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thecreativesophie · 7 months ago

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Verses of Persistence

For my final creative project, I have decided to write a series of poems. My inspiration was the motto written on Temple's campus, "Perseverance Concurs," and my own journeys as a nontraditional student, having to retake courses and experiencing other moments of adversity in my life. I am also fascinated by the concept of the indomitable human spirit and hope to capture that in my work.

In my poems, I explore a range of experiences—from the sparks of initial determination in "The Spark Within" to the grinding, day-to-day battles depicted in "Forge Ahead." I touch on both the solitude of personal struggle in "The Unseen Flame" and the shared burdens and eventual relief found in "Bridges Over Troubled Water."

"Paths Repeated" and "Against the Current" highlight the sometimes cyclical nature of challenges, emphasizing that setbacks are not failures but part of the path toward growth. "Mountains Within" shifts the perspective inward, suggesting that the greatest barriers to success are often the doubts and fears we harbor inside.

In "Echoes of Effort" and "Resilience," I attempt to honor the quiet, often overlooked moments of decision and the breakthroughs that define the perseverance journey. The concluding poem, "Conquered Realms," encapsulates the essence of what it means to conquer—not external foes, but one's inner turmoil and despair, transforming them into wisdom and peace.

While these are my intended messages, I recognize anyone may take anything from these, and I am interested to hear what these poems mean to all of you. Most of all, I hope you enjoy.

The Spark Within

In the quiet corners of night's deep shadow, where doubt seeds sprout in whispering rows, there lies a spark—not seen, but felt— a tiny star in a dense, dark belt.

This ember of will, this flicker of spirit, endures the winds, so cold, so austerely; it dances alive, though hidden from view, fuelled by the trials it’s destined to subdue.

Each challenge faced, each failure met, are kindling gathered, on fire set. The flames surge high, then low, then high, a testament that spirits never truly die.

For in the marrow of every weary bone, amidst the echo of every stifled moan, burns the unwavering desire to prevail— a light undoused by the fiercest gale.

And so it thrives, through tempest and through trial, this indomitable force, neither meek nor mild. A beacon that burns, relentless, within, urging the heart to strive, to win.

Paths Repeated

Footprints fade on trodden trails, paths repeated in the vale— where once I stumbled, now I stride, upon these loops of trials tried.

In the echoes of my steps, linger lessons of missteps; each falter taught, each slip confessed, in every fall, a future blessed.

The road retaken speaks of grit, not of failure, nor of quit. A testament to steadfast will, climbing steadfast, higher still.

For wisdom lies in routes rerun, in courses charted, re-begun. What once seemed endless, cyclic plight, now guides me forth in renewed light.

Beneath the canopy of time’s repeat, new strength is found, and hope replete. Each journey back through what was known carves deeper grooves where light has shone.

Against the Current

Against the torrent, harsh and cold, the waters fierce with stories old, I swim upstream, a path alone, fighting tides like hardened stone.

The current claws with chilling grip, against my skin, a biting whip. Yet forward I press, through froth and foam, where weaker wills might cease to roam.

In relentless push, I find my pace, in every stroke, a small embrace of hopes that buoy me through the rush, of dreams undrowned by river's crush.

For upstream lies the source, the peak, the place where rivers dare to speak of beginnings pure, untamed, unspent, from which all waters are descent.

So with each pull against the flow, within my heart, a fire aglow. It’s not defiance fuels my fight, but love for paths bathed in right light.

And though this journey marks me sore, each scar a badge of all I bore, onward I swim, with spirit fierce, my course by stars of destiny pierced.

Mountains Within

Mountains loom in mindscape's mist, Formidable in their silent call, Each peak, a story of a clenched fist, And the silent roar after a fall.

I tread paths wrapped in stony skin, Where echoes dance in hollow winds, My breath—a vapor thin and worn, From lungs of dreams yet to be born.

These heights, they whisper ancient tales, Of those who've walked before and bled, Their footprints left in rocky trails, Their spirits steep where I now tread.

Climbing, climbing, never cease, Each step a stitch in pain's release, The summit far, obscured by clouds, Yet each ascent, silently vowed.

Within these climbs, the heart finds beat, Stronger than the rock beneath my feet, And with each peak, my soul's own plinth, Forged in the fires of the mountains within.

For every mountain stood, every summit kissed, Reveals the vastness of the grit I enlist, Not just to conquer peaks that rise, But to own the mountains within, where true triumph lies.

Echoes of Effort

In the quiet corners of the striving heart, Echoes of effort resonate, part by part. Each pulse, a drumbeat in a silent war, A rhythm that stirs the core to explore.

In sweat-soaked echoes, the whispers rise, From depths where dormant courage lies. They speak in tones only the soul understands, Murmuring of trials faced with shaking hands.

The whispers grow louder with each new test, As resilience builds its enduring nest. In the realm where echoes blend and bend, The spirit's mettle meets its transcend.

Efforts, like stones thrown into vast lakes, Ripple outwards, each wave overtakes The calm, the still, the formerly placid— Transforming the quiet into vibrant vivid.

For every echo returns to its source, Carrying tales of an unyielding force. Each reverberation a testament, pure and deft, To the indelible marks of steps hard-left.

And when the night folds heavy, dark, and deep, When body lies down with shadows to keep, The heart slows, and the echoes meld Into dreams of battles bravely quelled.

Here, in the echoes of efforts past, Lie the seeds of victories, vast. In each echo, an infinite story unfurls— Of perseverance conquering, echoing through worlds.

Bridges Over Troubled Water

In the fabric of a tempest tossed, Where waters rage and lines are crossed, There stand bridges, old and worn, Over troubled waters, sworn.

Built by hands that knew the ache Of loss, and the strength that stakes A claim on futures yet unwon, Underneath the unforgiving sun.

Each plank, a story, a battle faced, Each cable, a bond, not easily erased. They arch across the churning fears, Weathering storms of a thousand years.

These bridges are legacies of the brave, Spanning dark waters with the hope they gave. For every soul that ever dared To reach the other side, prepared.

We walk these bridges, step by step, In the echoes of those who never slept. Their dreams cast long shadows in the mist, Guiding us through climes unmissed.

For troubled waters will always be, But so will the bridges that set us free. They stand not just in stone and wire, But in every heart that dares aspire.

Through trials that toss, through swells that sweep, The bridges we build are the ones we keep. Over waters that threaten to drown the fire, We build our bridges, ever higher.

So let the waters rise, let the tempests roar, Our bridges span to an open door. On foundations strong of those before, We cross to shores worth fighting for.

Resilience

In the hush of a twilight dim, Beneath the heavy clouds' brim, Stood a figure, cloaked in doubts, Amidst the life's brutal bouts.

For long, the road wound, tight and steep, Through canyons cut so wide and deep, Echoing with the cries of strife, A solitary, endless fight.

This figure, cast in sorrow’s mold, Bore burdens of stories untold. Each step a testament to pain, Each breath a whisper of strain.

But there, where shadows grew and merged, Upon despair's very verge, A flicker—a light within that fought, Igniting thoughts long sought.

"Enough," a voice within her broke, A spark amidst the enveloping smoke, Her spirit, coiled like a spring, Unleashed the force of everything.

Walls she built from past defeats, Now crumbled at her very feet. The air, once thick with fear's embrace, Cleared as truth took its place.

With hands that trembled, yet were sure, She reached for what felt so pure; A freedom that comes from within, Breaking chains that long had been.

The ground beneath her firm, at last, As if anchoring her to the past, Yet pushing her to realms anew, Where skies take on a brighter hue.

There she stood, no longer frail, Not merely a survivor’s tale. But a force, fierce with might, Forged in depths, brought to light.

The night receded, dawn’s gold spread, New paths appeared where she tread. From the fight, the fear, the fall, Rose a might to conquer all.

For resilience is not merely to endure, But to face the storm and secure, A life rebuilt on stronger ground, Where once lost, now is found.

The Unseen Flame

In the quiet corners of the unlit room, Where shadows loom larger than the moon's soft bloom, Burns a flame unseen, with a gentle hiss, A testament to the silent battles, amiss.

No grand stages here, nor applauding crowds, Just the flicker of light, veiled by silent shrouds. Yet within these walls, the world is shaped, By quiet decisions, in the nightscapes draped.

The clock ticks on, relentless, in its pace, While thoughts race wild, in a tireless chase. Each moment a crossroad, each choice a path, Crafting destinies with a quiet wrath.

The scholar's lamp burns deep into the night, Casting golden circles, a lonely sight. Words on a page, theories taking flight, A mind wrestling shadows into light.

The artist, too, keeps the vigil’s peace, Before the canvas, where all turmoils cease. Brush strokes that dance in the silent air, Creating visions from sheer despair.

And in the weary hours, before the dawn, When the world's asleep, and the night is drawn, The unseen warriors make their stand, Not with weapons, but with trembling hands.

They fight not for glory, nor for fame, But for the whispering call of their own name, To rise from ashes, to find their way, To greet with courage the coming day.

For in this silent forge, away from sight, Is tempered the will, with gentle might. The unseen flame, though quiet it seems, Is the forge of more than just dreams.

It is here, in the silence of the long night’s hold, That the truest forms of courage unfold. Invisible, yes, but oh, so keen— The fiercest fire the world has never seen.

Forge Ahead

In the heart of the forge, under ember’s glow, Where the fire burns fierce and the bellows blow, Stands the blacksmith with his iron clasp, Gripped by tongs that hold it fast.

Hammer raised, eyes narrowed tight, Focused solely on the transformative fight, Each strike a lesson, each spark that flies, A symbol of the sweat that from his brow dries.

The iron, once brittle and cold as stone, Now bends and twists, its purpose newly shown. He molds it with might, with the strength of his arm, Forging through fire, shielded from harm.

The anvil rings—a choir’s call, Echoing around the stone-cold hall. "Forge ahead!" it sings, with each hammer’s pound, "Shape the future, where hope is found!"

Through the sweat of his brow, the ache in his back, The blacksmith labors to keep his life on track. Each pounding strike stretches iron thin, Turning what was weak into strength within.

He knows the secret, as all craftsmen do, That resilience is born in the struggle to pursue. Not just in the ease of a gentle flame, But through the fire that claims no shame.

So, forge ahead, through doubts that sear, Through the heat that exhausts, yet makes visions clear. Bend not to the strain, nor cool under pressure, But become the steel, a true heart’s treasure.

Forge ahead, though the fires roar, In the blistering heat, refine your core. For only through trials, as the blacksmith shows, Does the strength of steel—and of spirit—grow.

Conquered Realms

In the quietude that follows the storm's roar, A stillness settles, deep and core. Here, in the hush, let us wander and gaze At conquered realms, through the lingering haze.

Not kingdoms of land, nor treasures of gold, But territories of spirit, vast and bold. Realms where every hard-fought day Carved pathways through jungles of disarray.

Conquering here isn’t the vanquishing of foes, But the planting of gardens where wisdom grows. It's the nurturing of seeds once sown in despair, Now blooming in rows of the earnestly fair.

Each step, each stumble, bore fruit of its own, Lessons learned in the marrow of bone. Where once was naught but unyielding night, Now stars are born from the grit of the fight.

Wisdom—the spoils of the steadfast and true, A tapestry woven with threads of every hue. The richness found in the quiet satisfaction Of having persisted with heartfelt action.

This is what it means to truly conquer, Not the clamor of acclaim, nor to anchor In harbors where praises are sung loud, But in the silent pride of having plowed

Furrows in fields fraught with doubt, To harvest the grains of a life fleshed out. So here we stand, at the end of our climb, The summit of persistence, transcending time.

For conquered realms lie not underfoot, But in the heart, where once only soot Of burned dreams lay in disarray, Now gems of triumph in bright array.

This quiet joy—this treasure trove— Is the realm conquered by those who strove Not for the world, but a peace reclaimed, In the knowing that nothing ventured is nothing gained.

Cheers to the end of the semester!

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cyberpawn-arc · 1 year ago

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“ you’ve been so quiet. what’s on your mind? ” // caesar!

Question Prompts

Vale Entropy can lose themself in thought unlike any other. Even with a partner in their bed, the TV on, and some late night reruns of anime occupying most of the sounds heard in their apartment. While they could get lost in the visuals of bright, flashing lights as the hero and villain engage in making loud poses with suggestive dialogue, it seemed much easier for their brain to drift and focus on things that often times would sneak into every thought they held towards themself or others.

They thought about the future a lot, thought about themself as a future legend. It was a bright future, shining like each star in the endless night sky. There were golden twinkles and twists and turns and roads of yellow brick and cities forged of light and steel. There was no place like home, no city like a city paved with neon and bloodshed. Night City was their home, a safe haven for the lost and reckless like V. Vale would make their name in neon lights, in hallowed alleys, in busy clubs. Vale would make it, but there was a factor their mind held onto.

Caesar. Where would Caesar be in this all? Would he be with Los Piratas even ten, twenty years down the line? Would he be there holding Vale's hand and kissing them after another successful gig? In a land of lab-grown milk and honey, would there be any reason to succeed without Caesar by their side? Was it a dream without him there?

you’ve been so quiet. what’s on your mind?

"Huh?" Vale blinked, eyes refocusing as they stared at Caesar as they cuddled in Vale's cozy bed. Finally catching the question as they buffered their ideas and beliefs. "Oh, uh, sorry! Just...just spacin' out. Thinkin' about the future. 'Bout us! Like...Like what we'll both be doin'! And if we'll still be able to do domestic stuff together."

Shoulders shrugged, shifting the heavy, anxious weight placed on them. "I don't like the idea of a life without you. N-Not in a weird way where I'm mega possessive and we close ourselves and our relationships off! Just...I love you! And I never wanna lose your company here with me, uh...y'know?"

#badtrigger

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welcometonightblogging · 4 years ago

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Taking a break from designing the new Night Vale Rerun logo to post some of these bad boys as I’m apparently behind on the summary posts. I’m gonna miss this little radio.

#WTNV #Welcome to Night Vale #Night Vale Rerun #gif warning

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prettyyoungandbored · 2 years ago

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Normalcy [Steve Harrington]

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve and Y/N are enjoying newlywed life. That is, until, news from back home brings back old anxieties.

Warnings: Cursing, light mentions of sex, anxiety, slight panic attack

NOT MY GIF

Y/N sat on the couch, a hot cup of tea in her hand. The only light in the living room was the television, which played a rerun of some sitcom.

She had come home early and was waiting for the pizza to arrive. She knew she and Steve were in desperate need of a night in. Just the two of them.

The last time they had any peace to themselves was during their honeymoon. They had gotten married six months prior and the second they returned from their honeymoon to their shared apartment in Indianapolis, life had been hectic. Between their respective jobs, friends, and family, it was rare they had some quality alone time.

When they did, they made the most of it.

She poured a glass of wine in the kitchen as she listened to some show that was playing on the television in the living room.

“Baby, I’m home!” Steve called out as the door opened.

She went over to him, greeting him with a kiss and wrapping her arms around his neck. “How was your day?”

“Not too bad, but I was ready to come home. How about you?”

“Same old stuff. I actually managed to sneak away early which was nice.” She rest her forehead against his. “I just couldn’t wait to see you. I’ve been missing you.”

“I’ve been missing you too, hun. More than you know.” He kissed her lips. “How is it that we’re married and live together, but still miss each other?”

“Because life always finds a way to cockblock us.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Cockblock? I thought we were having a nice, quiet night in.”

“Oh I never said anything about being quiet.”

She smirked, pulling back as he went to pull her in. He cradled her face in his hands. “Is that code for getting started on that little family of ours?”

She shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. You have time to persuade me.”

“Challenge accepted.” He pecked her forehead. “I’m gonna take a quick shower.”

“Sounds good! I’ll let you know when the pizza gets here.”

As Steve went into their bedroom, Y/N heard a knock at the door. She went into her purse, grabbing her wallet.

She grabbed the box from the pizza boy and handed him the cash. She closed the door and set the pizza down when the sound of the television caught her attention.

“Tonight, a search is underway in Indiana for a missing teenage girl. Allison Vale disappeared from her small town of Hawkins…”

Y/N’s eyes widened, heart dripping down to her stomach. She rushed over to the living room to see a picture of a teen girl. Just when she was starting to think she was going crazy, she notice the teen girl wearing a Hawkins cheerleader uniform.

“Oh shit,” she mumbled.

“The 16-year-old was last seen leaving the high school after cheerleading practice. Friends of Allison said she turned down a ride home, opting to walk. Her parents said she never came home.”

Waves of deja vu crashed over her. She could feel the thick, humid air of the Upside Down surround her. She could smell its damp maple aura and for a moment.

A woman identified as Allison’s mother appeared on the screen.

“We just want our baby girl back,” she pleaded, shaking. “Give her back. GIVE HER BACK!”

“Hawkins has made headlines in the past, for incidents many called paranormal-.”

Y/N shut off the tv and sighed. Her heart raced as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She wiped her eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

“It’s ok,” she whispered to herself.

She eyed the phone, debating whether or not to call Will. Maybe he felt something? She couldn’t bring herself to move. Who was she to burden him?

Maybe she could call Hopper. He would know, surely he would. Still, she couldn’t move.

“You ok?”

She let out a gasp, Steve’s voice knocking her out of her thoughts. She put a hand on her chest, letting out a passable chuckle.

“Sorry, I got lost in my own thoughts,” she replied.

She couldn’t burden him with it. Not now.

And yet, she couldn’t sleep. So here she was, sitting on the couch. It wasn’t for a lack of trying. She tried her damndest to focus on the night and for the most part, it worked. They had dinner, had wine, enjoyed each other’s company, had sex - the night was great.

But the second the lights were off and Steve fell asleep, she was back to her thoughts. No matter how hard she tried, her mind wouldn’t shut off.

She considered waking Steve, but knew he needed the rest. So, she put on Steve’s hoodie, slid on some underwear, and made her way to the kitchen to make some tea before settling into the couch.

She eyed the frame hanging on the wall. On one side was a photo of her and Steve at their senior prom, the other side was a photo of them on their wedding day.

They had come so far. They worked out their shared traumas of the Upside Down. They built a new life together. They were settling down, considering having a baby.

All that progress, just to go back?

“Baby?”

She looked up to see Steve coming out of their bedroom, his eyes filled with sleep. He was wearing sweatpants “What’re you doing out here?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

He sat on the couch and pulled her to his lap so she could nestle her head on his shoulder. He grabbed the remote and turned off the television.

“You’ve been a little bit off since I’ve got out of the shower,” he told her. “I wasn’t gonna say anything, ‘cause I saw you were really trying to hide it, but now you’re scaring me. Talk to me.”

She sighed and rubbed her face. “I saw on the news a teenage girl in Hawkins went missing and it…I just…”

Hot tears stung her eyes as she wiped the ones tried that tried to escape.

“You were triggered,” Steve nodded. “I get it.”

She shook her head. “Yeah, but…the way they were talking about her, how she went missing. I mean, this is how it all starts. She walked home and…”

Her chest grew heavy, throat closing in. “What if he’s back? What if the Upside Down got reopened? I thought we killed him. I thought it was over.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I was there. I swore we did too.”

He rest his forehead against hers. “I heard about it earlier today. Some guys at the office were talking about it. I called Hopper and he said no one really knows what the situation is, but he, Joyce, and Murray are keeping their eyes peeled. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to stress you out. I wanted to wait until I had some idea of what was going on.”

“It’s ok, Steve,” she assured. “I considered calling Hopper too. I also considered calling Will, but after what he’s been through I couldn’t bring myself to stress him out.”

“Probably for the best,” he agreed. “Look, it may not be related. It could honestly be a kid went missing because she ran away or was kidnapped.”

“That’s what they said about Will and Barb,” she reminded him.

He nodded, sighing. “I know.”

She pulled back her lips. “While we’re on the topic of things we were afraid to tell each other, every time we talk about having a baby…I keep thinking, ‘What if we have a baby and something happens and they need us?’ What do we do then? What do we do? Drop the baby off at my parents and say, ‘Can you watch our kid? We have to go deal with monsters and shit.’ I mean, Steve, say it comes back when we have a baby. There’s a bigger risk than our lives. We risk our child losing one of us or both us.”

Steve nodded his head, closing his eyes. “I think about that too and it scares the shit out of me.”

He opened his eyes. “But I also know you and I know how to handle it. We’ve done this before and if we have to do it to protect our child, we will.”

“We’re not teenagers with nothing to lose,” she reminded him.

“You’re right, but back then I had a lot to lose.”

“Like what?”

“You.”

Her cheeks warmed as she felt a small smile play on her lips.

“The first time, I wanted to survive to be with you.” He pointed to their prom picture. “The second time, I wanted to survive so we could go to prom together and graduate together. The third time, I wanted to survive to because I wanted to you go to college and give you the future you always deserved. The fourth time, I wanted to survive to run away from that God awful town with you. The fifth time, I wanted to survive because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I went in ready to fight for you, for us, for this life we’re building.”

Her tears of anxiety turned into tears of love. “I fought for you too. I fought for us.”

“I know you did,” he said, smiling warmly at her. “And if we have to do this a sixth time, I say we fight to survive for our future child.”

She nodded, her anxieties washed away by reassurance. “I love you.”

“I love you too. That’s why I married you.”

She cackled. “Is that the only reason?”

He shrugged. “There were other factors I considered.”

She gently punched his arm and he kissed the top of her nose. “Hey, promise me next time we don’t hide this from each other? That goes for me too.”

“Agreed.”

He kissed her lips before giving her squeeze. “Let’s go back to bed, yeah? When we get up we’ll grab breakfast across the street.”

“Works for me.”

He got up, carrying her bridal style as she swung her arms around his neck

But just as they reached the doorway, their home phone rang.

#steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #joe keery #Stranger Things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic

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lqufeyson · 3 years ago

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this might be my first tag game (at least for a very long time)! thanks a bunch to @marcgrant for tagging me 💙

three ships: i haven’t been invested in ships for ages so i don’t really have any!

first ever ship: god this is embarrassing to admit but probably dan and phil

last song: keep driving by harry styles has taken over my life completely

last film: caught a spiderman: into the spider-verse rerun the other night while working on a project 🕸️

currently reading: i’m VERY slowly getting through the first welcome to night vale book

currently watching: i’m trying to finally catch up on the defenders shows now that they’re on disney+ ! picked up daredevil right where i had left off :)

currently consuming: well for dinner i made a ham and cheese panini, but content-wise it’s been a whole lot of harry’s house 🏠

currently craving: my motivation back, a true sense of self, cereal sounds pretty good too. i’m also beside myself with eagerness to start my internship

alrighty! so, with that, i’m gonna tag some new mutuals i already love: @catholicdaredevil , @treasureofmy-heart, but of course i gotta include the bestie @spectors-moon as well ! no pressure if you’re not feeling it, of course 🌌

#tagged <3

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thousand-winters · 7 months ago

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"I hope you can all enjoy it by spending some time with your families too, whatever that looks like for you. Even if that just means yourself."

This made me cry for some reason.

#welcome to night vale #wtnv #welcome to night vale spoilers #wtnv spoilers #247 - rerun

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xwing-baby · 4 years ago

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Impulse: Part 1 (Javier Pena x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ��placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Pena as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: ANGST! Explicit drug and alcohol abuse from the beginning, depressive thinking/intrusive thoughts, swearing

Word Count: 4.8k

A/n: My first ever Javi fic, of course I had to make it the angstiest thing I’ve written in a long time!! This is part one of the first part of the story which is also the end of the story... just had to make it confusing for you.

Disclaimer: I do not have any experience with cocaine or addiction, all writing is based on my own research and is not a good representation of how it really is! Don’t do coke kids, it’s never good.

Part 2

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Four in the morning, the sun was just above the horizon and you were stumbling home from yet another party. Enough tequila swam through your system that you didn’t really think about the wellbeing of your neighbor when you tapped on his door. You wanted to keep going. Javier, you decided, would make the perfect company. And maybe you could continue that kiss you had not stopped thinking about since it happened four months ago! You grinned devilishly at the thought and knocked harder on the door.

“Javi! Javier!” You rapped on the door. “Javier Peña, abra la puerta!” You sang, leaning all your weight on the door as your world span fast around you, “Javi,”

“What?” Javier opened the door suddenly, causing you to fall into him. You laughed as you caught yourself on his arm. You had woken him up, he was dressed in a wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants with his hair bushy and wild.

“Hola!” You grinned up at him, not hiding the way you checked him out. You were obviously drunk and high, eyes red and shining brightly even in the dim light of the apartment block hallway. Javi wrinkled his nose as the smell of you hitting him, tequila and cigar smoke clung to you.

“Again?” Javi sighed heavily. This was the third time this week you had woken him up, accidentally or on purpose, coming home drunk. He was starting to worry about you.

“Si,” You grinned from ear to ear, You were in more of a state than last time. For one you were still speaking Spanish, something Javi had rarely ever heard you speak. You must have been with your local friends, he surmised. “No lo siento Javi. ¡Es divertido!”

“It’s not fun, you’re a mess. Get in here,” He pulled you by the arm into his apartment, shutting the door behind him.

“Eres enojado?” You asked, still grinning. You walked backwards into his apartment, tripping down the step and landing with a thud on his leather couch. You cackled with laughter.Javier frowned and put his hands on his hips, of course he was annoyed at you! It was four in the morning and you both had work the next morning. You dramatically flopped back on his couch and huffed at his grumpy attitude, “It’s only polite, Javi! They gave it to me!”

“It’s poison!! He exclaimed, “Why would you do that to yourself?”

“It’s helping,” You proclaimed.

“It’s not helping anyone, you’re gunna fuck up sooner or later.” Javi warned, as he had done many times before.

“I got that list,” You protested, “That was helpful!”

“And what will you do when they work out that you stole it?”

“No lo sé,” You shrugged. You reached into your pocket and grabbed the last of the coke you had been given. You wanted a little more. You pulled the tin out of your pocket and placed it on the coffee table at your feet.

“You-,” Javi started before he noticed what you were doing, instantly he was on you, “Para!” He exclaimed as he snatched the coke from your hand before you had time to open it.

“Necesito!” You whined, pouting at him. You were lying, you didn’t need it. You wanted it, a lot.

“No,” Javi snapped.

“Lo siento, Javi,” You pleaded with him, eyes locked onto the packet in his hand.

“You’re not though, are you? Fucking look at me!” He yelled. You startled and looked up at him as tears pricked your eyes. “Quit it. Now. You know what this shit does, stop it. Whatever you think you’re doing is not worth it, okay?”

“Pero-“

“No. Me vale!” He cut you off. “You’re better than this, Y/n,”

You sustained eye contact for a moment. The room was deathly quiet, he glared at you with fierce intensity. You had never seen him so angry, if you weren’t so drunk you would have instantly buckled under the pressure. The only thing your drunk brain could think of was how hot he looked, you wondered how rough he would be with you if he was this angry. You couldn’t help the snigger that crept up in your throat at that thought. You clamped your hand over your mouth to stop the laugh, Javi rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry!” You laughed, “It’s just you can’t look at me like that and not fuck me!”

“Jesus christ,” Javier pinched the bridge of his nose. What little patience he had for you was running out fast. You continued to laugh.

“Can I stay here?” You asked.

“Take the couch,” Javi waved you off, his back turned heading back to his bedroom.

“I can’t sleep with you?” Your voice was laced with innuendo, he knew what you wanted. A part of him was tempted, your dress left very little to the imagination, but he knew he couldn’t do it.

“You’re drunk and high,” Javier said plainly, “and we’ve spoken about this before. No,” He was firm with you. He hated having to reject you for a second time but he wasn’t a complete monster. He wouldn’t sleep with you in this state.

“Worth a try,” You laughed, thankfully giving up quickly. Javi shook his head and walked away again, “Muchos gracias, Javi,” You called after him. He shut the door.

You woke up as the early morning sunlight pushed through the windows. You groaned and turned over, finding you were not in your bed but on a couch. Startled, you sat up and nearly screamed when you recognised the apartment as Javier’s. Luckily you were still fully dressed with your shoes still on, nothing had happened. Memories of how you got there were blurry, you remembered knocking on his door but had blacked out after that.

The clock on the wall said it was six am. You could go upstairs to your own bed clean up and hope that maybe Javi wouldn’t hear you and confront you about it.

You stood up from the couch, trying not to think about all the things the man had done on it, and grabbed your jacket from the ground. As you stood up the strength of your hangover kicked in, you grumbled. That was when you noticed the discarded coke packet on the counter. You stopped. You knew you shouldn’t pick it up, you didn’t need it. But the taste caught at the back of your throat and you found yourself wanting it. It was undeniably addictive, you had promised yourself you wouldn’t take it this far but the foul substance had made its bed.

“Go home,” Javi’s voice broke you out of the trance. He was only wearing sweatpants, hair mussed up from sleep that you had most definitely disturbed more than once. He pulled the cocaine off the table and threw it into the trash before you could reach it. You gulped, shame rising like hot steam through your lungs. You grabbed your things and left, running straight upstairs to your own apartment.

It was still early but you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep again. Shame was swirling up in your throat. How ironic that a DEA agent was addicted to the thing she was meant to be stopping? But you weren’t addicted, you reasoned with yourself, you were fine. This was no different to when you lived off Redbull for a month during finals, it was a matter of changing some coping mechanisms. It was a reaction to the stress of being so close to Escobar yet so still so far. You could change it, you had control.

You made a coffee, instant and black. It was bitter and disgusting but it would keep you awake. You collapsed onto your tired old couch and flicked on the tv to a telenovela rerun. You barely understood what was going on but the hilarious overplayed drama was light enough to stop you swimming into the depressing pool of thoughts currently threatening to drown you.

Eight o’clock came and you were ready to go to work. You were used to this routine now, hungover and tired, you knew you weren’t at your best but until this morning nobody knew about your slow descent into chaos. You weren’t surprised to find Javi’s truck gone without you. All you could remember from last night as how mad he was, and his face this morning only proved it. You dreaded seeing him.

Luckily, you were spared the hassle of public transport by Steve who trundled down the stairs after you and offered you a ride. The conversation was light and everything seemed normal for a moment. You got to work, Steve ran off after a call from Javier leaving you with a mountain of paperwork to hunt through. For once you didn’t care, paperwork didn’t judge you.

A few hours passed and the boys returned. You did your best to ignore them while they bickered, hoping that you could melt into the background, until someone tapped on your desk.

“Hey, I’m talking to you Rookie,” Javi’s voice made you look up. “Come on, we’re going,”

Before you could say anything he threw your jacket at you and you had no choice but to follow him outside. You tried to rack your brain for why Javi would be taking you anywhere today, especially after this morning. You had expected him to ground you, to be impossibly angry at you, not take you out. You climbed into the passenger seat of the truck and Javi didn’t say a word. He didn’t look particularly angry, he looked stressed but he had looked like that since the day you got down here. He was silent, letting the radio play between you, when all of a sudden he reached over and turned it off.

You looked over at him, expecting him to start his lecture but he didn’t. He let the silence sit between you for the rest of the journey. Somehow it was worse, you’d rather he got mad at you and shouted. It was just unsettling.

Finally you pulled into the embassy, you flashed your badges at the gate and parked. Fear was starting to grow now. Was he going to get you fired? He wouldn’t bring you down here for that surely? He would have called and said what he wanted, he hated coming down here unless he had to. You stayed quiet, too scared to ask, and followed him inside.

Javi greeted the assistant at the door, as smooth as ever somehow managing to melt her in her chair in five seconds. You smiled and waved to her, she scowled at you as soon as Javi had turned his back.

“He’ll be in a minute,” The girl called after you as you entered the Ambassador’s office. You took one chair, Javier took the other, in front of the large mahogany desk.

Unlike Steve and Javi you didn’t see the ambassador often, often left in the office while they had meetings about things higher than your post. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest you thought it might burst. You rubbed your hands on your jeans and fidgeted in your seat. Why in hell were you here?

Before you could bring up the courage to finally ask Javi the Ambassador walking into the room. You stood up immediately to shake his hand, Javi stayed seated.

“Y/n, nice to see you again,” The ambassador smiled kindly as he shook your hand. “Agent Peña,” He greeted the agent next to you, who nodded casually.

“You too, Sir,” You tried your best to sound confident. The Ambassador sighed heavily as he sat in the leather chair, took a sip of the water at his side and began the meeting.

“So, I got the call from your coordinators this morning, they’re coming down on Monday for the review. I thought we should have this meeting together to discuss things before they come down,”

Your six month review! That was what you had forgotten. Half relieved that your mentor hadn’t brought you down here to completely humiliate you, you smiled and nodded. With everything going on you hadn’t noticed the months fly past so fast, you barely remembered what day it was anymore.

The Ambassador carried on with the meeting, unaware of your panicking. You nodded along, answering his questions in short yes or no answers, he then moved to Javier. As your mentor he was the one in charge of delivering your progress onto your coordinators. You watched him speak, sound not registering anymore. You hoped to god that he wouldn’t throw you under the bus and tell the entire truth, he knew how much this meant to you surely he wouldn’t.

Nervous, you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jacket. You almost had a heart attack when you felt something inside. A small metal tin, rounded and rusted. You immediately knew what it was and froze. There was coke in your pocket. Javi gave you a sideways glance, as he noticed you stiffen up suddenly.

You wracked your mind for where the hell the tin had come from, until you remembered. This wasn’t your jacket, Maria had given it to you a few months ago and never asked for it back. You hadn’t worn it before today and had no idea that your friend’s stash lay inside the pockets. You tried to stay rational, tried to listen to the important conversation happening around you but your hand stayed clamped around the drug in your pocket. It would help you concentrate, it could calm you down. You could take it and nobody would notice.

“I- I’m sorry can you excuse me for a moment?” You blurted out, interrupting the ambassador. He frowned at you, surprised by your interruption. You had gone white with panic, obviously clutching at something in your pocket but he didn’t think anything of it. He nodded and you ran out the room before he could verbally release you.

You tried to remain calm as you ran through the halls of the embassy, it seemed like everyone was watching you. They knew exactly what you were doing, they were judging you. You ran into the first women’s bathroom you could find, quickly checked nobody was in any stalls, and locked the door behind you.

Throwing the package on the sink like it was burning through your hand, you stood over it, watching it intensely like it could jump away at any moment. The voice in your head kept tempting you, calling you weak and useless, to do it to get rid of it. Nobody would know if you took it. You’ve given in this far why not do it. It will help you calm down. Take it.

As if you were possessed, you unwillingly opened the tin and poured the powder onto the surface. There wasn’t much there, barely a pinch full, hardly anything at all. You couldn’t just leave it there now, someone would definitely know it was yours. They all knew why even bother hiding it anyway. You should take it. You were too weak to resist it. Take it.

And you did. The chemical shot straight to your brain giving you the brilliant feeling you had been missing. You sighed in a relief as you felt every anxiety fade from your body. It wasn’t that bad, you feel better with it, the voice in your head said. You weren’t wrong. You did feel better. You looked it too, your cheeks had colour again, you smiled and laughed to yourself as it took hold.

You brushed away the excess powder and unlocked the door. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw Javi leaning against the opposite wall. His arms were crossed over his chest, judging you with a cocked eyebrow. He had been waiting for you. You sighed and rolled your eyes immediately walking away from him.

“Don’t stand outside the women's bathroom’s Javi. It's creepy,” You snapped as you passed him.

“You missed a bit,” Javi commented, following closely behind you.

“Fuck off,” You grumbled. Despite yourself you wiped your sleeve over your nose. He was right.

“Shooting up in a bathroom is real low, Rookie, even for you,” He snarled. You continued walking down the hall, ignoring him. You were as angry at your actions as he was but you didn’t have control anymore. You couldn’t stop yourself, “Hey! I’m fucking talking to you,” Javi grabbed your arm and sharply pulled you backwards, pressing your back into the wall and trapping your body between his.

“You’re hurting me!” You complained, shoving him off you with as much force as you could give. It didn’t get you far as he pushed you to the wall again with as much force. Your back slammed against the cold stone hard, no doubt bruising it.

“Then listen. What the fuck is the matter with you?” He snarled, “Doing that shit here? Or anywhere in fact! You are completely out of control,” You ground your teeth, seething with anger, “Do you have no respect for yourself?” You struggled against him, trying to get away again to avoid the question, Javi held you in place. “Not going to say anything?” You looked away, purposely turning your cheek to him, “Get a fucking grip or I’m sending you home,” He growled.

You didn’t answer, staring at the patterned tile floor. Finally he gave up. With a grunt he let you go and stalked away down the corridor.

As he disappeared around the corner, a tidal wave of anger and frustration flooded your system. You kicked the line of chairs next to you, crying out curses as you sent them flying across the corridor. The metal clattered against the stone drawing people out of their offices, they all stood from their doorways and watched you, judging you. You heart hammered in your chest, chest heaving for air and you glared back at them all. You let out a deep breath and turned on your heel, leaving the mess behind you, and walked outside.

Despite himself, Javi had waited for you in the parking lot. You jumped into the passenger seat without a word, slamming the door hard to get your point across. You couldn’t tell if you were sweating from anger or the drugs coursing through you. Neither of you said a word for the journey. Javi had said he needed to, and you weren’t able to string together a coherent sentence for everything you wanted to scream at him yet.

You were too focussed on the music playing from the stereo to really notice where you were going. The rhythms and lyrics seemed to float around you and soak into your skin. You didn’t see Javi’s furious scowl when you unknowingly started to dance in your seat, something you couldn’t help but do when listening to Columbian radio no matter your mental state. You were having a good time until the car stopped and the music was cut abruptly. Snapping out of your trance you looked around and realised you were at your apartment.

“Get out. You’re done for today,” Javi said, his voice was eerily calm and you knew to be terrified. Quiet Javi was always the angriest.

“What?” You asked dumbly.

“Get out!” He leant over you and pushed the door open. You frowned, but slipped out the truck and did as you were told. Javi pulled the door shut behind you and rolled away, leaving you standing on the sidewalk opposite the apartment building completely dumbfounded.

You were stuck to the sidewalk, staring at the building. The sun beat down on you, scorching your skin yet you couldn’t feel it. You were numb to everything.

Your first thought was to find Maria and get more coke to hide further into yourself and avoid the awful shame creeping up your neck. The speed the thought entered your head petrified you. Your control was slipping through your fingers like sand and your body was screaming to move. Everything inside you told you to give up, that this was the tipping point and you might as well jump because what was the point in pretending anymore. If Javi knew what was the point in trying to cover up how much that narcotic had taken over your life. There was no point at all, you might as well enjoy the feeling whilst you could.

You turned to leave, letting go of all self control. Your legs knew where to take you, you didn’t even need to look where you were going. But you did, when three steps from your original position you crashed into a woman carrying a bag of groceries. She yelped, the sudden sound snapping you back to reality.

“What are you doing standing out here? Shouldn’t you be at work?” Connie startled you when she touched you, you had barely noticed her approaching. She frowned, concerned, when she took in your glazed appearance, “Sweetheart?”

“I’m okay,” Your voice cracked as tears filled your eyes.

“Oh darling, come inside. Come on,” Connie walked across the road, expecting you to follow but you didn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, you wanted to run in the opposite direction. You knew if you went inside you would have to tell her what was happening, you didn’t want to make her as mad as Javi was already. “Y/n? Sweetheart you’re scaring me, what’s wrong?”

“I fucked it all up,” You whimpered as you began to cry.

“Come with me, I’ll get you some water,” Connie bartered, still you didn’t move. Too scared to admit to her what was going on, “Just come inside, please,”

Finally, you nodded and followed Connie into the building. She walked you into the apartment, sat you on the couch and left to get a glass of water. You hadn’t stopped crying, everything in you was telling you to go and get more to calm yourself down again. You knew not to believe the thoughts but they scared you tremendously. You have really gone too far now.

Connie passed you the water, and you drank it gladly. She crouched down in front of you, pressed a hand to your forehead and checked your pulse trying to work out what was wrong with you.

“Did you take something?” She asked. You tried to shake your head and deny it but the way she’s looking at you, sternly but with so much care in her eyes, you couldn’t lie to her. Your no turns into a yes and you instantly recoil from her each touch, hiding in your hands. “What was it?”

“It was only meant to help,” You cried into your hands.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened,” She pressed.

“Maria gave me some coke, and it was fine and fun and it helped me get that list from them,” You started to babble, all your words tumbling from your mouth before you could get them into any sensible order, “and everyone was so excited and then I went out kept doing it and then yesterday I ended up at Javi’s and I was tired and-,”

“Slow down,”

“It’s my six month review, and I got so worried then I found it in my pocket! I didn’t know it was there and I just did it! Then Javi caught me again and he kicked me out here!”

“Do you know how much you took?”

“Like a tiny bit but I’ll be fine in an hour but-,” Tears slipped from your eyes once again, “What am I going to do?”

Connie didn’t know what to say. She knew you had been going out more with some new friends, Steve had complained because he was always woken up by you when you came back drunk from a party. That's all she thought was going on, you were partying, drinking, like you should at your age. But as she had come to learn, a lot of things in Columbia were not what they seemed. It seemed the darker side of life here had managed to get it’s claws well and truly into you. It broke her heart to see you like this, so broken up.

You stayed with Connie for the rest of the afternoon, sat on the couch riding out the end of you high. TV kept you company and Connie chewed her nails trying to work out what to do. She thought should call Steve, but if Javier was the one to drop you off here, he probably already knew. She wondered how long it had been going on for, she didn’t get to see you as much as her husband and his partner, whenever she’d seen you you seemed fine, if a little hungover at times. When she thought about, all three of you had taken on destructive habits to cope with the hell you saw every day. Steve was becoming more aggressive by the week, while she knew she was safe she didn’t like what she saw when he flipped out. Everyone in the building knew about Javier’s escapades and now you. It was upsetting to watch from the outside, she couldn’t imagine what it was really like to go through.

You woke up half an hour later, muddled and more tired than when you’d fallen asleep.

“Feeling better?” Connie asked with a sympathetic smile.

“Feel like shit,” You muttered. Your head pounded and the heaviness still sat in your chest. That was the kicker, the coke could mask feelings very well but every time you sobered up they were still there waiting. You sighed heavily, pushing yourself to sit up where you’d slumped over, and rubbed your face with your sweaty palms. “What am I going to do?”

“I don’t know sweetie, but I’ll be here to help you,” Connie said kindly, as she sat on the couch next to you. You felt awful for dragging her into all this, yet another person you had let down, ”I think you should tell your boss? Or you’re coordinators, maybe they’ll help,”

“I’ll be sent home!” You protested, tears filling your eyes once again, “I don’t want to go home, not now!”

“You can’t keep it to yourself, it will only get worse,” She said, you nodded sadly and cried on her shoulder as she pulled you in for a hug. “I suggest a hot bath, watch some cheesy movie- I managed to find that Indiana Jones movie on tape. I know you love Harrison Ford,”

“That sounds nice,” You smiled weakly. Connie let you go and grabbed the movie along with a bottle of wine for you. You gathered yourself together, enough to get yourself from Connie’s couch to your own at least.

“I’m sure Steve won’t notice it’s gone. Go and chill out and watch the movie, have a bit of normality for a change. You’ll feel better I promise,”

“Thank you Connie, you’re a really good friend,”

“It’s no problem sweetie, like I said I’m always here for you,”

Connie gave you another tight squeeze before you left. Iin the hallway you heard the clatter of Javi’s keys in his door below. You wanted to apologise to him, you wanted him to help you! You wanted things to go back to how they were before all this but you knew Javi wouldn’t talk to you. He’d displayed his distaste for the people that fell under the powder’s spell before, he wasn’t going to help. He had trusted you to sort it out yourself but now it was abundantly clear you couldn’t.

Once again your brain reminded you how easy it would be to get some more coke to cheer yourself up. You could go downstairs and walk down the street, find one of your friends and be happy again so quickly. You didn’t have to feel this pain.

This time, you ignored it and locked yourself in your apartment. You took yourself to bed immediately, not even bothering to turn on any lights along the journey through the tiny space. You fell on the bed face first. As soon as your body hit the soft material you curled up as tight as you could and began to cry.

You had failed. You had let your team down, let your coordinators down, let your classmates down and let your family down. You didn’t even want to think about the conversation you would have to have with your mom as to why you were coming home six months early from a placement you fought so hard to get. You thought you could handle it, but you couldn’t. You failed.

Part 2

Translations (disclaimer I'm sorry if these are wrong I've been learning Spanish for all of 3 months hence the limited use)

Abra la puerta - open the door

No lo siento Javi. ¡Es divertido! - I’m not sorry Javi, it’s fun!

Eres enojado - are you angry?

No lo sé - I don’t know

Para!- stop!

Lo siento- I’m sorry

Pero- but

Me vale - I don’t care

The next part will be out next Friday! Want to get tagged? Let me know!

Tag list: @beskar-tano @buckysbeloved @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @browneyes-djarin @themidnightsun-12

gunna be cheeky and tag some mutuals i think may be interested? @ithinkwehitametaphor @wille-zarr

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dannyphantom-rewrite · 3 years ago

Text

About me!

Sam (They/Them Pronouns)

-21 years old

-nonbinary lesbian

-I have severe ADHD. As a result of that I also struggle Depression and Anxiety. These often go hand and hand like the worlds worst Buy One Get Two Free deal, except who the Fuck wants to buy a mental illness?

Anyway, I often make vent posts or leave commentary in the tags of reblogs reflecting this, so I felt some clarification wouldn't be a bad idea.

-I don't have a whole lot going for me rn, but godamn am I trying. I'm currently working on reigning in my mental illness which means I'm jobless and living off my savings right now while I do a shit ton of therapy.

-I've been in the Danny Phantom fandom for about 6 years now, but only recently became active in the fandom sphere. Having been born in 2001, by the time I was old enough to consciously change the channel to nick toons, they were already showing reruns of a cancelled cartoon. So the childhood memories I have of DP are pretty Vague- but there was still enough of that fond nostalgia there to get me to do a rewatch of it in highschool.

-I'm not active in any other fandoms, but I do lurk and occasionally reblog things related to;

-Good Omens (both the book and show)

-The Witcher (the netflix series, though I keep meaning to finish playing the video games and read the books)

-Batman (The animated series is my favorite)

-Venom (The Tom Hardy movies specifically)

-What We Do In The Shadows (Mostly the SFX show, but I saw the original movie too.)

-Gravity falls

-The Owl house

-Flight Rising (feel free to add me as a friend! My username is SRJacksn)

I'm also a huge fan of Audio fiction podcasts, my favorites right now are:

-Archive 81

-the Magnus archives

-welcome to night Vale

-the penumbra podcast (both Juno steel and second citadel)

-wolf 359

-SAYER

I was also working on making my own podcast! If you're into dungeons and dragons and other table top RPGS you can check that out here. (This project has also been put on hold for the time being)

As for the overall status of the rewrite project?

I'm honestly struggling with so much shit IRL rn that it's kinda been put on the back burner

I want to release chapters on a set schedule so my goal is to write out the entirety of "season 1" before actually posting anything.

Suffice to say, it's gonna be awhile before I make any real head way on it.

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spectralscathath · 5 years ago

Text

Queen, Knave, King

fair Game Week, Day 6: Atlas Ball/Mantle Battle

Clover Ebi is in love with a dusty old Qrow. He knows it, Elm knows it, even Robyn knows it.

Let the cards fall where they may.

Ao3 Link

Elm spotted Branwen as he skulked around the edge of the Schnee grounds, snow crunching under his shoes in the silence as his cape fluttered behind him, the cold winds bracing and biting at her cheeks.

She shrugged to herself and walked over, giving Vine a wave to let him know she was going off on her own. He gave her a simple nod back, drawing a smile from her. It was nice to have such simple trust with her close friend.

Most people usually assumed they were a couple, which was something that Elm didn’t mind, exactly, but she knew Vine was as utterly disinterested in romance as she herself was. It just wasn’t something she felt. She’d rather have a close friend to watch her back then a lover, and that was that.

Before Vine had joined the Ace Ops, that friend had been Clover. The two of them had just been specialists that Ironwood kept pairing up, his flexible weapon and clever mind pairing well with her sheer sturdiness and ample strength.

It had been an excellent distraction at first, to apply her Huntress skills again with an entirely new element, and this time with someone who had luck on his side almost all the time. Much less likely he’d go the way of her old team. That had been reassuring.

Somewhere along the line, she’d started feeding him. She couldn’t help it, cooking and baking were just as much in her blood as being a warrior was. Unlike the friendships of team SBLE, formed through four years of battle and school, Clover’s friendship was found over shared meals and stories of a world beyond Atlas.

So, when she’d seen her friend steadily falling head-over-heels for a grumpy spy with a reckless defiance and a dour attitude, of course she knew it was her solemn duty to make sure her friend wasn’t going to get another scar on his ironically unlucky heart.

“Hey! Branwen!” She called out as he migrated from the grounds to striding along the top of the garden wall, steps light and balanced with his hands in his pockets.

He glanced at her and raised a brow, shifting his weight so he didn’t fall as she jogged over. “You after something, Ederne?”

She put a hand on her hip and looked up at his perch, taking another moment to deliberate on her plan of attack. “You know, you’ve been here for ages now and I still haven’t gotten a chance to even talk to you.”

“Been busy,” he drawled, shrugging at her.

“Hanging out with Clover, yes, I’m aware,” she grinned brashly, watching as his hair puffed up a little bit like an actual bird’s.

“What’s it to you?” Oh he got huffy. Guess he didn’t like that.

“Nothing much, I just want to talk.” She toned down her volume a little bit. Not everyone was as gung-ho as she was.

“About Clover?” Qrow glared at her, and were his cheeks a little pinker or was Elm imagining things?

“Maybe. But also just in general. I’ve seen reruns of your team’s Vytal Festivals. You were pretty impressive in your Academy days.” So was she, considering she had the winner’s trophy still on her shelf at her place.

Qrow gave her a suspicious look before he sat down on the wall, one leg dangling down as he used his other knee to prop up his elbow. “You’re a tournament fan?”

“I have the boxsets,” she admitted without a trace of shame. “You’re not?”

“I watched the one my nieces were in and that’s it. Except for when it was on in Vale when Ruby and Yang were kids, then it was a big family outing.” He waved a hand dismissively. “What’s your angle?”

“No angle.” That got a scoff. “Clover’s a good man to have watching your back out in the field. A good friend off of it as well.”

“Thought you Ace Ops didn’t do friendship,” he rolled his eyes at her.

“We’re not schoolkids, it’s not like we’re a clique,” she smiled patiently, like she had when team RWBY had said the same. “It’s a job first, and the job comes first, out on the field. Sometimes tough calls have to be made, or sometimes you lose people.” She knew that one firsthand.

“Yeah. Friends don’t usually work for me anyway. It’s best when I work alone.”

“Because you’ve done so much of that recently,” she couldn’t help a grin, and the glare that he shot her was downright malevolent.

“It’s different when his semblance can protect him.” Qrow snarled defensively. There was something under that, though. Something guilty and unspoken, like there was an end to the sentence he hadn’t tacked on.

“It can do that, yes, just as mine prevents me from being knocked down, but is that really all there is? He’s a good guy, and he’s worth making a connection with.” Well, this was something of a shovel talk, so she may as well bring it full circle. In for a penny, out for a pound. “Just… don’t string him along and hurt him. His luck can’t protect him from everything.”

She reached an arm over her shoulder, patting Timber affectionately with a cheerful grin that showed one too many teeth. “And if you do hurt him, as in, maliciously, your ass is dead. No pressure, though.”

Qrow snorted. “You think you can take me on?”

“I think I’m the woman who jumped off Atlas City and walked away whistling.”

Qrow blinked at her, looking almost impressed. “Huh. I have a friend in Patch you’d probably get on well with.”

“Introduce me some time when the CCT goes up,” she chuckled. “Just do what you think is best for you. And if that’s Clover, treat him well, okay?” Because Clover kept tossing Qrow the soppiest looks when he thought no one was looking, and even last night over their weekly dinner at her place he’d talked non-stop for twenty minutes about how ‘utterly gorgeous’ Qrow apparently was.

Which, valid, she didn’t get it, but hey, it made Clover happy. That was what mattered.

Qrow was still making some grumbly squawks of what was probably denial at her, and she shrugged them off with her usual unshakeability. “Anyway, good luck~” She singsonged as she walked off, and the next words thrown at her head was definitely an insult.

--------------

“Robyn, something came up! Qrow and I are going to be late.” Clover’s voice rang tinnily in her ear with the sounds of combat and gunfire in the background, the earpiece hidden by her hair as it squeaked uncomfortably. She held back a wince as she walked down the alleyway, technically searching for survivors but really walking around as the perfect bait for one little scorpion, slightly homicidal.

Damn. Sure, she wanted to beat the everloving shit out of Tyrian on her own, but she knew that it was smartest to have back-up on this fight, as much as it stung her pride.

Looks like she’d just have to manage until Boy Scout and his boyfriend showed up.

She hoped they were dating, at least. She and Clover barely talked anymore, not since she made a Mistake, big capital letters. Even her ego had to concede that particular clusterfuck that had destroyed their friendship had, yes, been her fault.

Still, she recognised what Clover In Love looked like, especially his showing off. She wondered how much of his posturing out in the tundra had been to try look tough in front of her and how much of it was him posturing for that goth twunk.

While he’d not taken her hand, a fair response after everything that had gone down between them and their partnership, she couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if she’d finished her interrogation with ‘do you have a crush on someone right now’ like some teenage girl at a slumber party.

Her semblance, at least, never lied. Not the part she let herself use.

The rest? That didn’t lie either, but she wasn’t ever going to do that to someone again.

She wondered if the caped Huntsman with the hobo scruff knew how lucky he was. Clover was at heart a genuinely decent person, dumbass goody-two-shoes need to follow the rules aside, and his loyalty to Ironwood had actually turned out to be founded in common sense and actual loyalty instead of blind military obedience.

She wondered where his boyfriend stood on the whole Salem matter. Did he know too?

Well, he fucking did now.

She walked along, forcing herself not to look up at the rooftops of the alley around her. She was believed to be a main target for Tyrian, because of her ties to Mantle and especially the fact that she was alone now.

Tyrian was a predator, apparently. He’d want to skew things in his favour, and he probably thought a little bird all on her lonesome would be such an easy hit.

Robyn’s lips twisted into a vulpine smile, teeth flashing. Careful, Callows, this little birdy had fangs.

She heard boots land on the ground behind her and whipped around, her crossbow up and a bolt nocked and loaded. Tyrian Callows stood behind her, a mechanical stinger weaving almost playfully through the air behind him. He spread his arms in a theatrical gesture, brows furrowed with anger despite his smile.

“Robyn Hill!” He announced, crazed yellow eyes focused on her own. “You have such an impact on this city, it’s not what I would have expected from such a sweet-faced vixen like yourself.”

She loosed the bolt at his head, baring her teeth in a threat as he dodged it, an amused cast to his features. He was fast. Damnit. “If I’m so sweet then why do you want to kill me?”

Tyrian cackled at that. “I can’t have you bringing your hope and wonder everywhere you go, that just wouldn’t do!” He caught the next crossbow bolt between his fingers, faking a hurt look. “I find it… disappointing.”

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint.” She shifted her weight, ready to move the second he came at her. She missed her longbow. She would have liked to use it to beat him to death. Maybe Clover could steal it back from the military for her, if he wasn’t busy mooning over that scruffy weirdo.

Tyrian snapped the crossbow bolt in his hand. “Oh I know, my dear vixen. Are you waiting for your dearest friends to arrive?”

Robyn shifted uncomfortably at the possessive undertone to his nickname for her, her crossbow ready. Catch this one, bitch, go on. “So you figured it out.” That apparently wasn’t the only thing he figured out either. Fuck.

“Do you think I’m a fool?” He laughed, pressing a hand to his chest. “Why, Robyn dearest, I’m hurt! No, the pretty bird and his kingfisher got held up by the General’s own bots. The good Doctor made sure of it.”

That explained the gunshots. “Guess I’ll just have to beat you myself then, Callows.”

His chuckles faded into a wicked smirk, his eyes glowing purple for a moment as his blades extended on his wrists, shaped like a scorpion’s pincers. “You missed my blades at your rally, but worry not. You will never escape me now, my dear.”

He charged at her, laughing as he blocked every bolt she shot. He slashed at her and she jumped, her boot landing on his head as she used him as a stepping stone before she landed in a combat roll.

Her next crossbow bolt was knocked aside by his tail as he turned to face her, smile plastered on his face. She set her jaw in determination, lavender eyes hard as steel. Clover and his boyfriend better hurry the fuck up.

-------------

Clover tied up a bunch of Atlas bots, leaving them stuck for Harbinger to slash through them like butter. He looked around for any others and let out a breath he’d been holding when he saw no more.

“Qrow, come on, we have to go.” Robyn was fighting Tyrian alone and like hell was he going to let her do that alone. She was good, but from what Qrow said, Callows was better.

Qrow pulled his scythe from a bot and nodded, following him along. “You think they figured out she was bait?”

“I’ll bet.” He flung Kingfisher at a rooftop and reeled himself up, aiming to use them to get the drop on Tyrian. “That’s likely where the robots came from.”

He missed Qrow’s mutter of ‘just like Beacon’ as he aimed for where Robyn was meant to be, trusting that Qrow would be hot on his heels. They worked well together. Trust was a logical conclusion.

That was what he told himself but according to Elm he was not subtle nor did he have any intent to be. He liked Qrow, quite a lot, and he was fine with that.

Also he was going to take that moment where Qrow made a luck joke to him earlier this evening and run with it because that was a potentially very good sign.

A good sign that he could think about later, as he heard the sounds of a fight up ahead, filtering up the top of an alley into the Mantle air, and sped up.

He skidded to a stop at the rooftop in time to watch Robyn land a vicious hook into Tyrian’s face, knocking him back just enough for her to wind up for a kick to his crotch. Tyrian’s tail hooked around her foot, before his hand glowed with a strange purple light.

Clover tossed Kingfisher’s reel down to snag on his wrist, yanking his hand out of the way as Robyn rallied and tossed a punch into his throat. Faster then even Clover could react, his other hand skated across her arm with that same purple energy, her lavender aura shattering to pieces as the stinger wrapped around her leg constricted.

He heard the sound of cracking bone all the way from the top of the building, saw the tip of the stinger extend, and yanked with all the force he could manage to get the bastard away from his old partner.

He saw a blur of red and brown-grey drop past him before Qrow’s heel hit hard against the side of Tyrian’s head, Tyrian’s tail flicking to toss Robyn against the wall before he turned all his attention to the new player in the arena.

Clover jumped down, taking one glance at Qrow to judge the situation. Qrow’s gorgeous red eyes locked on his as the other Huntsman gave him a smirk, before turning his attention to Tyrian with a dangerous growl. “Miss me, Callows?”

Clover tuned out Tyrian’s gleeful response as he ran over to Robyn and crouched, looking her over for damages. The impact against the brick wall at the end there had caused her hair to fall loose from her usual ponytail, much more like the flyaway mess he recognised from Academy days. “Robyn, status report.”

“You’re late,” she grinned toothily at him, sitting up. Her long coat was missing, likely shredded in the fight if the tattered fabric on the ground was any indicator. Her left leg moved with the motion and she winced a bit, looking at the damage. “I’m fine, go help your boyfriend.”

He decided not to even bother telling her Qrow wasn’t his boyfriend as right now they were on a timer. “I have a small field kit, let me see your ankle first and if he stung you, then I’ll go beat his face in.”

“Fighting for my honour now, Biceps?” She chuckled, blowing her hair out of her eyes.

“Who says it’s for you?” He paused when he noticed a skinny red tail, tipped with white, poking out of a cut in her trousers, thin and limp and raggedy looking. “You shaved it?”

She shrugged at him, looking a little wistful about it. “Faunus don’t run for politics, Clover. Half of Mantle still hates them. If I want to make real change, it had to be done.”

“I know, Robert.” He nodded and focused on getting the supplies, rolling up her pant leg and whistling at the damage. The skin was already darkening with a ring of bruises, her shin noticeably caved in. The puncture wound was just under her knee, sluggishly leaking a mixture of violet and red.

He heard her swear when she saw it herself and then she spat out a filthy curse when he gave it a small prod. “It’s fucking broken, don’t touch it, dumbass!”

“Do you want to do your own field dressings? Because I’ll let you,” he snarked at her, tossing a glance over to where Qrow was using Harbinger as a reversed blade, curved around his forearm, almost like he was holding a tonfa, and used it to block Tyrian’s blades.

“Just hurry up and splint it and shit.” Robyn gritted her teeth. “Distract me by telling me how long you’ve been dating five o’clock shadow.”

“We aren’t dating.” Yet, he added to himself.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me. Clover, what the fuck.”

“I’m working on asking him out.” He splinted her leg and she let out a sharp bark, the sound catching Tyrian’s attention. He charged at them before Qrow’s hand landed on his stinger tail, right under his telson, and yanked him back into their fight.

“Do it now, right now, after you beat that sicko, or else I’m telling him about the Haddock Incident.”

“Don’t you dare, Robert,” he dressed her sting and sat her against the wall. “Call a medic and a prison transport, we’re taking him in.”

Robyn grinned and raised her crossbow. “I got one arrow left, just for him. We’ll see him smile after that.”

“I’ll make sure you get the shot,” he knocked his knuckles against hers, careful not to touch the bare skin of her index finger. Some wounds went deep.

He pulled Kingfisher from his belt and cast the line forward, catching it on Tyrian’s tail as he yanked him back long enough for Qrow to land an uppercut and a shotgun blast right to his midsection.

Tyrian glared darkly at him, face twisted in a snarl as his eyes glowed like stars in the dark. Clover only had eyes for the genuine smile Qrow shot him, tinged with adrenaline and full of trust. He met that gaze with confidence, resolution setting in the furrow of his brow. Time to end this.

“Tyrian Callows, you’re under arrest.”

--------

I’m partial to Fox Faunus! Robyn, yes.

#Fair Game #fairgameweek2020 #Clover Ebi #Qrow Branwen #rwby #Also Elm and Robyn are here and they have OPINIONS on Clover's love life #Tyrian's here as an overdramatic punching bag #my writings

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