she said:

“The threat’s never over, Nina. It just takes different forms,”

A moment passed as Nina tried to figure out what to say. Siobhan kicked off her slippers and pulled her feet up onto the bed, tucking them beneath her and picking up a throw pillow to clutch over her lap.

“You’re not lying to me are you?”

Nina shook her head.

“You swear it?”

“On my life. I have only tried to keep Jeluna safe,”

“Has… has Brekker told you about anything going on anywhere else?”

Nina swallowed. She stepped forwards and gestured questioningly towards the space next to Siobhan on the side of the mattress, who gave a casual wave of permission for Nina to sit down.

The room looked much like Nina’s, a square space with the same white walls, the same eaves, the same flowers on the table, but where the table was at the centre in Nina’s room Siobhan’s was pushed towards the near wall, displaying a tea tray surely to gaudy to actually be useable and only one slender white stool instead of proper chairs. At the centre of the room was the bed, its headboard pressed against the back wall, its white sheets arranged pristinely, usually with a rose-shaped throw cushion lying neatly in between the pillows but that was now sitting on Siobhan’s lap. The smell of the rose perfume was stronger here than in Nina’s room, and she noted the flowers studding the vanity and wardrobe. She also knew that, when in costume, Siobhan often wore the white roses in her hair.

“There was a girl who went missing before Tara did,” she said, trying to keep her voice gentle, “who he told me about when I brought this up to him. I don’t know if it’s connected, but it might be. She vanished from one of the smaller houses, farther South, and was found dead not long after,”

Siobhan nodded very slowly, not looking up to meet Nina’s eye.

“I haven’t heard of anyone going missing since Jeluna,” she said, “When I asked you about her I only suspected something had happened, and was wondering if you might recognise her name. I was also having a shit day and I didn’t put a lot of thought into it, but-”

“Van Eck,” said Siobhan, as though she’d found sudden understanding.

Nina frowned. That was exactly it. She’d had an awful time in court and then had Jesper walk her to and from the Geldstraat in wonderful timing for her to see just how much of a skiv Jan Van Eck was first hand.

“I - sorry?”

“It was when you went to see Councilman Van Eck,” she said, “It put you in an awful mood; you had a go at Feliks,”

Nina nodded.

“You know that put him in an awful mood?” Siobhan watched her for a moment, like she was trying to read something written in between Nina’s eyes in a tiny script, before she said, “I heard Van Eck asked you to go back,”

“Yeah, tonight…” Nina frowned, “I didn’t go,”

Siobhan started to say something that might have been “good” but then caught herself, and instead:

“There’s rumours, you know? About the Councilmen,”

“Van Eck?”

Siobhan nodded.

“And a few others; I heard the name Hoede, from someone who works for him,”

“What…?” Nina swallowed, “What are the rumours?”

“Well, maybe they’re just nonsense but…” Siobhan shrugged, “they’re saying there’s this drug,”

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freedfromthegalactichivemind · 2 years

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More than Meets the Eye

She-Ra fanfic Comedy Rated PG (mild rude humor and “bad” words). Adora, Bow, Entrapta, Hordak (and mentions of other characters) Inspired by conversation on Sweary She-Ra. 4th wall-breaking by Entrapta, but not a Sweary-specific fic. Summary: An alternate universe from the end of the Beast island arc. Hordak joins the Rebellion against Horde Prime and shows everyone a hidden talent of his. For @lemaistrechat (No, you don’t have to send me cookies. My Mom’s Christmas cookies got squished in the mail. Yours will, too). _____________________ More Than Meets the Eye Adora had no shortage of surprises in her life for the last several months. First, as the war had progressed, Glimmer had become more and more ruthless. She was taking dark turns that made Adora wonder if she was even the friend she used to know anymore. Shadow Weaver was living in Bright Moon. Flutterina had turned out to be an enemy-spy – and a shapeshifter whose true form looked nothing like Flutterina. To top it all off, Horde Force Captain Scorpia had defected and had come to the Princess Alliance for aid, claiming that Entrapta had been sent to Beast Island by an overwhelmed Catra. That was how Adora, Bow and Swift Wind had found themselves traveling to Beast Island just over a month ago. To tell the truth, this was another surprise for Adora: There were rumors told among the cadets around the Horde that Beast Island didn’t actually exist and that it was a euphemism for summary execution. One of the older cadets she’d known was certain that Hordak just had liars, traitors and various screw-ups shot and their bodies cremated in the skiff-cleansing ports. Well, the fabled place of exile actually did exist, and, as per Shadow Weaver’s warning, was far worse than the usual scary stories about it. And then they’d found a king. While hunting for Entrapta (hopefully not dead), they’d found Micah, the once King of Bright Moon, thought long-dead! And he was a badass sorcerer! (And more than a bit of a goofball). And then…there was Hordak. They’d come across him wrapped up in the despair-inducing vines that grew throughout the island that had been trying to consume them all. He was calling out for Entrapta, crying over his failure to save her and ranting, tearing and screaming at the vines (he still had some fight in him) and he was yelling something about “Prime’s self-lubricating asshole!” as a general curse. Bow asked Adora if She-Ra could bleach his brain. She told him that she didn’t think the powers worked that way because they were not working for her that way. Adora, in She-Ra form, took pity on him and freed him from the vines. Entrapta showed up when she had him at sword-point under threat not to make any funny moves. The rescue went better than expected, although it took Entrapta wrapping the warlord up in a hair-cocoon to keep the signal and the vines from getting at him again. Adora had never seen a man so depressed! He kept going on and on to Entrapta about his unworthiness of her, for “believing that treacherous Force Captain!” and getting her into a deadly situation. Entrapta handled it with her usual aplomb, claiming that Beast Island was a “PARADISE of forgotten technological horrors!” And Adora couldn’t believe it…she saw a smile on his skull-like face! He’d found out that Entrapta was here, apparently, when he’d caught a strange, disconcerting recording from his Imp and did a check over some surveillance-footage caught by the Fright Zone’s cameras that someone had apparently attempted to erase. Though the white noise and screen-snow, he had been able to make out a familiar feline figure and familiar twin-tails of hair. He had put his spy-child in charge of trusted soldiers and had taken his speediest skiff straight to the island. He had not even bothered to deal with Catra, leaving her to her own devices. They say that war makes strange bedfellows. No less than three members of the Horde had joined with the Rebellion recently: Scorpia, Entrapta and… most surprising of all, Lord Hordak! Entrapta read ahead in the canon’s script and let Hordak know what was in store for him should he reunite with Horde Prime. He had to face full-on that his indoctrination and memories were faulty. He could rejoin his master god-brother or stay with his mad scientist girlfriend, not that him even being on Beast Island to rescue Entrapta hadn’t already made the story an alternate universe fanfiction, anyway, but that’s neither here nor there. Entrapta had an ass that wouldn’t quit, so his choice was clear. And this was how Hordak decided to join with the Etherian Rebellion against Horde Prime! And this brings us to the present after this long ramble. “It’s been glossed over,” Entrapta says to you, starting at your soul through the text on your screen, “but give the fanfic author a break! It’s Christmas Week and she celebrates! Although if I’m telling the truth, she’s also pretty lazy.” “I heard that.” “Of course you did! You’re typing it!” “So, anyway,” Entrapta chimes, “Hordak was really sad and conflicted by all of this, but I kissed him better, so you don’t have to worry about him.” “Who ARE you talking to?” Adora asks. In the weeks that followed the Beast Island rescue, Hordak became invaluable to the cause. He knew how Horde Prime operated. He educated the Rebellion on the nature of Horde-clones. He was watched carefully, but he proved himself to be fully on-cause for the freeing of Etheria. “That’s because he didn’t want to be lobotomized!” Entrapta throws your way. “I mean… I had to show him the script, but I got through to him! Also, he didn’t want to see me dragged around by my hair, or be ordered to shoot me, so we totally decided to make this story an AU!” “AU?” Bow asks, “Entrapta, are you talking about gold or something? On the periodic table of elements?” “Nope! I’m talking to the readers! AU stands for Alternate Universe! It’s what happens when something goes different in a timeline and the world is fundamentally changed, even if there are other versions of you in it! Like Rick and Morty!” “Huh?” “Shouldn’t we be concentrating on getting Mara’s ship worthy to go into space?” Adora asks. She is exhausted with bags under her eyes. She has been trying to protect everyone from robots and clones and has been running herself ragged without her She-Ra powers. She’d only now gotten back safely inside the magic-barrier of the Bright Moon war-camp. “Yeeeah… she still lost the She-Ra powers,” Entrapta helpfully explains to you, the reader. “The Heart of Etheria activated, popping us straight out of Despondos! There are stars in the sky now! It’s WONDERFUL! Well, except for all the war and invasion and constant danger of death! But that’s what makes it so exciting! The clone-ships arrived and it’s been a real mess! Glimmer got taken up in a tractor-beam. Hordak explained what it was when we saw it. It’s been a WILD time! And Adora broke her sword because she didn’t want to be forced to activate the weapon, which is kind of disappointing actually, because the explosions would have been EPIC! We could have gotten so much data!” “Entrapta!” “Okay, Bow, okay! I think the readers understand what I’m getting at!” “How are you coming along?” Adora asks her and Bow. She takes a look at Hordak, seated in a chair under the tent where Entrapta and Bow are working with the blueprints to Mara’s ship and miscellaneous computer-parts. “Any luck, any of you?” “Well, we’ve gotta patch up the outer layer of the ship super-super tight because one hull-breach and everyone’s dead! Suffocated in the vacuum of space! There are so many FAAAASCINATING ways to die in space!” “With the exception of myself,” Hordak rumbles. “My people can survive short jaunts into the void.” “Yeah!” Entrapta pipes up, “With his unique cyborg-physiology, he can TOTALLY get spaced and come out alive!” “All the same, I would rather not test it. Open space is… unpleasant.” “He’s already tracked down Horde Prime’s main signal!” Entrapta exclaims, beaming with pride. “What? Really?” Adora asks, taken aback. “I am… as I was… cut off from the hive mind,” Hordak explains, “but I can still overhear some of the mind-whispers of my brothers on a low-level when they are near.” “We also went near to one of the spires while Bow made you take a nap yesterday!” Entrapta tells her. “I know, I know” she says with a wave of a tail of hair made into a hand, “It was super-dangerous. He almost got captured! And it gave him a massive headache, but he could feel the coordinates!” Hordak retrieved something from a bag in the shadows by his chair. He held up a slim data pad with… a smile? Hordak had the goofiest smile on his face that Adora had ever seen. In fact, seeing him so much as crack a simple grin filled her with a terror born of the uncanny valley. “So, are we ready to go save Glimmer, then?” Adora asks hopefully. “Not unless you want to get sucked into the crushing void of space!” Entrapta chimes, pointing a hair-finger in the air. “The ship – I named her Darla, by the way – she took a lot of damage rusting away in the desert for all those years! Centuries! Oh, and the escape from Beast Island wasn’t too kind to her, either! We’ve been working day and night – Bow insists we get rest, I just think we need more espresso (it comes in tiny mugs)!... I estimate we’ll get Darla spaceworthy in, oh…about five years?” “And we don’t have that long,” Bow says with a worried look at the sky. “There’s got to be a way!” Adora nearly wails. “Please!” Hordak stands up from his chair and walks out of the shadows. “I believe I have a solution,” he says. “What? What?” Adora demands, “We modify some of the Fright Zone stuff? If anyone would know how to make a skiff space-worthy, it would be you, I suppose… I mean, you built the Fright Zone from a crashed ship, right?” Hordak calmly holds up a hand. “Cease at once!” he barks. Adora straightens, her soldier’s programming kicking in. “I have a solution that is far more simple, albeit, unusual. Please step back from me.” Dumbfounded, Adora and Bow step away. Entrapta has a knowing, all-too excited grin on her face. Hordak suddenly goes straight and stiff. He holds his head down and pins his ears back. He balls his fists at his sides. “Is he… trying to fight constipation?” Bow asks. Suddenly, sparks of electricity flow over his form. His armor shifts and it seems… like his very skin splits and turns to re-arrange itself in strange plates! The mass starts growing, as if Hordak’s interior was larger than his exterior would have a viewer believe. In less than a minute, where Hordak was standing – there is a large rocket. “Huh? What?!” Adora and Bow exclaim as one. People all around the Bright Moon camp gasp and gawk. Entrapta’s eyes sparkle as one who has just witnessed the revealing of a very special secret that she had been waiting a long time to share. She has the biggest shit-eating grin on her face. King Micah screams. Shadow Weaver huffs and inspects her fingernails. Frosta can be heard saying “Aaaaw, BADASS!” Someone tells her that kids her age should not use the word “Ass.” Adora stares up and up and up. The rocket… has Hordak’s face on it. “Ha-ha!” Entrapta laughs. She looks up at the Hordak-rocket. “You said you didn’t think you could do it anymore, but I knew you could!” “It has been… a long time,” the Hordak-face says stiffly. “His face…is moving…” Bow says with a shiver. He hugs the nearest person to him for support. Thankfully, he latches onto Scorpia, who is a great hugger and also needs the moral support. “I swear I had no idea he could do that!” Scorpia proclaims. “Maybe you should explain, Hordak!” Entrapta encourages. “Very well.” He answers, his mouth and his brows moving in an organic fashion that was most disconcerting to see upon something resembling a nuclear-payload-capable intercontinental ballistic missile. Where had his arms and legs gone? It appeared that they had turned completely into fins. Bow looks down at the end of the rocket pointed toward the ground with a growing wariness. Was that his...? Wait? Was it? He supposed it made sense that his posterior would become…that. What did a Hordak-rocket require for fuel? Spicy food? “I…am a cyborg,” Hordak intones. “All of Horde Prime’s clones are, as well as Horde Prime himself. We have organic parts and technological parts.” “Wait,” Adora says, scratching her head, “Can they ALL do this?” “No,” Hordak answers. “I modified myself further to compensate for my failing health and to suit the environment of Etheria better, as well as… let us say I tried some schemes in warfare in the past that failed and was left stuck with the results. I rarely use my cybernetic shape-shifting abilities as they can be quite…painful.” Entrapta wraps her arms part-way around the cylinder that is now the bulk of Hordak’s body. She wraps her hair around it, too. “Aw…” “I will…deploy an opening and…no more than three of you… can climb inside of me and we can storm the flagship to rescue your queen.” “Inside…you?” Bow asks. Adora makes a face. Everyone in the camp (except for Entrapta, who is beaming) cringes. “Ew…” Scorpia says flatly. “Eh…can we take a raincheck on that?” Adora inquires. “I mean, I’m sure with some extra TLC we can get the other ship working?” “As you wish,” Hordak says. He squints that strange rocket-decal like face until his body shifts in reversal of what it had done before. Once he is in humanoid form again, he sways and Entrapta catches him. “It’s the thought that counts,” she assures him, patting him on the back with her hair. Everyone in the Bright Moon camp cannot stop staring. “What the fuck just happened?!” someone shouts. Adora cannot help but think she dodged a bullet. The last thing she wanted to think about was “being inside Hordak.” THE END.

#spop #she-ra fanfiction #spop fanfiction #spop fanfic #adora #bow #bow (spop)#entrapta #hordak #entrapdak #classic she-ra references #4th wall breaking #silly #comedy #behold! one of the stupidest fanfics in the entire freaking world!

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blueeyeswhitegarden · 1 year

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Day 2: Kahyoreigetsu @arcvmonth

Out of all of the Braclet Girls, Yuzu is my favorite. I really like her determined spirit, her kindness and compassion. Her determination to protect You Show after losing to Masumi leads to her learning Fusion summoning from Sora, which makes them better friends and that hleads her into forming other strong connections with other characters like Serena and Yugo. I love Yuzu's friendship with Yuya. It's arguably the most important relationship in the series. It never felt like a one-sided friendship, but an important connection and support for both of them. That's a huge reason why both Yuya and Yuzu crying over their separation was so emotionally powerful. It felt like they had lost something important and struggled throughout the rest of the series to get back to each other. Even so, Yuzu has plenty of other noteworthy friendships in the series as well, such as with Sora and Yugo. She was willing to put herself in danger against the Obelisk Force during the Battle Royal just so that Serena could learn the truth from Shun. After her understandable emotional breakdown over realizing that she was stuck in Synchro with seemingly no way of getting back home to her loved ones, Yuzu still wanted to warn complete strangers about Academia and how they could potentially be caught in the crossfire of the war, even if she looked and sounded ridiculous in front of them. Even when she was dueling against Sergey, she was worried about his injuries and was trying to end the duel. Yuzu saved the world from Zarc twice, even if she was unaware of it the first time when the Dragon Boys nearly became one in Synchro, and she does not get nearly enough credit for that. I also like her pink pigtails with the blue hairbands and her season one school uniform is her best outfit.

I also really like Yuzu's Melodious deck. I've played with it for awhile in Duel Links, but it's a pretty fun archetype with some great designs. It's probably my favorite archetype among the female leads, especially when I have the most experience playing it with out the batch. I wish that it would get more support like Melodious Pendulum cards. I don't mind that they weren't featured in the show. In-universe, I think it would have been too impractical for Reiji to make Pendulum cards for Yuzu when they didn't know when they'd find her and he was already making Pendulum cards for almost every other Lancer anyway. I don't know why Konami hasn't made Melodious Pendulum cards since then though. Since a lot of her monsters' effects rely on being special summoned, Melodious Pendulum cards would make perfect sense, so hopefully they'll be made someday.

I really like Serena as well. She is confident and more aggressive than Yuzu, but she has a warrior's pride. She was so determined to prove her worth to the Professor, not realizing the truth behind the Dimensional War until she talked to Shun. One of my favorite moments for Serena is just her shocked reaction to hearing Shun's story. She was so set on joining the front lines for what she thought was this noble goal only to learn that everything she knew about Academia was a lie and that they had done so much harm to innocent people. She immediately wanted to fight against Academia and joined the Lancers, which just showed more of her honorable spirit. I like that her aggressive and confrontational attitude wasn't treated like a problem. It's typical for that to be considered more of a flaw among female characters, but that wasn't the case with Serena. She needed to understand that duels can be fun, which she did during her match against Yugo, but it never felt like Serena needed to change her more aggressive personality traits, which was really refreshing and appreciated. I also like Serena's purple hair with the blue highlight and red looks really good with her design as well.

While we don't get to see as much as Rin and Ruri, I thought that they both still worked well with both their roles and limited screentime in mind. Most of Rin's screentime comes from flashbacks from Yugo's perspective, but despite that, it still gives the audience enough insight into their relationship, still made them one of the more popular ships within the fanbase and showed a bit into Rin's own personality. She was smart enough to build a D-Wheel with Yugo and wanted to enter the Friendship Cup to defeat Jack. Rin's duel with Yugo was really good and emotional. I also like her regular outfit. The lighter shade of colors work really well with her design and especially her light green hair. Ruri comes off as a happy and gentle person in her flashbacks. I liked what we saw of her relationship with Yuto. It was cute fluff and I love cute fluff. Even though they may not have known each other long prior to the Dimensional War, I liked how they seemed to instantly develop crushes on each other. Ruri might have my favorite design among the Bracele Girls, but purple is one of my favorite colors and I'm partial to long hair, so long purple hair would be appealing to me.

#Arc V #Arcvmonth

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saratogaroadwrites · 11 months

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For King and Country (111/122)

For King and Country | saratogaroad rating: T total wordcount: 280,466 characters: Evan Pettiwhisker Tildrum, Roland Crane, Aranella, Batu, Tani, Lofty, Leander Aristidies, Bracken Meadows relationships: Roland Crane & Evan Pettiwhisker Tildrum, Aranella & Evan Pettiwhisker Tildrum, Roland Crane & Aranella, Batu & Tani, Batu & Evan, Tani & Evan, Evan Pettiwhisker Tildrum & Lofty, Rolander other tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Mother-Son Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Place Slowly Becomes Home People Slowly Become Family, Found Family, For Want of A Nail warnings: none

Pulled from his world by mysterious powers, former president Roland Crane finds himself caught in the middle of a coup meant to take the life of the young King Evan Pettiwhisker Tildrum. Joining forces with Aranella, the pair of them set out to aid Evan in making his dream of a kingdom where everyone can live happily ever after a reality.

But the road to peace is a long and treacherous one and there is no promise of success in a world where darkness spreads ever thicker with each passing day. If they are to stand a chance, they must stand together, for king and for country.

(A retelling.)

“We should be in the right place,” Roland said, consulting the map pinned to the wall of the airship’s control room. “There’s nothing else bowl-like out here, at least.”

“The Coldera,” Nella read, squinting in the low afternoon light. “No one’s been up this way in ages. There was hardly any traffic between the continents before, but all the way into the north?” She turned to Bracken. “Did people from Broadleaf ever come here?”

“Not as far as I know,” Bracken replied, adjusting the steering wheel to keep them level and steady. “The mountains were way too high. Maybe someone from Hamelin tunneled through, but climb these things? No way. Speaking of—Leander!” She turned to call out the open door as a gust of cold air blew into the halls. Evan tucked himself back with a shiver. “How’s it looking out there?!”

“We are—most definitely over a a great bowl!” Leander called back, teeth audibly chattering. Evan grimaced. The sun going down was taking all heat with it. Poor Leander must have been freezing his fingers off. “It appears clear as well!”

“Alright,” Bracken nodded, “Then I’m taking us down.”

Under Bracken’s steady hand, the airship gently drifted down towards the icy ground below. They touched down with a gentle thud, the howl of the wind dying down as gears ground to a halt. Snow fell towards them in soft flurries, dotting the deck now that they weren’t moving fast enough to dislodge it. Stepping outside, Evan shivered. They’d gone further north once, but somehow it felt colder now than it had then.

Was it because it was winter now, he wondered, or because of the Darkness that had overtaken everything? He glanced up at the deep purple sky, the shade all wrong for the hour. It was almost pitch instead of twilight, and the longer he stared at it the more it seemed to writhe. Evan shivered again, but not because of the cold this time.

“Appears clear,” Tani scoffed, walking out past him. “There’s nothing here, Leander!”

“Arr!” Batu tucked his hands under his arms, “Don’t go tellin’ me we came all this way to the blessed north for nothin’!”

“I don’t think so,” Evan said slowly. Closing his eyes, he reached out. Magic pulled at him curiously, not Dark like he’d have expected it to be, but almost ….Light. He tilted his head, ears pricked forward. “I think we just can’t see it…the tablet did say there was an incantation we needed to call before we would find the Wand, so…”

What did it hurt to try? They were already here, after all. Lofty bounced up onto his shoulder as he reached out with one hand, extending his magic into the air around them. The magic in the ice twined with his, chilled but simply curious. Who was this new caster, it seemed to be asking. Did he know what to do? Evan took a deep breath.

“Wand awake, Darkness to break!”

A fierce wind blew through the Coldera, pulling at hair and cape and coat-tails alike. The magic in the ice began to shift, gathering into a single point of blue-green light. It flared, pushing back a tiny piece of the Darkness, and then—

“Look at that!” Tani rushed past him. Evan opened his eyes to find her standing at the guard rail, pointing into the Coldera. “Over there! Is that a shrine?”

Evan hurried forward. Clutching the guard rail with both hands he leaned forward, squinting into the twilight darkness. Even with his more attuned senses, it still took a moment to spot the shrine, sitting nestled under a crest of ice. It looked a bit like the ruined shrines they had seen scattered across the Heartlands, the same domed top and open air entrance.

“It is,” Leander walked up beside them, still shivering. “Let us get inside and hope this Guardian the Professor mentioned isn’t going to be a problem.”

Hurrying along, the group made their way through the Coldera and to the shrine itself. No monsters came between them and their goal, but the inside of the shrine was as cold as the outside. Evan shivered, but something in the air made him stand up straight. There was something important about this place, something almost…sacred to it. The interior of the shrine was small, barely any larger than the Cradle of Light, with carved stone columns holding up a high ceiling. Two stained glass windows above the entrance cast watery patterns on a mosaic pattern set in the back wall, though everything was cast in blue from the smokeless magical torches set up around the room.

“Feels almost like a tomb in here,” Nella muttered, blowing into her hands. “Is that the magic?”

“Nah, mun.” Lofty shook his head, looking back at her. “This place has been locked away for three thousand years! Course the air’s gonna be a mite stale.” He snorted and turned back around. “Bigger question is, does anybody else feel this is a bit too easy?”

“Lofty, please don’t jinx us,” Evan groaned, though he couldn’t deny that Lofty was right. “Maybe the Guardian just isn’t here?”

“Perhaps, or perhaps finding the shrine was guardian enough?” Leander asked, “It certainly counts as a trial. One would never know where to look if they could not translate Nazcaan runes to learn both the location and the enchantment.”

“I don’t think so.” Roland said. “I think Lofty’s got a point. Look—up there.”

Evan turned to where his adoptive father was pointing. At the back of the room was a small flight of stairs, and at their uppermost point was a platform. In the center of the platform was a raised plinth, a deep blue cushion resting on its top, and on the cushion itself…

“Mornstar!”

Evan darted forward, taking the steps two at a time. The great Wand was exactly as the stories had described it; a stick of deepest oak wood, with the top made of gold. Two wings were outstretched, one on either side of the three magical gemstones that gave it power. The stones were still in their places in the circular setting, gleaming in the dim light. Evan barely dared to breathe. Here it was! They’d found it! He reached out to lift it from the cushion.

“What was it that Mileniyah said?” he heard Roland ask from where he and the others waited. “Should your heart prove worthy. A test to see who is worthy?”

“Roland?”

“The Kingmaker’s trials—Evan, wait!”

Evan’s fingers touched Mornstar. In that same instant, the Wand blazed with a light so bright that he slammed his eyes shut against it. He heard Lofty cry out, but his Kingmaker’s weight quickly disappeared from his shoulder.

“Lofty!”

Whirling around Evan forced himself to open his eyes, only to take a step back in startled shock as he saw not the shrine, but a huge platform exposed to the open air. The night sky stared back at him, a moon eclipsing the sun and leaving only a ring of silvery light around it, while the stars waged war with the shimmering ribbons of color that was the aurora. It was beautiful, but—how had he gotten here? His ears folded back.

“Hello?” he called. His voice echoed despite the open space all around him. “Is there anyone there?”

No answer. Lofty’s presence remained, but it was…faded. Distant. The Kingsbond was intact but he couldn’t reach it. Swallowing hard, Evan tried to think He had touched Mornstar and been taken somewhere else. Another Trial, like when he and Roland had first gone to the Cradle of Light? It had to be, and he’d walked right into it like a fool. He hissed at himself, then shook his head. No point in beating himself up about it now. Nella would do plenty of scolding later. There had to a point for him coming here, some trial to overcome, and he wouldn’t find it cowering beneath the stars. He took a step forward. Metal clanked beneath his boot, but underneath the clank…

Shadows hissed across the floor. Evan leapt back, reaching for his arms band on instinct, but he watched as streaming, writhing shadows flowed the center of the platform. The gathered there, a living pool of black and purple and indigo in the floor, before they sprang upwards into a tangle of strands. Two crimson eyes stared out at him, full of hatred and malice. Instinct yelled at him to call his sword to his hand, to fight, but he held his ground. Professor Mileniyah had mentioned a Guardian. Could this have been the Guardian? If this was a trial, it made sense that there would be one, but then.

Why did it look so much like his own nightmares? He shivered as the eyes kept staring at him, watching him silently. The only motion came from the shots of midnight-purple and twilight-indigo streaking through the pitch darkness. He lay a hand on his arms band and held on tight.

“Are you the Guardian?” He called, “Is this a Trial?”

Trial, test! A chorus of voices rang through his head, half warped but half familiar as the voices of the others. He could just pick out Tani’s scoff as the Darkness answered, Test? What test! You failed! You always fail!

He stepped back. The shadows slipped forward. “I—”

Your home is in danger, your family threatened! Your people live in terror! You could not keep them safe!

“That’s not true!” Evan yowled, heart skipping a beat. “Evermore is—”

Doomed! It will fall, all because you could not do your duty!

The shadows drew nearer. Evan took another two steps back, trying to stay out of the thing’s reach, but he was quickly running out of room on the platform. He slipped into his stance, reaching for his arms band. He’d have to fight this thing off!

“I know I didn’t fulfill my duty!” He shouted, “But I’m trying to make things right! I’m going to—we’re going to make everything alright again!”

At what cost?!, the shadows shrieked in Nella’s voice, a foul wind kicking up all around them. Who else has to get hurt for your sake!

He didn’t have a chance to answer. With a tremendous shout, the shadows threw themselves forward. Evan threw himself out of the way, calling on his magic. Light had fended this thing off before, he just had to—

He couldn’t reach it. The Light answered his call, but it felt as if it were simply out of reach or behind thick glass that he couldn’t break. Did he just have no control over it without Lofty, or—

He didn’t have a chance to finish the thought. The shadows were on him again and he had to scramble out of the way as more tendrils slammed into where he had been standing.

Useless, useless boy! Batu’s voice echoed, Can’t even call on his own magic! Worthless King! Should have died with his father!

“Stop!” He yowled, calling his sword to his hand. He couldn’t reach his Light, but maybe— “I don’t want to fight you!”

I don’t want to fight you! the shadows parroted back at him in his own, echoing voice. He could hear the sneer as they said, Stupid boy! Won’t even fight for his own life! Love and peace and hope won’t solve anything! Good for nothing—useless, useless!

The shadows rushed him again. Darting out of the way, he slipped into his stance. No Light, no time to use his magic, and it was clear that talking this thing down wasn’t going to happen. Alright then. If it wanted a fight, it would get one!

Charging forward before the shadows could rush again, Evan sliced at them with his blade. He watched, heart sinking, as the sharp end carved through the shadows like they were made of water. The gash left in his wake closed itself up as fast as it had been made, leaving the shadows completely unharmed. They laughed at him, everyone’s voices worming their way beneath his skin.

Stupid, stupid boy! they shrieked with laughter, The Darkness always wins! You cannot hope to force it back!

Faster than he could really see the shadows erupted, two wickedly sharp edged strands whizzing out and directly at him! Pivoting on his heel he dodged the first but the other still skimmed across his cheek. Hot blood dripped down his face as he scrambled away, droplets dropping off his chin. The shadows laughed again. Evan grit his teeth.

“Be quiet,” He snarled at them. The shadows only laughed harder. “I said be quiet!”

With a yowl of rage, Evan charged forward. Slashing wildly he drove the shadows back, harrying them across the platform, but even though his anger he could see he wasn’t even making a dent in them. It was like slashing through water. Once the ripples cleared, it was as if nothing had ever happened. He could hit it! He knew he had hit it! It was just that hitting it didn’t seem to do any good.

Evan couldn’t count himself so lucky. Giving as good as it got the shadow had gotten him a few more times, weeping wounds across his arms and sides. The injuries pulsed with every beat of his racing heart as he stumbled back, the shadows laughter echoing in his ears while he heaved for breath. This couldn’t go on much longer. He was running out of energy nearly as quickly as he was running out of room on the platform. Setting his stance, he swallowed hard. There had to be some other way, but…what? What was he missing?

Not strong enough, never strong enough! The shadows roared in Leander’s voice, Failure, failure!

Evan grit his teeth. Though it was using the others against him, it was yelling his own doubts and fears and worst thoughts. The things he told himself in the back of his mind, and the things that still haunted him in the night. His own worst fears.

His nightmares.

Wait. Was it a Nightmare? How had Sage Oliver and the others defeated them—

He didn’t have a chance to finish the thought before the shadows lashed out again. Two tendrils sprang forward, wrapping around him with an ice cold chill. They pinned his arms to his sides; his sword fell from his hand as they squeezed so tight that his shout became a breathless wheeze, the sound lost to yet more laughter as the shadows lifted him high into the air. The squeezed harder, all the breath forced from his lungs.

Useless, useless! Can’t do anything alone! they screamed at him in Roland’s voice, the sound making his heart ache. Always relying on others! Can’t do anything by himself!

“That’s not—” true, Evan tried to say, but he couldn’t finish as the shadows squeezed him even harder. His ribs creaked, pain lighting up and down his spine. They’d break him in half if this kept up! His vision began to gray from the lack of air. “I—”

The shadows didn’t let him finish. Too quick to even try and brace himself, the shadows slammed him down into the platform. A sound not unlike a struck gong rang through the space as he hit metal back first, stars scattering across his vision and pain erupting down his back. He couldn’t even cry out, too stunned to do more than gasp for air as the shadows loosened their grip enough for him to breathe.

Just a scared, scared little boy the shadows crooned in Nella’s voice. Another strand wove around his neck, the end almost gently stroking his cheek. Just sleep, sweetheart. Stop fighting. Give up.

Give up? At that moment, a part of him wanted to. He hurt, he was tired, and he couldn’t see any way out of this fight. He couldn’t see a way out of any of this. Tears spilled over, stinging the cut on his cheek. It would be so easy to just lay there, to give up and let this thing finish him off. They were all going to die anyway, so what was the point?

No. No, he couldn’t think like that! Maybe they stood no chance at all, but they had to try. He hadn’t come this far by quitting when things were hard, when he wanted to throw in the towel and stop. And maybe he wanted to, but there were too many people who still needed him for him to quit now! Even so…

“You’re right,” he wheezed. The shadows stopped moving. It took too much of his energy to turn his head and stare at the main body, now close enough to touch. He stared at the writhing shadows, stars visible through the tiny gaps through twining strands. Something darker moved within them and he narrowed his eyes. Was there…someone in there? “I’m scared. I’m terrified that…that we won’t be able to stop Doloran…”

That everything they had been through would be for nothing. That people would be hurt. That, no matter what they tried or prayed or hoped for, they would lose Roland anyway. His breath caught in his throat.

“But just because I’m scared…doesn’t mean I’m going to give up…Too many people are counting on me…I can’t…”

It didn’t matter. If there was even a chance that there was someone in there, he had to help them. He couldn’t leave anyone to fall to the Darkness if he had a chance to help them. Pressing past the aches and pains in his body, he managed to roll onto his side. One hand slipped across the metal floor.

“I won’t give up,” he hissed through his teeth, “I’ll never give up!”

Look around, failure king! the shadows crowed, dark amusement tainting the familiar voices within. You are alone! You have always been alone! No one stands beside you!

Metal shrieked, buckling as more strands slammed into it all around him. The platform shook, nearly knocking Evan back down as he struggled to rise onto his elbow. The shadows grip around him was loosening somehow!

“I’m not…” he shook his head. Another strand slammed into the ground, so close he could feel the air whiz by his ears. Metal gave way, the entire platform threatening to break. He lifted his head and shouted, “I’m not alone!”

Everything stopped. The Darkness stared at him. Evan stared back, teeth bared.

“I’ve made mistakes,” he admitted, “And not done enough sometimes. I’ve run from things because I’ve been scared, and people have gotten hurt because of it, but they—they still stand with me!” He dragged in a huge breath, clean smelling air lending him strength enough to get to his knees. “Maybe the others aren’t with me here and now, and maybe—maybe someday something will happen that forces us apart. Maybe we just can’t stay together forever, but I know that no matter what, they will always be with me! And I’ll always be with them! No distance will ever come between us, and no Darkness either!”

Magic seared through him, his own pure Light rushing through his veins and out of his skin to force back the Dark. The shadows shrieked, the strands holding him down fading away into mist. Bolstered by the Light, Evan got back to his feet, staring down the Darkness.

“Say whatever you want! I’ll never give up!”

The Light flared even brighter, too bright to see through. The shadows shrieked, so loud and so high that his ears hurt, but he stepped forward into the light. Reaching out with both hands, he stepped forward until his fingers skimmed across something.

Shoulders. Small, hunched shoulders. He’d been right: there had been someone trapped in the Darkness. Closing his eyes, he pulled them into his arms.

“It’s alright,” he whispered to them, a soft ear brushing against his temple. “It’s over now.”

With a final burst of power, the Light banished the Darkness. Hands came up around his back, clinging to his cape. Sniffles filled the space, the sound half-familiar but no longer warped by the darkness. Opening his eyes, Evan was unsurprised to find himself embracing himself…or at least, he as he had been just a year ago.

Gosh, had he really been that small?

“It’s alright,” he said again, and those small hands tightened their grip. “It’s okay to be scared. I’m still scared.”

“No you’re not.” His younger self whimpered. “You’re not scared of anything.”

“Of course I am.” Evan said. “I’m scared of a lot of things. I’m scared of failing everyone, and I’m scared of anyone getting hurt, and—and I’m still a little cared of swimming, too!” He sighed heavily, pulling back to look his younger self in his tear filled eyes. “But I’m more scared to lose everything I care about. That’s why I’m doing this. I have to try.”

“But…” His younger self sniffled. “What if you can’t win? What if he’s too powerful, and it’s too much for any of you? What if…what if you fail?”

Evan hesitated. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of that, if the thoughts hadn’t given him cause for concern, if he didn’t admit to at least himself that he was still scared, but…

“We’ll know we tried.” He said softly, then more strongly, “You’re right. He may be too powerful, and maybe we don’t stand any real chance at all, but…not trying? That’s even worse! I couldn’t…” He took a deep breath, steeling himself. “I couldn’t bear it if we didn’t try. I know we might fail, and we might all be destroyed anyway, but….I know that all of us would rather try and fail then never try at all.”

His younger self tilted his head. Evan blinked; had his eyes been that green before?

“You’re sure? You think that everyone would really want to try?”

“I know they do.” Evan answered. “We may not have started out as such, and maybe there’s been some rough times, but we’re all family now. We all want the same thing, and we’re ready to take the chance.”

They wouldn’t have been here if they weren’t. It was more than just loyalty to their King that had brought them with him, Evan thought, it really was the bond they all shared. They had all been supporting him from the beginning, even if that meant making him see the errors in his thinking, and he hoped that they knew he supported them, too. Pressing a hand to his chest, Evan smiled.

“Even if we’re all scared, I know that we’re going to do our best, but.” He frowned. “…You knew that already, didn’t you? You just…had to be sure of it. That’s what this trial was about.”

His younger self smiled at him, a wisdom that Evan knew he hadn’t had back then entering his suddenly too-green eyes.

“Yes,” the boy said to him, a second voice overlaid overtop, “It was. And you passed.”

His figure flared into light. Evan had to look away, eyes watering from the brightness. Once it had faded he turned back, taking a startled step away from the woman now standing in front of him.

“Queen Cassiopeia?!”

“King Evan,” She nodded, ruler to ruler, a soft smile on her face. Her white armor and cape gleamed in the starlight. “My apologies for the deception. I had to be certain that the heart reaching for Mornstar was one of goodness, not evil. I see now that I had no cause for such concern.”

Evan blinked at her a few times. She was—how was—

“How are you—”

“Oh, this?” She peered down her form, brushing invisible dust from her skirts. “It’s hardly anything to be alarmed about. Just a part of my soul sealed away within Mornstar.” She looked at him with a smile. “You needn’t worry. I’m not some ghost here to haunt you for daring to pick up the wand.”

“Um.” Evan said smartly, blinking at her. This was sounding like something out of the stories, but then again, she herself was from that storied, magical time. He blinked, then cleared his throat. “That’s…good?” He shook himself. “Of course it is—I’m sorry, this is all rather overwhelming. This was truly a test?”

“Yes,” She nodded, “It was designed to see into the heart of anyone who would seek Mornstar, to learn their intentions. Each soul would be forced to face their worst fears, and how they did so would reveal to me what sort of person they are. In your case,” She tilted her head, “The shadows could have been defeated through force, had you tried hard enough, but a heart so willing to destroy without question is one that would have never been allowed to hold Mornstar.”

Had he given into his anger and fear, he would have failed. He nodded slowly; it made sense. A sword raised in fear would never solve as many problems as a hand extended in kindness. He’d learned that lesson well.

“So seeing someone trapped in the shadows and trying to help them was…”

“An act of kindness, and a mark of a wise heart. One that is willing to see beyond first appearances even after their own life is at risk.” She smiled. “As I said, you passed the test wonderfully. Perhaps you have had practice?”

Maybe a little, Evan thought ruefully. The shadows had nothing on Mausinger, after all. He shook off the thought.

“Perhaps—but, what does passing the test mean? Does this mean I’ve earned the right to use Mornstar?”

“Yes,” Queen Cassiopeia nodded, “You have. I only ask that you use it wisely. Mornstar is a tool, but it is a powerful one. No matter your plight I ask that you treat it with respect, and make sure you only use it for the right reasons.”

“Of course,” Evan nodded back firmly. “We’re trying to protect the world, not harm it. I swear to you, I will only use it for good and once it is no longer needed, I will return it to the shrine. And—” He sighed through his nose. “Truthfully, I’m…not entirely sure if it would do us much good. I have no Light spells, and the Wizard’s Companion has been lost for centuries.”

“Has it now? I see.” Queen Cassiopeia tilted her head back. “Yes, that does present a bit of problem, but perhaps it is one we may yet solve.”

“What?”

“You see, when Oliver departed our world for his own, he entrusted his magical things to us.” Queen Cassiopeia’s voice took on a distant quality. “He left his Familiars to his dearest friends, his wands to the then Emperor of Hamelin, and Mornstar he entrusted to me. As for the Wizard’s Companion…” She looked back down. “He entrusted that to Mr. Drippy, Lord High Lord of the Fairies.”

“So that means it’s…with Mr. Drippy even now?” Evan asked. It had been three thousand years, longer even, since Sage Oliver’s time. Could Fairies live that long? He frowned. “But that means we’d have to find him, doesn’t it? How can we find one Fairy in a world this big?”

“Mr. Drippy has the tendency to find you when you least expect it,” Queen Cassiopeia said with a tight smile, “but that won’t be necessary. After Oliver departed, Mr. Drippy said that he would ensure the Companion would always remain with Mornstar, so as to safeguard their combined power. I’m not quite sure where the wand has ended up, but I can only assume that he did as he said he would, so it’s likely close by. Probably behind some riddle or puzzle, if I had to guess.”

“I see.” Evan cupped his chin. Behind a riddle or a puzzle in the Shrine, then? He hadn’t seen anything obviously out of place, but then, he hadn’t gotten a very good look at the place either. Nodding, he lifted his head. “Well, that’s more than what we had before. Thank you, your Majesty.”

“You are very welcome, King Evan,” She nodded her head. Her image began to fade, the sky behind her beginning to lighten. “I wish you success, and remember: no matter how dark things may seem, there is always light to be found.”

He didn’t get a chance to thank her for her advice. Between one blink and the next, he found himself standing in the Shrine once more, hand closed around Mornstar’s handle. The others had crowded around him, Tani on the other side of the plinth with Lofty on her head, both of them staring at him with wide, worried eyes. No longer forcibly removed from the same place, Evan was able to feel Lofty’s concern through their bond as well.

“Evan!” Tani said, “Can you hear us? Say something!”

“Um.” Evan said smartly. “Something?”

Immediately everyone heaved huge sighs of relief. Evan flushed pink as he looked around; the adults had all stumbled back a pace or two, stopped on the steps with hands to their foreheads or chests as they caught their breath. He scrunched up his nose, turning back to Tani and Lofty who were now half bent over the plinth.

“What?” He asked, “Did I disappear or something?”

“Or somethin’!” Lofty erupted. Evan had to pull his hand back or get jumped on as Lofty bounced onto the plinth, walking oddly to avoid touching Mornstar himself. “You flippin’ set off a trap and went all blank-eyed on us! Scared us half to death!”

“Nothin’ we did brought you ‘round, lad,” Batu said, reaching up to lay one big hand on his shoulder. Evan was surprised to find the big man’s eyes wet. They had been that worried? Finding himself unable to figure out what to do with his equally lifted and sinking heart, Evan could only listen as Batu continued, “Leander said best we could do was wait for ye to come back.”

“And come back you have,” Leander said; Evan turned to find him at the bottom of the steps, slipping his glasses back on. There was a streak of red across his cold-pale face, the mark of a too rough dash to hide tears. “Thank all the Gods for that.”

Evan smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry, everyone. I didn’t realize that would happen.” He looked back to Mornstar. It lay peaceful and unmoving on its cushion, unassuming if one didn’t know the story behind it. “But it wasn’t a trap. It was a trial.”

“Start from the beginning,” Roland said, a hand on Nella’s shoulder. “What happened?”

“Well,” Evan took a deep breath and chose his words very carefully. He didn’t want them to worry more than they already had. “I touched Mornstar and…I suppose my mind was taken into the wand somehow, because when I opened my eyes I was…somewhere else. There was a monster in front of me, and I had to find a way to…well, subdue it, I think.”

He could already tell Lofty knew he was lying, curiosity and aggravation pressing against the bond-space. He swallowed hard.

“The test was to see how I would treat an enemy,” Evan said before Lofty could interrupt him, “And when I didn’t just jump to killing it, I was able to talk it down. A little.” He looked away. “The monster wasn’t really a monster. It was Queen Cassiopeia.”

“Queen Cassiopeia?” Leander said, startled. “But how was she—”

“Like Gallus!” Bracken exclaimed. Everyone looked at her; she stared back, then spread her hands. “What? I can read a storybook, too!” She looked at Evan. “But it was like that, yeah? A soul sealed in a wand?”

“That is what she said,” Evan agreed with a knowing smile, “She also told me that the Wizard’s Companion was given to Mr. Drippy before Sage Oliver returned to his world.”

“Knickers!” Lofty slapped both hands to his face, “O’course he’s got the flippin’ thing, an’ o’course he’s the one flippin’ Fairy nobody can find, ‘en’t it! That’s just flippin’ typical!”

Evan shook his head. “I don’t think it’s that, though. She said that he’d promised to keep the Companion close to Mornstar, and that she thought it would be around here somewhere…I just don’t know where.”

It really could have been anywhere. The shrine wasn’t that big as far as shrines went, but compared to the size of a book it was massive. Evan looked around with a pensive frown. If he’d been a Fairy, where would he have hidden something so important? And how would he have hidden it so it could be found if it was needed? It couldn’t have been entirely obvious, but it couldn’t have been completely hidden away, either. So where could it be?

“Hang on,” Tani said, “What about back here? Why make something this fancy if it didn’t mean something?”

Everyone turned to her. She’d turned her back on Evan and was pointing at the mosaic scene pressed into the back wall. Evan stepped around the plinth for a closer look. As the scene resolved itself before him, he realized he recognized it. It was the scene of the final battle against Shadar in the story, with Oliver, Esther, Swaine, and Mr. Drippy all fighting against the Dark Djinn. Mornstar the Wand was in Oliver’s hand, raised at the final moment of a cast spell, and in the middle of the mosaic was a large depiction of Mornstar the Spell.

It was almost too large. Evan reached forward.

“Ah!” Tani snatched his wrist, glaring at him. “No more touching strange things, you. Let me do it this time.”

“Tani—”

“Let. Me.” She repeated, her eyes flashing. He stared at her for a few seconds and searched her face. There were lines at the corners of her eyes and her lower lip wobbled. She was still worried, he realized. Worried he might blank out again? Worried that this time he might not come back? He sighed quietly, resolving to do something nice for her soon.

“Alright,” He said.

He watched her steady herself, holding onto his wrist for a few seconds longer than she had to before she let go, turning back to the mosaic. She contemplated it for a moment, then reached out and pressed her fingers to Mornstar the Spell’s golden painted tiles. There was a noise from behind them as Batu took a step forward, ready to leap up and grab her, but there was no need.

With a quiet click, a section of tile first shifted back, then upwards out of sight to reveal a small alcove in the wall itself. Quick as a flash Tani lunged forward, grabbing something Evan didn’t get a chance to see before she skipped back, out of reach of anything that might have come out of the wall. Everyone held their breath—then let it go as nothing happened. Evan chose to keep quiet this time, peering over Tani’s shoulder.

“What was—oh!”

His ears went straight up. It was hard to see with Tani’s vice grip on the thing, but as she loosened her hold, aged brown leather revealed itself. The pattern stamped into the cover had barely faded from the drawings in the storybook he had read so many times, ancient writing proclaiming it to be exactly what they’d been searching for.

“The Wizard’s Companion,” he barely dared to breathe. Tani held it out to him, wonder in her eyes. It had been one thing for him to face Cassiopeia’s remnant, but to hold this in their hands, to know that all the stories had been real— “it’s here!”

Pages crackled beneath his fingers as Evan cracked open the ancient tome. They were yellowed with age and time, but showed no signs of falling apart. Dozens of pages flipped by, full of knowledge thought lost to the years that had passed. Each page had text in both Nazcaan runes and the trade language that all nations shared now, though he didn’t dare ask how that was. “Well don’t go keepin’ it all secret like!” Lofty bounced onto his shoulder, “let the rest of us see too, sunshine!”

What—oh, right. Of course. Evan took the few steps back to the top of the stairs, close enough that the others could crowd around and stare. Nelle held one hand to her mouth.

“Gods…” She whispered, “It really is real! I thought for sure—”

“So the stories were true!” Bracken shook his head. “Zip’s going to blow his top when he hears about this one.”

“It’s—” Leander reached forward, then pulled his hand back. “Are the spells there, Evan? Have we truly found it?”

Evan jolted. He stopped leisurely flipping through pages and quickly went for the index, scanning for the right pages he would need. Finding the numbers easily, he flipped back to that section of the book and started reading.

“Form Familiar, Healing Touch, Draw Poison, Healing Hand…Take and Give Heart…” He kept reading. Every spell he had heard about in Sage Oliver’s story. A few spells he had learned under Nella’s tutelage in Dell, and— “here it is! Mornstar!”

The powerful rune stared back at him, hope written in ink. With this, and with the Wand, they stood a real chance! A single tear of relief slipped down his cheek; he wiped it away and looked up, grinning from side to side.

“It’s really—we can—”

The words failed him. Nella reached out and took him into her arms, his head resting on her shoulder.

“We can do this, Evan,” She said quietly. Leander slipped the book from his hands, letting him turn to embrace her. “We have a chance now.”

A chance. A real chance! He took a deep, shuddering breath, letting it all go. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart.

“We do,” he said, smiling at her in thanks. She tucked some hair out of his eyes and let him go. He turned around, reaching out for Mornstar a second time. Everyone held their breath, letting it go only when Evan picked up the wand without incident. It sat light in his palm, but he could feel the weight of its importance. This was to be their only chance. They couldn’t get anything wrong now. He looked around at his companions. “Let’s go home. It’s time to get ready.”

It was time to take the battle to Doloran.

#nnk2 #ni no kuni 2 #nnk2 fic #!fic #fic: for king and country

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ayamari-no-goshi · 2 years

Text

And Think of Him as Living - Danny’s chapter

AO3 — > Companion to this fic, To Join the Whispers

Fandoms: Danny Phantom (DP) / DC universe

Summary: THIS IS A CROSSOVER. What was supposed to have been a normal mission to stop members of the League of Assassins became something so much more when their family accidentally tangled with a ghost. And sometimes, the details leading to the resolution were obvious to some while completely missed by others. Companion chapters to ‘To Join the Whispers’ written from the POVs of some of the others

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, and questionable mental health

Parings: none

Notes: originally uploaded to AO3. Cross-posted to tumblr

Danny tuned out his parents as they ranted about how ghosts must have infiltrated the various hero organizations throughout the world. They’d never be able to see the flaws in their own logic, especially not after they interacted with Jason the previous night.

He had the shock of a lifetime when he woke up in the hotel room the Bats were using to find out what happened after he’d been knocked out. Jason was officially a halfa like him, like Vlad, and he felt so conflicted about it.

Jason had made it very clear he didn’t want superpowers. While Danny didn’t want to pry, he figured it had something to do with his criminal past. If he’d done even half the things the Red Hood had been reported to do in the years after his appearance, then it made sense he didn’t want that temptation. On top of that, the way Vlad triggered that transformation… It just wasn’t right.

But, Jason was like him now. He was someone else who was unfortunately trapped between life and death and was forced to deal with the uncertainty of it. There’d be several weeks of adjustment as he figured out how to control his new powers and deal with the changes to his body.

And, according to Dick, Nightwing, and the others, Jason had fiercely protected Danny from his parents. While he knew the Bats wouldn’t purposely allow their allies to be harmed, there was just something about it that deeply touched him. It was true Jason didn’t know he was in his ghost form at time, didn’t realize just how dangerous ghost hunting gear was to him now, but he still made that decision to protect him.

He also cared, like legitimately cared. For example, Jason had called him out on how he tried to minimize Vlad hurting him. It was so strange to hear someone who understood being a hero scold him for shrugging things like that off. Sure, Jazz had warned him about it too, but it meant more coming from Jason.

He could sort out his mixed feelings later. Right now, he needed to conspire with Jazz to make sure his parents don’t do something stupid, like deciding to go after Batman, or Ancients forbid, Superman, because they think they’re ghosts. Danny loved his parents, he really did, but once they got a wrong idea in their heads, sometimes nothing could change it.

….

“Took you long enough.” Irritation laced Sam’s voice as she watched him approach their favorite spot in Amity’s Marley Park from her perch in a large and old maple tree. “You better have one heck of an explanation for us after what happened last night.”

Tucker glanced up from his PDA and gave a slight wave. “The news has been freaking out all morning over the appearance Batman and the other heroes from Gotham in Amity. Normally, I would have given my left arm to have gotten a chance to meet some of them, but, dude, you got seriously hurt. I thought you said they weren’t here for any ghost business.”

“They weren’t.” Danny sighed as he collapsed at the foot of Sam’s tree. “Vlad decided to get them involved.” After debating for a moment, he added, “I’m not going to be able to tell you everything because parts of it I just can’t. I don’t need to be watching over my shoulder because Batman thinks I gave away too many secrets.”

Tucker took a seat next to him and sympathetically patted his shoulder. “I get that. Tell us what you can.”

“I think I told you they were originally here investigating those weird people we saw around town. Nightwing and Red Robin gave me a bit more context this morning once they were sure I was okay.” That was a tense meeting. Once they made sure he was okay and provided a little more information in case more assassins showed up in the future. Then he found out what happened to Jason. “I guess the leader of those guys is researching things associated with immortality and coming back to life. He’s already somewhat familiar with ectoplasm as he owns a corrupted pool of the stuff.”

The echoes of Jason saying, ‘A regular pain in the ass watches over something similar to your parents’ Portal. He mostly uses it for healing injuries and keeping himself young and insane,’ repeated in his head. Just how problematic was this guy?

“And with Amity being filled to the brim with ghosts,” Sam climbed down from the branch to sit next to them, “and your parent’s portal, it would make sense they’d come here. Your new friend, Jason, he’s one of the Bats, right? That’s why he asked you if you could check outside.” When he raised an eyebrow at her, she backtracked, “Secrets related to Batman, right.”

“I told you I was curious about Jason because I could feel the ectoplasm in his body, right?” When his friends nodded, he continued, “Well, Vlad was also aware of that. Frostbite told us he was still technically human but with enough ectoplasm to be a bit ghostly. But Vlad didn’t get that memo and though either the process was still ongoing, or he had a dormant core or something. While his family was distracted outside, Vlad … I guess he decided it would be easier to get Jason to go along with his plans by showing how strong he was by overshadowing all of the guests.”

“Guys, what Vlad ended up doing…” He couldn’t finish. Jason’s screams were going to haunt his dreams for weeks. Had he sounded anything like that when he was dying in the portal?

And then there was the scramble to get Vlad out of the way so they could get Jason out of that thing. Batman hadn’t even cared if he got hurt trying to break that glass. There was just a tangible feeling of fear and desperation because his family had no idea what was happening to him.

To make it worse, a growing horror had gnawed at Danny in the tense few moments after Jason was pulled to safety. His form was flickering. It wasn’t the same as unstable invisibility. No, there had been a very real possibility he could have faded. There were a lot of hushed debates among ghosts if that meant they passed on properly or just ceased to be, and not knowing that was not something he wanted to admit to a devastated Batman.

“… I can’t even talk about it.” He ran his hands through his hair as he tried for find words. “If… if what happened to me when I went into the Portal was anywhere near as bad as what Vlad did to him, I’m so sorry I put you through that.”

His friends didn’t say anything. Instead, they moved closer, so they were touching his shoulders with theirs as a silent form of support and comfort. After a moment, Sam started moving her hands in comforting circles on his back while Tucker pulled up a few photos of animals getting the better of the G.I.W on his PDA to help lighten the mood. He really didn’t deserve his friends.

As the mood lightened some, Tucker uncomfortably shifted before asking, “I hate to be the one to ask, but is Jason okay?”

“Mostly?” He was starting to get into territory where he had to be careful what he said again. “You know how I was after my accident? Well, that’s how it’s going to be for him for a while.”

“Wait, you’re telling me Vlad succeeded? Dude, that’s seriously messed up. Wait!” Tucker sat straight up. “Is… is that why the Red Hood looked like that? I couldn’t figure out why he was wearing blue.”

“I’m not allowed to confirm or deny that.”

“Pushing that aside, are we just going to ignore the fact that your new friend is a mass murderer and now has ghost powers?” Of course, that was what Sam would end up focusing on. “I knew there was a reason he bothered me.”

“He didn’t want powers,” Danny snapped at her before reigning in his temper. She didn’t have all of the information he did, and he had to remind himself of that. “I asked him about it, and he was very honest about what he has and hasn’t done. After talking to Frostbite, he told me he’d ruin my reputation if he was unlucky enough for things to become permanent.” While he wasn’t able to see it on his face due to his gear at that specific time, Danny hadn’t missed the bitterness and possibly self-loathing in Jason’s expression when he tried to get him to use his powers before the transformation happened. He really didn’t trust himself.

Nightwing, Dick, had told him that Jason was working on redeeming himself. Did it erase everything he’d previously done, no? But, the fact that he was aware of that and actively trying to do better said a lot about his character.

Was it the loneliness talking? Maybe. Jason would officially be the only person, other than Vlad, he could talk to about the weirdness of being half-dead. Though, when he left for Gotham, would they even have a chance to talk again? With how busy Jason and his family were reported to be with their hero duties, it was a real possibility.

Danny could worry about it later. He still had to explain things to his friends.

“Frostbite mentioned the corrupted ectoplasm in his system affected his thoughts,” Danny continued as he pushed aside his thoughts about his new friend leaving, “and his brothers used the term ‘pit madness’ when we were trading information before he woke up. They’d seen similar behavior in others who’d been exposed to it like him, but those guys didn’t have the same permanent effects.” And even if he hadn’t said anything, Danny hadn’t missed how some of the tension in Jason’s shoulders lessened when Frostbite told him things would get better.

“Woah, back up,” Tucker scooted so he could look him in the eyes. “Are you saying there are others, other humans, who have been driven crazy by ectoplasm?”

“I guess? Both Frostbite and Jason and his family suggested it happened, but it’s not like I’m going to get any more information about it from Batman. I might be able to coax Frostbite to give me more info… I could ask Clockwork, but you know how hard it is for me to get him to directly tell me anything.”

As he thought about it for a moment, he jolted slightly. “Guys, I forgot to tell you about the damage control Jazz and I had to play before I met up with you. If you want to talk about crazy, my parents are currently making a list of all the heroes they think might be ghosts.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam stared at him, “I think I misheard you. What are your parents doing?”

….

As dinner rolled around, Danny found himself wandering the streets of Amity with his friends. While his friends still wanted more information about what happened the previous night, they knew he needed a bit of normalcy. One of the things about being a halfa was that he didn’t get a lot of time to just be himself and not worry about the next ghost attack or whatever nasty plot Vlad decided to pull.

As they turned onto the street where the majority of the non-Nasty Burger restaurants were located (Sam had decided to treat them), Danny noticed a few familiar figures. The Wayne family, minus Jason and Bruce, were arguing at across the street. As their voices wafted towards them, he could catch bits of insults from mostly Tim and Damian and talk of dinner.

Before he could decide if he should wave or not, Dick noticed him and caught the other’s attention. Soon they were across the street and had somewhat surrounded them. Their postures weren’t threatening, but after what Danny saw of what they could do the previous night, it still made him a bit nervous.

Cass must have noticed as she tapped Dick on the arm. “He’s wary.”

“Huh, oh!” Dick gave Danny an apologetic grin. “Sorry about that.”

“We’re just out to grab some grub,” Duke explained as he glanced around. “Living in a mansion is nice and all, but we don’t get a lot of chances to grab take out.”

“Don’t let Alfred hear you say that. You’ll break his heart,” Dick teased before noticing the confusion written on Danny and his friend’s faces. “Alfred is Bruce’s butler and unofficial dad.”

“I know that feeling,” Sam grudgingly admitted, “but my parents just think that any food that isn’t bought from their upscale markets or whatever isn’t fit enough to eat.” She made a face. “And yet the vegan options they’ll bring home for me are bland and tasteless.”

“Sam, vegan options are already bland and tasteless.” Tucker put his hands up with a shrug as she turned around to glare at him. “What? I’m just stating the facts, and let’s not forget your ultra-recyclo-vegetarian phase. You tried to convince us that grass on a bun was edible.”

“I already told you that all of that was perfectly safe to eat. You’re just mad that my individuality upset a ghost.”

“Yeah, a ghost who threw ovens that spat ghostly fire at us.”

“I am not sure I understand,” Damian interrupted with a huff. His eyes were darting between the three of them. “A ghost did not appreciate vegan options and attacked as a result?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you speak like an old man?” Danny asked before he could stop himself causing Tim to start laughing. “Sorry, that was kind of rude. But, yeah, the ghost who most of call the Lunch Lady wasn’t happy that someone,” he glanced at Sam, “changed the school menu. That was the first major ghost attack in Amity.”

“I was just properly educated unlike the majority of the ignorant population.”

“Just keep telling yourself that, demon,” Tim muttered before glancing at Dick. “Is it a bad thing I want to know who’s worse, this lunch lady ghost or Condiment King?”

“Condiment King? Should I ask?” When he noticed the varying looks of annoyed frustration, Danny amended, “I guess he’s Gotham’s version of the Box Ghost, got it. Anyways, is Jason around too?”

Dick’s smile slipped off his face. “No, he’s back at the hotel room. Him and Bruce are bonding which means we should probably figure out what we want for dinner and head back. You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like.”

“I…”

Before Danny could make up his mind, Tucker made a show of checking his PDA. “Crap, I totally forgot it’s meatloaf night. Sorry guys, you know I won’t miss that for the world. Nice meeting all of you.” It definitely wasn’t meatloaf night – that was on Wednesdays. Tucker was purposely giving him space to handle Phantom related business.

Was he really that transparent? He wasn’t that worried about Jason. Okay, maybe he was.

“Guess I should get going too,” Sam mentioned taking a cue from Tucker, though she couldn’t quite keep the scowl off her face. “Keep us up to speed with what your parents are doing. I want to know what crazy plan they creating to take down the Batman. You know full well he’s going to end up on the list of heroes they think are ghosts.”

“Right now, they’re still in the debating phase, but Dad was talking about possibly modifying that ice ray they have on the GAV.” Danny did everything he could to ignore the stares of the heroes circling him.

Sam just rolled her eyes before glancing at the Waynes. “There’s a new Thai place that’s opened up down the road. We’ve heard it’s pretty good. Anyways, you better send a text when you get home tonight. I don’t want to find out tomorrow that you got knocked out and ended up sleeping in a ditch.”

“That only happened once!”

“It shouldn’t have happened at all.” She glanced at the Waynes and gave them a very flat look which clearly said, ‘See what I have to deal with?’

“We’ll make sure he gets home,” Dick assured her while some of the others tried to stifle laughter.

While Sam’s slightly raised eyebrow clearly stated she didn’t exactly believe him, she didn’t press the issue. Instead, she said her goodbyes before heading off.

Glancing at the Waynes, Danny rubbed the back of his neck as he apologized for his friends. “They’re super protective of me. I didn’t tell them who you are, if you’re worried about that,” he added quickly. “But they know you know about me and that I trust you with that knowledge.”

“Don’t let B hear you say things like that,” Tim warned him. “I don’t think you want to hear the secret identity lecture, but we are going to have to help you take better precautions. We had you figured out within in a few hours of meeting you.”

He sputtered as the others laughed. “You guys are smarter than like the entirety of Amity Park combined!”

“No, we’re just good at our jobs.”

….

The Waynes decided to take Sam’s suggestion and check out the new Thai place. They seemed to be pleasantly surprised at how large the menu was and quickly picked what they wanted. Danny wasn’t as familiar with some of the ingredients, but Damian surprised him by explaining what they were.

Once all the orders were in, Danny found himself having a nice chat with Duke as they waited. With Duke being the newest member of the family, he was still getting used all the quirks of living with the others. He entertained Danny with some of the things in the manor that seemed so normal to the others but baffled him. It was surprisingly nice to hear.

When the food was ready, they made their way back to the hotel. Things were pretty chill between the siblings until they started discussing if they should openly take action against Vlad in the business world. While they agreed that it would be wise to slowly start cutting off the man’s wealth, they didn’t agree on whether or not to take action before or after the police investigation.

When he asked what they meant, Danny had the displeasure to find out that Vlad had been brutally killing people, and that the Waynes had tipped off the police. They had gotten word that the police had begun mobilizing to get the needed documentation to begin looking. It helped that Superman had given them confirmation that there were bodies and where they were.

He must have made some sort of look (because who just causally mentions they know Superman in a conversation?), because the others laughed at him before continuing the conversation. But things went from pleasant to tense as the assassins got mentioned and a fight sprung up between Tim and Damian.

“Normal,” Cass told him when he attempted to speak up.

“Yeah, from what I’ve learned, as long as they’re not openly trying to kill each other, it’s mostly fine,” Duke added.

“Mostly?” He wasn’t given any further explanation. What was with this family? Even Jason openly mentioned he had tried to kill the others, and it was just treated like nothing was wrong with it. Was it a superhero thing? He really hoped it wasn’t a superhero thing.

Damian and Tim were still fighting when they reached the hotel room. “Do I even want to know?” Jason questioned when he watched them tumble into the room. He wasn’t even phased by the sight of it.

“It’s just the usual,” Dick’s tired voice immediately lightened as he gestured to Danny. “Look who we ran into! Hope it’s okay we invited him.”

Danny watched as Bruce Wayne gave Jason a fatherly smile before welcoming him inside and grabbing the food off of him so it could be moved to the kitchen area of the suite. He wasn’t going to lie. It was kind of unnerving to see Batman act like a regular person. Duke and Cass took the other food from them and joined Bruce in the kitchen as Dick attempted to half-heartedly stop the fight.

He glanced at Jason, who didn’t seem to be bothered by the scene. “Shouldn’t we stop them?”

“Why? Means more food for us.”

“You better not touch my dinner, Todd,” Damian announced as he lost interest in Tim and hurried to the table where the others were starting to take everything out of the bags and set the table. Tim made a face before he and Dick followed.

When Danny sent Jason a questioning look, he just winked. Whatever magic tactic he just watched, he needed to learn to help stop Sam and Tucker’s fights.

Still feeling a little uncomfortable being so around so many heroes, he took a seat next to Jason. Even before Jason’s transformation, Danny had found himself relatively comfortable in his presence. Sure, there had been some unease when he first felt the strange ectoplasm in his body, but he guessed the feeling of finding someone who understood overwrote it.

The others seemed to sense he was uneasy as they started sharing stories of their early days and some of their fumbles on the field. Danny found himself fascinated. These were trained heroes, but they were openly admitting that they weren’t perfect and made mistakes too. It made him hopeful that things were going to get better.

“So, Jason, you never did explain how you broke your friend out of prison.” Duke crossed his arms as he waited for an answer.

Curious, Danny looked between him and Jason, who didn’t seem to want to explain. That was something Danny noticed during the stories. Jason hadn’t been as willing to provide details as the others, especially if it was something that happened after he stopped being Robin.

“Dressed as a priest, infiltrated the prison, and broke Arsenal out.” He tried taking another bite of his food only to have his fork slip through his fingers. “Dammit.”

“Oh no, you’re not getting away with not giving us details this time.” Dick poked Jason in the side a few times. “Spill.”

If you asked Danny, Jason’s sigh seemed staged as he began his story. Unlike his other stories, he was more animated as he explained how he broke in and gave Arsenal, who Danny had gathered was an archer, his bow right before he was due to be executed. Jason had revealed himself at that time, and the two escaped exchanging fire with the others in the jail.

The others didn’t seem to be familiar with the story either. Duke and Dick seemed openly concerned with the close calls. Damian oddly seemed bored but would nod his head on occasion as if he approved of some of the kills Jason reported. Tim argued with him a few times about why he decided to do certain things.

“Will you shut up and let me talk, Timbo?” Jason eventually snapped at him. “Not all of us like planning every single move out. Besides, I like having room to improvise. Makes life more exciting.”

“But you could have avoided half of what happened!”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

Bruce sighed and rubbed his forehead. He’d been oddly quite during Jason’s story, but he did frown several times. Danny knew he had a no kill policy, so he figured that was at least part of it. “Tim, let him finish. You can talk about what could have been done differently later.”

“We have a guest,” Cass reminded with a slight nod even if she’d frowned at Jason a few times as well.

“Now that that’s settled, where was I? Right, we were trying to get away.”

Once Jason finished, Danny debated a moment before deciding to share a story of his own. “Um… So, I might have kinda caused a prison riot and breakout in the Ghost Zone once.” As he told the story of how he first met Walker and got on his bad side, the heroes around him listened in awe. It felt great to be able to openly talk about it.

Once he finished, a few questions got asked. He had to remind himself that there was a lot about the Zone and ghosts that the Bats didn’t know yet. Once they were satisfied, Tim asked if he was willing to share another story. With a smile, he told the story of his first encounter with Vlad.

…

After dinner, Danny was shocked to learn that the Waynes were going to be returning to Gotham the next day. He figured that they’d stay at least a few days to let Jason adjust before getting him on a plane. He wasn’t going to admit that he wanted them, especially Jason, to stick around for a little longer.

But he understood. They had a duty to their home in Gotham, and from the reports he’d heard, crime was so common that them being away from the city for too long could be disastrous. It was somewhat like Amity Park in that regard.

When they were cleaning up dinner, Danny barely caught Bruce give Jason a look. After a quick nod, Jason pulled him into the living room area of the suite. He seemed almost uncomfortable which struck Danny as strange. What could make someone who has faced the villains of Gotham and death nervous?

Turns out, the answer was having a heart-to-heart chat. Who knew the Red Hood had trouble with stuff like that?

“Bruce and I were talking while you guys were getting food.” He glanced towards the kitchen to scowl at his siblings. Judging by how they moved out of sight, they must have been listening. “He’s offered to set up a Zeta Tube, something that allows near instantaneous travel, between here and Gotham. If you’d like to, we can provide training and gear and even help with medical needs. I think Bruce might want scans for a baseline first though. He’s also offered to provide a safe house if something happens, and you need to hide out for a while.”

Danny’s thoughts stopped for a moment as he registered what Jason was trying to tell him. Batman, THE Batman, was offering to help him, but if that was the case, why was Jason telling him about it?

Maybe it was because it was too good to be true. With the exception of his friends and sister, no human had ever offered to help him to that extent before. Sure, the people of Amity occasionally did little things, but nothing to that extent. And there were still large groups of people in Amity who thought he was just a mindless monster. But Jason wasn’t exactly human, and he trusted Batman…

There was the also an unsaid part of the offer. Danny would be able to help Jason adjust. While he wasn’t certain if Jason felt the same sort of loneliness he did, he’d at least be able to keep in regular contact with someone who was like him. He wouldn’t be alone anymore.

“You don’t have to agree if you don’t want to,” Jason quickly when he didn’t reply. “I know you have issues with Plasmius, and with Bruce being a billionaire too, it’s probably weird…”

“It is kinda weird, I’m not going to lie about that,” he admitted, “but I think I’d like that.”

Danny didn’t miss the slight smile that momentarily appeared on Jason’s face as he quickly wrote down a phone number before handing it to him. “Look, I might not be able to answer immediately, but if you need me… I’ll do my best to respond.”

After taking it from him, he stared at the number momentarily before giving Jason a hug. There was something about the gesture that seemed to be more personal to Jason then it would be to the average person, and Danny wanted him to know just how much he appreciated it.

He felt Jason stiffen at his touch, but he quickly relaxed. It didn’t last long as his siblings silently started teasing him. Somewhat embarrassed by their response, he pulled away and let Jason deal with them.

A text from his sister reminded him of what time it was, and he explained he had to head back home, which rather hilariously interrupted the rough housing that started. He really wished he would have taken a picture of how they stopped – Dick had been trying to stay out of the grip of Jason and Cass. Damian had climbed on Jason’s shoulders in some attempt to stop him. Tim had been cheering from the couch while Duke was trying to stay out of it. Bruce just looked tired.

After a round of goodbyes, Jason surprised him by ruffling his hair. “Stay safe, Glowstick. We’ll be in touch.”

As he left, Danny could feel his core thrumming. He recognized the sensation as the same one he sometimes got when he spent time with his friends when ghosts weren’t involved or when he visited Pandora. Sure, he was still learning some of the weird things about being a ghost, but he at least knew it was something positive.

Glancing up at the stars which were just starting to appear, he reminded himself he needed to send Jason some links in the morning.

#Danny Phantom #dp #dp x dc #danny phantom crossover #To Join the Whispers #danny fenton

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

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You and Me Forevermore

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Wife Reader (She/Her)

Summary: Weddings are the promise of you and me forevermore. Spencer and you share a special dance.

CW: Weddings, Mild Sexual Innuendo

Word Count: 2,790

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You and Me Forevermore

Spencer never imagined himself enjoying a wedding, let alone having one himself. Yet, he’s here holding her hand, spinning in the spotlight. His shoes pinch his toes and he’s sweating in his suit. The music is too loud and he’s drunk on something stronger than the champagne and cocktails from the bar. He can feel her smile against his chest as her hands wrap around his waist, squeezing tightly as they spin around and around.

He’s lived his life in the shadows, accepted the quiet mundane, made peace with the simplicity turning into complicity in his self induced loneliness. And that seems like a lifetime ago. He gave up microwave meals that were still frozen in the middle and sleepless nights when the only companionship is the flickering television for shiny black shoes that pinch his toes and a lover with a habit of kissing his forehead.

The song ends, and while he hates to admit it, Spencer doesn’t remember a single second of the song at all. It’s twisted that he, who can never not forget something, has forgotten one of the most important moments of his life. He thinks, despite his recent luck, that the universe likes to keep him on his toes. He can’t get too comfortable in this life, because in a second the rug can be tugged up from his feet and then he’s on his hands and knees, searching for what was lost.

She squeezes his hand three times, as if she could read the thoughts that floated in his mind. Looking down at her, Spencer knows that it’s futile to try to hide his smile. His face is going to hurt later from smiling so much today.

“Spence,” she whispers, her voice tickling his neck, “see you didn’t fall on your ass,” she jokes, referencing all of his whining about their first dance. He swore that he’s too clumsy to dance, but his will was immediately overruled by Y/N’s powerful glare. Rossi warned him to not turn into the kind of guy that jumps when his wife says jump, but Spencer kindly reminded him that he’s pretty sure he’ll only have one wife, not five in his lifetime.

“Well, even if I did, no one would notice,” he says, “because you’re too stunning for anyone to even glance at me,” he tells her, speaking against her temple as he talks quietly. The photographer’s flash interrupts their thoughts as it captures their private smiles. Spencer’s arm pulls Y/N close, tired of being apart. It’s such a public event, despite the small crowd. And all his life Spencer has craved the quiet, domestic life familiar to smiles only meant for a single soul.

“How much longer,” he says, not even caring if others hear, “I want to get you alone,” he mutters into her ear, saying things for only her to hear.

“Spencer Reid!” Y/N fake gasps, clearly enjoying a playful side of him, “who knew all it took was marrying you to get you to get all horny,” she teases, playing with his tie as their friends mill about on the dancefloor.

“Well, Mrs. Reid, I like to think I like to play the long game,” he answers, grinning through his teeth, proud of his ability to flirt, even though it is with his wife, “you know, if we sneak away now, no one will even know,”

“You’re way too much, Spencer,” she whispers, her cheek rubbing against his shoulder, “but as much as a would love to, we are at a party full of feds, I feel like they’d realize in about three seconds,”

“Yeah, but,” Spencer sighs annoyed, “but I just don’t want to wait,” he complains, tossing his arm around Y/N’s and guiding them to their sweetheart table, “maybe that’s why Garcia is forcing us to sit here,” he says, gesturing to the small table in the center of the garden. He smiles before pulling her chair out and sitting down himself. The rest of their small wedding party finds their way to their chairs, getting ready for the toast.

Derek, Spencer’s best man, stands up, already commanding the audience with a flash of his white teeth and expressive eyebrows.

“Now, folks, I really never thought this day would come,” he starts, gesturing towards Spencer, “that skinny little kid came here to the FBI with three fucking PhDs. Who in their right mind gets three PhDs?” Derek asks, unsure, after all these years how Spencer achieved so much academically at such a young age.

“To say the least, I was impressed. Spencer’s so smart, but god is he dumb,” Derek says, laughing with the rest of the BAU because they know where the story is headed, “he comes in one day, talking about this new girl across the hall in his apartment. She made him dinner one night, which turned into an everyday thing. All he can talk about is how he’s never seen someone as beautiful as her. She laughs at all of his jokes, even though he knew no one understands them,” Derek says, looking at the both of them now, “You know, Spencer talked so much about Y/N that I was convinced that she wasn’t real. I mean, there’s no way that there’s someone that’s so perfect, so incredibly perfect for someone,” he says, looking directly at Savannah as he talks.

“But then, I was proven wrong. I met Y/N, and Spencer, Y/N,” he says, “there isn’t a doubt in my mind that you two aren’t made for each other. She’ll put up with his shitty chemistry jokes and Spencer pretends to not know when she steals his cardigans. And probably the only time in our careers, I was okay with being proven wrong by my little brother,” Derek says, finishing the toast as he holds his glass up to Spencer and Y/N, “I love you two very much, never enough to even come close to how you love each other,”

Y/N squeezes Spencer’s hand, silently saying “I love you,” as Derek sits down and the chatter returns to the small party. But suddenly, she drops his hand, just as he’s ready to lean over and kiss her cheek, in a sign to say “I love you,” back.

“Well, I know it’s not traditional or whatever,” Y/N says, standing up and walking to grab the microphone from Derek, “but Spencer and I never really gave two shits for tradition. It’s probably the BAU’s worst kept secret that Spencer and I eloped the weekend we got engaged. And I’ll be the first to confess, that was all my doing,” she says, walking back to her table where Spencer’s eyes never leave hers.

“You know, Spence, it’s because I couldn’t spend another second not being your wife. You’ve given me more chances of happiness than I could ever imagine. Spence, there’s no one I’d rather be spending the rest of my life with. And I know that it’s not gonna be enough, but I have enough faith in you to know that somewhere in this universe we will be together forever,” she says, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

Spencer’s eyes are bright and twinkle. He’s drunk enough to goofily blow kisses to Y/N as she makes her way back to their table. When she does sit down, he forgets that they have an audience. Leaning over, he kisses her like it’s their first kiss. Gone are their friends and family. Gone is the beautifully decorated garden with golden fairy lights and sage green tablecloths. It’s all gone and all that remains is themselves.

Which is just the way they want it.

***

The rest of the wedding passes by in a blur. Shots with JJ and Morgan at the bar. Silly drunk dances on the makeshift dance floor wear Spencer nearly tears Y/N’s dress and makes an uncharacteristic joke about doing that too early. Lots of kisses and stolen touches, but it’s not enough and they have to wait.

But it gives Spencer time to think about weddings and as they walk to their hotel room, only two thoughts run through his mind: getting his wife out of her wedding dress and how the tradition for wedding cake dates back to Ancient Rome. Y/N has her heels hanging from two fingers and her other hand grips Spencer’s. She squeezes his hand three times in the elevator, smiling at him with tired eyes.

“I’m glad that I never have to do that again,” Y/N says, tossing her heels on the floor and flopping belly first onto their king size bed. Spencer, exhausted too, sinks down into the soft bed next to her, “I meant that in a way that I’m not planning on getting married ever again because I’m with my soulmate, not in like it wasn’t a good wedding,” she says quickly, a sign that she’s drunk.

“You’re drunk,” Spencer says, spreading his arms out and resting his head against the pillows.

“I’m not drunk,” Y/N says not too confidently, “you’re drunk,” she counters, giggling as she starts to play with Spencer’s hair, “Get me out of this dress,” she says, sitting up in the bed.

“Y/N, we’re too drunk,” Spencer says, sounding disappointed, “if we do, something,” he says, blushing at the word something, despite talking to his wife, “I’ll probably break a hip or something and Derek will have to dress me before the rescue squad can get me. And you know Penelope would never let us live it down,” he says.

“Pft, old man,” she teases, “my old man,” she says kissing his cheek, “but, this dress is so itchy and all I want to do is put on my pajamas and have you hold me,”

“That sounds like a request I can fulfill,” Spencer jokes, undoing her zipping leaving a trail of kissing down her spine, “sorry, I can’t help myself,” he says, meeting her eyes in the mirror. She holds his stare, but after more than a second of gazing into the reflection of her eyes, Spencer cracks. A carefree smile, brought on drinks and the promise of forever, is etched on his face. He drops his head into the crook of Y/N’s neck, breathing in more than kissing.

“Spence,” she says, clearly growing more and more tired, “come on, husband,” she says, teasingly as she slips her arms out of her dress and stands up to shimmy out of the skirt, “oh now you listen,” she says with a huff, unlatching the complex and uncomfortable undergarments her dress required.

“You said the magic word,” Spencer says, laying on his belly and watching her pick out an oversized tee shirt and old pajama pants to sleep in. She gives him a quizzical look, not understanding what the magic word actually is.

“Husband,” Spencer replies, like it’s obvious. Which it is, he’ll probably remind her for forever and ever that it isn’t his PhDs that are his greatest accomplishment, or working for the FBI, or even being a professor like his mother once was, but being her’s. If anything in this life truly matters it’s not working or diplomas or school, it’s love. No matter how cheesy he sounds, Spencer knows he has the poets on his side.

“You’re a dork,” Y/N says, leaning down and kissing his face, “now it’s your turn to get out of all this,” she orders, tugging on his tie and making Spencer grin.

“Too drunk, too tired,” Y/N answers, reading the glint in Spencer’s eyes and the charm in his smile.

He hold his hands up, in an attempt to prove innocence, “I wasn’t suggesting anything, if anything, I agree,” he says, sitting up on the edge of the bed, “I need help getting out of this pants, and I promise it’s not a ruse or whatever,” he says, sounding more and more tired by the minute.

“A dork,” she says, shaking her head as she undoes Spencer’s tie, takes off his jacket and starts to unbutton his shirt, “my dork,” she says again, kissing his cheeks. They’re perpetually bright red from a combination of alcohol and affection. It’s a good look on him: happiness and all Y/N wants to do is make it last.

Spencer closes his eyes, resting his mind for just a moment as Y/N’s fingers work quickly to undo the buttons on his shirt. His tie is on the floor, long forgotten, sharing a home with his suit jacket and Y/N’s dress. Soon they’ll find a new home in a box, tucked carefully away, for children to find while exploring in the attic. One day, Spencer will be able to relive this day when he tells the story to their children.

“You know,” Spencer says, looking down at Y/N as she tries to get his shoes off his feet, “at least we’re not getting married during the Regency Era. I think I’m too drunk to remember the names of the clothes, but you’d have a lot more dress and I’d have to wear those funny little pants,”

“Mmh, I missed a Spencer fact today,” Y/N says, taking off his socks and help him stand up to take off his pants, “and I think I agree, those dresses would be a pain to take off, but I do think your butt would look good in them,” she says with a wink, pull his pants down to his ankles.

“Y/N!” Spencer says, feigning horror as he flops down on the bed, clutching his chest, “your husband might hear,” he says with a wink.

“Well it’s true and I don’t lie,” Y/N says, “my husband has a cute butt, my husband has a cute butt,” Y/N says again and again, enjoying Spencer’s giggles of delight and fake protests.

“Please, Y/N,” he says, kissing her forehead and walking over to their suitcase with their pajamas, “you stole my shirt,” he whines.

“Don’t pretend you don’t love it,” Y/N says, patting the spot on the bed next to her, “come on, honey, we’re both wiped,” she says, wanting nothing more but to fall asleep with the memories of today still floating in her mind as Spencer’s arms wrap around her body promising her more of them to come.

“You know how you can make it up to me?” Spencer asks, holding out his hand for Y/N to grab, “come over here, I want to show you something,” he requests.

“Spence,” Y/N whines, so tired from the day that she can’t possibly think of what Spencer has to show her, “fine,” she says, “you know one day you’ll be so old and wrinkle that the puppy dog eyes won’t work on me,”

“Yeah, but this will” Spencer says, grabbing her hands in her and spinning her around the room before kissing her deeply. He kissed her shyly at the ceremony, perhaps still not believing that everything was real. He kissed her like it was their first kiss at the reception. And a dozen or more times in between when no one was looking. Those kisses, filling in the space, were quick and sweet. But this kiss, standing in their hotel room, Spencer without a shirt and Y/N in his, was probably his favorite kiss. He kisses her lips and tastes the promise of forever. It’s sweet and simple and he can smell her shampoo. His hands search her body, not hungry or eager, but searching for home.

“Did you seriously just want to kiss me?,” Y/N asks, a smile playing on her thoroughly kissed lips, Spencer’s eyes flicker down to them, dazed by the sight and still not believing that their puffiness his his doing.

“No,” Spencer says, holding out his hands for Y/N to grab, “I wanted to dance,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “just the two of us, just like we wanted, but this time instead of it being in the parking lot of the courthouse, we get a fancy hotel,” he says.

“You had this planned the whole time didn’t you,” she says, squeezing his hand three times, saying, silently, “I love you,” as they start to spin around and around in the beautiful hotel room.

“Maybe” Spencer says, squeezing her hand back.

Neither of them would be considered good dancers, which they suppose is a good thing. They don’t overshine another in the moment, but move around in the silence as one. Spencer’s mind, flooded with fractions and counting his steps, freezes as Y/N’s head rests against his chest. He doesn’t need math to know how to hold his wife. The steps don’t matter when there’s no music. They dance in the silence, clinging on to each other as their minds cling on to this moment. On her tip toes, she presses her lips to the his forehead. Forehead kisses are a lot like sealing an envelope. They are quiet and sweet, easy to accept when swaying to soundless music.

He commits this moment to memory. Soaking in the feeling of her palms against his back and her lips against his forehead. Whether it's beautiful wedding suites or court house parking lots, it doesn't matter in the end. Because alls well to end well if Spencer ends up with Y/N.

-Taglist-

@pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @fandomfriend33 @just-another-persona123 @folkreid @muffin-cup @reidslibrarybook @jswessie187 @fbivestreid @emilyprentisswif3 @doctorspenceryeet @alexrosex99 @alexlovescriminalminds @maesdonovan @cncos-baby @reidslovely @shemarmooresfedora @strawberryspence @drayshadow @navs-bhat @mimischaos @nomajdetective

#boldlyreblog #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluf #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader happy endings #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic

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coalitiongirl · 3 years

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Fic Recs (under 300 edition)

So I wanted to get back to reading Swan Queen fic regularly, and I asked people to rec longfic that they'd read (not written) and loved that had fewer than 300 kudos! I haven’t read most of these, but I’ve collected them here so y’all can go through the list and discover some new fics with me! Please try to kudos and review every fic that you read! It means the world to the writers and will keep em writing, and then we all win. 😁

Atonement by SgtMac (M): With Regina's magical heart failing thanks to years of previous evil, Emma and Regina and Henry (and Granny!) set out to save her life by traveling to the Enchanted Forest and requesting help from ancient magical beings known as the Guardians. Given a mission as simple as it is impossible - to achieve atonement by creating peace - the ladies find themselves joining a rebellion and fighting for the very soul of the Enchanted Forest all while trying to help Regina to understand that the self-loathing and guilt which have driven most of her actions don't have to doom her chance for a new beginning or even, a chance to live and love again. A S4(ish) SQ love story set against the turmoil of war and the chaotic savagery of the old world.

Blood and Sand by cheshire6845 (E): A/U The Savior is a slave forced into the role of fighting as a gladiator for the House of Hearts. The odds are against her survival as she will have to win in the arena, navigate Cora's schemes, outlast a general's vengeance, and not be killed out of spite by the current House of Hearts Champion - Regina the Undefeated. This story follows the major plot points of Starz Spartacus with some twists along the way.

But what if there was no time by KizuRai (M): When she wakes up, it's dark. She can't move, she can't see, she can't feel and she can't hear. Where am I? She feels a forceful oppression, pressing her down, draining her of her energy and she's powerless to stop it. How did I get here? The question of here is relative, she's not even sure where here is. What happened? There must be some reason for being stuck here but her memory is fuzzy, like all her thoughts are being sifted through a filter. Who am I? She's not sure if she actually exists or she suddenly became sentient in the darkness.She hears a voice reverberating in the distance, it's distorted and quiet but she hears it all the same. It breaks the monotony of the silence. Someone's coming for her, they will get her out. She's just not sure she wants them to as the price might be too great.

Finding Home by evl_rgl (T): “I wanted to remember you so badly that I pulled back your cursed town just so that the memories would make sense. I needed you so badly that even when I had no memory of you, I still tried to find you.” Regina gave Emma and Henry memories of a happy life together before they fled Pan’s curse, leaving them with no memories of their lives in Storybrooke. However, when the memory spell shows signs of failing, threatening to rip apart the minds of both Emma and Henry, Regina makes a drastic choice to go back and fix it, understanding that it will mean living alone in a world where her son doesn’t know her. Was the spell really faulty, though? (swanqueen)

Five Flames by MariaComet (U): In the past, Emma Nolan disconnected from her peers in high school, preferring to keep to herself. In her sophomore year of high school, she decided to try and join the boy’s wrestling team because she was bored. She didn’t expect herself to become the champion of the most bullied kid in school or the secret best friend of the school queen. She also didn’t expect to join a club that would change her life. In the present, Emma is trying to cope with a humiliating loss in her martial arts career. She claims to be “training” but is stuck in limbo between wanting to retire and try again. She is isolated from her former best friend, Regina Mills, a local celebrity chef and the rest of her old friends. When one of them calls her with an idea to honor their deceased teacher, she is confronted with unresolved feelings and questions about how powerful love truly is.

A Glamour of Truth by PrincessCharming (T): After 2x10, Regina uses magic to show Emma the obvious truth. A tentative trust forms between them amid hilarious bickering. With Emma's help, Regina struggles to regain a place in her son's life... until Cora arrives, wanting her daughter back. Pieces of Regina's past emerge showing that the board was set long before the game started. The final battle begins soon.

His Dark Materials 'verse by MoonlitMidnight (M): A modern Alternate Universe in which Dæmons (the external physical manifestation of a person's 'inner self' that takes the form of an animal) are present. In which Emma and Regina have led slightly different lives and they make slightly different choices.

How Many Miles to Avalon? (WIP) by RavenOutlander (E): Regina would do anything to save Emma from the darkness and bring her back home safe and sound. Even put up with the two idiots, Captain Guyliner and a bunch of dwarves she decidedly wanted to drop off at the nearest exit. But in their search for Emma, they find that she might not need that much saving after all. Caught up in a search for the infamous Philosopher Stone, an all out war between DunBroch and Camelot, and ghosts from the past to haunt her every waking moment, Regina finds herself scrambling to keep her and her family's happy endings from falling apart.

The Hyperion by FrankenSpine (M): After wishing upon what she believes is a shooting star, Emma Swan finds herself aboard the Hyperion, the royal starship of an alien Queen from a faraway galaxy. She quickly learns of the tensions between the Queen's people and her own, but the Queen takes an interest in her and agrees to take her away from Earth forever. Adventure awaits. *(Loosely based on Guardians of the Galaxy with just a hint of Farscape)*

If Wishes Came True (It Would've Been You) by Angeii_K (M): After Regina films a guest appearance on her friend Neal’s popular show, he invites her to spend the weekend with him and his girlfriend. What she never expected was to actually like the woman. Sparks fly between the two, which results in them questioning everything and making choices they will later regret. 4 years later, they meet again in the most unexpected of ways. Now co-stars on the same show, they are forced to work through the emotions from their last encounter. What will happen next? Only time will tell.

The King Doesn’t Have To Know (WIP) by highheelsandchocolate (M): The White Knight had never seen anyone like her before: the Queen was nothing short of mesmerizing. Her possessive yet neglectful husband, however, was another thing entirely.

The Lich by Dangereaux (M): Gay disaster Emma, exasperated Regina, and a monster. A Halloween special.

Maybe if We Close Our Eyes we Can Reach the Stars by wellthizizdeprezzing (T): Emma is a lonely astronaut. Regina is an adventuring alien. Their paths cross leading them onto a journey of new discovery. Between galaxies and many miles of cold black space, despite not speaking the same language, they manage to fall for each other. An out of this world love story.

A prisoner long forgotten by sugarsweet_19 (M): ‘I wish I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood and as black as the wood of the window-frame. Soon after she had a little girl, who was as white as snow, with lips as red as blood and with her hair as black as the ebony of the window-frame. She was therefore called Snow-white.” This is how our story starts but how will it end?The evil queen as been locked up in a tower and forgotten that is until princess Emma looks for a place to hid from her parents after they tell her she has to marry Neal the son of the dark one.

Revenge of the Three Little Pigs by mskyo (M): Regina and Emma find themselves alone and looking for the rest of their party. The Evil Queen must face the consequences of her past actions. Will Emma come to her aid, or understand that justice must be served... *Some chapters have fairly graphic sex, and violence*

Things I Almost Remember by cheshire6845 (T): A/U Despite an oncoming war between the Dark and the Light, Emma and Regina are best friends growing up in the Enchanted Forest. When war does come, they find themselves on opposite sides. Regina will have to defy her mother to save Emma. Will Emma be able to save Regina when Cora curses her daughter to live in the Land without Magic?

What We Make (WIP) by DiazTuna (M): “My mother.” He says calmly. He’d known all along, she’s aware. But he’d known that today would be the day that would get this going. She wants to ask what it was like, to have woken up this morning, laced up his boots and walked into hell just knowing. “It’s programmed the cyborg to kill her. Before I have a chance to be born.” -In which the leader of the future sends his best soldier back to the past to save his mother from a killer cyborg. Terminator AU.

The Wrong Way by pcworth (M): Takes place right after Zelena steals Regina's heart. Zelena offers Regina a chance to go back in time with her and change both of their lives for the better. But what will be the price of that decision. Slow-burn to SwanQueen

zombie trash by 13pens (T): Zelena could have her brain and eat it, too. Fic operates on three premises 1. this takes place in any universe where zelena is a reformed asshole 2. zombies are a thing and exist iZombie style 3. i have NO chill

#swan queen #fic rec #ouat

188 notes · View notes

quaranmine · 3 years

Text

New World, New Faces

When the hermits moved to their new world, they were excited to welcome two new members. But maybe one is an old friend instead . . .

Grian hasn't seen Pearl since Evo. It's a shock.

No romantic relationships or content warnings. Mainly emotional hurt/comfort, but probably more emphasis on comfort. Hermits: Grian, Pearl, and Mumbo primarily with a little bit of Scar and Xisuma as well. Reblogs appreciated and AO3 link in reblog!

Words: 3893

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

These days, Grian was pleased to say that the Watcher’s didn’t occupy his mind nearly as often as they used to. Except on certain late nights where he lay in bed and thought of before, his time was mostly spent having fun--scheming, pranking, building, planning, mining, laughing with friends. It wasn’t something he could forget, but the hermits had become his new home, and as years passed the edges of those memories had dulled a bit.

The other times where the Watchers occupied his mind were update days. Since joining hermitcraft, Grian had gone through several updates with the rest of the server. Sometimes they moved to a new world, and sometimes they stayed in their old one. No portals of bedrock ever appeared, but Grian always thought of them just the same. It always felt like maybe, just maybe, one day he’d turn around and see their signature portals once again.

Watchers didn’t always leave portals to update worlds. Grian hadn’t known that until he’d been put to work as a Watcher himself. Oh, the Watchers were still in charge of updating worlds, but they often did it more subtly, without grand towers and quests for portals. It’s hard to retain status as a myth when everyone knows your calling card, afterall. Admins always knew when it was time to update. Grian hadn't, back on Evo, because he’s always been told.

It turned out Evo had been different, and Grian didn’t know how to feel about that. Evo wasn’t the only world to receive special attention from the Watchers, but it was one of their favorites. Why them, though? Why did the Watchers keep such a close eye on their world in particular? Why were they left towers and clues and prizes and punishments, when other servers were mostly left alone?

Why did they kill everyone and kidnap Grian?

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

Grian stood in a group with the other hermits, eagerly waiting for the move to the new world. He bounced a little in anticipation. He was excited for the new update--he knew very little about its contents, but it seemed like there would be some new building blocks to play with, according to Xisuma.

He already had plans for the new world--new bases and new shenanigans. Grian was excited to build close to his friends. Xisuma had informed them that another update would come in a few months, and for the hermits to stick close in the time being so that new land would be freed up for the coming update. Grian had already known about the second update for a while, as all Watchers do, but he let Xisuma handle all of this as admin. Those days were behind him, now, and there was no reason to start exercising Watcher powers in a world that was carrying on just fine on its own.

“Is everyone ready?” Xisuma shouted over the chatter, trying to do a headcount. “Hey!” he shouted, trying to get everyone’s attention. Slowly, the chatter quieted.

“Looks like it,” said Iskall.

“Good,” Xisuma said. “Now, before we go, I wanted to remind you that we have two new people joining us this time. I’ve already made arrangements with them prior so they’re gonna be waitin’ for us when we go through.” He grinned. “Be on your best behavior for me, alright?”

“I’m always on my best behavior,” Keralis replied, and Xisuma rolled his eyes fondly.

Grian smiled, remembering his welcome to hermitcraft a few years ago. Unlike this time, nobody had been expecting him. Grian hadn’t been invited like these two new hermits had been, he had just been there when the hermits arrived on their new world. None of the other hermits knew quite why he was there, but they’d all accepted him graciously nonetheless.

Grian liked that memory. The truth is, he’d fled the Watchers and picked an uninhabited world at random, not realizing it had already been reserved by Xisuma. That was a failure on his part as a Watcher, because he was supposed to know about stuff like that. But he had been too busy running to worry about it and besides, there was nobody on hermitcraft to punish him.

The hermits had welcomed him with kindness and made him part of their family. Now he’d gladly do the same for these new soon-to-be hermits.

“Okay . . .” Xisuma said, typing something into his admin panel. “I’m just setting up the portal now.”

They were all gathered in the shopping district, right in front of the Town Hall. Grian took his chance to take one last glance around at the world. The diamonds in the trees glittered in the morning light, sending little reflective shards of light scattered on the ground. Moving worlds was always bittersweet, because it meant parting with the things he’d worked hard on and the places he’d made memories at. But it was also one of his favorite things to do, because it gave everyone a blank slate to work with, sparking endless new creativity.

“I wish I could take some of those with me,” chuckled Scar, as he walked up next to where Grian was standing. He pointed at the diamonds.

“Well of course you want them, Mr Mayor!”

“Uh-uh,” Scar said. “I’m not the Mayor anymore! This is a new world.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to see what we get up to in the next one, huh?” Grian asked. “Do you have any plans?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Scar teased.

“I guess I will.”

“Do you have any plans?”

“I don’t know,” said Grian. He thought for a moment. “I might make a cave base. I guess I’m waiting to see what’s out there for inspiration before I start.”

“Well, I look forward to seeing it,” Scar replied. “Oh! It looks like Xisuma is ready.”

Grian looked up, to see X opening a portal. It wasn’t a nether portal, nor was it like an End portal. It wasn’t a Watcher portal either, but an Admin one. Grian had come to realize that Watchers supplied Admins with the means to move into updates on their own when they wanted to. The bedrock portals and scavenger hunts were reserved for their favorite worlds--their toys.

Sometimes the Watchers liked to flex their powers, but the universe is not kept running smoothly if all your time is spent flexing. Grian brushed away the thought, choosing to focus on his friends in front of him instead.

One by one, the hermits stepped through the portal, which swirled light blue and hovered just slightly off the ground. Grian hung back, wanting to be one of the last ones through. He wanted to make sure everyone made it through alright, but Xisuma had to be the very last person, since he needed to close the portal. When it was finally his turn, he gave Xisuma a smile and walked forward.

Grian stepped through, into the bright sunlight of a village, and was surrounded by the voices of his friends.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

Spawn was a village in a grassland, next to a swamp and overlooking the ocean. It looked a little plain, but the hermits hadn’t left their mark on the world yet. Behind Grian, Xisuma stepped out into the new world and the portal vanished behind him.

Everybody was crowded around a ditch chattering, apparently exchanging greetings with the two new hermits that stood inside it. Grian held back for a moment, taking it in and basking in the sounds of his friends’ voices. Finally, he wasn’t the new one anymore--a few people had rejoined the server in the last world, but they’d all been old friends, not new ones. That had left him being the most recent addition, not that anything felt like it was recent anymore.

Grian was already thinking of ways to prank the new hermits and draw them into the life of the server.

“Alright Mumbo!” Xisuma said. Grian grinned. Mumbo was supposed to introduce them. Mumbo, of course, didn’t know this, because where’s the fun in that?

“Oh-oh me?”

“It’s go time!” Cleo said.

“This is it!” said Xisuma.

“I’ve clearly very obviously been put up to this,” Mumbo started. “And because everyone thought it’d be much funnier to have me bumble through it without really knowing what I’m talking about, and that is definitely going to be the case!”

The hermits chuckled. Grian walked around the back of the group to try to catch a glimpse of the new people below.

“We do have two new hermits,” Mumbo said, “down in this crevice.”

Grian caught a glimpse of red and brown hair.

“GeminiTay-”

Grian’s world stopped and he felt his breath catch in his throat. She had her back to him, but he’d recognize her anywhere. Her brown hair spilled out from behind a black hoodie.

But she’s dead.

Was this some sort of cruel trick from the universe?

“-and PearlescentMoon.” The rest of the hermits cheered at the announcement, giving the new members a warm welcome. Grian said nothing, his mind spinning a mile a minute.

There was no way it was actually her. The Watchers . . . the Watchers had killed her, and every other Evolutionist. Grian didn’t know why. He would never know why, because with the Watchers it was always “you can’t possibly understand.”And Grian couldn’t. When Grian had finally escaped them, he tried to go back to Evo. It was a foolish attempt, one that would certainly have endangered the lives of anyone there, but nobody had been left there and the buildings were all destroyed and overgrown with vines and Grian had been forced to conclude the heavy truth that all of his old friends were gone.

He didn’t remember what he did after that. He just ran.

Before he could stop himself, the words came tumbling out of his mouth. “Pearl? Is that really you?”

She turned, hearing her name and--it was. It was her. Her hair had blonde highlights around the bangs now, but he’d recognize her anywhere, like her face and the faces of all the other Evolutionists were seared into his brain.

“. . . Grian?”

Grian just stared.

The other hermits had caught onto their mini debacle, and were watching them. “Grian, do you know her?” Mumbo asked.

“Y-yeah, I do,” he stammered.

“Grian?” Pearl shouted, and in an instant had scrambled up the ditch. She stopped in front of him, face pale and eyes wide, like she’d seen a ghost. Maybe he was a ghost, maybe he’d died the day they took him from Evo.

“Pearl,” he whispered.

Suddenly she threw her arms around Grian in a hug and squeezed. “Oh, it’s been so long,” she said, voice muffled.

Grian froze, but slowly reciprocated the hug. He felt numb and like he wanted to cry and scream at the same time, hands shaking, but Pearl’s warm embrace drew him back down to reality.

Pearl pulled away, blinked tears from her eyes and met Grian’s stare. Then, her gaze drifted further down, landing on his folded wings that peaked out just above his shoulders. Tentatively, she reached out to stroke a feather. “What happened to you?” she asked softly.

“I thought you were dead,” Grian said by way of answer.

“Well, I’m not,” Pearl said, and for a moment Grian almost didn’t believe her, and grabbed her wrist tightly, just to see if it was real. Pearl let him. “They took you,” she said.

Grian just looked at the ground, uncomfortably aware of how many people were watching him. Ironic, almost--he didn’t want them watching him so that they wouldn’t know about the Watchers. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the hermits. He did. He’d trust them all with his life a thousand times. He just . . . didn’t want to explain. The hermits were a good bunch. The unspoken rule was that you didn’t ask about anyone’s past unless they spoke first, and Grian knew they’d abide by that for him as well. But he could do without the turned heads.

“Alright everyone!” Xisuma shouted suddenly, startling Grian. “Let’s go, let’s get to work, this season won’t start itself!” Slowly, the hermits began to disperse, branching off into groups. “How’re ya gonna start the season if you don't chop down a tree? I’ll get to work protecting these villagers.”

Xisuma threw a glance over to them, and Grian mouthed a thank you. Xisuma just nodded, and left them alone. Grian was overwhelmed with relief at the admin’s gesture.

He turned back to Pearl.

“I-I can’t believe you’re actually here,”Grian said. He smiled and the moment he met her gaze, his eyes began to blur with tears.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” she cried. “When we got back from fighting the enderdragon you . . . you were just gone. They left a note for us . . . said it was necessary for you to be taken. All in rhyme, of course.”

“Of course it was in rhyme . . .'' Grian muttered, suddenly very angry. All the Watchers and their unknowable ways, always distilled down to some pithy saying. A life-changing event relayed to his friends in another stupid little poem. He’d written a few himself and despised it.

“I didn’t think I was ever going to see you again. Do you . . . do you mind if I ask what happened?” Pearl asked. “I’m just happy to see you here but I-”

“No, it’s alright,” Grian said with a sigh. “They took me after I fought the enderdragon, and said I was going to be one of them. I didn’t want to go but-well what could I do? So I went with them, and they promised to let me hang around the server. They lied to me, they never let me Watch Evo.” Grian paused, and felt the cool trail of a tear dripping down his cheek. “They later told me you were all dead.”

“Oh, Grian,” Pearl said, and pulled him into another hug, and that was it for him. He began to sob.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “It’s just a lot-”

“I know, I know,” she whispered.

“They-they . . . I didn’t enjoy it there. So I, I ran away. I tried to visit Evo but--there was nobody there. I figured they told the truth then, that you really were dead. I ran and found the hermits and I’ve been living with them every since, and oh they’re so wonderful but I could never forget-”

“It’s okay.” Pearl comforted. “I know, I know. We came home after finding the dragon and our place was ransacked, and we were given instructions to leave. And . . . eventually after we left, the group disbanded and we went our separate ways. But, we’re all alive.”

“Really?” Grian asked.

“Yes.”

“Everyone?”

“Yes.”

“Can I- can I see them?” he whispered. It felt forbidden.

“Of course!” Pearl exclaimed. “I’ve kept in touch with everyone, I’m sure Xisuma could help you visit if you asked.”

“Xisuma . . .” Grian thought aloud. “I haven’t told him,” Grian admitted. The admin certainly knew something was up with Grian, because players didn’t normally randomly appear in worlds they weren’t supposed to, but he’d welcomed Grian with open arms to the server and never asked a single question.

“I’m sure he would understand.”

“He would, but Pearl, I don’t want to put anyone in danger! I’m not supposed to be here!” Grian hissed.

“So then don’t tell him everything. Just say you want to visit some people. He’ll understand, I know he will,” she replied. Grian pondered it for a moment. She was right--he could just ask to visit someone. Other hermits did it all the time. Maybe--maybe a few server hops wouldn’t cause a problem. Maybe this was something within his reach, after all this time. The thought exhilarated him.

“But please,” Pearl added. “Please tell someone else, not just me. How long have you been hiding?”

Too long.

Grian didn’t answer, and the two of them stood there and listened to the crash of the waves on the nearby shoreline. The air was hot and salty, and in the distance he could hear Xisuma opening and closing doors in the village.

He didn’t know what he felt, it was like too many emotions had happened in too short of a period of time and left him burned out like a forest after a wildfire. His hands had stopped trembling, but he felt deeply tired.

Happy. You feel happy.

Grian’s communicator chimed from within his pocket. He withdrew it.

GoodTimeWithScar > Grian: are you okay

Grian smiled, and typed a response.

Grian > GoodTimeWithScar: yes

“Who was that?” Pearl asked.

“Scar. He wanted to know if I was okay.”

“Are you?”

Grian met her eyes. “I am now.” It was close enough to the truth. Grian shifted his weight between his feet, suddenly restless and tired from trying to process all this new information. “Speaking of other hermits, we should get going, yeah? We can’t let them get all the resources without us!”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she chuckled. The hermits had already spread out seeking resources, but not too far yet; Grian and Pearl could still see several of them talking to each other across the field.

“Pearl, before you go--” Grian started, looking serious. “Build next to me, alright? I...I want you to be around.”

“I promise,” she replied.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

“Why are you following me?” Grian knew why, but he wanted Mumbo to bring it up. He was torn--on one hand, he truly appreciated his friend’s concern. It was nice that others were looking out for him, a warm reminder of what their little community stood for. On the other hand . . . he’d really have just appreciated being left alone.

“You look like you have a purpose!” Mumbo exclaimed instead.

Huh.

Grian shook his head. “I’m just heading north,” he replied, shielding his eyes and looking up to see the position of the sun.

“I was just like, ‘Man, it looks like he knows where he’s going,’” Mumbo continued and Grian laughed.

They walked to the edge of the swamp, and began to cut down the trees. Starter tools were a necessity in a new world, and they had no stone.

“Ugh, I have to take down this whole tree, and then I have to replant it,” complained Mumbo.

“Wait-why have you got to replant it?” asked Grian incredulously, while getting wood for himself and not replanting the tree.

“Well I-I can’t just deforest things!”

This is going to be SO much fun to tease Mumbo with.

“Whatever you say, tree boy.”

They continued to work, getting wood, and then venturing into a shallow cave to get stone. The whole time their coms kept buzzing, buzzing, buzzing with combat death messages. Just another day in the hermitcraft world, thought Grian. Have they declared a spontaneous war up there? Either way, Pearl and Gem were getting the full introduction today, he thought with a chuckle.

Exiting the cave, they spotted a shipwreck not too far away, and decided to explore it. Grian pulled out a soggy buried treasure map, and they decided to go after it in a boat. Grian wanted to relax in the boat, to just breathe in the sea spray and try to calm his still-racing thoughts, but unfortunately Mumbo was the driver, and he was not a very good driver if you asked Grian. Grian had been tasked with navigation, which was a difficult thing when the driver couldn’t see the map you were describing.

The loot was good, and they divided it between themselves and then struck onward in the boat, this time with Grian commandeering the vessel. They looped back around to the shipwreck only to find a group of hermits that were a little too late to the prize. Pearl, Ren, and Doc were gathered around the boat looking a bit disappointed.

Mumbo and Grian decided to taunt them.

“Who got the loot?” shouted Ren.

“We got the loot!” Grian shouted back.

“Oh it was you guys,” said Pearl. Grian stuck his tongue out at her and cackled.

They looped back around to show off the Heart of the Sea, but Mumbo dropped their only diamond by accident and that was when Grian decided to steer the boat away before they lost any more valuables.

“I can’t believe you dropped the diamond,” Grian sighed.

“I was flexing too hard, I’m sorry!” cried Mumbo.

It was too comical, and Grian couldn’t be mad at his friend. They rowed on, closely following the coastline. After a few minutes, however, Mumbo asked a question.

“The new hermit, who we just saw with Doc and Ren--Pearl--is it. . . is it okay if I ask how you know her?” Mumbo spoke gently, knowing he was treading around a potentially sensitive topic. Grian knew the topic would have come up eventually, after he’d basically had a breakdown in public when he saw her.

Grian stopped the boat, and looked into the water, not at Mumbo’s face. “Yeah, I figured you’d ask. We used to be on a world together. The . . . the world I was at before I came here, actually.” It wasn’t the full truth, since he’d been to many worlds as a Watcher and had lived on the Watchers’ world for a while. But Evo had been his last home.

“Oh,” said Mumbo.

“We were friends,” continued Grian. “We were close. But I was told she was dead. Clearly, though,” he just simply gestured instead of finishing the sentence.

“Clearly she’s not dead,” Mumbo finished. “I see. Who told you she was dead?”

“Someone who didn’t have my best interests at heart.” Grian had never fully told his friend about what had happened before he joined hermitcraft, but the other man knew that it was a difficult past and had comforted him on more than one occasion--mostly after he’d first joined and the pain was still fresh. It had dulled with time and Grian had become more and more adjusted to his new life.

Seeing Pearl again was a miracle, but it sure sharpened the pain.

Grian rested his elbows on the side of the boat and pressed the heels of his palm into his eyes. “It wasn’t just her, either, they told me everyone on the server was dead. And-they’re all alive. All of them. It’s fantastic news, brilliant news, I’m just-”

“Thinking of the people who didn’t have your best interests at heart?”

“Yeah.”

Mumbo laid a hand on Grian’s shoulder. “I don’t know who they are,” he began, “but I know they’re not here now. You have us now, and you have Pearl here too. That all is in the past.”

Grian stared out over the water, watching as the sunlight sparkled and danced over the waves. “You’re a good friend, you know that right?”

“Well, I do try to be,” Mumbo chuckled. “Now-I think we should probably go pick up Scar over there, I think the poor man is going to drown!”

“Oh no!” Grian said, and scrambled for the oars, and then they were off.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

When Grian, Impulse, Scar, and Mumbo created the Boatem Pole, Pearl was there to join them.

When Grian woke up in his makeshift camp the next morning, he was happy to see Pearl setting up her own starter base on the other side of the Boatem Pole.

When Grian showed up at Xisuma’s base two days later, he asked for permission to visit other servers.

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #grian #pearlescentmoon #hermitcraft fanfic #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft season 8 #quara fanfic

199 notes · View notes

itsany62 · 3 years

Text

SteveTony - Alternate Universe

Here are some Alternate Universe fics that I love. Don't forget to leave kudos and nice comments in every fic!

Food for the Heart, by LagLemon, 14 k >, Cooking, No Powers.

After being introduced to a gourmet food on a budget blog by Pepper (a gift for her elderly, cheapskate mother) Tony starts cooking again. The recipes are good, but the blog owner is even better. Still, Tony isn't so sure Captain America, the guy who runs the blog, can compete with Hot Bagboy, the gorgeous blond who works at the grocery store.

"Free to Good Home" by Captain_Panda, 7 k > words, Alternate Universe - Animals.

"Oliver and Company" AU.

There's a great big world outside the box.

But it's a dog-eat-dog world, and Tony's just one cat. Then a stray dog comes along, looking for a friend.

A Day In Principal Stark's Office, by nannersmelo, 10 k > words, Steve Single Parent, Director Tony.

Tony Stark has his hands full with not only Stark Industries, but also his beloved mother's life project: The Maria Stark Academy, and as he enters his office in order to deal with a ferocious mother whose son was apparently assaulted by one of his brightest students, he was sure this day would culminate in nothing but a heinous headache. Little did he know - he was in for one hell of a surprise.

I Am the Night by gottalovev, 6 k > words, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Vampire Tony Stark, Wizard Steve Rogers.

That's it. Tony is doomed. He rolls on his back, crosses his wings over his belly and closes his eyes. He'll await death here, misunderstood by the world to the bitter end.

C is for Calculus and Compromise, by heydoeydoey, 11 k>, Gifted AU, Post-Divorce, Angts with a Happy Ending.

Steve's just trying to give his prodigy daughter a normal childhood. Enter a meddling school administrator, Tony Stark, and too many lawyers.

tell you my love for you by jelliebean, 22 k > words, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Based on Love Simon.

A guy at Shield High comes out on tumblr, anonymously. Tony thought he was the only gay guy on campus--not out, because of Howard--and sends him an email.

“Hey, Flying. Same here. I’ve got a secret too, and it’s like I’m hiding who I am, every day. From everyone. All the closest people to me. But I just can’t tell them. I’m gay, too. It feels like I’m putting on this mask, this shell of who I think they want me to be. Even though I don’t think my friends would judge me. I don’t know why. I just. I’ve got a secret. –Shell”

The guy seems great--amazing, even, and then Hammer has to step in and ruin it all.

Mergers & Acquisitions by Robin_tCJ, 33 k > words, Angst, sex as currency.

Steve Rogers is the CEO of the Rogers Corporation, which he built from the ground up. When he learns that Hydra International is making a bid for a hostile takeover of Stark Industries, he decides he has to do what he can to stop Hydra from overtaking the market and becoming an unstoppable, unethical conglomerate. Tony Stark asks for something Steve isn’t sure he should give, but he does it anyway – and it completely changes everything. But when Hydra keeps coming, Steve and Tony realize there’s more to this than they’d realized.

Meeting the Monsters by itsallAvengers, 23 k > words, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters.

Tony's at public school with kids his age for the first time in seventeen years, and he is determined that this year is gonna be his year. He's going to make friends. He's going to be popular. People will like him.

Unsurprisngly, none of that actually happens.

He does sort-of-maybe fall in love with a vampire in his class that everyone is terrified of, though. So... there's that.

(I Want You To See) The Darkest Side Of Me by ann2who, 45 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Post-World War II.

In Monte Carlo, Steve meets the wealthy widower Anthony Stark. It’s love at first sight—at least for Steve—and he can’t believe his luck when Tony asks him to live at Stark Mansion, his large estate in Malibu. Never in his life had Steve thought something like this was possible… never had he been this happy. However, soon Steve realizes that Tony is still deeply troubled by the death of his first wife and haunted by the many ghosts she left behind. The longer Steve lives in her shadow, the more he understands that… He can never be what Tony’s wife had once been for him. And Tony might never truly love him.

Gift With Purchase Remix by sabrecmc, 43 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, hooker Steve, Sugar Daddy.

Gift With Purchase Remix wherein Steve actually is a hooker. But for a Really Sympathetic Reason.

The Little Glass Screwdriver by ann2who, 19 k > words, Cinderella AU.

When Prince Steven is forced to find himself a bride, true love gets in the way. As the night of the grand ball unfolds, the prince meets a mysterious knight who might just change his entire life in a way he could have never imagined.

**Cinderella AU**

Covered in Lines by royal_chandler, 3 k > words, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Alternate Universe - College/University, Age Difference.

He can’t lose sight of pale, deft hands that gesture on transitive verbs, an ink-stained thumb edging underneath Tony’s ribcage with an affection that can only be called dangerous.

half-wild and glimmering by deathsweetqueen , 15 k > words, Alternate Universe - Western, Prostitution.

“Give me a drink, Tasha,” Tony sighs as he lands in front of the bar. “I’ve had one hell of a day.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Have you really?” she asks, loftily, sliding a tumbler of whiskey along the well-polished wood.

Tony lets his head hang, the sweat beading on the back of his neck. “You wouldn’t believe what I’ve had to put myself through today,” he sighs, wearily.

“I would not know. You will not let me work the rooms,” Natasha retorts, her voice a little strained, busying her hands in a dirty glass.

“I don’t let you work the rooms ‘cause you’re liable to kill anyone who touches ya the wrong way and we can’t lose that much of our business,” Tony reminds her, wryly amused, sipping at his whiskey. He shakes his head at the burn. “We peddle flesh, darling, not death.”

peers, fears and holiday cheers by jacobby, 24 k > words, Parent Tony Stark.

“He’s only two years older than you,” Tony finally says when the silence becomes too much to bear.

“Dad, Teddy is turning twenty-seven next year.”

“I am not dating your husband—”

“I’m not implying you are. I just want you to be...aware that he’s practically the same age as my husband.”

AKA

Tony Stark's new boyfriend is only two years older than his adult sons. Telling them is one thing, introducing them is another. What Tony doesn't expect is that the past always has a way of catching up to him, of biting him in the ass when he least expects it. Well, at least they're all together for the Holidays. What more can he ask for?

A Higher Form of War by sabrecmc, 292 k > words, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Historical Romance.

Tony is a King with a surprising number of people out to kill him. Steve and the rest of the Avengers are fighting for Pierce's rebellion and end up with Tony as their prisoner. Oops.

you can call me babe for the weekend by complicationstoo, 10 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, actor Tony Stark.

Tony left his small town for Los Angeles after high school, leaving behind everything to pursue his dream. Ten years later, he comes back for the first time and finds that some things are impossible to let go of.

Lord, What Fools These Mortals Be by iam93percentstardust, 72 k > words, Alternate Universe - Theatre.

Famed director Phil Coulson brings Shakespeare’s beloved play, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, to Broadway. This production though comes with a twist: a brief but passionate love affair between the faerie king, Oberon, and his attendant, Puck. In the roles of the two star-crossed lovers, Coulson casts America’s darling Steve Rogers, fresh off his third Academy Award, and Broadway royalty, Tony Stark. Steve quickly finds himself falling for the quick-witted and sarcastic actor but Tony is dating the stage manager. Unwilling to come between the seemingly happy couple, Steve steps back but all isn’t right behind the scenes and Tony may need him when everything falls apart.

and so we rebuild by raeldaza, 26 k > words, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Soulmates, Mutual Pining.

Sometimes, a voice whispers: you will never atone for your mistakes.

Tony believes that, believes it so strongly some days he drowns in it, but he still tries. Tries through Starfleet, tries through inventions, tries through missions. Then, one day, he meets his new Captain, and things change.

and teach this heart (how to beat with light), by starklystar, 40 k >, AU Hospital, Single parent Steve.

Eight years ago, at a funeral with a baby's cries ringing in his ears, Tony Stark decided to turn his life around. He's a genius, billionaire, philanthropist. What's so hard to adding 'doctor' to that list? And after that, it can't be that hard to add 'husband' and 'father' too, right? But the past has a way of haunting even the very best of us, and in any universe, Tony Stark and Steve Rogers have never had an easy love.

Featuring: drama, chaos, Peter's scheming, meddling friends, and doctors learning again that the heart can never be as simple as four chambers and four valves.

Catching Lightning in a Bottle by sabrecmc, 120 k > words, Alternate Universe - Sweet Home Alabama Fusion.

College student Tony meets janitor Steve at MIT and they fall blissfully in love, until Howard happens and things fall apart. One divorce paperwork snafu courtesy of the ever-helpful Jarvis, and ten years later, Tony has to get re-divorced from Steve.

This does not go as he imagines.

Or, the Sweet Home Alabama AU that no one--well, okay, a few of you--asked for.

The Night Shift by weethreequarter , 16 k > words, Alternate Universe - Hospital.

Welcome to the Emergency Department of San Antonio General where Dr. Tony Stark joins the team fresh from his most recent tour in Afghanistan and - much to the consternation of the other staff - strikes up an instant rapport with Nurse Steve Rogers. Meanwhile, new resident Bruce Banner refuses to give up on his patient, and Dr. Sharon Carter learns something from her own patients. Throw in a pissed off hospital administrator, Clint using the coffee pot as a mug again, and a major car crash and you have, well, just another night shift.

Cake It Till You Make It by ChocolateCapCookie, 10 k > words, Kid Fic, Alternate Universe - Bakery.

Steve Rogers and Tony Stark have a lot in common. They're single parents, they own rival bakeries at the center of town... and they both hate each other's guts.

When a mix-up at Peter and Morgan's school has both fathers scrambling to prove they're the better baker, they do the mature, adult thing and compete in a bake-off. Between the mixing and the creaming, the baking and the icing, Steve and Tony find that hate is actually not that far from love.

Looking for Heaven by foxxcub, 31 k > words, Alternate Universe - Regency, Marriage of Convenience.

When young Lord Anthony Stark learns Steven Rogers has enlisted in the army, he thinks he's seen the last of his tiny, headstrong, haughty stable boy. But four years later, Lord Stark gets an unexpected visit from Steve, whose mother has fallen gravely ill and into financial ruin. Even more unexpected, Steve agrees to a shocking proposal: they will marry, giving Steve the necessary funds to save his mother, and Tony the much-needed reprieve from harassing would-be suitors. It is a business arrangement, nothing more. But as time goes on and circumstances arise, Tony begins to learn that keeping his heart away from his husband is easier said than done.

just a guy, standing in front of another guy by theappleppielifestyle, 12 k > words.

“It’s not real,” Tony says, still smiling, jaw twitching with effort. “The fame. It’s - I’m just a guy."

(Or, Notting Hill AU, with a twist.)

Mother of Exiles (A Titanic AU) by BladeoftheNebula, 21 k > words, Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion.

“You’ll never guess what just happened!” Steve said, taking a deep breath to try and calm his breathing. “I met someone. A guy from first class.”

Dublin 1912: Steve Rogers is barely making ends meet, living in the tenement slums of Dublin. But a stroke of good luck gives him and his best friend the chance to change their fortune. Two tickets to America on board the RMS Titanic.

The Devil You Know by shetlandowl, 17 k > words, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Author/Novelist.

Best selling author Tony Stark revives the bodice ripper genre for a modern audience. From frisky gay cowboys to ravenous lesbian pirate queens, he consistently delivers riveting thrillers full of romance, drama, and the filthy, unapologetically kinky sex that has become his trademark specialty.

Tony has everything a man could dream of - horny, adoring fans, and boatloads of money. Or that's what he thought, until Detective Steve Rogers walks into his life and turns it all upside down.

Bears and Mountains and Lumberjacks Oh My! by justanotherrollingstony (adoctoraday), 24 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Lumberjack Steve Rogers.

It was supposed to be easy--go meet the reclusive artist and buy some art. And then came the broken down car. And the snowstorm. And the lumberjack with a face like a greek god. So yea, Tony is stuck in a cabin in the woods with a hot lumberjack till the storm clears. Could be worse.

Series: A Furious Vexation by Annie D (scaramouche), 18 k > words, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse.

A Steve/Tony post-apocalypse AU that exists pretty much just for the smut.

That Feline Beat by Tito11, 5 k > words, Alternate Universe - Animals.

Presenting Steve and Tony in the Aristocats!AU

Tony and his three kittens have been kidnapped from their fancy Upper East Side apartment while their owners are away and deposited on the mean streets of Harlem. Unsure of where they are or how to get back home, they'll have to rely on street cat Steve to guide them. Will they get home safely? Will Tony's fear of abandonment cause him to drive away the best tomcat he's ever known? Only time will tell.

do you fondue? by calciseptine, 16 k > words, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting.

Tony has done crazy things in the name of food, but falling in love with Steve Rogers really takes the cake.

a glimpse of heaven's love by parkrstark, 13 k> words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Terminal Illnesses.

The child begins to empty his pockets. He starts to count coins on the counter. Tony huffs a little impatiently as he realizes most of them are pennies.

The cashier actually humors the kid and counts along with him. They reach 3 dollars and 54 cents before he shakes his head sadly. "Sorry, kid. There's not enough here."

The kid sounds close to crying. "I need these paints for my Papa. It's Christmas Eve and these...he doesn't have any. The doctors said he doesn't have long. I want him to have these. In case he meets Jesus tonight, I want him to paint one more time. Please."

Tony takes a step forward, arms still full of toys he's buying just because. He can cover this child's gift for his dying father. Money. Money is what he's good for.

"I'll buy them."

Or, the Christmas Shoes AU no one but me asked for.

If you survive first impressions, you're good to go by itsallAvengers, 3 k > words, Parent Tony Stark, Alternate Universe - No Powers.

The first time Peter Parker-Stark sees Steve Rogers, he may or may not be standing in direct path of the man's motorcycle.

His daddy is really not going to be happy about that one.

A Rat-ional Conclusion by BladeoftheNebula, 6 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Veterinarians, Parent Tony Stark.

He had a strong flurry of patients throughout the morning and by the time it rolled around to noon, he was just about worn out.

He walked out into the reception, stretching until he felt a satisfying pop. “Are we done?”

Bucky checked the screen. “Just about. One more before lunch - a rat, singular.”

Steve breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully straight forward then. “Great, let me know when they-”

He was interrupted by the bell over the door and looked up to see a little girl cradling a small animal carrier, being shepherded through the door by easily one of the hottest men he’d ever seen in real life.

Oh wow.

Tidal Pull by sabrecmc, 97 k > words, Octopus Tony Stark, Alternate Universe - Shipwrecked.

After the American Civil War, Union soldier Steve Rogers takes a chance on an opportunity to sail with the Stark Trading Company down in the Caribbean. During a terrible storm, his ship is lost. To his surprise, he survives, and ends up stranded on an island that isn't quite as deserted as he first thinks.

Or, a reverse Little Mermaid tale where Steve has to fall for the fish-man.

Twelve Days by elysianprince, 22 k > words, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Ghosts.

In which Tony finds himself in a town that looks like it crawled out of a Hallmark Christmas movie, trying to sell an inn he didn't know he owned, all while dealing with Steve Rogers, the resident ghost who has returned to haunt the inn each December during the twelve days of Christmas for the past seventy years. Tony has only one logical solution that benefits them both: break the curse that binds him - but falling for a man almost a century old wasn't among his plans.

She kissed me by S_Horne, 1 k > words, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting.

“Your mom kissed me.”

Steve blinked awake and lifted his head from his pillow to look over at the silhouette in the doorway. “What?”

“Your mom,” Tony reiterated. “She kissed me.”

“Yeah,” Steve said simply, “she does that.”

#stevetony #stony #fic rec #tony stark #steve rogers #my recs

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ssahotchhner · 4 years

Text

like real people do

PART TWO

hi! this is my first criminal minds fic, i haven’t watched the show all the way through in several years and while doing a rewatch discovered that i HAD to write hotch. this will be two parts, here’s the first! let me know your thoughts please, i love talking to my readers (:

words: 5837

pairing: hotch x reader

warnings: usual criminal minds nastiness, rape mention, death, curse words

Everyone knew that SSA Aaron Hotchner has been emotionally unavailable since his divorce, so everyone was that much more surprised when he kissed you at the bar in front of all your colleagues at the BAU. You wouldn’t lie, you had had a crush on Aaron for years now, but you had imagined your hypothetical romance much differently. As it was, Aaron had immediately left the bar in a flurry of embarrassment, murmuring a hurried apology on his way out leaving you to the unabashed teasing of your coworkers that you had pretended to brush off. Now, days later, Aaron still refused to so much as look at you.

“Y/N,” Morgan rolled his chair over to your desk, “I’m dying to know, is Hotch a good kisser?”

You sigh, “Fuck off, Derek.”

“Leave the poor girl alone, Derek,” Rossi says as he passes by, “Don’t you think it’s bad enough Hotch is giving her the silent treatment now?”

You tried to hide the way the tears pricked the back of your eyes at his comment, but you were surrounded by FBI profilers.

Morgan lowered his voice and reach out his hand to touch your arm, “Hey, babygirl, I’m sorry, I was just teasing, maybe you should try talking to Hotch--”

“Talking to me about what?” Aaron had been so quiet walking up on you and your head had been low, so focused on not crying that you hadn’t heard him.

“Nothing.” You say quickly, and as expected he avoids making eye contact, “Do you need something, sir?” You don’t miss the way he flinches at the formality. Good.

“We have a new case.” He says simply and walks away.

Morgan let out a low whistle, “You really hit him with the ‘sir.’” You started to get up from your desk, but Morgan put a hand on your arm again, “Seriously, Y/N, I’m sorry. If you need to talk I’m here.”

You sighed and stood up again, forcing a smile, “There’s nothing to talk about Derek, I’m fine. Now come on.”

“We have a serial rapist in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.” JJ starts immediately as everyone files in. You feel Morgan’s gaze on you the entire time and try not to get frustrated. He’s been like a brother to you since you joined the BAU a few years ago and you know this overprotectiveness was just him being a good friend, but it was bound to drive you nuts. “Victims are all white women ranging from their late teens to early twenties at a local university.”

“Why are we being called in for a rapist on a college campus?” Reid asks, “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but we all know the statistics. There are dozens of serial rapists on college campuses.”

“Because this one is torturing them while he rapes them and leaves them notes leading up to the attacks.” Hotch says as Penelope begins to pull up pictures on the screen of these women. “Slut, whore, bitch, cunt. All carved on their chests.” You do your best to hide the nausea that rises in you as you look at the pictures. Do your job. You remind yourself.

“What do the notes say?” Emily asks.

“They seem like thinly veiled threats,” Reid begins, “They sound romantic at first glance, but if you read closely you can see the context.”

“He breaks into their dorms when they’re at class or at parties and waits for them to come home and then he holds them at knifepoint so they won’t scream.” Penelope says, trying not to let her voice shake.

“Risky to do in a dorm building and no one’s seen him?” Morgan says.

Rossi ponders this, “That means he must blend in, someone no one would think twice about being inside. A student, an RA, or a university official.”

“University officials don’t normally enter student dorms unless there’s an issue, they’d be more likely to stand out and students would talk about them showing up.” Hotch muses.

“Y/N, you’re awful quiet today,” Emily nudges your elbow, “What do you think?”

You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, but Aaron’s. Still looking at his manila folder as if Emily hadn’t addressed you. As if you didn’t exist. You clear your throat, “I think the RA or student theory makes sense. We should probably interview the RA of the first victim, assuming he’s a man. It would make sense to me that he would start with one of his own students and then begin to branch out. Maybe he thought he could stop, get that release he needed after just one, but the need only grew stronger.”

“Wheels up in thirty, we’ll discuss more on the plane.” Hotch says and stands, walking out of the room without another glance.

“Did something happen last night at the bar?” Emily murmurs, the only member of the team who didn’t make it out the night before, “Hotch is acting really weird around you.”

Derek snickers on the other side of you and you elbow him, “That’s it, I’m going to talk to him.”

Reid winces, “Good luck.”

“It’ll be fine, kid.” Rossi says and squeezes your shoulder as you pass.

You take a long breath before you finally build the courage to walk into Aaron’s office where he’s packing his briefcase. “Sir, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Can it wait until we’re on the plane, agent?”

Agent. You roll your eyes toward the ceiling, “No, sir, it can’t.” You can’t hide the bite in your words this time. He finally looks at you, really looks at you. You wonder what he sees.

“Close the door.” He says quietly and then sits behind his desk.

You walk slowly to the seat in front of his desk. This time, he watches you. “This is the first time you’ve looked at me all day.”

“I wasn’t aware you were analyzing me.”

“Are you telling me you haven’t been analyzing me all day?”

“Agent, what is this about? We have a plane to catch.”

You stare at him for a few moments longer, “Fine,” You stand, “If you want to pretend nothing happened, I’ll do the same. But if you could at least stop ignoring me, that would be great.”

“Agent--”

“And use my goddamn name, for Christ’s sake.”

He stares at you and you know he hates your emotional outburst and that in turn makes you hate yourself. “Then you stop calling me ‘sir.’” He says quietly.

Your eyes soften for just a moment and then you storm back out of his office nearly plowing over Rossi as you leave. Rossi walks into Aaron’s office to see him rubbing his forehead, “Well that doesn’t look like it went well.”

“I screwed up, Rossi.”

“Oh, come on Hotch, it was just one kiss. It didn’t mean anything--”

“It did mean something. To me. Maybe not to her.”

Rossi shakes his head, “Then why are you giving her the cold shoulder?”

Hotch sighs, “Because we work together, because she doesn’t feel the same, because she’s the first woman I’ve kissed since Haley. Pick a reason.” Rossi looks like he’s going to interject, but Hotch stands, “We don’t have time for this, Rossi, let’s go.”

Rossi sighs as he watches Aaron walk out of his office and follows after.

***

You’re quiet most of the plane ride, conscious of the looks everyone is giving you as you read the information in the manila folder over and over, trying to be good at your job instead of thinking about your boss.

“When we get off the plane, JJ and Prentiss, you go talk to the victims. Rossi and I will touch base with the police. Morgan, Reid, Y/N, you go talk to anyone you can find at the dorms, see if anyone’s seen anyone suspicious.” You make it a point not to react, but everyone else reacts anyway, watching you carefully. Hotch almost always assigns himself with you.

“If you guys don’t stop psychoanalyzing me I will eject myself from this plane.”

Everyone looks away except Aaron and when you meet his eyes, he’s smirking. Those smiles are so rare and you can’t deny how it satisfies you to know you were the reason he did so. You quickly look back down at your work, careful not to reveal anything you’re feeling.

***

“Do you have feelings for Hotch?” Reid asks without preamble when you’re in the car with Derek.

“Spencer!” You exclaim in outrage. Derek just laughs from the driver’s seat.

“What? You both wouldn’t be being so weird about one kiss if it wasn’t something more.”

“Okay, Romeo, remember that she’s armed.” Derek cautioned.

“He’s my boss, Reid. It’s weird because he’s my boss.”

“Well, sure, by definition Hotch is our superior but we all know--” Reid cut himself off when he saw the look Derek was giving him in the rearview mirror, “Yeah, you’re right, it’s weird.” He said quickly.

You sigh and turn to the window and ignore Derek and Spencer the rest of the ride.

***

“So you mean to tell me that ten women have come forward about being raped in their dorms and you told them to consider themselves lucky they weren’t murdered and sent them home without doing a rape kit?” Aaron’s furious. Furious with himself for the previous night and he’s more than happy to take out that anger on the local Milwaukee police department.

“Look, man, we get a lot of he said she said in here, we don’t have the time or the man power to follow up on every one.”

Just then his phone rings. It’s you. He wishes he could ignore the pang that goes through him just from reading your name. “Hotch.” He answers.

“Sir-- I mean, Aaron.” You correct yourself quickly, and then realize you should have called him Hotch, but it’s too late. “They’ve found a body.”

He frowns, “A body? That doesn’t fit his MO.”

You swallow, “Yeah, well, everything else does. He seems to have gotten a little carried away with the carving this time.”

“We’ll be right there.”

You hang up your phone and then turn back to Reid and Morgan who are looking over the crime scene. You sit with Victoria’s, the victim’s, distraught roommate and try to calm her and maybe get some actual information out of her. You don’t hear or see Aaron walk in until he’s already next to you, “Did you get anything from her?”

His closeness makes it hard to focus, “Just regular roommate stuff, she might be more useful once she calms down. I asked if her roommate had a boyfriend or anything like that and she said she was quiet, kept to herself. Boys were out of the question.”

“He’s escalated. Why?”

You shrug, “Could be because we’re here, that might have upset him and he lost control. But it could have been an accident, roommate says Victoria had a heart condition. The stress of the situation might have killed her.”

Hotch nods, “Good work.”

He was trying to be normal, you could tell. And he was trying so hard. “Thank you.” You said softly and then you excused yourself. Everything about him set you on edge and over and over the moment he kissed you plays in your head.

***

You’re both laughing to near snorting while sitting at the bar and Aaron can’t stop watching you, “You have an incredible laugh, you know?” He says softly when you’ve both settled down. “Sometimes when I think this job isn’t worth it, I’ll hear your laugh outside my office and just that sound…” He realizes what he’s saying suddenly and turns his head away from you smiling at his drink now.

“You make it worth it for me too.” You say and his eyes are back on you, “You so rarely ever smile, but when you smile at me… It makes it all worth it. The long hours, the horrible cases… all of it.”

When you look back at him he’s suddenly serious again. You can see his eyes calculating as he searches your face and you realize with a bit of shock that he’s trying to see if you’re lying. When his eyes finally settle back on yours, he gently reaches up, almost without thinking about it and curls a loose piece of hair behind your ear.

And then in the next second, his hand still on your face, his mouth is on yours.You forget that there’s anyone else in the world for those few seconds that he kisses you. Until everyone on the team starts jeering and Aaron pulls away like he’s seen a ghost.

“Aaron?” You say, frowning as he jumps up from his seat, not looking at you and gathering his things.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he murmurs and then runs out.

Derek’s laughing as he walks up to you, “Damn, princess. You broke Hotch! I gotta say, you’re incredibly out of his league.” You glare at him. “What? You’re out of my league too.”

You smile at that and try to act like everything’s normal, but you’re sure Spencer notices that you drink more and laugh a little too loudly.

***

You’re pulled back from the memory as JJ walks toward you, “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah,” You nod, “Fine, just needed a second alone to think.”

She stops in front of you and rests her hand on your arm, lightly squeezing, “You can talk to me, you know, about men. Even Hotch.”

You smile, “I appreciate everyone’s concern, but I’m fine, really. It’s not that big a deal.”

“It’s a big deal if it starts interfering with the job, and I can see it on both of you,” She’s stern all of a sudden, “I know he’s our boss, but underneath that he’s just any other man, Y/N. Don’t let him fool you into thinking otherwise.”

“Guys,” Derek interrupts, sticking his head out into the hallway, “You’re gonna wanna see this.”

When you come back in the room, Spencer is crouched over the body, gloves on, examining the carvings in her body, “There’s hesitation in the cuts this time and you can tell they were done after she was dead. And if you look a little bit closer…”

“‘Sorry…’” You read the small script, astonished. “Remorse. It was an accident.” Your eyes dart back and forth as you lose yourself in your own thoughts while the rest of the team discusses, “I think we can deliver the profile.”

***

“We’re looking for a white male in his early to mid twenties.” Hotch starts, “He most likely is able to gain the women’s trust, maybe he’s a student RA or a student tech worker, but they let him in without a second thought.”

“I thought he breaks into the dorms and waits for them?” A cop asks.

“He does,” You say, “But the initial access is how he chooses his victims. He’s a loner, doesn’t have many friends, certainly no girlfriend. It’s possible that he asks these girls on dates when he first meets them, and when they refuse he feels entitled to them anyway which is why he comes back for the rape.”

“What about the murder?” Another cop asks.

“We believe the death of the last girl was an accident.” Reid responds, “She had a heart condition and the medical examiner has confirmed she died from sudden cardiac arrest. The unsub even seemed to show remorse when he defiled the body after, carving the word ‘sorry’ into her body.”

“The killing has most likely set him on edge. He’s remorseful, upset, overcome with immense guilt, but he blames the women. If they had just said yes to him, he wouldn’t have to do this. She wouldn’t have died.” Derek continues, “You should be looking for someone who was soft spoken, but as the rapes started he became more assertive, maybe he had an altercation with a professor or supervisor.”

“You’ve probably interviewed him already,” You say, “He inserts himself into the investigation because he feels guilt and watching the investigation play out validates that he was right for doing what he did.” You sigh, “There’s one more thing. He didn’t intend to kill Victoria, but… He spent time with the body after she had passed. He mutilated her as well as continued his rape of her afterward. It’s possible that he enjoyed the kill and will kill the next time as well. So stay vigilant and… please tell the girls not to let any men in their dorms. Thank you.”

Aaron comes up to you, “Can I speak to you alone for a moment?”

You nod and follow him into a conference room and he closes the door behind you, “You’re really an incredible profiler, agent.”

Again with the ‘agent.’ “Thank you, sir.”

“I just wanted to assure you that I will remain nothing but professional around you from here on out.”

You tilted your head to the side and you knew the pain was evident on your face as you didn’t try to hide it, “I see.”

“You’re upset.”

You laugh, “Did you mean anything you said at the bar, Aaron, or were you just drunk?” You’re aware of how vulnerable you’re being in front of him now as you can hear the tears in your own voice.

You see him calculating what the best response is and this just infuriates you more, “Forget it, you’re just going to talk to me like some unsub, trying to best figure out what to say to calm me down.”

He shakes his head, “That’s not what I’m doing.”

You start to walk out and stop to stand next to him, “You just said yourself I’m an incredible profiler, so please don’t profile me and think I won’t notice.”

He closes his eyes as you continue walking out, “Y/N, wait.” Despite yourself, you do stop at the sound of your name. “I’m sorry, I-- I meant the things I said at the bar, I’m… But I’m your boss and I don’t want to make it difficult for you to do your job.”

You force a smile and look up at him, “Don’t worry, Hotch, won’t be a problem.”

And then you’re gone and he gets the feeling you won’t call him Aaron ever again.

***

Spencer walks in the entrance of the dorm you’ve been staking out, two coffees in hand. He hands one to you wordlessly, “Have you gotten any sleep?”

“Obviously not.” You sigh and happily guzzle the coffee, “Thanks.”

“Hotch is upset.”

“About what?” You murmur, half paying attention, half going over the case again on the papers in front of you.

“About you, obviously.”

You don’t look up, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. How do you even know Hotch is upset? He always looks like he’s pissed at something.”

“Because I’m a profiler. Everyone knows he’s off, no one will say to his face that it’s because of you.”

You sigh and look up at him, “Spencer, we’re fine, okay? We’re adults.” He’s quiet, but he won’t stop staring at you, “What?”

“I know that I’m… not the most perceptive when it comes to emotions, but… I think he’s in love with you. And I’m pretty sure you’re in love with him.”

You smirk, “And what makes you think that, Mr. Profiler?”

He smiles back, “Well, Hotch is always watching you, mostly when you’re not looking and when he does his expression sort of… softens. He almost always assigns the two of you together when giving the unit assignments, which I think is partially because he likes to be around you, but also because he’s trying to protect you, especially after that hostage situation a few months ago. He was a wreck when you were in there. Screaming at everyone, I really thought he would kill the unsub when he found him.”

“He would do that for any of us, when any of us were in danger.” You said, quickly shaking your head to dismiss the idea.

But Spencer shakes his head, “You didn’t see him. It was different.”

“Spencer, he barely gave me a pat on the back when I left that hostage situation alive.”

“That’s because he doesn’t trust himself around you. Why do you think the only time he’s ever given you a hint at the way he feels was when he was drunk?”

Your head is spinning as you look at Spencer, “No, that doesn’t make any sense--”

“It makes perfect sense and I know you know that.” Spencer’s phone rings, “Reid.” He sighs and lowers his head, “Where? Okay, we’ll be right there.” He hangs up the phone, “There’s another body.”

You sigh, “I really hate being right.”

***

“You were right,” Hotch says from behind you, “He’s discovered he likes killing.”

It was never easy looking at bodies, but somehow it was always worse when you had predicted it and still not been able to stop it, “How did he do it?”

“Manual strangulation.”

“Has anyone checked for skin or blood under her fingernails? Sign of a struggle?”

Aaron nods, “Already scraped off and sent to Garcia.”

“Even if she can’t find a match, we’ll be able to narrow down suspects by the injuries she left.”

“The school is panicking, they want to evacuate the campus.”

“If they evacuate we’ll never find him, he’ll just start again somewhere else.”

“That’s what I told them.”

You sigh, “Why are the girls still letting him in?”

“Maybe they’re not,” Hotch mused, “Maybe he’s starting to pick the girls from his classes now that we’re here.”

“The last two victims, do we have their schedules? Their majors?”

“They were both nursing majors,” Emily interjects, “Third year.”

You nod, “Okay, so by that point, third year, majority of their classes are restricted to nursing majors only.” You flip your phone open and dial Penelope.

“Hello my delightful fairy princess, what can I do for you?”

“Garcia, the last two victims, can you cross reference their class schedules and tell me if they had any classes in common?”

“Yes, just a second… Three classes in common.”

“Okay, cross reference with the remaining victims.”

“Um, okay, wow, all of them had two classes in common.”

“Shit.” You mutter, “Can you send over the class rosters of both those classes, but just the men. And also send pictures.”

“You got it.”

“Thanks, Penelope.”

You shake your head, “They were all nursing majors.” You say as you hang up, “How did we miss that?”

Reid was shaking his head, “We didn’t have a lot of time to interview the victims before the first body turned up.”

“Alright, we need everyone looking through those rosters, rounding up every male we can and interviewing them.” Hotch starts, “Y/N, you’re with me for interviews, the rest of you keep in touch with Garcia and find out anything you can.”

You try to ignore the shock you feel that he picked you this time, noting Reid’s raised eyebrows as he left the room. “You sure you want me on interviews?” You ask when you’re alone.

He’s looking at all the evidence on the corkboard, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Wasn’t sure if you would want to work closely with me anymore.” You say, standing next to him now and also looking over the evidence.

He looks at you now, “You have the same features as a lot of the victims, I’m hoping it’ll get a rise out of our unsub if we find him.”

You nod, “Makes sense.”

“And,” He says pointedly until you meet his eyes, “As I’ve said already, you’re an excellent agent and I could use your help on this.”

You heave a big sigh, “Okay, how do you wanna play it?”

He shrugs, “I think you already know what role I need you to play.”

***

This is maybe the tenth or so interview you and Hotch had done with no success. You were tired of playing this role, especially in front of Hotch.

“Jordan.” You smile sweetly at him, making sure to lean over the table just a little to give him the view he wants, “Did you know either of these girls?” You lay the pictures of the last couple victims on the table, wait to see his reaction. He brings his hands up to rest on the table and you see the shallow scratch marks on them, you share a discreet look with Hotch who barely nods in acknowledgement.

He stares for far too long. Hotch notices his hands clench into fists. He’s excited by the bodies.

“Yeah, I knew them.” He’s still looking at the pictures, “They were in two of my classes.” He finally looks up and gazes at you hungrily, “You seem awful young to be an FBI agent.”

You smile again and then look away, a sign of submission. “Stop flirting with my agent.” Hotch says placing his palms abruptly on the table. Jordan doesn’t flinch at Hotch’s presence, not taking his eyes off you. He’s more confident than either of you anticipated. Was the profile wrong or is this the wrong guy? “How did you know the victims?”

“I just told you, from class.”

“Did you ever see them outside of class?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, maybe, to do a project, not in a while though.”

“Jordan, do you know if either of the girls had a boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” He frowns, “Those two? No.” He practically scoffs.

You tilt your head to the side, “Why do you say it like that?”

“Those girls aren’t the boyfriend type. They’re whores.” There’s the bitterness in his voice.

You try to make your face as empathetic as possible, “What do you mean by that, Jordan?”

“Well, you know, they slept around… Wouldn’t give a nice guy like me a chance. You must know their type, you’re the FBI.”

You nod, “It must be so hard for a handsome, smart guy like you to get rejected. I can’t imagine why anyone would dream of missing out on that,” You shake your head, “Their loss.”

Hotch audibly scoffs and you watch Jordan glare at him. He’s getting angry. Good. “Hotch, why don’t you go get Jordan a water?”

Hotch blinks at you, trying to figure out if you had really just given him an order, “Agent, I am the lead interrogator on this case, I’m not leaving you alone in here--”

“Agent Hotchner,” You turn in your seat to face him, hoping he’ll read your expression, “Please get the young man a water, he’s been in here for hours.”

His eyes search your face for a few moments and then he leaves the room without another word. He won’t be getting Jordan a water. You know he’s watching carefully from the other side of the glass. “Sorry about him.” You say, “He doesn’t understand men like you.”

“Men like me?”

“Men who know how to get what they want.”

His face transforms as he watches you and he leans back in his chair, relaxed, legs spread to assert his dominance. “And you understand that?”

“There’s nothing sexier than a man who goes after what he wants… No matter what.”

He leans forward and whispers, “Even when they beg me to stop?”

You swallow past your disgust and, though you hate to admit it, fear, “Did they beg you to stop? Victoria and Erica?”

His smile widens as he watches you, “You remind me so much of them.”

“Can you tell me what you did to them? How you killed them?”

He licks his lips now, you think he’s lost all sense of where he is, falling for the delusion you’ve set in front of him, “You’re just like them, a dirty little slut. You want to be punished, don’t you?”

“Please.” Is the last word you whisper before he practically jumps across the table to grab your throat. Your chair falls backwards and he’s on top of you, crushing your windpipe. How could you forget that he was uncuffed? Hotch rushes in, he yells as he pulls Jordan off you, but you’re not sure what he’s saying. Then he’s cuffed Jordan and taken you out of the room.

“Sit.” Aaron says, ushering you to a chair that you practically fall into. You’re still coughing and you’re shaking a bit as Aaron gives you a water.

“I forgot,” You start, your voice hoarse, but Hotch brings the water cup to your mouth, insisting you drink before talking. You take a couple swallows, “I forgot he wasn’t cuffed.”

He shakes his head, “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have left you alone with him.”

“No, I needed you on the other side of the glass. He wouldn’t have fallen for the delusion otherwise. I needed him to forget who I was and just see me as a potential victim.” Aaron wouldn’t meet your eyes, not wanting to admit that you were right, “I’m going back in there.”

“No, you’re not, that’s out of the question.”

“Is that an order, sir?” He scans your face in frustration, “You know it has to be me. He won’t talk to you. I’ll be fine.”

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “Fine. Ask him about Erica, don’t ask about Victoria.”

“Why?”

“Because he didn’t kill Victoria himself, it’ll ruin the fantasy and he might lie to you to try to impress you. The details of the murders weren’t shared with the public, only the unsub would know how each of them died. He needs to reveal how he killed Erica to you and then we’ll have him.”

“Okay.” You stand and hold your hands behind you so he won’t see them shaking, but he’s a profiler. The attempt is mute.

He takes a step closer, “You don’t have to go back in there,” He says softly, “No one will think less of you.”

When he’s this close, looking at you with such concern, it makes you want to melt in his arms. But you had a job to do, “I can do this.”

And before he can make you think about it more, you turn away from him and march back in the interrogation room.

“Sorry about that,” You sit back down at the table and smile at him, “My partner gets a little jealous sometimes.” You lean in and whisper, “He’s usually the only one I let handle me like that.”

Just like that he’s back, “Why don’t you uncuff me so we can continue?”

You bite your lip, “I’d like to hear more about the other girls first.”

***

“Why is she in there by herself?” Rossi came up behind Aaron who was watching the unsub’s every move, ready to jump in again if needed.

“She insisted.” Hotch says simply, “She almost has him.”

Rossi sighs, “She’s stubborn. Like someone else I know.”

Hotch is quiet for a moment, “I can’t be with her, Rossi, it could ruin her career.”

“You can’t know that. And besides, don’t you think that should be her decision to make?”

Hotch doesn’t answer, he just continues watching you.

***

“Does it turn you on hearing what I’ve done to them?”

You’re sitting on your hands now, trying to stifle the growing panic in your head that was telling you to get out. He’s unarmed, he’s cuffed, Aaron is right there. He can’t hurt you. “You have no idea.” It came out breathless from your fear, but he interpreted it as desire.

“First, I knocked her out, tied her to the bed. Then I waited for her to wake up before I began. I stripped her clothes off her at that point and then I fucked her while she cried,” He’s smiling at you and you’re doing all you can to keep your expression neutral. “I took out the knife and started carving her up. You should have heard her beg. And then, when that’s all finished, I strangled her while I came inside her.” He leans over the table to get closer to you, and it takes everything in you not to move away, “Have you ever watched the light leave someone’s eyes, sweetheart?”

You calmly scoot your chair back and stand, buttoning your shirt back up and then resting your hand on your gun, reminding him of who you really are, “Thank you, Jordan. You’ve been incredibly helpful in this investigation.” And then turn to leave ignoring the way he calls after you.

When you exit the room, Aaron and Dave are both waiting for you and you sit down, exhausted, resting your head in your hands.

“Nice work, kid.” Dave says with a squeeze on your shoulder, and then he’s gone.

Then, there’s another touch on your back, more gentle and hesitant. You look up to see Aaron watching you, concern masking his face, “I’m fine, Hotch.” You say, shrugging him off.

His hand drops and you immediately regret it. “When you were taken those months ago, by that unsub…” His words are slow, as if making sure this is what he really wants to say to you. You know exactly what he’s going to say before he says it, “He raped you, didn’t he?” Your eyes snap up to meet his. “You would never tell us what actually happened, all those hours he had you, a sexual sadist.” He shakes his head, “There’s no way he would’ve been able to control himself.”

You shake your head just lightly, “I can’t do this now, Aaron.”

“Then when?” He’s frustrated now, borderline angry, “You lied at your psych eval, you said nothing happened, we let you come back after just a couple of weeks--”

“And I’m doing just fine, aren’t I?” You stand so you’re nearly eye level with him.

“You think I didn’t notice the way you almost fell apart in there?”

“But I didn’t. I finished it and I did a damn good job and you know it.”

Hotch erases all traces of emotion from his face as he stares you down, “You’re suspended for two weeks, effective immediately. Hand over your badge and gun, agent.”

You nearly stumble back from him as if you’ve been hit, “Aaron?”

“What’s going on?” Prentiss has entered the room now followed by the rest of the team, all watching with confused and worried expressions.

“You heard me.” Hotch says, never taking his eyes off you. You make no moves to take out your badge or gun, “Now, agent.” There’s bite to his words this time.

You feel humiliated. With the whole team watching, you place your gun and badge on the table and brush by Aaron without a second glance. Pushing past the team, even Spencer who reaches for you.

“What the hell was that, Hotch?” Derek says once you’ve left.

“She lied in order to pass her psych eval. I did what I had to do.” Everyone’s staring at him, but he walks by, seemingly unphased, “Good work, everyone. Get some rest, we go home tomorrow at first light.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #hotch fic #hotch fluff #hotch angst #hotch imagine #mine

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flowerflamestars · 3 years

Note

i remember that you once said something about privateer nesta could you elaborate? please? *shrek cat eyes*

WHO TOLD YOU I AM COMPLETELY VULNERABLE TO THE CAT EYES??

okay, so admittedly I don't remember the context in which I said this?? But I still SUPER super love the idea

and it matches with what we'll call the Dream ACOTAR Extended Universe Plot, almost canon.

We begin with the final battle against Hybern. Tamlin dies, closing the loop of his tragic, misspent life. Amren stays dead, a magical being on to the next adventure.

Rhysand stays dead.

He functionally (magically) threw himself on a bomb, and took the whole blast. He's not the Cauldron- and no one man could repair what it once was, but he could contain the fatal, drastic implosion of an object that was meant to endure forever, fractured into more and more peices.

Why is this important?

Because it leaves a world where Feyre Archeron- twenty-ish, romantic hero, prop, prisoner- becomes High Lady in her own, true right.

(I don't think she's necessarily good at this job, because why would she be? It's not even her fault- Feyre has no idea about how faery politics work, no real tangible knowledge of her own inherited kingdom.)

But both the men who stole her and defined her and loved her and hurt her are dead.

And it not only sets her on a journey to become, on her own, an actual character in her own life, but it galvanizes the Archeron sisters.

Feyre's basically fucking comatose after the battle. Elain has been a mess this entire time, but after that last fight with Grayson, walking into the war and stabbing a king in the throat- she is as vital and herself as Nesta has seen her in years.

Nesta just watched her father die and felt nothing- and she hates herself for it. She and Elain had taken the head of the man who stole everything from them- and she doesn't have a single regret.

Feyre screamed until she could no longer- there's so much magic seething out her it hurts to look at-

There's a dark well inside herself that could rise. But why should Nesta let it? So what, if she doesn't mourn her father? He'd never cared about her and Elain- not when they were young, too busy and important to even speak to his own children. Not when they lost everything, and he'd tried one last time to sell them both into marriages to recoup the family loss. Not after, in the starving cold, no matter what she'd tried to force him into action.

Nesta had been mourning all along a human girls human life- what is an absent, neglectful, shitty in the most ordinary of ways human parent if not a part of that lost future?

Their sister owns a fucking country- their sister is, at this minute so hemmed in by her followers no one can see her, much less comfort her- there's a war camp falling apart around them- there's Nesta, Elain, and Azriel, unhurt, upright, alive.

(she does not let herself think that an hour before she'd been ready to die and thought it right, the ending the meant to be conclusion of her story. she does not think about how she'd wished Cassian healed beneath her hands and that he had healed, that she'd wept to learn she could do more than destroy.

that she'd still been weeping, her mouth bright with his blood, when he'd pulled away, dragged himself to Morrigan's waiting arms)

Nesta Archeron is alive. Her sisters are alive. They're free, and she'll be fucking damned if this all falls apart before Feyre can heal.

Nesta turns to Azriel and asks if he can take control of the legions.

She has no time for his blank, angry eyes- she knows he's hurt, he's mourning, he's lost- but she needs him. Cassian's...down. Rhys is dead. Feyre and Morrigan are not coming out of that tent.

And he just listens. Thoughtfully. Asks what Nesta intends to do.

And Nesta looks at Elain- soft, kind, gentle Elain who'd never once wavered now when life was on the line. Who hadn't cried a tear for their father, or for the man who'd kidnapped and then married their baby sister.

The danger wasn't over- and neither had the steel faded from Elain's spine.

Nesta tells Azriel she's going to find Keir.

Nesta isn't blind- she's walked the Hewn City, spoken to the eldest darkness. She was also at the joke of a Summit- Autumn wants new territory, Keir wants to rule Night. And here Night is, weakened, a lamb to slaughter.

Nesta's not going to lose again- she's not going to give these ancient, cruel lords another chance.

Elain grabbed her hand and squeezed- the one person, always, who Nesta never need explain herself to.

Aren't the High Fae technically Morrigan's Elain asked, a bare whisper as they walked through the camp.

It went without saying yes, but Nesta had never seen any indication they respected her enough to listen to her. She made a face, and Elain made one right back, rueful. She had eyes too, after all.

They're not going to listen to us in these clothes, Elain also told her.

She was right, of course. They were High Fae, and that mattered to those vile pricks, but they'd been outfitted for flight. She would do almost anything, actually, to be free of leather pants.

Which Elain, a gleam in her eye that Nesta was learning meant magic, dreamy and happy- led her precisely to a gold topped tent, stepped inside, bowed, and asked without a trace of hesitation if Helion Spellcleaver, Lord of Day, would perhaps do them the favor of loaning them some garments.

Solid gold eyes gleaming against blood and smoke tinged dark skin, beautiful, glorious Helion, smiled.

Day-white against Night- but also, Nesta knew, taking care with her crown of a braid, the splatter of blood left on her throat, her mouth, her cheeks like fine paint- white was the color of death.

Elain covered herself completely- shawl wrapped over her hair, tucked around her neck, breathing easier now, in human modesty- but hung from a golden belt that Helion, with the clear air of someone who knew something about seers, had found, metal hammered with stars and flames, was Truthteller, the long blade without a sheathe, black metal swallowing up light.

Keir was easy to find, and in fine form, surrounded by Darkbringers, who looped back behind the sisters the second they were close.

Nesta was not afraid- she'd thrown power into the sky and it had hurt. Not in depth, but because she was still holding on- it wanted out-it wanted to devour-

Elain dipped a flagrantly rude, swallow bob of a curtsey. Nesta didn't even bother- just let Keir hail them, royal family that they were. He liked the sound of his own voice, but he was also clever- they'd come here of their own volition and now they were trapped.

She could smell the reinforcements, the utter Autumn reek.

Nesta interrupted, and asked Keir to come and swear fealty to her sister.

It was never going to get the right answer, but it had to be said. It had to be heard.

She'd been right- they'd been right- Keir enjoyed the cruelty of getting close to Nesta, denying straight to her Archeron face that no, Rhysand's bloodline was ended. It was time, it was right, for the House of Truth to once more hold their throne.

He spoke his treason aloud, looming over Nesta- close enough to touch.

So Nesta did.

She'd willed Cassian alive and whole. It was so, so much easier to remember fire, death, drowning, to push and want the revolting man's destruction.

And when he fell, silvered fire that had filled his lungs spilling from his throat, Nesta did not flinch. She looked to the next lieutenant, a frankly indistinguishable golden haired pale-eyed blandly handsome man in black armor, and asked, if he, as the new commander of the Darkbringers, would like to give a different answer.

He did.

Azriel met them halfway back to Feyre, grim mouth flickering for a second at the sight of Elain, before looking, stone-faced, at Nesta beside her, leading a crowd of the highest ranked Night Court faeries she could find.

Keir? He asked.

Dead, Elain answered, and that was that.

The Shadowsinger fell in step with the Seer, a threatening shadow to two pale beacons.

It was Azriel who actually went inside the tent. Who said what needed to said, what made Morrigan splutter loudly enough to be heard outside, before she burst out the tent in a whorl of hair, before blanching.

Nesta had just enough control not to roll her eyes. They come to swear fealty.

And Morrigan, chewing her lip with all the dignity of a child- Elain and Nesta had been trained out of such gestures at eight, what did she think was happening here? - shook her head. She's not well, it can wait.

No, Azriel said, from behind her, it can't.

He was supporting what looked like the entirety of Feyre's weight. Dead-white, blue eyes a blaze, Feyre looked blearily out at all of them like she recognized no one.

Elain, treasure that she was, came forward to take her sister's other hand, whispering both condolence and explanation.

And so the High Houses of Night knelt in battlefield mud, and swore eternal loyalty to the youngest Archeron.

It was only after they were gone that Nesta hugged her sister- hard enough Feyre protested, a fresh batch of tears soaking Nesta's shoulder even before Elain joined them.

It's Azriel, voice a little less like a phantom, who tells Feyre they're handling things. That if she wants to rest more, that's fine.

She was so clearly shattered- Nesta half wondered how much of that Azriel can literally feel/hear with his shadow...things.

Feyre protests that there's things to do- Feyre makes it halfway through a sentence about plans before she says Rhysand's name like he's still alive and collapses in on herself like a wave crashing.

Nesta and Elain tuck Feyre back into the blanket pile. Nesta manages to kiss her forehead before Morrigan is there, hugging Feyre putting herself bodily between the sisters.

They leave, and outside, Azriel is waiting.

To hand Nesta a gaudy, enormous platinum ring. The seal of the Night Court- Nesta recognizes it from shipping manifests, but she'd never actually seen it as an adult. Here, as a faery.

Her thoughts on Azriel's powers hold true, as he answers the dismay: Rhys only used it when he had to. It had passed between the whole Court of Dreams hands, there had not been a vizier, a lord of stars, since the time of Rhysand's father.

Nesta puts on the hideous ring, barely flinching at the brush of magic, it resizing to her hand.

Elain grasps her other, squeezing, and asks Azriel who is next.

They work ceaselessly, pausing only to sleep. Azriel, Nesta is quite sure, isn't sleeping at all- until she goes looking for him with a question and finds him finally, finally out cold, face tucked in Lucien Vanserra's neck.

In silence and gestures, they come to something of an agreement- and when the Night Court comes to the table to talk peace, it's with Lucien. Jurian, who Nesta immediately liked.

By the time they return to the North, there is not a Lord one who does not know the names and nightmarish qualities of all three Archeron sisters.

Feyre mourns, and learns to govern slow. Cassian goes back to Illyria and does not return for a long, long time. Morrigan becomes Feyre's second- Nesta laughs, not altogether kind, when Lucien tells her this. No one has been able to answer her as to why, if Morrigan is so powerful, why did she not fight? what does she actually do?

What answers to her questions she does find are appalling. Why does Winter block our every turn? oh, Rhysand killed more than a dozen children. Why is Summer refusing our trade? Well, Rhysand stole their ancestral pride. Why is the Hewn City so wrathful at even the slightest form of intervention? Because Rhysand had left Keir to rule alone.

Nesta doesn't want to rule the fucking court. She thinks she could leave all of these politicians to rot- but she won't let Feyre misstep her way to death, shouldering a burden of her dead mate.

There's nothing they can give Winter but apology and so that's what Nesta does. On her knees, in a gilded palace of ice, stars caught in her hair and the seal on her. Kallias, bright and young, seems to know something about inherited problems- he does not ever forget, but he forgives, at least, the Archerons.

Summer is more complicated- but Nesta does what she can. Gives them every melted, ruined piece of the Book. Offers reparations for the next millennia. Ends up paying for what she is appalled and embarrassed to learn is a two hundred year old debt for a building the head of the Night Court's armed forces- Cassian, fucking Cassian the ghost haunting Nesta- had destroyed. During a brawl. At a solstice party.

She deals only with Cressieda, and they come to understand each other very well.

Nesta was not raised for politics and bullshit- her mother wanted her to marry a crown, but Nesta wanted the family empire. Trade. The Archeron legacy, denied to a girl. She likes Summer more than any place in Prythian, and she doesn't hide that. She relearns old lessons of tide and routes in secret, before Cressieda reveals that of course, she knows who the Archerons were.

It goes well, until Morrigan finds out what she's been doing, and tells Feyre.

The youngest Archeron had been doing better. Morrigan has been right by her side, through everything. Cassian is in Illyria, and Feyre understands why, writing him letters. She writes letters to Rhys too, if only to have a way to direct the words.

Azriel, spectral and busy she sees the least of, but Feyre never doubts his presence, keeping her safe. Elain comes, drags her out into sunlight, brings Lucien and it makes Feyre happy to see them together. Nesta comes too, with them both and alone, with papers from Feyre to sign, with affection sharp-edged but true.

Feyre knows she owes them all more than can be said- she's not stupid, she knows they're keeping Night together. That slowly those responsibilities will fall to her, when she's ready.

She does not think about how much of those responsibilities is cleaning up the tangled mess of betrayal Rhysand left behind. In her head, there is only Rhys- beloved and shadowed, kind and tortured.

Until Morrigan tells her that it's been acknowledged, in public, by Night, that Rhysand was a thief, and a murder of children.

Feyre loses her shit.

Rhysand had done what he had to. Who was Nesta, to say such things? She'd always hated Rhys. Rhys had always hated her, maybe he was right- the children. Rhys had mourned them in screaming nightmares, but he hadn't hurt them-

(Feyre does not stop to think it strange, that Rhys could have nightmares of memories not his own. That he might have fractured just a bit, under Amarantha. That the Red Lady had no daemati- that was why she'd kept Rhys all along.)

The fight is as ugly as can be imagined. And what proceeds is of course, worse. Feyre says terrible things she will ultimately regret and apologize for, but what becomes clear is that Morrigan thinks that Nesta means to hold power forever.

That she's taken advantage.

And Cassian, called home by rage, believes her.

That is, more than her ungrateful sister, more than the ongoing weight of cleaning up after a man she despised for good reason, the end of Nesta Archeron's Night Court career.

She'd thought she loved him- she'd been willing to die with him- but they'd lived. This was the life, the next life, and what did he think of her? That Nesta was a power hungry snob. That she was paying too much heed to politics.

That Nesta belonged quietly at home. That she should have learned to fight somewhere along that way- a point so convoluted it made Lucien laugh- that she hadn't learned anything that mattered.

That she had no right to kill Keir, because it had hurt Morrigan.

Had he ever, Nesta would wonder later, even liked her? Enjoyed anything about her but for that magical tether, telling him he was blessed with something special?

Nesta was something special, and she knew it.

And so she returned the ring to Azriel, packed up her possessions, and left.

First to Day, where Elain had bought a house. Fury and tears both met the explanation of what happened- fury and tears that turned to getting inadvisably drunk in sunlight, when Lucien and Azriel snuck away to join them.

For the first time in Nesta's adult life, she had no obligations. Magic, money, freedom- the whole world was out there.

She stopped wearing black. Learned pants where actually lovely, when they fit correctly and weren't made of leather. Learned Azriel could laugh, and Lucien was as clever as she'd always thought.

She read books, she ate fruit, she took Helion up on several of his more lascivious offers.

She thought of Cassian, and it ached, but not enough to go backward.

Elain's house was by the sea, right on the water. The scent of salt reminded Nesta of Summer- but also of her oldest, most secret dreams. The warehouses of goods, like mysteries to solve. The account books she stole, learning by candlelight the trade in her blood.

Ten years after the war, Nesta bought a ship.

She set out to be a merchant, use what she knew, but what happened was this: Nesta Archeron did not care anymore for rules. And so when she came upon Hybernian remnants-for they were an island kingdom, even more one with the water than Prythian- pillaging a Summer town, she destroyed them.

She stole their treasure, gave much of it back to the people.

Found, unexpected, that she had much more of a taste for marauding than she would have expected. There was still trade of course- proft made and shared- but Summer needed someone willing to do some destroying out on the sea.

Twelve years after the war, Nesta Archeron became a privateer under the Summer flag, pearls in her hair and a true smile on her lips.

Things grew, as all things do. Feyre wrestled herself the reins of government, stymied by the councils Nesta and Azriel set up as much as she often was by Azriel himself out of truly petulant action. Morrigan remained second, golden blades bright as her gowns within reach. Cassian became a sort of seneschal, reigning over Illyria in Feyre's name cold and alone as the wind through the mountains.

(Feyre thought he might never get over the war, but Azriel knew the truth.)

Elain took herself wherever the future led, a sort of mediator and councilor, walking in all Courts- but always back to home, that isolated green, green cove, where Nesta would land.

When war came again, there was no great Lordly alliance, no cut-throat summit. There was a fleet of ships whose sails where edged in purple, whose announcement across the water was silver fire, whose accompaniment were monsters of old.

Violence did not touch Prythians human shore, because Nesta Archeron did not let it.

She was death on the tide, and she remembered what shores had borne her.

She had a home in Summer, a place in Day, her family across the continent- she had her ships, full of faeries from every walk of life, who wanted as she did the freedom as much as the profit, the endless, endless blue, where sea meets sky.

It was eternity, and the Archeron sisters, free, had made it their own.

#i'm sorry this is literally a novel #but!!!#this is my dream plot actually #all about legacy and complicated feelings #the total failure of cassian as a partner #of rhys as a ruler #of feyre as a sister!!#there's so much love in the end but its not easy love #and they do have to fight for it #Nesta Archeron has always been exactly who she is and that shouldn't have to change #Elain has never GOTTEN to be who she is and that should change #Feyre standing alone is all i want yall #a true overturning of the patriarchy actually #yes this a luzreil universe #Elain...mhmm.... definitely just has a string a very romantic love affairs #marriage as a prospect caused her so much pain #she's done #I feel like Mor comes off almost too badly in this #but like #she would??#she's SO possessive of her people #and totally weird about Feyre's sister's from the start #Nesta having power?#Nesta having Azriel's backing?#NESTA BEING CASSIAN'S MATE?#its never going to go well

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333sth · 3 years

Text

dove. (frankie morales)

chapter i. previous.

pairing: frankie morales x ofc (’dove’) no use of y/n.

warnings: mention of ptsd/military service, language, violence, brief mention of torture/kidnapping, injury detail, fighting.

summary: frankie was going to propose, until dove found the ring and ghosted. even santi can’t track her down.

rating: mature. wc: 1.6k

Dove was a nickname coined by an old general during her training. He was a traditional man, though not disrespectful. It was a term of endearment that probably softened the influx of powerful women breaching into the male territory. He’d drawled, ‘I ought to call you Dove – I ain’t never seen a girl so swift, yet so fuckin’ lethal.’ She kept the boys in line too, he’d noted. When Benny got too reckless, or Tom’s temper ran away with him, she was the first to snap them out of it. In environments where peace was a very distant concept, she played the peacekeeper.

One time, during a two-month deployment in Nigeria, the group was shoved in the back of an ancient pick-up truck for six hours. Dove was wedged between Will and Frankie, sweltering in the humid air. The stale smell of sweat mixed with blood and diesel was permeating the air, and they were three hours from the nearest checkpoint. To pass the time, she asked them what they’d do if they weren’t special forces.

That was easy for Will – he’d be a teacher of some kind. Benny waffled about sports, making some brash comment about how he’s got to channel all his aggression somewhere. Tom and Santi couldn’t come up with anything that suited them more than the forces, which was not surprising. Frankie would still be a pilot somehow. Dove had never seen him more comfortable than in the pilot’s chair.

Dove dreamed of owning her own bar or café, somewhere relaxed and laid-back. A beach perhaps, somewhere quaint and peaceful, where the air is warm well into the late evening and the waves are gentle, collapsing onto the sand like white noise. She imagined the hum of conversation meeting tinkling music, beach lanterns dotted around the decking to cast an ambient glow beneath the stars. Maybe a chef on weekends could make bar snacks. Tom had snorted at that, throwing a jab about how she can burn the water they use to make their dried food sachets.

The men had recalled this conversation, desperately trying to fathom where Dove might have taken off to. It was met with an aching nostalgia for the type of teammate she was too. That conversation had been a tactic, a peaceful one, to prevent the terrible concoction of adrenaline, exhaustion and heat forming an argument in that truck. She was a natural tactician as well as a good friend.

Frankie had recounted each country they had been stationed and exactly how Dove had felt about them. She had loved Argentina, even when she got shot and Will spent three hours with his finger crammed in the wound to stop the bleeding. But she also liked Jamaica, Brazil and Hawaii. None of their contacts in the forces had any trace of her, not even Santi’s in South America. Her family were none the wiser – they brushed it off, her dad mumbling something about it sounding like her usual antics.

All he had was a scribbled note that read, ‘I need space. I’m safe. I love you.’ It was folded neatly in his wallet, like he was carrying the last piece of her that he had.

Mexico. That was where she was. A small town on the West coast that had enough life to keep her occupied, and the guarantee of anonymity.

If people asked, she was a retired nurse, which wasn’t entirely untrue. She told them she spent a lot of her career in humanitarian aid, to explain the occasional jitters on a rowdy Friday night and the nasty scars. There was a particularly gruesome one leading from the base of her throat up to her bottom lip from a knife fight. She told them it was shrapnel, flung from a collapsing building, and she was lucky it didn’t catch her jugular. The locals had gasped in awe at her heroism. She’d flinched against the memory of how her own knife buried into her attacker’s throat instead.

A few days into her move, Dove had found what could only be considered a derelict shed on the beachfront. It was probably the remains of an old boathouse. With some help from the locals, she had restored the ageing planks of wood. What was spare formed the bar and some rustic furniture. She pieced together a jumble of second-hand bar stools, chairs and lanterns that made for an eclectic combination. It had character and history in its walls, rather than some swanky, expensive build devoid of any personality. It was exactly what she had dreamed of, huddled in hypothermic temperatures or insomniac in her cot at base, sleep beyond her reach.

It didn’t change the fact that every time she entered her bedroom, the old polaroid of Frankie pinned to the wall hits her like a ton of bricks. Frankie knows she took it – it was pinned to the fridge at their home before she left. It’s quintessential Frankie, sat with his arms folded to his chest, biceps straining slightly against an old denim shirt that was getting a little too snug post-retirement. It was at a barbecue, his skin tanned and flushed from a day in the sun drinking, tousled hair peeking out from the sides of a dog-eared cap. Every time Dove glances at it, she wonders if he still has that hat.

‘Of course he has,’ the voice in her head snaps back. Any piece of clothing she’d suggest replacing would be countered with, ‘over my dead body’. The man was sentimental, a little too attached to his home comforts. She’d also bought it him in a seedy gift shop in the middle of nowhere as a joke.

“To add some variety,” she’d said. He would never let it go now.

Once, Veronica had eyed the photograph on her mirror and asked, “Who is he then? An ex?”

Veronica, or Roni for short, had lived in the town her whole life until university. When she graduated and moved home to save money, she needed a job. Dove needed a friend, so she took her on as a bartender. She was young and giddy, but harmless. More importantly, she was too self-absorbed to notice or even care that her thirty-something year old boss had bullet holes in her back.

“Something like that.” Dove had replied, rifling through her sorry excuse for a makeup bag. She’d closed the bar early to have a rare night off in the next town over, which had considerably livelier nightlife.

“You never talk about relationships. Or men.’ Roni observed, peering over Dove’s shoulder to eye another photograph. It was a group picture of the boys, huddled in the same fraying booth in their favourite bar back in Florida. “Looks like you were spoilt for choice.”

Dove scoffed, meeting her friend’s twinkling gaze in the mirror. “Shut your mouth. They were friends from work.”

“Were? Does that mean you can’t set me up now?”

“They’re almost twice your age. You’d tire ‘em out.” Dove set down the lip-gloss she dragged out for special occasions. “Come on, I’m not getting any younger either. It’s already passed my bedtime.”

Thankfully, that was enough to amuse the younger girl into linking her arm and hauling her out the door to the taxi, no more questions asked.

The hollering of spectators and thudding of skin slapping against the mat was reduced to a distant buzzing in Frankie’s ears. It was dimmed by the incessant ramblings of Santiago and Tom, discussing the files Santi had put together on Lorea. He could feel the reawakening of his rusty military senses as he follows the familiar tactics, mentally registering his agreement or noting what he might do differently. He doesn’t vocalise it though, because he hasn’t even agreed yet. Joining the debate would inadvertently signal his agreement. He didn’t want that.

There was a shadow lingering in the space on the bench beside him. It was an empty presence, not Will, who was hooked on the cage of the ring yelling encouragement to his brother. Not Benny, thumping his leather gloves together with his teeth pulled harshly over his mouthguard, judging his competitor with a predatory glint in his eye.

The opponent was a monster, but he lumbered like his limbs were filled with lead. Frankie notes that Benny, nimble and tall, will have a breeze tiring him out. Dove would have joked that it wasn’t worth coming, that they’ll be sat here until their asses are numb watching Benny play cat and mouse. His chest twinges. Sometimes it’s too easy to remember what she’d do, what she’d say. He wished he knew what she’d make of Santiago’s proposition. She always saw through Pope’s glamourisation and Tom’s greed.

What Frankie misses while he observes his pitiful surroundings is Tom and Santi descending into a hushed conversation. Tom nudges Santi, “You got anything on Dove?”

Santi sighs, long and solemn, “Maybe.” As Tom’s face quirks in interest, he holds up his finger, “It’s just a hunch.”

“A hunch is better than what we’ve had in the last year.”

Santi takes a sip of his beer, casting a glance at Fish, whose eyes are trained on the floor and the swirling contents of his cup. He knows him well enough to know his thoughts are the only thing that have his attention.

“I worry about him. We all do.” Tom whispers. “Getting busted just made things worse.”

“Don’t get his hopes up, man. It’s nothing solid. It’ll crush him if I’m wrong.” Tom nods solemnly before Santi continues, “A friend of mine saw an ex-Delta in a bar, a woman. He knew ‘cause of a tattoo she had on the nape of her neck.”

Tom’s eyes widen. In front of them, Benny lands a sickening punch on his opponent’s nose, complimented by an audible crack. He’s barely breaking a sweat, dancing around as the guy heaves and stumbles forward.

Santi’s gaze doesn’t break from the ring. “Mexico. I think she’s in Mexico.”

#Frankie Morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier imagine #frankie morales imagine #triple frontier fic #francisco morales #Triple Frontier #frankie catfish morales #Frankie morales fic #Frankie Morales x OFC #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #benny miller #will miller #Santiago Garcia #santiago pope garcia #ben miller #dove fic

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arts-and-drafts · 3 years

Text

Reconnaissance (Hermit Tommy AU)

(hooo boy here comes the start of a very long project, in which wrongs try to be righted in more worlds than one. This is a slight continuation of the fic Vulnerable, so maybe check that out of you're confused. Enjoy!)

TW: Death

Legend has it that the End connects all worlds.

There is countless spawns, countless new worlds created every second, but there is only one End. The End connects all threads of the wide, wide universe, and if you go far enough, you can see the start of other civilizations on pale islands farther out than the fabled badlands. If you go far enough, if you traverse the End more than any have before, you can start to see beginnings.

Xisuma knows this is all talk. But all legends start in truth. The End is where the admin begins his search.

He's surprised to find Tommy's old world very quickly.

There are few worlds that are completely closed off from the End, and of those few only one is still actively inhabited.

The Dream SMP. The name can't be a coincidence.

Xisuma turns to the world's history now, the hardest part of locating the world now over. It's then that Xisuma learns the best news; the world is regularly open to MCC, and that means a way in.

He tells only Tango of his plan, prepares him for the worst. If Xisuma leaves and doesn't return, Hermitcraft won't have an admin, and the world will die. It would be irresponsible to leave with that much responsibility on his shoulders, but Xisuma would not ask any of his hermits to go in his place, and he reminds Tango firmly of this when the mod protests his decision.

Xisuma spends the next month teaching Tango how to take up the mantle of admin while Xisuma is gone, and before the night of MCC he relinquishes the power in its entirety to his closest confidant. The transfer of administrator leaves both Xisuma and Tango out of commission for quite a while, Xisuma's body struggling through the sudden withdrawal of magic and Tango's attempting to adjust to the influx of power that came too quickly for him to process.

Xisuma departs while Tango rests, leaving the unsure promise of return in his wake in a book and quill before he steps through the portal to MCC.

Xisuma knows where to go. The portal to the Dream SMP has been reignited since the scare last time, and the former admin easily slips through the gateway during the hubbub of the event.

xisumavoid joined the game

<FoolishG> o/

<Ranboo> who

<ItsFundy> wait what

<xisumavoid> Hello. Do any of you know a Dream?

<awesamdude> Who are you?

Xisuma stared at his communicator screen. He chose to not disclose his reasoning for his arrival, on edge because of Tommy's state he was in when he found Hermitcraft. These people could be extremely dangerous.

<xisumavoid> I'm Xisuma, I'm not going to stay long. I just need to speak with Dream. This is his world, correct?

Silence.

Xisuma nervously tucked his communicator away. This world had set him on edge enough; his ability of perception was not as heightened as it used to be since his admin abilities were passed over, but he could still feel that the magic of this world was strained and warped.

The magic of Hermitcraft that he was used to felt light, warm, like a summer breeze on a perfect day, with small snaps of explosive energy that came from volatile and powerful players all in one space. It was generally pleasant.

This world felt...dull. Dull and stretched out too far, as if there wasn't enough magic to go around. What little there was felt tainted somehow, wrong in a way that Xisuma could not describe.

It was suffocating. Xisuma wanted to be out of there as quickly as he could.

The former admin looked around, cringing slightly at the awful mess of cobblestone and dirt and wood planks that made up a wall all around spawn. Besides the crude structure, spawn was abandoned and uninhabited.

Odd.

Xisuma chose not to dwell on it too much, and turned to a crack in the wall where he could leave the box.

He ventured out to a forest of spruce, nothing to be seen for 10 chunks in every direction. All that was in Xisuma's render distance was untouched trees.

The hermit tried his communicator again.

<xisumavoid> Where is everyone? There are no structures close to spawn. Can someone offer coordinates?

"Why are you here." Came a voice in response. Xisuma jumped out of his skin, whipping around so fast he nearly fell off the wall.

A creeper hybrid stood a few blocks from him, clad in ornate golden armor that Xisuma could tell was imbued with enchanted netherite. The look on his face was as cold and intimidating as his netherite sword clutched firmly in one of his paws.

"Uh--hello! I'm here to see Dream." Xisuma replied warily. "What's your name?"

"Sam." The hybrid offered bluntly. "And I can't let you see him."

A flicker of confusion disrupted the growing unease in Xisuma's mind. "I'm unarmed, I promise-"

"It's not for him." Sam cut him off, and Xisuma swallowed his words.

"...I don't understand." Xisuma said, getting the feeling that his wariness of the new server was not nearly enough as it should be. It was then that the hermit noticed Sam deflate, only barely, but enough for Xisuma to see that the hybrid was crushed with guilt.

"...He killed the last person that tried to talk to him." Sam explained lowly. Xisuma blinked. "For your safety and the server's, I can't let you see him. I don't know you, and I don't know if you're here to break him out."

"I'm not worried about dying, I--why is it a big deal?" Xisuma asked carefully. Sam's head snapped up to stare at him with hollow eyes, sending a shiver down the hermit's spine despite how close he was with Doc.

"...It was his last life." Sam said, slowly and deliberately, speaking as if it was terrible taboo to utter the words.

"You can't respawn here?" Xisuma asked, his unease pitching. There was respawn magic here, he could feel it, this wasn't a hardcore world.

"We can." Sam explained curtly. "But if we die and it's important, it's...that's it. We only get three lives."

Sam then looked down, and Xisuma noticed how tired the hybrid suddenly seemed. His paw clenched the hilt of his sword so tight that it shook in his grip.

"Tubbo only had one left." Sam muttered thickly, his voice full of regret and bitterness. Xisuma's stomach dropped.

"...Tubbo is dead?" The hermit realized, slowly. Sam looked up, his eyes now very suspicious as he looked Xisuma over again.

"Who are you? Why are you talking like you know Tubbo and Dream?" Sam interrogated, lifting his blade. Xisuma didn't even blink, his mind fuzzy with the static of shock and disbelief. Tubbo...was dead.

"I...came here for Tommy." Xisuma answered distantly. "He...I wanted to bring Tubbo back to him."

The color drained from Sam's face, but in Xisuma's state he really didn't have the energy to process the look of shock.

"Tommy's alive?"

"Tango, look into my eyes, only my eyes."

"No, nope." Tango jerked away from Keralis's hypnotizing stare. "Nice try."

"Tango," Keralis said again, his voice a disappointed purr. He really was laying it on thick. "I just want to know where Shishwammy is."

"He's doing important admin stuff, I told you!" Tango said, his bark having no real bite. Xisuma instructed him exactly; no one was to know where he went. X didn't want any of his hermits to follow him into that world of destruction.

Tango kept it locked, just as he promised, but Keralis was making it so difficult.

"Look, Keralis, I'm really tired. Can I please go back to resting." Tango tried. Keralis's huge eyes stared through him for a couple seconds, but then the hermit visibly backed off. Tango breathed a sigh of relief.

"...Get well soon, sweetface." Keralis hummed reluctantly, turning and shooting out the opening to Toon Towers. Tango watched his silhouette get smaller and smaller on the horizon before turning back to his bed.

What he told Keralis wasn't a lie. His bones felt like they'd been individually hit by a ravager from all the magic that now flowed through him. The humming of every life force in Hermitcraft had been giving him a nonstop headache.

He'd definitely gained more respect for Xisuma's role in their world after experiencing what that truly meant, but he always worryingly came back to the reason the power was given to him in the first place.

It'd been radio silence from Xisuma's end since he left for the SMP, but Tango could still feel his life force pulling at his mind, distantly. It was a very odd sensation, but knowing his friend was still alive and connected to Hermitcraft gave him comfort.

Still. Tango was out of his element, and he hoped Xisuma would return as soon as possible.

Splashing sounds of water gradually became louder and louder to Tango, making him throw an arm over his face in annoyance. He just wanted to sleep, void's sake.

"Tango, my friend! How are you, big man!" A punch to the arm startled Tango into nearly falling out of bed, Tommy's signature loud 'pah-HAH' following his scrambling attempt to get upright.

"Oh, shut up!" Tango said, a traitorous smile growing on his face while Tommy giggled.

"What do you want, Tommy." Tango sighed exaggeratedly. Tommy shuffled in place, a poorly hidden look of mischief in his eyes.

"...You have any TNT?" Tommy reached, and Tango pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course. "What for."

"I wanna scare Zedaph when he goes to bed with an explosion noise!" Tommy grinned, all coyness instantly abandoned. Tango locked eyes with the excited kid.

"Tommy, get your shulker boxes." Tango ordered, and Tommy gave a cheer, bolting for the ender chest in the corner. "All right! Gonna do fucked up shit, we're wrongens!"

"Hey, no swearing in front of the kids." Tango chastised goodnaturedly, prepared to say "you" when Tommy asked what children were around.

The question never came. Tango turned away from digging through his chests of gunpowder to check if Tommy had heard him, all humor fading away when he noticed the kid frozen in place looking down at the contents of his ender chest.

"Tom?" Tango asked, approaching with enough speed to not startle the boy. He peered over Tommy's head when there was no response, and found what looked to be a lodestone compass gripped in Tommy's scarred hand.

"...Tommy?" Tango tried again, hesitantly laying a hand on the kid's shoulder. "What's up?"

"It's." Tommy choked, and Tango tensed in alarm when he noticed tears threatening the boy's eyes. "It's not moving-"

"What?" Tango asked, and a stake was driven right through his chest when Tommy looked up with the most crushing expression of despair Tango has ever seen in his life.

"Tubbo's--" Tommy's face screwed up, the tears finally falling. He turned back to the still compass, caving in on himself to press it to his chest. A pitiful, grueling wail grew in the boy's throat, and Tango's eyes widened as he put the pieces together all at once.

That was a soul compass, and it was still. Whoever was on the other end was still as well.

Tommy's best friend was dead.

#to be continued :)c #reconnaissance #hermit tommy au #hermitcraft fic #dream smp fic #meraki post

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imekitty · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Vlad and Jack get stuck in an elevator together and thanks to security cameras Vlad can't use his powers to leave nor finally kill Jack. Tensions rise thanks to Jack's happy and oblivious attitude causing Vlad to explode at him and spill everything he's bottled up the last 20 years

I can't promise this is good.

-----

Vlad checked his watch as the elevator he was in began its descent. Only three o’clock, still plenty of daylight left for his other errands.

The elevator stopped and opened. Vlad walked out but froze when he caught sight of someone in the lobby, someone huge and tall and wearing an orange jumpsuit.

Shit.

Vlad walked back into the elevator.

“Vladdy! Hey!” yelled Jack behind him.

Vlad pretended not to hear him and pressed the button for the highest floor. Maybe he would just fly out of the building once he lost Jack.

“Hey, hold that for me, V-man!”

Jack was moving quicker in his direction now. Vlad jabbed the “close doors” button and watched the doors glide toward each other.

Jack began running. Vlad watched the doors close, almost, almost—

Jack’s massive gloved hand jammed between the doors. With a grunt, he forcibly pushed one of the doors back, metal scratching against metal. Vlad narrowed his eyes.

The elevator shuddered as Jack stepped inside. Vlad gave him a perfunctory smile.

“That was close,” said Jack. “Almost didn’t make it.”

“How unfortunate that would’ve been,” said Vlad through his teeth.

“Oh, can you press 3 for me, Vladdy?”

Jack beamed at him with that stupid oblivious grin he always wore. Vlad pushed 3 and also 2 for himself. The elevator doors did not close. Vlad pressed the “close doors” button. After another pause, the doors closed with an unpleasant grinding noise.

“So what are you doing here?” Jack held up a packet of papers. “I just need to get some things notarized at the bank here.”

“I’m here for meetings,” said Vlad, trying to sound cheerful.

“Yeah? Mayoral meetings?”

“Oh, I won’t bore you with the details.”

The elevator began moving up.

“Well, Mads and I are both really proud of all the great things you’re doing for our town.”

Jack grinned again. Vlad did not doubt his sincerity.

“So you’re here on your own?” asked Vlad. “Maddie did not join you?”

“No, she asked me to—”

The elevator shook and lurched up a couple feet before jolting to a stop. Vlad felt his balance shift as his legs stumbled. Jack grabbed hold of his arm.

“I got you, V-man. You good?”

Vlad wrenched his arm free and stood tall, straightening his tie. “I’m fine.”

Jack looked around at the walls surrounding them. “The elevator’s stopped.”

“It has indeed,” said Vlad.

Jack pressed a few buttons on the control panel. Nothing responded, no movement. “Definitely stuck.”

“Seems that way.”

“But someone will fix it soon.” Jack nodded. “We’ll be out of here in no time.”

Vlad looked up at the camera in the corner of the room and sighed. Even if Jack weren’t here, he wouldn’t be able to phase out. Not without finding where the security footage was kept and destroying it.

“I’m thankfully not in a rush. I’ve got plenty of time to get this done.” Jack stretched out his arms. “But what about your meetings? Are you gonna be late?”

“Hmm? Oh.” Vlad shook his head. “No, it’ll be fine.”

“I guess the mayor is allowed to be late for whatever he wants, huh?”

Vlad forced a curt half smile.

“But maybe we can call the front desk and ask if they’re getting someone to fix it.” Jack pulled out his phone and tapped the screen before raising the phone to his ear. “Hi there, we are in your elevator and it seems to be stuck. It’s not going anywhere. Do you have someone to fix it? Yeah? All right, well, we’ll just wait here, then.” Jack ended the call. “They’ve called maintenance. They should have us moving in a jiffy.”

“Good to hear,” said Vlad.

“So.” Jack switched his packet of papers from one arm to the other. “What should we do?”

“Do? What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean, I said they’d have us moving in a jiffy, but I was exaggerating.”

“Really? Were you now?”

“Yeah! So we’ve got some time to kill. This is a good chance for us to talk!”

“Talk?”

“Yeah!”

Vlad looked from one side of the elevator to the other. “Talk about what?”

“Anything! We don’t really get to talk anymore. I miss our college days, don’t you?”

“Do I?” muttered Vlad.

“Back when we used to goof around, crash frat parties.”

“I think it was you doing most of the goofing around. And we had to crash them because we were never invited.”

“Yeah, and I never understood why. We were so cool!”

“It was probably due to your incessant blathering about ghosts.”

“Ah, yeah.” Jack looked at the ceiling and smiled. “I really miss when we used to stay up late at the university lab. Like when we worked on that proto-portal. Remember that? Weren’t those fun times?”

Vlad shook his head. “No, actually. I don’t miss that at all.”

The two fell quiet for a moment.

“You know.” Jack flicked through the documents in his hands with a thumb. “You never told us what happened exactly.”

“What do you mean?” asked Vlad, weary.

“With the proto-portal. When it zapped you in the face?”

“Oh. That.” Vlad shrugged. “What about it?”

“Well, I mean, what happened with that?”

“It zapped me in the face, like you said. You were there. You saw.”

“Yeah, I know, but what happened after that?” Jack frowned. “Maddie and I never heard from you again. Not until the college reunion a couple years ago.”

“I was a little busy being hospitalized and nearly dying,” said Vlad dully.

“Yeah, we heard,” said Jack. “And we tried to get in touch with you, but we couldn’t find which hospital you were at.”

“I didn’t want anyone to find me.”

“But even us? Even me?”

“Especially you.”

Jack’s frown deepened. “But we were best friends, weren’t we?”

“I might’ve described us that way in the past, yes.”

“What does that mean?”

Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.

“I was really worried about you, Vlad.”

“Worried?” Vlad scoffed. “Really?”

“Of course I was. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You weren’t worried about making sure you put ecto-purifier and not diet soda in the proto-portal’s filtration system,” said Vlad. “You weren’t worried about making sure I was out of the way before turning it on.”

Jack sucked his teeth. “Yeah, I was a little trigger happy, but I was just excited. Weren’t you?”

“I was not excited about getting blasted in the face with soda-infused ectoplasmic energy that burrowed in my skin and tore it up, no.”

“Was it really that bad?”

Vlad folded his arms. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

Jack nodded. “Okay. Well, maybe we can get coffee sometime or meet somewhere more comfortable—”

“No, I mean I don’t want to talk about this with you. Ever.”

“But why—”

“Because it was your fault!”

Jack shrank away from him.

“You were careless and selfish and destroyed my life,” roared Vlad. “I was in horrific pain and everyone who saw me stared at me like I was some freak. And I almost died. I wanted to die sometimes. Couldn’t even look at myself in a mirror.”

Jack tightened his hold on his documents and looked down at the floor.

“You never think before you do anything. You’re reckless and oafish and that hasn’t changed at all.” Vlad thrust his hand toward the elevator door. “Just look at what you did to the elevator!”

Jack looked at the door. “I didn’t—”

“Yes, you did,” spat Vlad. “You forced the door open and now it’s broken and we’re stuck in here. Because that’s what you do, you destroy and ruin things for other people.”

“But I didn’t want to miss seeing you.” Jack’s voice had a small whine. “I don’t get to see you enough, Vladdy.”

“Right, of course. You were thinking about yourself again. You broke the elevator because you wanted to see me. Just like you zapped me in the face because you didn’t want to wait any longer to try out the proto-portal.”

“Vladdy, please—”

“Don’t call me that. We’re adults now.” Vlad paused. “Or at least I am.”

He looked up at the camera and pursed his lips. With his arms folded, he clenched his fists, knuckles cracking.

Jack did not speak for some time. Vlad could only hope he would keep shut up until the elevator started working again.

“I am sorry, you know.”

Vlad rolled his eyes. Of course he couldn’t possibly expect Jack to stay quiet for long.

“I really didn’t know that would happen,” said Jack. “I didn’t even see what happened to you until it was too late.”

Vlad scoffed.

“I just thought we were on the brink of something incredible,” said Jack. “And I didn’t want to wait anymore.”

Vlad lowered his gaze to the floor.

“We were on the brink of something incredible,” he said softly. “I wanted it as well.”

Jack side-eyed him but Vlad kept his head down.

“And I suppose…” Vlad shrugged. “I know I couldn’t have done it on my own. Not without you. And Maddie. Probably more so without Maddie.”

Jack hummed amusement but said nothing.

“But you were the one who got me into all this,” said Vlad. “Ghosts, I mean.”

Vlad recalled Jack’s nonstop yammering about ghosts that kept him up at night when he really needed to be doing his homework instead. Yammering that at first annoyed him but began intriguing him, challenging what he thought he knew, pulling him into a new direction to explore the supernatural.

And allowing him to meet the first woman in a long time who had actually smiled at him. A woman he would have followed anywhere, into the Ghost Zone and wherever else she wanted to go.

“None of what I have now would’ve happened without you,” said Vlad. “Not that I’m about to thank you for any of it.”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me either,” said Jack.

“And I don’t,” said Vlad. He blew out a sharp puff past his lips. “But at least things turned out almost okay for me.”

“Almost?” said Jack. “What isn’t okay for you now? Something I can help with?”

Vlad wondered what Maddie was doing right at that moment. How he wished he could have gotten stuck in this elevator with her instead.

“No,” said Vlad.

The elevator shook and restarted its ascent. Jack grinned up at the ceiling.

“Hey, they fixed it!” he exclaimed.

Vlad also looked up but said nothing.

The elevator doors opened. Vlad had no idea what floor it was but knew he was getting off anyway. He stepped past the threshold.

“Vlad. Hey.” Jack stepped out with him.

“The bank isn’t on this floor,” said Vlad curtly.

“Yeah, I know,” said Jack as the elevator doors closed behind them. “I think I’m gonna take the stairs the rest of the way.”

Vlad raised his brows before huffing and shaking his head. “I have things to do.” He started walking away.

“Vlad.”

Vlad turned back to him. “What is it, Jack?”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “You have my number, right? If you ever want to talk about anything. Maybe whatever it is that isn’t okay for you right now.”

Vlad chewed the inside of his cheek and crossed his arms, remembering the failed hits he had put on Jack, how the only thing that kept him from killing Jack in that elevator was a surveillance camera.

“You really still think of me as a friend, don’t you?” said Vlad.

Jack blinked. “Well. Yeah. Don’t you?”

Vlad studied his face for several long seconds before smiling.

“Of course,” said Vlad.

Jack smiled back, looking relieved. Vlad’s facial muscles cramped as he kept up his own smile.

“Please give my best to your lovely wife,” said Vlad. “I really must go now.”

He turned and walked away at a brisk pace, balling a fist against his chest out of Jack’s sight.

#danny phantom #vlad masters #jack fenton #imekitty writes #prompt writing #chaosblade7 #proofread once

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