#and oh her delight at seeing him on that airfield | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

konggodzuko · 4 years ago

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Momtara & Dadko

Hello! Back with some more fics, just in time for Zutara month!!! This one is a piece of an old WIP on mine, modified a but and chopped down, but I still think it’s a cute fluffy thing. Ao3 link

Story:

When the airship had descended to about twenty feet above from the snowy airfield, several crew members rappelled out to the ground, meeting the airfield’s ground crew.

“—and now, the they will work together to use the ropes the aircrew came down on to pull the airship a few more feet and then fasten it down,” Zuko explained.

There was a burble in response, then a small, yet strong hand grabbed his hair and pulled.

Zuko barely reacted, only readjusting the baby in his arms before pulling the hand away from his hair, and muttering, “No, Ursa, don’t grab Daddy’s hair,” before smiling, “Well, you seem to be in a better mood now, Moon Peach. Come on, let’s get back to Mommy and your siblings.”

The father and daughter left the observation deck and made their way through the ship to the royal family’s cabin.

Zuko opened the door and was relieved to see that things had calmed down a bit from earlier. Twelve-year-old Kya was reading a well-worn copy of Love Amongst the Dragons, while seven-year-old Haruki was working on a large drawing of… something he couldn’t see from this angle, and three-year-old Kiviuq was playing with animal toys.

Katara was sitting by the cabin window, and alternated between reading a document — Zuko was fairly certain it was a report on Nationalist movements in the Fire Nation — and staring out the window with a slightly giddy expression.

The entire family was dressed in Water Tribe blues, but the parkas had been foregone as the airship was still warm. Splashes of purple, red and gold accented the blues, to pay homage to the family’s mixed heritage.

The room itself was stately and well-furnished — reflecting the scaled-back royal aesthetic Zuko had come to prefer, with a distinct Water Tribe influence in the decor — but still rather cramped for a family of six used to having a full palace to themselves.

Zuko entered the room and Katara looked over at him, “How is she?”

“She’s fine, we were watching the airmen and ground crew bring the ship in,” he tickled Ursa under her chin, causing her to squeal happily, “And Ursa found Daddy very interesting, right?”

“Mama!” Ursa suddenly called out through her giggles, “Mama!”

Katara put her scroll aside and walked over to the pair. Ursa held out her arms and made grabby hands, so Katara plucked her daughter from Zuko’s hands and began peppering kisses all over the baby’s face.

“It should just be a few minutes before we disembark.”

Katara pulled away from Ursa and said, “I hope so, I want to be out there already,” she smiled at Ursa and started to coo, “isn’t that right, Moon Peach? Mommy is soooo tired of this cabin, and I bet you are too!”

Zuko gave his wife a quick peck on the cheek before leaving the mom and daughter and moving to look over the shoulder of Haruki, “What’re you working on?” The drawing was clearly supposed to be a human, or at least humanoid, but the head looked odd, even for a seven-year-old’s drawing, colored a green-blue with big red eyes. It reminded him of an insect.

“It’s my costume!” Haruki proclaimed, “It’s what I’m gonna wear to fight bad guys!”

Zuko raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“Mmhmm!”

“Where’d you get this idea?”

Haruki turned, and looked at his dad with large eyes that sparkled in wonder, “Kya told me about the Blue Spirit and Painted Lady! And how they fought bad guys all over the Fire Nation after you became Firelord!” He gasped, “Did you ever meet them?”

Zuko glanced off to the side, internally cursing his oldest daughter’s obsession with history, then said, “Erm, once or twice.”

“Wow! How cool were they? Are they spirits? Or are they people? Oh! Or are they spirits and people combined? Oh—”

“Sorry, kiddo, but again, I only met them once or twice, and it was very quick. I know what they looked like, but not much else.”

Haruki’s face fell, “Awww…”

Zuko ruffled his son’s hair, then asked, “So why green?”

“‘Cause it’s my second favorite color besides blue! And the Blue Spirit’s already Blue, so I can’t be blue!”

“Ohhh, okay. Well, your drawing’s very, very good.”

“Thanks daddy!” He went back to furiously scribbling with crayons.

“Daddy!” Zuko felt a tug on his pant leg, and he looked down to see Kiviuq staring up at him, holding aloft a wooden dragon. Kiviuq smiled widely when he saw he had hid father’s attention, and then asked quietly, “Dragon breath?”

“Er,” he glanced at Katara who had shot him ‘The Look’, “sorry, Snowball, but dragon breath is an outside thing, remember? Ask me later, okay?”

Kiviuq pouted slightly (and boy could Zuko see Katara in their son’s pout) but said, “Okay…” and wandered back to his corner to continue playing with his toys.

Zuko glanced at Kya and grinned, but didn’t go over to her. She was nose-deep in a book, and he knew that any sort of “unnecessary” distraction would be barely acknowledged. It was how he used to get way back before his banishment, when he just loved to read.

He went back over to Katara, who was bounding Ursa on her knee, much to their daughter’s delight.

“Exited to be back home?” He asked, smiling.

Katara grinned broadly, “I’ve needed this for a while. Everything’s been so—” she waved her hand irritably, “everything in Caldera, I can already feel myself relaxing.”

“You realize that the Council will probably immediately request you to show up at sessions, right?”

She laughed, “That’s fine, I’d still much rather deal with fishery disputes than, well,” she gestured at the scroll she had been reading.

“It’s nothing new, right?” They had had a briefing about the current situation regarding Nationalist violence shortly before their departure. The scroll had arrived via messenger hawk about a day into their flight, along with several other documents that their ministers had deemed important enough to pass on.

She sighed, “Apparently they’re starting to leave the Fire Nation and set up shop in the Republic.”

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, “Of course they are,” he shook his head, “Well, nothing can be done about that right now.”

“True,” Katara said.

Their conversation was interrupted by Ursa, who yelled angrily and patted Katara’s knee, which had stopped bouncing at some point.

The parents chuckled, and Katara resumed a gentle bounce.

The family sat in quiet peace for a while as the crews worked to secure the airship so they could depart. Ursa eventually tired out and fell asleep on her mom, but after a few minutes Katara transferred her to Zuko, who had donned a sling to carry the sleeping baby. As the Firelady went back to the report she had b been reading, her husband strode around the room, rocking the baby to keep her asleep.

Eventually, there came a polite knock at the cabin door.

“Come in,” Katara said.

There was a creak as it opened to allow Qibolin, the airship’s captain, to step in. He fell into an immaculate bow and said, “Your Majesties, I am delighted to report that we have officially arrived in the Southern Water Tribe. It also appears that Chief Hakoda has already arrived to greet you.”

“Thank you, Qibolin,” Zuko said, as Katara was already pulling out the parkas and bundling up the children.

It took a few minutes to get everyone properly dressed, but soon the family was moving through the passageways and arrived at the starboard hatch, where a gangway had been extended to the ground. And at the base of the gangway, chatting with a few of the airmen who had rappelled down earlier, was —

“Grandpa!” Kya and Haruki yelled at the same time and shot down the ramp.

Zuko and Katara shouted a simultaneous and useless “Don’t run!” Kiviuq — held by Zuko — shouted and tried to follow his older siblings, but there was no way Zuko was going to let his tiny son toddle down the ramp on his own. Ursa — held by Katara — paid no mind and just snuggled into her mom’s neck.

“Kids!” Hakoda yelled joyfully and leaned at the bottom of the gangway, arms spread wide. Kya and Haruki crashed into him and he wrapped them up in a big hug.

Zuko and Katara gave each other tired looks before continuing down themselves.

#atla #Zuko #Katara #steambabies #Zutara #Zutara month #momtara and dadko

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sparkkeyper · 4 years ago

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Baby, It’s Cold Outside

Word Count: 3,797

Warnings: None

Summary: Old habits die hard. Crowley and Aziraphale’s habits are very, very old. Building their own side is difficult when 6000 years of instincts won’t shut up.

(Originally very loosely-based on the song "Baby, It's Cold Outside" but then it kind of did its own thing, haha. I was originally going to post this for Advent Omens but uhhh you can see that didn’t quite happen. Written as ace but you can read it however you want, really. Guess what fools, it’s Soft Boi hours again!)

(Now on AO3!)

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The snow had started early in the day. When Aziraphale arrived at the Mayfair flat it was just a dusting. But the flurry had become a proper snowfall, and then quickly decided 'go big or go home' and transitioned into a flat-out storm.

This didn't phase the two immortals in the slightest, of course. If anything, the swirling flakes outside made it feel even cozier inside. Crowley's sleek, minimalist flat had grown a fireplace for the occasion, and a very surprised new chimney on the roof of the building found itself venting smoke that somehow managed to bypass three floors.

They sat together on the plush sofa (obtained at Aziraphale's insistence several months prior, on the grounds that he wasn't going to continue coming over if there was nowhere comfortable to sit, and Crowley couldn't have that) and drank wine and talked and laughed and reveled in the feeling of being cozy and warm on a cold, blustery day.

Time had traveled on in the usual manner since Armageddon failed to happen. The two of them were unwinding slowly. Thousands of years of looking over shoulders did not evaporate in an evening, benevolent Antichrist or no, and 'our side' was a concept they were still carefully exploring. But what a glorious exploration it was.

There was no limit to the amount of time they could spend together. It was a dizzying concept that they were both adjusting to, but one that carried a thrill through it all the same. Crowley had been sorely tempted to buy tickets to every concert, play, and musical revue London had to offer and do nothing but attend shows for the foreseeable future, the two of them together. In public. He very well might have done too, if Aziraphale hadn't talked him down amid giddy chuckles. "We have time," Aziraphale had reminded him, and Crowley was ecstatic to realize that it was true.

He had relented to two a week.

It was elating. They stood closer together, they sat beside each other on public transportation rather than one behind the other, they gave each other teasing nudges with elbows.

And sometimes - when they were both at least a bottle in - one of them might even bump their hand against the other's, and fingers might intertwine, and an electric tingle would flood Crowley like a live thing, and most importantly neither would pull away for at least two solid minutes and oh wasn't that alone worth saving the world for?

Crowley spent a previously-unheard-of amount of time at the bookshop and Aziraphale's face always lit up like the sun whenever he walked in. He arrived early, stayed late, sometimes didn't bother going home at all, often showed up with wine or snacks, and they were together and it was wonderful. He had fallen asleep on the bookshop couch in the past, but these months he got the impression that Aziraphale had zoned the piece of furniture as specifically his. There was a permanent place set aside for him in Aziraphale's home, in Aziraphale's life. It made a warmth pool in his stomach to think about it despite the creeping winter chill.

Aziraphale had begun to visit Crowley's flat in return. The angel had never once set foot in the place until the night after the airfield - Crowley had never given him the address, to be fair - but now that permission had been granted Aziraphale was here increasingly often. It was so like the easy evenings at the bookshop, just with more austere surroundings. Music, alcohol, debates and memories and slightly drunken speculation. The occasional temporary twining of fingers. It was good.

It was overwhelming sometimes, this new 'good'.

Aziraphale always left the flat at the end of the evening, usually around ten. He had no reservations whatsoever about chatting until dawn in the bookshop but the flat was a new environment, Crowley supposed. Possibly something to do with propriety.

Possibly something to do with thousands of years of distance that they were both still figuring out how to cross.

But that was Aziraphale, all right: as slow and steady as a glacier when it came to his set, comfortable ways. So much had changed in the past few months and the angel had had to adapt quickly. Crowley didn't begrudge him taking a few things slow. Old habits were hard to break and their habits were very, very old.

Crowley understood well how shadows could linger even in the bright daylight. It was all well and good to say he was off Hell's payroll. It was another thing entirely when instinct crept up on him screaming that he needed to watch his back, to sit a row behind Aziraphale on the bus, to have forty excuses ready for when Dagon came auditing. It took considerable effort to override those instincts and remind himself that 'together' was okay. It was allowed. And still he'd so far only managed to turn the volume down on them, not silence them completely. He didn't know if he ever would. Crowley didn't doubt Aziraphale had similar instincts of his own. If the angel felt better setting himself a curfew, Crowley certainly wasn't going to judge.

But tonight they were here, and warm, and sheltered from the blizzard. As 'retro' had begun to slide back into style, Crowley had picked up a sleek addition to his stereo system that was at once a record turntable, radio, tape deck, and CD player, with added Bluetooth capability for good measure. Strains of Vivaldi swam through the room from a vinyl, mingling with the crackling of the fire and the clinking of wine glasses. Aziraphale was settled deeply into the sofa, his posture several steps short of perfect which was how Crowley knew he was truly relaxed. Crowley, as per usual, was draped over the couch like he'd never seen one before in his life, as though he had too many limbs and didn't know what to do with them all. It was good.

Life was good.

It was a little after ten when Aziraphale spoke up. "It's getting late." His voice was a bit distant as he looked out the window, snow glinting in the reflected light as it fell. "I suppose I ought to be going."

There was a note of regret to his voice, a lack of conviction in his eyes, that Crowley had learned to read over the long years of the Arrangement. A smile pulled at the corner of the demon's mouth, covered up easily by another sip of wine. It was a very old game they played, treading carefully along the outside edges of things that could not or should not be said aloud. Expectations, angelic ones in particular, built a lot of barriers. Aziraphale wanted something that wasn't allowed him - or wasn't supposed to be allowed him - and couldn't bring himself to reach out and grasp it. It was Crowley's job to find ways for him to justify the forbidden something to himself.

In the subtle language they shared, the angel was asking Crowley to tempt him, and how could Crowley pass up a request like that?

"Awfully cold out there," the demon drawled, gesturing languidly toward the window with his wine glass. "Snowing like nobody's business. Wind and ice and subzero chill. Terrible night to be out in."

"I'm sure it's not so bad."

"Not so bad? It's been raging for hours! Look at it! It's knee-high! You expect me to try and drive my poor car out in that mess?"

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow at the demon. "Ah yes. Imagine if humans invented other forms of transportation aside from your horrid car."

The demon's argument was all bluff and they both knew it. The Bentley could slice through the snowdrifts like a hot knife through butter if Crowley wanted it to. It wasn't the strength of the argument that mattered - it was whether or not Aziraphale could twist it to bypass the metaphorical roadblocks. Crowley rose to the challenge by sprawling back on the sofa with a smirk. "Other forms of transportation? You mean a bus, in weather like that? And good luck finding a cab out there, angel. City's practically shut down."

Aziraphale stood, giving his back a tentative stretch. "I could walk, of course. I've done it loads of times. It doesn't take much more than twenty minutes, not counting the care that has to be taken for ice."

"Walk, he says!" Crowley tossed back the remainder of his wine like a shot glass. "Think of it - the first angel in history to catch pneumonia! Bad job I'm not working for Hell anymore; they'd give me an award!"

"If doing those temptations in Qashliq for you didn't give me pneumonia, I'm quite sure nothing will."

"Are you ever going to let that go? It was over four hundred years ago!"

"It was February in Siberia, no I will not."

"Suppose you did stay a bit longer," Crowley ventured, changing tactics. It was a risk, coming at the problem from such a direct angle when they were both so used to ghosting along edges. "Bookshop wouldn't go anywhere, would it?"

Aziraphale blinked at the abrupt transition. "Well no, I shouldn't think so. It's just...I mean if I don't return home someone might notice of course and well...people will talk."

Crowley leaned forward over his knees, seriously. "Angel. When, in two hundred years in that bookshop, have you ever given a single fuck what your human neighbours think?"

Aziraphale drew himself up with a huff, and Crowley was delighted to see familiar indignation winning out over nerves. "I am an upstanding member of the community, I'll have you know. And it's not just my neighbours, of course - it's yours as well. That little old lady who lives on the floor below, for example. She always gives me that look when I pass her in the lift."

"What look?"

"You know! That look! Like she thinks she knows what's going on between the two of us."

The demon grinned like a Cheshire cat and gave a suggestive wiggle of his shoulders just for the expression it painted across the angel's face. "You're worried that my neighbours are going to think you and I took a tumble in the sheets?"

"They already suspect! Or at least she suspects." Aziraphale was trying so hard to keep a straight face, but mirth glinted behind his eyes. "Do you know what she said to me as she was getting out of the lift the other day? 'Don't forget to use protection; you don't know where he's been!'"

Crowley howled, leaning so far back in his laughter that he fell off the couch.

"I don't know what's more outlandish, the idea that we're in here having a lurid physical affair or the idea that I don't know exactly where you've been."

Crowley wiped his eyes dry and held out a hand so the angel could help pull him up from the floor. "Remind me to miracle her fridge so that all her milk keeps past its date. 'Don't know where he's been' indeed."

Aziraphale fought to get his own smile under control, for the sake of his argument if nothing else. "Yes, but it just goes to show, Crowley, people do notice. And they will talk, I'm sure of it."

"Let them," he waved it off. "I've seen tissue paper with more durability than human gossip. It'll all get forgotten in a day or two." Crowley leaned over and refilled both glasses.

"Right. I suppose it will." The angel took a tentative sip and sat back into the sofa again. "Silly thing to get worked up about, really."

On a regular night that might have been the end of it. They'd had their verbal tennis, they'd had a laugh, and Aziraphale had accepted another drink. But try as he might, the angel couldn't seem to settle. There was a stiffness, a tension to his spine that would not unwind. He fidgeted with the stemware, shooting furtive glances at the window, the fireplace, the clock.

The ceiling.

The final notes of Vivaldi faded out, leaving the room in silence, and Crowley rose to swap the record. The discomfort radiating off the angel was almost palpable and it made his own spine crawl. "Aziraphale--"

"Only, the wind really looks dreadful," Aziraphale blurted out, jolting to his feet and crossing to the window. "I really ought to go before it gets worse."

"Can't get much worse than it is, I think," Crowley countered carefully. "Best stay where it's warm."

"I don't..." Aziraphale stared out at the London skyline, nearly invisible in the storm. Pale fingers worried absently at the hem of his waistcoat. His mouth was down to a thin line and there was quite a lot behind his eyes. He looked pained. "I shouldn't impose."

"You're not imposing if I'm offering."

"It isn't...it isn't right for me to stay!"

The demon set down the vinyl he was holding, something dangerous layering his words. "Says who?"

"I've been ignoring protocol too much as it is--"

Crowley gritted his teeth, a growl rising in his throat. "There is no protocol on our side!"

"I know!" Aziraphale snapped. There was a beat of silence and the anger in the angel's face melted as suddenly as it had come, leaving his expression frustrated and upset. He scrubbed a hand across his eyes, almost apologetically. "I...I really can't...surely you understand why I can't just..." He ran a hand through his hair helplessly, eyes darting to the ceiling.

The demon set his glass down and moved over to the window.

It was a very old game they played. Crowley was good at his job and Aziraphale was good at the mental gymnastics required to fit through some of the more dubious loopholes. But every now and then they still lost.

He positioned himself in front of the principality, forcing Aziraphale to look at him.

"Angel," he said quietly, as though someone might overhear. "If you want to head home, I'll take you. You know I will. I'd just rather it be because you want to rather than because they would want you to."

Aziraphale looked truly miserable. "Crowley, you've been a marvelous host, you really have, but...I'm so sorry, I..."

Crowley stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. For just a moment the demon's face was soft, genuine. A bit sad but still impossibly fond. "Don't be." He gave the shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It's late. Get your coat, angel, it's cold out there." He doused the fireplace with a wave and stretched his back out. "Give me a moment to sober up and I'll start the car."

Aziraphale sighed, clearly frustrated at a great many things, but headed for the coat rack while the demon forced the alcohol from his system. "It ought to be fine," he muttered as the wine bottles in the corner finished refilling. "It ought to be fine. I can't explain it, I..."

"It's like someone's standing too close inside your personal space," Crowley finished for him quietly, pulling a coat of his own from the ether. "Like you're driving on the motorway and you end up in the blind spot of a lorry. There's no great outward change but all of a sudden the hairs are up on the back of your neck and your skin is crawling. And you just have this overwhelming sense of this is not a good place to be, get out."

"Yes," Aziraphale murmured unsteadily. "Yes, that's it exactly." His eyes found Crowley's, apologetic, searching.

"It is what it is, angel," he assured him softly. "We have time."

A weight seemed to lift from Aziraphale's shoulders. "I...thank you. Truly." There were things unspoken that Crowley could hear beneath that simple phrase. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for being patient with me.

Don't say that, hesitated on the tip of Crowley's tongue. Instinct was, of course, very old and very strong. He swallowed down the words and searched for new ones to replace them.

"You're welcome," he said quietly. The syllables tasted foreign in his mouth.

There was silence in the flat as he buttoned up his coat. Despite the passing months they truly had only moved the barest steps away from where they had been.

They had so very far to go yet.

But it was true. They had time.

"Right." He tried to break the mood as casually as he could, slipping dark glasses on and turning his voice into something light and easy. "Shall we be off then? After you, angel."

The lift ride down was silent, subdued. Something complicated was warring behind the blue eyes and Crowley wasn't going to even begin to touch on it until they were in the car. Aziraphale's steps faltered as he reached the glass doors of the lobby, and Crowley was halfway down the outside stairs before he realized he wasn't following.

"Oi, you coming?"

Aziraphale stared down at the space beyond the door with a peculiar expression: uncertainty and determination and anger and hurt. "I - I don't..." There was a moment of indecision, of frantic debate on his face, then he backed quickly over to the lobby bench and sat down hard.

Crowley pulled his coat tighter about himself as the wind bit through his clothes and ducked back into the building.

Aziraphale held very still, eyes closed and fingers gripping the edge of the bench.

"Angel?"

"Give me a moment. Please."

Crowley paced a cautious half-circle around him, instinctively scanning the principality for damage and the storm beyond the glass wall for threats. Another old habit - nearly useless now but one he wasn't going to be able to drop any time soon. He sat down beside the angel and the lobby was quiet for a very, very long time.

"I think," murmured Aziraphale at last, "if it's all right with you, I'd like to stay."

Crowley studied him closely. "Are you sure?"

"No." Aziraphale met his gaze. "I haven't been sure of much of anything, recently. Not since Tadfield. But I do not want to be forced back to the bookshop tonight."

"Shouldn't force yourself to stay if you're only going to be miserable."

"It's not so bad down here, that's the silly thing. But for some reason the idea of going back upstairs is just..." He laughed wryly. "What a mess I've made of the evening."

"It was a fine evening," Crowley told him earnestly.

"I thought so too, at least until the end there." He straightened, and looked a bit more like himself to Crowley's eyes. "And it's my most sincere hope that, with some more wine and another record, it might be again. Give me a few minutes. I think I can work up to it."

The demon took his glasses off and studied him closely. The determination in those eyes, the set of that jaw, were so familiar they hurt. There was a nervousness there, but there was a stubbornness as well. Like the glacier: slow, steady, but deep down so, so strong.

Crowley reached behind himself and retrieved a pair of full wine glasses that suddenly and thoughtfully decided to exist. "You know, I reckon..." he said quietly, handing one to Aziraphale, "that these will taste just as good right here as they would upstairs."

Aziraphale blinked. Glanced from his glass to the demon to the lift and back again. And his expression softened considerably.

"And if music and wine is what it takes to hang onto your company for a little longer, I s'pose that's the sacrifice I'll have to make, won't I?" He sat his phone down beside him and with a few taps Mozart began to play from its speakers.

Aziraphale stared deep into his wine glass, a smile spreading across his face that he didn't seem quite ready to share with the world yet. "A little unorthodox, isn't it?"

"And?" Crowley shrugged. "Last I checked, there's no protocol on our side."

"So there isn't. Do you know, I think I like that about it."

The demon lowered his voice. "Say the word any time, you know. We'll go, no questions asked."

"I know." Aziraphale let out a long breath and settled back onto cushions that were suddenly far more plush than anything the lobby bench had seen before. "But at the moment I'd rather be here."

The storm howled beyond the glass wall but the central heating vent behind them kept any stray chills at bay. They sat in gentle silence for a long time.

Piano Sonata No. 14 wound through the room, mingling with the warmth and the wine to kindle a sense of calm: a concoction of human magic that miracles, for all their power, could never replicate. Clever things, those humans.

Crowley traced a finger around the rim of his glass. "Can I ask what changed your mind?" he asked softly.

Aziraphale gazed off into the distance for a moment before looking back to his companion. "It was the 'you're welcome', funnily enough. You've always objected so vehemently to being thanked before."

"Yeah, well..." Crowley took another sip of his drink so as not to meet Aziraphale's eyes. "Like being in the blind spot of a lorry."

Aziraphale nodded. "It's..." He trailed off. Took a swig of wine and swallowed it down hard, as though for courage. "It's a comfort," he admitted so quietly that Crowley had to strain to hear him. "To know that it's not just me."

Crowley pursed his lips. "Not by a long shot, no" he confessed, equally quiet.

"I know accepting gratitude doesn't come easy to you. But you managed, tonight."

"It isn't a footrace, angel. I'm not asking you to keep pace with me."

"I know that. And I'm grateful. It's just... seeing you be brave makes me feel like...like I can be as well."

That smile was tugging at the edge of Crowley's mouth again. He reached out and clinked the edge of his glass with Aziraphale's. "Course you can be. Always have been."

The angel smiled back at him, warm and glowing and grateful, just the faintest hint of pink darkening his cheeks. With a daring Crowley had only seen behind the safety of closed doors and wine bottles, he placed a hand on the bench between them, palm up.

Crowley took it.

Meeting him in the middle, as always.

"Careful, angel," the demon murmured in his ear. "Remember, you don't know where I've been."

Aziraphale gave an undignified snort into his wine glass and their laughter echoed throughout the lobby.

The storm raged cold outside, but here, in their own little in-between place, they were warm.

#good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #my fic #my writing #soft husbands all the time #sneaking in under the deadline like a boss #asexual ineffable husbands #Good omens heaven is full of assholes #they'll be okay they just need a little time and practice

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politicalmamaduck · 5 years ago

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Reylo Fic Recs: Canonverse

Across the Stars by @rapturousaurora

Hugging Rey close, desperate to feel something of her, her skin against his, a lingering tendril of their once vibrant Force bond—anything—Ben only felt cold silence. Her vacant gaze stared up at the ceiling of the Sith’s Exegol stronghold.And still he felt no anger. No hate. His emotions were dominated by the almost childlike desire to fix what his lifetime of mistakes had broken—Ben wanted to fix her.

With You by @politicalpadme

Ben Solo finds the will to rise.

the shadows are whispering (again) by @thewayofthetrashcompactor

The Force has always had it out for the Skywalkers. Ben feels like he knows that better than most. Why else would it have saddled him with another curse to add to his legacy? (From birth to death and back again.)

Phantasm by @forcebondedreylo

Rey thought that she was finished with Ben Solo after Crait. She was proven otherwise when she crash-landed on a strange and dangerous planet with no way to contact the Resistance. Now Ben Solo might be her only hope of survival, if the deadly inhabitants don't get her first.

The Weight of a Soul by @ceallaigheirinn

“If he is condemned, then his soul shall be cast into oblivion,” the Mother answered. “It will cease to be. Oblivion is beyond the veil that the Force encompasses. His soul would be consumed by nothingness, and Ben Solo would exist on neither the mortal plane or the World Beyond.”

linger in the doorway (of my field of paper flowers) by @mnemehoshiko

She can't tell if she got the better deal or not. Foolish. Did you truly want to waste away in this sand-ridden hell? a voice whispers, low and soft. No, she thinks, but it would be a familiar hell, at least.

destruction makes the world burn brighter by @cosmicforces

When he was nearly within reach, he extended the blade—or was it his hand?—but everything faded to black before she was certain. Panting, she bolted upright in her bed and wiped away the sweat clinging to her forehead. She’d dreamt of Jakku again.

A New Generation by @aionimica

Ben glances at Rey and quietly asks, “Do you want to spend the rest of your life with a twice-fallen former warlord who doesn’t know what place he has in this galaxy except as a porg-mother?”

In Our Silence, Volumes by @roamingbadger

When Rey senses through their Force Bond that Ben is in trouble, she'll stop at nothing to get to him. But what if he's not ready to be rescued - from himself?

I Choose You by @shelikespretties

In the throne room, Rey proposes a counter offer.

Breakout by @leofgyth

In which Rey, Finn, and Ben break Ransolm Casterfo out of prison... for reasons.

Oh the Glory of Tenderness by @ann3onymous

Leia Organa taught her little boy how to weave stories with hair. Years later, Ben Solo weaves Rey's hair with promises.

Slipping Off Course by @fingertipstrembling

Between the birth and death of every star stretches a wide expanse of space, a thirsty maw that drinks up all the light it sees and spits back darkness. In the bowels of a star destroyer deep in that darkness, they find each other—the Supreme Leader’s apprentice and a fledgling pilot recruit who outflies and outwits him at every opportunity. Though he fights the pull of the Force, Kylo Ren finds himself reaching for Rey with nothing to stop his fall.

Like This by @kylo-wouldnt-like-those-chips

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away... Peace reigns in the galaxy. Seriously. The Imperial Remnant fizzled out. There is no First Order. There is no Snoke. The worst thing Ben Solo's ever done was some light brawling. The kids are, as they say, more or less alright.Still, the Force has plans for Ben and Rey, which is how they find themselves working for the same civil rights firm, thrown together in a stakeout van.

temptations of grey by @lasthopesolo

Nightmares filled with the ghostly voice of a woman haunt Supreme Leader Kylo Ren; a constant reminder of the discord within. Terrifying dreams plague Rey, casting doubt on choices she’s made. Both find themselves stranded on a humid jungle planet in unknown territory, captured and forced to participate in a strange mystical ceremony. Rey and Kylo must work together in their journey through the jungle, facing themselves and each other in the pursuit of balance.

Wish Upon a Star by @shelikespretties

When Ben Solo exiles himself on a random planet in order to atone, he finds his mother packed him a calligraphy set. He keeps a diary of his existence, while Rey, cut off from him in the Force, tracks him down the only way she can.

Only If for a Night by @reylotrashcompactor and @southsidestory

The night the war ends is a time for victories and change. Maybe, if Rey is lucky, she can win where Ben Solo is concerned. There’s something between them, more than friendship or battle-forged camaraderie, a need that she’s felt threaded along their bond, and she’s tired of ignoring it.

Above us, stars. Beneath us, constellations. by @shmisolo

Ben woke, but Luke’s saber wasn’t ignited. Instead, he saw a master who had shattered his trust, who thought he was a monster, and—worse—he was probably right.So he fled Yavin IV, to Skywalker’s dismay, and no one heard from him since.Years later, on a wasteland planet, a girl and a fugitive stormtrooper board a Corellian YT-1300 light freighter in desperation to find they are not the only ones trying to steal it.

In the Footsteps of Giants by @aionimica

Post-Sequel Trilogy; Ben Solo is off in exile, accompanied by Rey. In desperate need of fuel, they stop on Naboo, but their pit stop doesn’t quite go as planned.

build a ladder to the stars by @redbelles

Kylo Ren's heart is a desert.

these violent delights (have violent ends) by @luminoustico

The news runs like a wildfire through the galaxy.Kylo Ren found something, someone, else to believe in. He gutted his master for her life. In return, vestiges of Snoke's power delivered a punishment greater than anything either the fallen Knight or the last Jedi could imagine. Together forever, eternally apart.

Luminous Beings by @hauscrashburn

In order to become a Jedi, Rey must do one thing: Kill Kylo Ren. But how can she when her heart belongs--and has belonged to him--for years now?

Midsummer Night's Shared Dream by @shelikespretties

“We’re not on an approved airfield, but look,” she held out her datapad with the map of the crash location. “Xa-Tla City is on the other side of this forest. We can make it there on foot, and, if we start now, we’ll get there before the solstice celebration begins.” Kylo lifted a mocking eyebrow. “You’d risk the spirits of the forest?”Rey scoffed. “I don’t believe in ghosts. Let’s start walking.”

Spillikin by @ceallaigheirinn

“Forgiving yourself doesn’t mean you have to forget what happened, Ben,” his mother said. “It just means you can finally let go and move forward.”

The Way to Tomorrow by @the-reylo-void

Kylo Ren faces his sentence at the hands of the Resistance: a year of off-world solitary confinement, no communication with the outside world. But it's never that easy to leave old wounds behind. Or such deeply-forged bonds.

Porgs by @tehanufromearthsea

Porgs think of Luke Skywalker as the eccentric but harmless giant who lives on their island. Life on Ahch-To can be pretty dull, so at least Luke gives the Porgs something to watch. Then another of his kind arrives, with her friends, and life on Ahch-To gets a lot more entertaining for the porgs.Then comes the invader...

The Jedi Path by @southsidestory

She’s Ben's world: the only thing he cares about, the only thing he needs, the only one who matters. That interest used to be focused on Rey's power, her talent, her fierce, uncompromising will. Platonic, if not innocent, but now—now he still loves her like a protege, but he wants her too. He wants her, and he can’t keep lying to himself about it.

Yub Nub, and a Celebration Song by @luminoustico

It starts with a forest moon, a destined clash between a scavenger and a knight, and some Very Determined Ewoks.

The Visions That Connect Us by @lariren-shadow

They've seen each other for years before they even meet. Kylo Ren and Rey have visions of the other through out their lives.

Reflektor by @reylotrashcompactor

Kylo Ren isn’t fool enough to believe that her capture was a happy accident. He didn’t believe it was good fortune, and he believed least of all that it had anything to do with the reconnaissance skills of Hux’s half-wit stormtroopers. If they have The Girl Called Rey in custody, it is because she meant for it to happen. It was because she had a plan and this was a step in executing it.

Paper Minds by @kuresoto

At the age of five, Ben Solo built his first droid. At the age of ten, he manifested and started to see her everywhere. At the age of eleven, he was sent to train with Luke. He still saw her. When he was fifteen, she disappeared. He was twenty-three when he left Ben Solo behind and became someone who wouldn’t trust blindly ever again. He became Kylo Ren. He meets her for the first time when he’s on the cusp of turning thirty. These were the events that shaped Ben Solo and in turn, Kylo Ren.

Just A Little Crush by @lariren-shadow

Ben Solo has been away from the Jedi Academy for a few years. Now that he's back he's developed a little problem his brother is keen on goading him about.

Retrouvailles by @luminoustico

Six months ago, Ben Solo was removed from Rey's side and his uncle's Jedi Academy to take up his mother's mantle as Senator, and to act representative of the Resistance. He has already claimed the reputation of a troublemaker. After Han Solo requests Luke and Rey act as Ben's security intel at a ball in Coruscant, it is underneath the pressure of galactic politics that her world and his new world collide.

Convergence by @the-reylo-void

Whatever the next steps are, I want to take them with you.

let the silver arrow fly by @solikerez

Leia plays cupid, and fires a few misshots before getting it right.

What We Do in the Snow by @reylotrashcompactor

The first time she dreamed of Starkiller, not much was different.

The Gamble by @nightsofreylo

Whenever you gamble, eventually you lose...

Matchmaker by @lariren-shadow

Bored with being a Force Ghost Anakin decides that his grandson needs some help in the relationship department. Kylo Ren isn't too thrilled at the prospect but, then again, neither is Rey.

here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true by @the-reylo-void

Here is the place where I love you.

People Will Say by @reylotrashcompactor

In a ditch effort to coax the wary members of the Resistance into accepting the prodigal son Ben Solo back into their fold, General Leia Organa requests a hefty favor from Rey. "Behind every good man is a great woman" is how the saying goes, but the man formerly known as Kylo Ren isn't good, and Rey isn't sure that any manner of hand-holding is going to change people's minds about that.

crave my heart (it's bleeding in your hand) by @mnemehoshiko

She wakes with the taste of salt on her lips and screams in her head.

Dark Matter by @arcticelves

Rey is never really alone. Even on Ahch-To, beginning her training with Luke Skywalker, she is frequently interrupted by an uninvited visitor. But is he truly unwelcome?

kept in the dark (but you were there in front of me) by @mnemehoshiko

Ben Solo is nine when he dreams of sand and darkness.

Peace and Purpose by @the-reylo-void

Across the stars, Rey and Ben yearn for each other, neither able to move on, both facing the unending nights alone. But the Force longs for balance as surely as they long for each other.

Laid To Rest by @khaleesa

Ben wants to show Rey the galaxy, to see it with her. First, they have business on Naboo.

Endings and Beginnings by @shelikespretties

Rey’s hand cradles Ben’s head before it can hit the stone floor. He’s ridiculously heavy, all dead weight, and Rey’s entire body cramps in horror before she sees the faint rise and fall of his chest. He’s not dead. He hasn’t left her. Yet. She cradles his face with both hands and sobs in relief.

What Was Lost Is Now Found by @ceallaigheirinn

With no memories of the past, his mind was nothing more than a void of vast emptiness. He couldn’t remember how he got there. It sounded insane, but he even wondered if he was actually there the moment before. When he closed his eyes, fleeting images of a metallic mask, a world collapsing on itself, the touch of a weathered hand across his cheek and a beautiful woman dressed in white flickered from the dark recesses of his mind. But none of it made sense. He had no idea what those images represented or who that woman was. Did she mean something to him? Was she an enemy, friend or lover?

a million miles (cross the ocean) by @mnemehoshiko

in which the Force tries to pay back some of the debt it owes the Skywalkers.

gift to me forever by LonelyLavenderBones, @luminoustico, TazWren, @thewayofthetrashcompactor

Palpatine has remained dead. Ben Solo followed in his mother’s footsteps and became the Senator of Chandrila, his mother training him in the Force instead of sending him to Luke. And, instead of being left on Jakku, Rey has been trained in the Force from childhood to help redeem the Palpatine name in the eyes of the galaxy's highest social circles.Now the princess of the ultimate Sith is due to make her debut, on the arm of her betrothed, Armitage Hux. But, the Force still has plans for Rey Palpatine and Ben Solo.

My own canonverse Reylo fics:

Rise

Ben Solo and Rey fake their deaths after Exegol and live their lives.

It was not Death, for I stood up

Emperor Palpatine lied on Exegol; Rey is not his granddaughter. Rey sets off on a journey, led by Obi-Wan Kenobi, to bring Ben Solo back from the World Between Worlds.

luminous beings are we

Rey and Ben survive Exegol.

the healing balance

The battle was over; the war was won. The Finalizer was a smoking ruin; General Hux’s attempted mutiny had backfired as the Resistance attacked and finally incapacitated the First Order leadership. Kylo Ren was missing, presumed dead at the hands of the last Jedi, who must have succumbed to her own injuries. Neither body was found. So said the initial official report of the aftermath.

Aggressive Negotiations

It was a shame, really, that Rey did not want her new assignment, did not want to be tempted by Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala’s grandson.

Calligraphy and Atonement

Ben Solo spends his time in exile trying not to think of Rey and keeps failing.

beam that lights the way home

The star lit their path to each other, and lit their way home together.

food for the soul

Rey struggles with new food and the knowledge that Kylo Ren is her soulmate.

you burn with me

Rey's soulmark burns when she meets Kylo Ren for the first time.

light brings forth hidden truths

Light brings forth hidden truths, and demonstrates the Force's balance.

Falling Embers

Rey takes Kylo Ren's hand after they have killed Snoke and his Praetorian Guards.

Force of Light

After celebrating the end of the war and Wookiee Life Day on the Resistance base, Rey heads out into the snow to meditate. Kylo Ren goes out after her...and learns the true reason for the season.

Wanting

Kylo Ren has wanted things his whole life.

My other fic rec lists:

#reylo #rffa writers #canonverse #fan fiction #fic recs #my writing

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redrobin-detective · 6 years ago

Text

Sometimes You Gotta Wing It

“Mr. Angel, Mr. Snake,” Wensely says primly from his spot on the grass. Since the last time Crowley and Aziraphale had visited Tadfield and the demon had transformed into his serpent form to scare the Them and instead delighted them, they had called him nothing since. He did a horrible job pretending he didn’t love the name. “Can you show us your wings?”

“Whut?” Crowley said with a little raised eyebrow, pulling his head up from where it was leaned up against a tree. He’d been counting how many years it had been from the 14th century, quite delightful really.

“I beg pardon?” Aziraphale breathed out, dramatically putting his hand to his chest like a dainty southern bell.

“Well, Adam was telling us you had big wings. He saw them during the uh,” the boy’s face scrunched up, unable to properly articulate nor even well remember the events at the airfield. Just that the world hadn’t ended and two weirdos claiming they were angels and demons checked up on them every once in a while. “Thing that happened, they came out like uh, was it a whoosh?” he asked, the latter question being directed to his leader.

“Or was it a pop?” Brian asked, popping his lips for effect.

“Or a loud bang like throwing pots down a staircase?” Pepper joined in.

“Why ever would you throw pots down a staircase,” Anathema asked wearily from over her book. She ended up watching the Them a lot, the only adult in the village who could somewhat control them, and always made sure to be there when the Book Stealers were lurking about.

“Because you’ve gone potty?” Newt suggested helpfully with a wry, knowing little grin. He was only here because Anathema was which he now regretted as she bonked him over the head with her book.

“Anyhow,” Adam diverted with a roll of his eyes, “there really wasn’t a sound, more like how wind goes through leaves, you blinked and they were there but, yeah, can we see them again?”

“Sure,” Crowley shrugged.

“Absolutely not,” Aziraphale thundered.

The pair looked at each other with equally confused faces.

“You can’t just,” the angel hissed.

“Why not?” the demon responded, already sitting up a bit to remove his leather jacket. Next to him, Aziraphale set down his travel thermos of tea and fumbled with his hands like he had no idea what to do with them.

“They’re children,” there are certain incredulous looks you can only give people you’ve known a very, very long time and are very, very fond of and they’ve just said something incredibly, amazingly stupid. Given the history between them, the look Crowley gave Aziraphale was so withering, the humans in the vicinity had to avert their eyes.

“I’m showing them my wings not my w-”

“Ahem,” Anathema interrupted, loudly clearing her throat. Crowley continued to pull off his jacket, neatly hanging it on one of the low-lying branches as he stood up from underneath the tree.

“I don’t see what you’re all riled up for, angel, it’s not like we’re hiding from them and besides, its good to stretch out the old wing bones once in a while,” Crowley insisted, rolling his shoulders before pausing in thought. “Actually, before the whole Apocalypse thing, I hadn’t seen your pearly whites in a while.”

“You can’t just,” Aziraphale emphasized tightly holding onto his hands before letting go and taking a short breath. “Our wings are divine gifts from God, they are not- you can’t just take them out when you see fit. By pulling them out they leave God’s domain and become material. It’s... disrespectful.”

Crowley lowered his sunglasses at his partner is stunned disbelief. “Are you telling me you never open your wings up here on Earth. Even in private.”

“Well I uh. Yes, that is indeed what I am saying,” Aziraphale said confidently only not really as he recognized the determined, mischievous look in the wily serpent’s eyes. He stalked over and dragged the angel to his feet, immediately working on pulling off the other’s jacket.

“Oh dear,” Newt said even as the Them cheered. “Maybe we really ought to take the children away before more clothes are removed.”

“Get off of me, I mean it you... you... Anthony!” Aziraphale said, slapping the demon’s hands away even as Crowley successful at prying off his jacket.

“Oh don’t be such a wet blanket,” Crowley teased only to catch sight of the genuinely uncomfortable look on the angel’s face. He sneered and stepped back a little, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Look you called your wings gifts? Yeah, well gifts are meant to be used, loved, shared or else they don’t mean nothin’. God loves you, probably loved me at one point before I asked annoying questions so we got these wings.” His words were emphasized by a uncovering of dark raven colored wings suddenly materializing out of convenient slits on his shirt, stretching high up to the heavens before settling comfortably on his back.

The Them ohhed and ahhed, immediately getting up and running their small hands through the dark feathers, the wings twitching minutely at their touch. Even Anathema and Newt, gazed with open wonder at the sight of what looked like a man with the wings of a bird. Aziraphale’s hurt expression softened somewhat at the gentle feeling of simple happiness radiating from the humans.

“I had to fall from Heaven to appreciate what I was given, I don’t want the same to happen to you,” Crowley said, once more pushing his sunglasses up and turning down to advise the children to be gentle. He didn’t want to see Aziraphale smile, see his shoulders relax, see him mull over Crowley’s words like they were important, like they were important. He did smile, just a little, at the barely imperceptible sound of unfurling wings and the burst of white out of the corner of his eye.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, shaking himself out a little as a few loose feathers fell to the ground and quickly evaporated into light. “I suppose it’s been a little while since I’ve tidied them.” But despite the mess, the children still flocked to him, running their grubby, dirty fingers along his pristine white wings. But that didn’t seem so important, nothing really seemed so urgent in the days following what almost was the end of the world.

Certainly nothing could be more important than the sound of children laughing, young lovers holding hands under a tree watching and the most important person in his life, standing there with dark wings lighting up in the sun, almost but not quite, appearing angelic in the sunlight. And he supposed his wings too, hidden somewhat by the treetops appeared a little darker, a bit more demonic. But that was the beauty of the Earth, you could be whatever you wanted regardless of where you came.

“When we get back to London, we’ll head back to my place and I’ll clean those up for you a bit,” Crowley said casually as he playfully lifted his wings out of reach as Brian tried to snag a feather. “You can return the favor, there’s some in the back I haven’t been able to reach in ages.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said with a light, contented tone. Some Heavens couldn’t be found in the skies but right here on solid ground. “I would like that.”

#good omens #you ever uhhhhhhh just like really really need to write something #I was very suddenly hit with Wing Feels and needed to write it #not even gonna bothering tagging anything else cause this is kinda lame #but it was fun

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ezrisdax-archive · 5 years ago

Note

Maybe five flowers aerith gifted to tifa and one tifa gave to her? I dunno I always love confession through flowers and the thought of tifa running to cloud for help interpreting what it could mean.

also here on ao3

One – peony (luck)

“Aerith, do me a favor.” Tifa’s hand was shaking, both inrage for what had just happened to Wedge and in worry and she couldn’t seem tomake it stop, and her voice wavered as she spoke. “I have a bar called ‘SeventhHeaven’ in this neighborhood. There’s a little girl named Marlene there…”

A hand reached out to clasp hers and the shaking wasmomentarily stopped by her surprise. She looked up to see Aerith staring at herwith a solemn expression.

“Don’t worry. I’ll put her somewhere safe.” Aerith promisedand Tifa let out a shaky breath of relief. Aerith let go of her hand andstarted fiddling with her bracelet suddenly, pulling out a flower that had beenattached to it.

“Before you go…” Aerith took her hand back and slipped theflower stem into a buckle of the long gloves she wore and then slid her fingersdown to hold Tifa’s hand again. It looked strange, a bright pink with softpetals against the black of her gloves. “It’s for luck.” Aerith explained andgave her a bright smile that Tifa nearly melted at.

“So’s this.” Aerith leaned in to press a kiss to Tifa’s cheek and pulled backwith a giggle as Tifa’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “You’ve got this.”Aerith jerked her head towards Wedge. “And I’ve got this. Don’t worry, we’llsee each other again soon.”

The pillar shook and Cloud yelled her name and Tifa pulledback with one last nod at Aerith.

We’ll see each otheragain soon.

She held onto those words and the flower that Aerith hadgiven her.

Two – campanula (thankyou/affection)

In the rush to get out of Midgar they hadn’t gotten much inthe way of supplies. Cloud had split the party up, taking Barrett and Red XIIIwith him and leaving Tifa and Aerith to manage their own way to Kalm. They hadonly one tent between them and Aerith was struggling to get it up as theycamped for the night.

Tifa tried to restrain her laughter but couldn’t help it.

“Here,” She said as the tent fell yet again, “I’ll show you.”As they set it up together and uncomfortable silence fell over them and Tifasighed. “I’m sorry, by the way. I was the one who got you involved in takingcare of Marlene and that got you caught.”

Aerith frowned at her. “That’s silly, don’t blame yourself. Iwould have done it either way. And you did come to get me.” She bumped Tifa’sshoulder with her own. “So thank you.”

She felt warmsuddenly and busied herself with the tent, getting it up in record time. “Sothis is really your first time outside of Midgar?” She asked, aiming for adistraction.

Aerith tapped her chin with her index finger in thought. “ThatI can remember. I always wanted to go outside of it.” She looked around with adreamy smile. “It’s so green out here, so many flowers.”

Tifa winced a little at the mention of flowers, she’d lostthe one that Aerith had given her. It was too bad because it had been ratherpretty. “You should get some seeds.” She blurted out, “So you can grow more inMidgar. If we ever come back that is.” Tifa sighed and dragged a hand over herface, suddenly feeling exhausted. “I always thought Seventh Heaven would looknicer if I could fill the store with flowers…” She mumbled idly.

Aerith clapped her hands together. “I’ll grow you some then.”She stuck her hand out. “Help me find seeds and I’ll fill your store withflowers. Deal?”

Tifa took her hand, wishing she wasn’t wearing her gloves soshe could feel Aerith’s warm skin under her own properly and then flushing atsuch a thought. She cleared her throat, brushing that idea away. “Deal. Weshould probably get some sleep though.” She noticed Aerith stifling a yawn andnudged her towards the tent. “I’ll take first watch.”

When she woke up the next day the tent was empty but shecould hear humming outside. She blearily opened her eyes and then blinked atthe pink in front of them. She focused and made out a flower resting on thepillow next her, it looked like a small white bell with pink around the edges.

“Another flower…?” She said groggily, her brain still tryingto catch up with what was going on. She took it, twirling it lightly in herfingers and smiling.

“Good morning!” Aerith chirped, opening up the tent flap.

“I thought I was supposed to help you gather flowers.” Tifateased, holding up the one her hand in question.

“They’ll be more times.” Aerith waved her hand, brushingaside the comment. “We’ve got a long ways to go still.”

Three – blue water hyacinth(sincerity)

They’d chosen to remain at the beach while waiting for Cloudto return from scouting Shinra airfield, Red XIII had chosen to lounge on somerocks under the sun, willfully ignoring Yuffie trying to sneak up on him, whileBarret and Tifa sat on the beach next to each other.

Aerith had been delighted by the water and had rucked herskirt up to wade up into it up to her calves, giggling when fish came to nibbleon her toes.

Tifa watched her, resting her chin on her knees and smiling.

“Something funny?” Barret asked next to her and she glancedover a little embarrassed at being caught staring.

“I was just thinking it’s at least nice we get to see theworld.” She deflected, it was a thought she had.

“Nice we get to or she gets to?” He jerked his head towardsAerith and then grinned widely at Tifa. “Or you get to see it with her?”

“Barret!” Tifa groaned, hitting him lightly on his arm as heguffawed loudly. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh but you want it to be.” He guessed. “Two of you havebeen getting close.”

“She’s been through a lot.” Tifa mumbled. “We all have.” Shelooked over at Barret again. “You doing okay yourself? You know Aerith’s momwill take good care of Marlene.”

He frowned and rubbed at his head, hand brushing over hisshort trimmed hair. “I know. Hate leaving her like that though.”

Tifa leaned against Barret in quiet support and only pulledaway when the sound of wet feet on sand got her attention.

Aerith stopped short in front of her, grinning widely, andTifa noticed then that she was soaked.

“What happened?” She asked, scrambling up to make she Aerithwas okay.

Aerith laughed, “Just a wave. I wanted to show you somethingthough.” She reached over to take Tifa’s hand, pulling her towards the beachand Tifa shot Barret an apologetic look as he just laughed them.

At least that had pulled her friend out of his funk.

She had taken her gloves off so she didn’t get sand in them andstuck them in her pack so this time there was nothing blocking Aerith’s sunwarmed hand from her own. She hesitantly twined their fingers together andsmiled softly when Aerith looked back in delight.

“This way.” Aerith pulled her closer to a section of greenleaves floating in the water near the dock. She stopped short of it, letting goof Tifa’s hand and stepping into the water. “I didn’t realize there wereflowers that grew like this.” Aerith said excitedly, pointing in the middle ofthe section where Tifa could make out pale blue flowers with a stamp of yellowin the middle of the petals.

Her hand felt too cold suddenly despite the heat bearingdown on them and she itched to take Aerith’s hand again.

If Aerith was bothered by her silence she didn’t show it,leaning down to pluck one of the flowers and walking back over to Tifa to tuckit behind her ear. “I think it looks better over here.” Aerith said, stillsmiling and Tifa sucked in a breath.

Aerith’s tilted her head for a moment, confused, and then asly smile drew on her lips as she leaned in just a little. Her eyes were abrilliant shade of green matched only by the leaves that floated in the waterbehind them and Tifa reached up, tucking stray strands of hair that had gottenfree of Aerith’s braid back behind her ear.

There was a lot going on around them, pressure that neitherof them wanted, but in that moment it faded into the background and Tifastepped closer. Her hips bumped Aerith’s and she dropped her hand to rest onAerith’s hip, drawing her ever in.

Before she could close what little distance did remainbetween them however Red XIII let out a howl followed by Yuffie’s loud cackling,making them both jerk back. She took comfort that this time Aerith was blushingas well and let her hand slide away from Aerith’s hip to take her hand.

“We should go see what that’s about.” Tifa said reluctantly.The moment was broken and though she wanted it back there just wasn’t the timefor it then.

All she could hope was there would be in the future.

Four – jonquil (desirefor affection returned)

When she woke up in the Gold Saucer inn they’d taken refugein for the night Aerith wasn’t there. Tifa jerked up, looking around the roomin a panic. Yuffie was snoring lightly in the bed next to hers but Aerith’s bedwas empty, only the sheets pulled back were proof she had been there.

Her heart thundered in her chest, worry constricting her,had Aerith been taken? Was she missing again? How had Tifa missed it? Sherushed to get herself ready and bolted out the door, hearing Yuffie yell incomplaint at being woken up behind her.

She saw movement from the corner of her eye in the courtyardand tensed, only relaxing when she saw that it was Aerith standing out there.She must have gone outside to get some air, Tifa’s shoulders fell back, thestress of the moment melting away.

“Aerith?” She asked quietly as she stepped towards her. Theyboth jumped at the loud sounds that suddenly blared around them, announcinganother Chocobo race happening. Tifa smiled wryly at her, rubbing at her neck, “Didyou want to go see the races? We could sneak off together.” She offered,shooting Aerith a mischievous smile, figuring that if Aerith was out here shecould use the distraction.

Aerith took her hand, “I was thinking something quieter, oh!Gondola ride!” She pointed towards a sign. She tugged Tifa towards it, “Everythingis supposed to be free tonight.” She explained. “I was thinking of coming toget you anyway.” Aerith looked back with a wink, making Tifa laugh.

They settled on the gondola, facing each other as it began itstour.

“I keep having these dreams.” Aerith began withoutprompting, staring up at the night sky. “The last of the Ancients…”

Tifa frowned, not liking how morose Aerith sounded in thatmoment and scooted over so she was sitting right next to Aerith to her to dropan arm over Aerith’s shoulder, pulling her into an embrace. “You might be thelast of the Ancients but you’re not alone. We’re all here for you. I’m here foryou.”

Aerith looked over at her, the moonlight against her skinmade her look strangely ethereal, like she could fade away any minute and Tifa suppresseda shudder at the thought.

“Oh,” Aerith pulled away slightly, “I found something. Iwent for a walk earlier.” She explained and reached into the bag at her sidefor something. She held out a yellow flower to Tifa with a long stem. “Yuffiepointed these out to me earlier.” Aerith’s eyes sparkled as she grinned, “Andno date is complete without flowers.”

Tifa took the flower, letting her fingers slide over Aerith’sgently. “A date, hunh?” Tifa said, her other arm still over Aerith’s shouldersand she slid in closer.

“Tifa,” Aerith breathed out her name like it was holy. “Youdo know that we’re dating.”

“You can just come right out and say it?” Tifa felt a littleembarrassed that she lacked the ability to, all her words just got tongue tiedbetween her mind and her mouth. “I’m glad.” She said, dropping the flower shewas holding to her lap so she could reach up to cup Aerith’s cheek. She waswearing her gloves again but at least they were fingerless and let her brushher fingertips against Aerith’s skin.

Fireworks went off around them, sparking their world indifferent colours as Tifa finally leaned in to kiss her. Aerith’s eagerlyreturned the kiss, reaching up to cradle Tifa’s cheeks between her hands andangle the kiss deeper. She smelled like the flowers she was always collectingand Tifa would never again be able to look at one without thinking of Aerith.

Aerith’s lips shone in the bright light of the fireworkswhen she pulled back and Tifa rested her forehead against Aerith’s, just takingin the moment.

“You never told me.” Tifa began, searching for something tosay. “Do all these flowers have meanings?”

Aerith laughed and pulled her in for another kiss. “You’lljust have to find that out yourself.” She teased and only slid away when the gondolastopped. They stepped out together, one of her hands holding Aerith’s and theother holding the flower she’d been given.

“Aerith…there’s something I need to say.” To explain howdeep her affection for Aerith ran for instance. It wasn’t something she’dexpected when they’d first met but now she couldn’t imagine a life withoutAerith there to laugh with her.

“I…” Tifa swallowed hard, looking over to Aerith watchingher with patience, letting her take the time to get the words out.

Suddenly Aerith startled however. “Is that Cloud chasingCait Sith?” She asked, looking somewhere behind Tifa.

Tifa looked over to see it in fact was and frowned. “Somethingisn’t right.” She turned back to Aerith who nodded at her solemnly. “Let’s go.”

Later. She’d tell Aerith later.

Five – pink camellia(love/longing for someone)

Aerith was gone.

Cloud had theorized that she’d run off to get Holy, towardsthe Ancient temple, but all Tifa could think about was that she was gone.

She blinked back the tears of frustration and sadness in hereyes. “How could you?” She asked the nothingness around her. “I could havehelped, you didn’t need to do this alone…”

She punched the wall in front of her in frustration, leavinga dent in it and not feeling any better.

Her quarters were too empty without Aerith there and shepaced in them, wishing for both time and the ship to go faster so they couldreach Aerith.

A flash of pink caught her eye and for a brief moment sheallowed herself to hope that it was Aerith but when she turned all she saw wasa flower lying on her bedside table. At first she thought it was the same asthe first flower Aerith had given her but squinting at it she could see thedifferences. A note lay next to it and she picked it up.

I’m sorry, this issomething I have to do as the last Cetra. I feel like I’m being led there. I’llcome back when it’s all over.

It was similar to what Cloud had claimed Aerith said in hisdreams except of course for the small sentence underneath all that.

I love you.

She left the flower by her pillow and let the scent carryher to dreams filled with Aerith.

+ One (arbutus (theonly one I love), orange blossom (eternal love), alstroemeria (devotion), asiaticlilies (get well), forget me not (true love/memories))

Tifa replaced the flowers next to the bed where Aerithrested as she had every week since they’d saved the world. Aerith still hadn’tawoken from her coma since casting Holy and the near death wound inflicted onher by Sephiroth and Tifa hated seeing her like that- lying there with her hairstrewn around her having and not moving except by the slight rise and fall ofher chest.

“I figured out what they mean.” She said, sitting down inher usual chair next to Aerith’s bed. “Cloud helped me look them up.” Shebrushed her thumb against Aerith’s hand, resting her fingers on top of Aerith’s.“Mine don’t look as nice.” Tifa admitted, laughing to herself. “You can wake upand tell me what makes a better bouquet later, okay?”

There was still no answer and Tifa’s shoulders fell. Shewished she could do something other than wait. When Cloud was in a coma she’dused their shared background to bring him out of it but with Aerith no amountof feelings that Tifa felt could wake her.

“Don’t worry, I’ve been keeping an eye on your flowers atthe church. I haven’t planted anything new but the ones there are still growingfine.” She forced herself to continue. “Marlene’s been helping me with those. Igot these ones outside though, Yuffie and Cloud help me get them once a week.”She nodded towards the flowers she’d placed there. “Though some of them don’tmake Yuffie’s care.” She winced, thinking of the trampled flowers and Yuffie’ssheepish look.

“Just…wake up, please. I need still need to tell yousomething important.” Tifa leaned over to brush a kiss against Aerith’s temple.She sat there for a little while in silence before Barret’s call for her leadher downstairs and to work for the day.

Seventh Heaven remained mostly empty however, no deliverorder requests came in and Tifa sighed in boredom, shutting her eyes only for aminute and dozing off. She woke when a thump came from upstairs, making her jerkand glance towards Aerith’s room. She bolted up the stairs, the humming sheheard halfway up there gave her pause and her heart felt like it was poundingso hard it had reached her throat trying to escape.

She opened the door, freezing at the sight of Aerith who hadclearly just taken a shower with her hair soaked through as it was. She wascombing through it in a way Tifarecognized as her getting ready to braid it.

“Aerith.” Tifa said, so softly she wasn’t sure Aerith couldeven hear her.

Aerith stopped however and then glanced over, relaxing whenshe saw Tifa and smiling at her. “Guess I overslept.”

Tifa’s mouth felt dry and she forced herself to swallow,returning Aerith smile hesitantly. She still wasn’t sure this wasn’t all adream and she was back downstairs. “A little.” She teased, sounding morenonchalant than she felt. “I was waiting.”

“Sorry about that.” Aerith reached out to take her hand,warm and alive and Tifa grasped at her fingers trying to keep that feeling inplace.

“I had something to tell you.” Tifa said, stepping incloser.

Aerith’s eyes flickered back towards the flowers and then toTifa. “I think I heard. And here I thought I was supposed to fill this placewith flowers.” Her lips curved upwards, every bit the mischievous smile thatTifa had missed.

The kiss was hesitant at first, Tifa’s wariness getting thebest of her but it grew as each second passed and she realized this wasn’t allin her head. She couldn’t stop, all the desperation she’d been feeling the lastmonth getting to her and she pulled Aerith closer to wrap one arm around herwaist and the other to tilt Aerith’s head back for a better angle of this kiss.

They parted but didn’t pull away from each other, Aerith’shands rested on her hips and she looked at Tifa with warm affection.

“The flowers are nice.” Tifa said, breaking the silence. “ButI don’t need them. Just you.”

Aerith’s laughter was muffled by another kiss and thenanother.

And one more just because.

#aerti #aerith gainsborough #tifa lockhart #beej writes #wow I'm nervous about posting this #Anonymous #replies in thirty minutes or its free #aerti fic

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zephrbabe · 7 years ago

Text

MythMarch - Dragon #2

Creature: Dragon

Ship: Darcy/Bucky/Rumlow

Written for @ibelieveinturtles

Word count: 1128

Rating: T

Or, read on AO3 here.

“Lucky Lewis, right?”

“Huh?” Darcy turns away from adjusting Pern’s belly band. One of the yellow-coated eyrie handlers shifts a few yards away, making last-minute checks to a dragon’s harness and kit, while the riding wingman checks its other side. The handler is slight and quick at his task, and when he turns to look at her again, he’s younger than she expected. One of the trainees, then.

“Lucky Lewis, who flew 40 kilometers into military airspace then dragon-jumped to avoid radar, just to steal back a requisitioned iPod? That's you, right?”

Darcy wants to tuck her hair behind her ears, but it’s already braided back. “Uh, yeah. I didn't think anyone out here knew about that."

Her criminal trespass might have been ballsy enough to get her recruited to Romanoff’s stealth program, but she hadn't thought it wouldn’t end up public knowledge.

“Everyone out here knows about that.” He doesn’t see Darcy roll her eyes. Of course the Air Cavalry would have heard of her antics the second the inquiry was over.

“I was still in school; I read about you in Dragons & Flight magazine. Just the nickname, of course. My gran said you had to be so lucky to make up for the stupidity.” He seems to realize what he’s said and flushes pink.

Darcy laughs. “Pern is all the luck I need.”

Pern chirrups at her name and flicks her occipital spines, eager to get into the air. They're going to be running maneuvers; Pern and Darcy need more practice doing breaks and aerial pickups. Pern loves dumping her rider mid-air; Darcy, though, is the only one she'll catch up again.

The heavy downdraft of a dragon executing a precipitous break whips Darcy's unzipped coat open and catches her attention. The airfield is busy, as usual, but wingmen usually land their dragons further away from unfamiliar animals. Pern doesn't seem to bothered by the green drake, but then again she mostly just dislikes people.

Darcy has seen this dragon before, though for a second, she doesn't know from where.

The rider leaps down, whips off his helmet with a laugh- his sweaty hair falls like a goddamn cinema hero- and it's flying ace Bucky Barnes and his Francesca, a huge American Drake, sleek and fast and full of fire. Not far behind, America's favorite son, Steve Rogers, lands with Saoirse, Francesca’s clutch-mate. (Rogers and Saoirse are the darlings of dragon flight, even better known to the public than the rakish Barnes and charming Francesca. News articles and Air Cavalry advertisements feature Captain Rogers and his dragon on a regular basis.) Saoirse’s famous blue coloring is a counterpoint to Francesca's vibrant green.

Judging from their harness and the day’s field schedule, they’ve been practicing their moves. Darcy doesn’t doubt they’ve been honing their already flawless coordination; she’s seen the duo execute strike maneuvers with enviable precision. She’s never seen either wingmen or dragons this close, though. A rookie in the stealth squad does not run in the same circles as the poster boys of American dragonflight.

With a pat to Francesca’s neck, Barnes strides across the open field, towards the flight office. He twists to call something to Rogers, and when he turns back, he’s laughing. His smile is fucking radiant. Darcy is dumbstruck, feeling her blood rush into her cheeks. She knew she had a bit of a dragon rider kink, but this is just ridiculous. She’s seen Barnes in Air Cavalry propaganda films and never had this reaction. But standing there with her helmet at her hip, flight coat not even zipped yet, Darcy is struck with a case of lust at first sight.

Pern rustles her wings behind Darcy, drawing Barnes’ eye. The fresh smile that curves his lips is sin itself. He's giving her a once-over so blatant she can see it from fifty paces, and he's only getting closer.

The wingman near Darcy peeks over his dragon’s neck to ask the eyrie handler, “Is that Wing Commander Rumlow? I thought he was stationed in California.”

Decorated war hero and unparalleled badass Brock Rumlow? Darcy has got see the guy who had his dragon shot out from under him and still completed the mission. The guy who led the most decorated wing of the Air Cavalry to new levels of infamy. The guy green recruits wet themselves over being assigned to the same base.

He’s in his service uniform, hat and all. Normally, a man in uniform doesn’t do it for Darcy, but Rumlow has a contained swagger she can’t look away from. Black hair and that jaw- those don’t hurt, either. He’s heading out onto the field, insignia shining, and Darcy doesn’t miss how his hand flexes like he’s holding a dragon’s lead. Damn, what she wouldn’t give to see that man astride a dragon.

“Big wigs are having some kind of powwow,” another eyrie handler says, coming up alongside Pern. Darcy’s dragon twists her head to hiss at him. No one is going to be checking her harness but Darcy, whenever she peels her eyes off Sex Walking.

Then the man strides past their knot of dragons and riders and techs, into full view of the air field, and Darcy glances at Barnes in time to see his smile change to one of surprised delight.

Barnes picks up his pace, jogging and then running. He’s like a moving advertisement for the Air Cavalry, tall and broad-shouldered in his flight suit, with wind-reddened cheeks and a determined trajectory. (Behind him, Steve has the leads of both dragons, shaking his head with a grin.) Barnes is smiling wide as anything, and Darcy feels a pinch of disappointment? envy? when Barnes’ momentum crashes him into Rumlow's arms. Rumlow’s hand in Barnes’ hair crushes their mouths together.

Oh no. They're so hot. Darcy doesn’t even consider looking away.

Barnes is gripping the back of Rumlow’s command jacket with both hands. The Commander’s other hand is at his hip, tugging him closer. They can’t seem to get close enough, tilting their heads to deepen their kiss. Darcy is gonna be taking the image of the two fighters wound around each other to bed tonight, that’s for sure.

Barnes pulls back, looking at his man, then dips forward to say something in his ear. Barnes is just that little bit taller than the Commander that the stoop of his shoulders to reach the proper height makes Darcy ache to stand tall between those two towering wingmen.

They both turn in Darcy’s direction, Barnes’ and Rumlow’s eyes marking her with the precision of winged predators.

Rumlow’s gaze takes her in the way Barnes’ had, and Darcy shivers from the wind through her coat.

Rumlow says something, and both men grin.

She is so fucked.

If she's lucky.

#darcy lewis #bucky barnes #brock rumlow #darcy x bucky x brock #dragon #modern dragon rider au #one of my favorite aus #so far

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zombierunfiction · 6 years ago

Text

Season 2 Mission 27: Banditos

Once they had gotten onto the train they realized they had a problem. The barrels of fuel blocked their path to Harry so they decided to go along the top of the train. But that posed it’s own set of problems. Wind and dirt was kicked up at both Sara and Charlotte as they ran as best as they could towards the front of the train.

Sam, however, was taking a delight in this. “You’re running along the top of a train, guys! You are really running along the top of a train!” He laughs happily. “How cool is that?”

“It’s actually very windy and unpleasant, Sam.” Charlotte said shielding her eyes from the dirt. “We keep getting bits of grit in our eyes.”

“Yeah, they never seem to stress that aspect in action movies. I mean, you never saw Daniel Craig pausing to take out his contact lenses, and he ran along the tops of moving trains a lot. Before he became one of the living dead, that is. Obviously.” Sam said as a bullet clangs off the train car.

“Also, we’re being shot at.” Sara said.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve checked with Nadia at New Canton. We have no idea who those mysterious guys on horseback are. It’s like they’re strangers who just rode into town.” Sam said as more gun shots rang out.

“They seem extremely keen to stop this train!” Sara shouted.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry, you’re out of their range.” Sam said.

Charlotte looked back at the ground seeing them starting to catch up. “Sam they’re on horses. Horses are faster than us.”

“Yeah. When you get tot he front, tell Harry to give it some welly. We’ve got to get this aviation fuel to Bert Airfield. The other runners are making their way there right now to unload the train. The Major’s entire plan depends on this fuel.” Sam said quickly.

“Speeding up even more could be dangerous. We don’t know what’s up ahead.” Charlotte said as she jumped between two cars. “They could have sabotaged -” A gun shot rang out close to her. “Never mind, lesser of two evils. If those bullets puncture a duel drum, this whole train could explode. Come on Sara. Only a couple more carriages to go.”

Sara nodded as they continued to run towards the front of the train. Once they got to the front of the train Sara and Charlotte jumped down to join Harry. “Ooh, hello, chaps!” Harry said happily but still fearful of the bandits.

“Can’t stay and chat, sorry! Sam says to speed up.” Sara said.

“But what’s the hurry?” Harry asked as Sara and Charlotte jumpped off either side of the train. Harry was heard muttering something about lunatics for jumping off the train. “Just try not to get shot, my lovelies!” He called out.

“Raider closing in from left and right.” Sam said quickly. “There’s a fork in the track just after that row of brick semis up ahead. You know, I always wondered why people bought houses on the train line. Anyone passing can see right in. I mean, look at that house, there, the one with the unfortunate pebble dash. I can see straight into the kitchen. They’ve got a row of little cacti along the windowsill.”

“That’s fascinating, Sam. Any thoughts on the actual mission?” Sara asked harshly.

“What? Oh, yeah, sorry. I need you to run on and see which branch of the track looks safest.” Sam said quickly.

“We’re on it.” Charlotte said as they ran ahead of the train heading down the tracks. After heading down seperate tracks Charlotte suddenly stopped looking ahead of her gasping. “Sam… there’s a concrete block on the left hand track. No way the train can get past it, and it’s going too fast to stop even if the brakes were working, which they’re not.”

“Yeah, yeah, but there’ss something else. I can see it through Sara’s head cam.” Sam said quickly.

“Yea I see it Sam. There’s someone tied to the track on the right hand fork. I think it’s the new Runner Six – Eric, isn’t it?” Sara asked.

“Owen.” Sam said quickly as Charlotte hung a right heading for where Sara was currently. “How did they even get ahold of him? He was suppoused to be with the group running directly to Bert Airfield!”

“Unless he stayed behind to admire that tall ship, leaving him running on alone after the main group. Easy target for the raiders.” Sara suggested.

“We need to give that guy more training.” Charlotte said.

“If we can somehow save his life now.” Sara said as they ran towards the points.

“You’re nearly at the points now. You’ll have to send the train to the left.” Sam said.

“Which is exactly what those horse riders want us to do!” Sara countered.

“I know! I know, but we haven’t got any choice! Tell Harry to jump off, he’ll be fine. We’ll just have to send Jeeps out for the fuel.” Sam finished.

Sara scoffed loudly. “And just what is it you think these guys are after? The train’s going right, Sam Greatest good of the greatest number. That fuel could save the whole damn country.”

“But Owen!” Sam exclaimed. “He hasn’t even finished his first run yet. Oh, for God’s sake, Eight, you didn’t even know his name! I’m not going to let him die.”

“Well I won’t let this mission fail!” Sara shouted as she sprinted ahead of Charlotte and changed the points so the train would start coming down the right hand track. “There done.”

“Five, please! I know you. You can’t just leave him there. You’ve got to try and save him.” Sam pleaded as Charlotte ran past Sara continuing on.

“I’m on my way. I’ll get him off the tracks.” Charlotte said quickly.

“Yes! That’s it, Runner Five – Run!” Sam cheered.

Charlotte ran as fast as she could towards Owen who was struggling against the ropes around him. “Help, Help! Please, help me!” He cried out.

“You’re nearly there, Five.” Sam said as Charlotte pushed her legs harder and faster.

Charlotte got to his side and knealt down beside him. “I’m here.” She started pulling on the ropes finding them tight.

“Oh Jesus, the train!” Owen cried out.

“Looks like he’s tied tight. You got a knife or something?” Sam asked.

Charlotte reached into her pocket and pulled out the K-Bar knife she had found. “Yea I got one.” She pulled the sheath off that she made out of duct tape and started cutting the rope.

“I don’t want to die! Not like this!” Owen whined loudly.

“Just remain calm I’ll get you out…” Charlotte said as she cut through the rope keeping him to the track and quickly worked on the rope around his ankles.

Once the rope was cut Owen stood up quickly pulling the ropes off his hands. “Aw, thanks mate! I owe you one. Thought I was dead for sure.”

“You will if you don’t get off the track!” Charlotte said pulling Owen off just as Harry blew past them.

Suddenly a shot rang out making both Charlotte and Owen duck fast. “Guys you need to get running, you’re not in the clear yet.” Sam said as Charlotte and Owen took off away from the bandits.

Harry looked over at them and smiled. “Thank goodness you’re alive, boy-o.”

“Glad to see you’re safe, Owen.” Sara said as she caught up with them.

Sam scoffed. “Yeah, no thanks to you!”

“Someone has to take the tough decisions, Sam, and we all know it won’t be you.” Sara snapped as they continued to run.

Harry leaned out of the window to speak to them. “I’m sorry, my lovelies, bit of a problem I tried to use the brakes when I saw Owen here tied to the track. Turns out they were working better than I thought! It slowed the trainr ight down! And we’ve lost our head of steam!”

“That’s alright, mate. You probably saved my life-” Owen started before a woman’s voice shouting from the bandits.

“Stop the train! Stop the train, or we’ll shoot to kill!”

“-only to have it take by those raiders! They’re closing in from either side, Sam!” Charlotte said quickly as they continued to run.

“Maybe it’s time to abandon ship.” Owen suggested.

“We’re not letting them have this train!” Sara shouted as another gunshot rang out making Harry shout.

“Bloody hell!” Owen cried out. “I think they hit Harry!”

“I’m alright, I’m fine!” Harry said sounding very pained. “It’s – ow! It’s only a flesh wound! Quite a painful flesh wound.” He held his arm tight as Sara spoke up.

“I’m not aborting this mission. We need that fuel.”

“It’s no good to any of us if you’re dead! Hang on, is that – are there people in front of you.” Sam said making Sara and Charlotte look over fast.

“Yeah! Very short people.” Sara said oddly.

“Wearing really silly uniforms.” Owen commented as Charlotte reconized Charlotte and Posey from the Owl and the Pussy Cat Patrol.

“Oh my God! It’s the Girl Guides!” Charlotte called happily.

Sam spoke up quickly. “Quick, you can’t let them get shot!”

Charlie ran over and met up with the group with a large smile on her face. “Hello! Good afternoon, Char. And you’re – our intel says Runner Eight, Sara.” She said as Sara looked at the girls in shock.

“Get out of here, you idiots! We’re under fire!” Sara shouted as Posey smiled brightly.

“We know, we’ve come to help! Here, take this Char, and head for the group on the left. We’ve been keeping them for the jamboree, but we can spare a few.” Posey said handing Charlotte a Roman candle then handing Sara one as well.

“What?” Sara asked before looking at the firework. “Oh, fireworks, I see! That’s… that’s brilliant, actually. Well done, uh..”

“Patrol Leader Todhunter!” Charlie said happily.

“You’ll need to get closer to set them off. Should scare the horses without risking blowing up the train. They used to scare my old pony, Cornflake. You’ll have to be quick – run!” Posey said as Charlotte and Sara went off their seperate ways. Gunshots rang out nearly hitting them several times.

“This is your last warning! Stop the train, or we’ll kill you all!” The bandit shouted.

“We can’t stop now. Eight’s in position. You’re close, too, Five.” Sam said quickly as more gunfire pingged off the side of the train.

“Concentrate your fire on the driver!” The bandit shouted.

“Harry’s completely exposed. We can’t wait any long. On my mark...” Sam said. “Three, two, one, and go!”

Charlotte pulled on the end and let the firework fire off with a screech and dozens of pops in the direction of the bandits. The horses reared up crying out tossing the riders off and onto the ground before taking off.

“It worked!” Charlotte shouted happily. “It actually worked!”

“’Be prepared!’ or is that the Scouts? Or uh, hang on, are they the same thing nowadays?” Sam asked. “Doesn’t matter. The horses have thrown all their riders. No way they’re coming after you now! Or running, either, what with the way their bottoms must be feeling. You’re home clear!”

Charlotte looks over seeing one of the horses run past her towards the tracks. “Uh… Sam? Do you see this? A horse, a bay with a dark mane? It’s heading straight for the train.” She said as Sam gasps.

“You have to stop it, Five!” He said quickly as the horse whinnies running fast. “It might derail the train!”

“Watch out for those hooves!” Owen cried out as he jumped out of the way.

The horse ran onto the track before stopping a good ways from the train. “Shit! It’s stopped on the tracks!” Charlotte said as he ran towards the horse.

“I mean, can’t the stupid thing see the train coming? Has it got a death wish? Just, oh, I don’t know. Can you uh, pick some gras for it, try to lure it away?” Sam asked.

“I think it can pick it’s own grass, mate.” Owen said.

“Oh God, I can’t watch!” Sam said as Charlotte ran as fast as she could knowing she only had one chance to stick this. She lept up behind the horse and pressed her hands to it’s backside and landed in the saddle making the horse rear suddenly with a whinny. Charlotte grabbed a hold of the reins putting her feet into the stirrups and kicking the horse to move which it did quickly while the train whizzed by.

“OH MY GOD!” Sam cried out. “That was amazing!”

“It was pretty bloody impressive, Five.” Owen said as Charlotte slowed the horse to a trot alongside the train. “The way you jumpped up into the saddle and grabbed the reins. It was like something out of a rodeo! And you got it off the track just in time.”

“The route ahead looks clear, the raiders have fallen back, and you can’t be more than a mile from Bert Airfield.” Sam said.

“Beaut! This Girl Guides are useful to have around and no mistake!” Owen said with a smile.

“And we got a horse! Time to take him home, Five. Ride’em, cowboy!” Sam said with a rather terrible American accent.

Charlotte laughed as she waited for the train to pass before riding over to Owen who looked up at her. “I’ll ride along side you until you get to the air field then run back with the others. Don’t serperate from the group again.”

Owen nodded quickly as Charlotte continued to trot alongside Owen. “So Five… where did you learn that jumpping trick?”

“My grand father had a horse farm. I spent my summers working there and riding horses. I used to drive my mother nuts with the tricks he taught me.” Charlotte said as she grinned.

“That’s amazing. You will have to teach me.” Sam said smiling.

“Gladly.”

< 74 >

Season 1 Beginning

Season 2 Beginning

#zombie #zombies run #zombie run #ZombieRun #zombiesrun #run #runner 5 #runner five #runner5 #runnerfive #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic

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strainingfororiginality · 7 years ago

Text

Chapter 9.1 - Timing

She called Ferraro and instructed that another airport be used for take off. Thomas was compromised. She warned Antonio that they would likely go to him for information and he informed her he was already trained for such a scenario. Of course he was. Quintus was prepared for everything it seemed, and she smiled with pride.

"They’ll be coming for answers." She warned him.

"I’ve already departed the premises. I am on the way to one of the safe houses." He assured her. “We have all been trained for such a … situation.”

"OK, but I don’t think it’ll matter." She countered, knowing that Ferraro didn’t have the same protections as her. Michael would be able to find him regardless. “They’ll still find you.”

"If that is certain, then what would you prefer me to tell them when they do?"

"Whatever keeps them distracted." She said. “And whatever keeps you alive.”

"Very good." He was so damn calm. “Also, may I ask what they are after, signora?”

"They wanna stop me." She admitted.

"Stop you from what?" He pried.

"From bringing Quintus home."

There was a discernible pause before he spoke again, finally showing some emotion as she detected relief in his voice. "Very good." He actually seemed very pleased with this. “But, may I ask … have you seen the news, signora?” His usually monotone voice now exposing concern.

"Not yet. Why?"

"Our own videos, of the lobby, show that man moving faster than even Mr. Sertorius is capable …" He stuttered.

She was fumbling with the phone in her trembling hands while she ran and she didn’t appreciate his meandering words. "Get to the point, please."

"There are videos of that … man? Is he of relation to you?"

"Mmm hmmm." They were quite similar and there was no need to deny it, but she urged him. “Get to the point, Ferraro.”

Another small pause. "After he left our building … there are other videos … He is shown ... flying?"

"Yep. He can do that. Anything else?"

"Yes, actually. One thing. The property you requested has been purchased."

She grinned. Finally some good news. "Good. That it?"

"Yes, signora. Best of luck. Happy Hunting."

As she finally came to the secondary airfield, the plane was already waiting for her and she smirked, appreciating Antonio so much right now. Quintus had trained him well indeed.

When her back hit the cushion of the private jet’s seat, she was finally relieved. The steward brought her a drink and though she couldn’t be affected by the alcohol within it, she enjoyed the coldness in her mouth. Her entire body was burning up and her hands were still shaking from everything that occurred.

"Get some rest. I’m sure you’re exhausted." EL finally speaking again. He had been entirely silent since telling her to move her ass and she could see that he was mulling over what he watched her do and she wasn’t sure how to explain it to him. “We’ll have a lot to talk about when you wake up.”

She almost laughed him. Her heart was beating so fast, there was no way she would be able to fall asleep … but as soon as that thought crossed her mind, her eyes closed and she was out.

"By the time I returned, she had packed our bags, but she gave no indication of our destination before the gun fire started." Thomas shrugged innocently as Gus threatened him with gun yet again.

"Puto, if don’t start talkin’--"

"I assure you ... Mr. Ferraro would know better than I." The Nazi said. “It is him that we should seek out.”

"We?" Dutch scoffed. “There is no we, you Nazi asshat. You aren’t part of our team.”

"Fraulein--" Thomas started.

"Actually." She bit back at him. “It’s FRAU now.”

"Ah yes." Thomas smiled devilishly, glancing down at her body and her face scrunched in discomfort as her arms folded across her chest and she realized he knew. “Frau … as much as it might discomfort you, we are all on the same team now.”

"We’ll see, waxy boy. When this is over … I’m gonna cap your strix ass, once and for all." Gus pushed the gun against Thomas’ temple again, attempting to threaten, but the strigoi only rolled his eyes in frustration.

They might have waited in the alley for the angel to return but when the sirens became more pronounced and they could hear officers searching on foot only a few streets away, Dutch looked back at her phone again, desperate for a plan to pop into her head.

"We can’t stay here." She warned. “We need to get off the street. People saw us coming out of the building. God, I bloody hope we aren’t in those videos of him … ” She made a motion of someone soaring in the air with her hand. “Swooooshing …”

Gus agreed, pushing the gun into Thomas’ back with gusto. "Yeah, but where?"

"We should stay here, no? He might not be able to find us--" Fet tried to counter.

"The Governor will be able to find you no matter where you are." Thomas interjected quickly. “We must get off the street.”

"Ok then …" They hadn’t really made plans beyond booking the flight and she stared down at her phone, considering where they might go next. She had never been to Rome before. “Fuck.”

"May I?" Thomas pointed to a locked side door in the alley.

"May you what, puto?" Gus’ brow furrowed as he jabbed the gun into the Nazi’s back again and Thomas’ patience melted away entirely. They had seen him move fast before, but it was still a shock when he spun around to face the angry Boxer. As the Nazi knocked Gus back against the brick wall of the building, the gun was already in his hands. Gripping the man’s neck tightly, Thomas began to squeeze gently.

Fet was already trying to fish out the gun hidden in his belt, but Thomas was already aimed directly at the Ukrainian’s head with the newly acquired pistol yet he never moved his glare from the Boxer’s now bulging eyes.

"Oh Fuck …" Dutch considered going for her own gun, but she was paralyzed as she stared at the barrell pointed directly at her husband’s face.

"Now …" Thomas said calmly, directly to Gus. “As I have said repeatedly, I am not your enemy any longer.” Releasing the hold slowly, he backed away from the gasping man. “Because, if I was ... all of you would already be dead.” Lowering the weapon from Fet, Thomas uncocked the pistol and offered it back to the angry Boxer, handle first.

Gus snatched the weapon back immediately as he considered snapping another insult at him, but as the thought grazed his mind, flashing lights down a side street captured his full attention and he shoved the gun back into his pants. "This don’t mean we’re cool."

"I would expect NOT, Mr. Elizalde. But for now ... “ Thomas pointed at the door he had indicated earlier and asked again. “May I?"

"May you what?!" Gus asked, but Thomas stepped forward, gripping the padlock on it and ripping it off with ease before gripping the handle and turning it until it snapped from his strength. As he swung the door in, the flashing lights grew closer and he waved them in. “Move your asses, please.”

All four fugitives piled into the unknown building, pulling the door shut behind them.

She knew she would wake up here. She walked through the meadow, running her hands over the top of the high blades of grass as she approached the campfire burning brightly in the distance. A smile was spread wide across her spotted face as she was almost giddy to tell them she had done it. She had finally done it!

She had altered time.

As she advanced, she heard them arguing … again. Always. Ellie … Sandalphon was usually so easy to get along with, but there was something annoyingly condescending about how Lilith spoke to her that pushed that ever elusive button to really tip her friend over the edge. Dawn had been known to push that button once or twice before.

"Ah. You are back. Good." Lilith chirped. “How was it?”

"How was what?" Dawn questioned as she sat back down at her side of the fire.

"Manipulating time." Sandalphon qualified and Dawn furrowed her nose.

Dammit. She wanted to tell them. They were such goddamn killjoys.

"You already knew?"

"Of course." Lilith snorted with delight. “Why do you think we showed you?”

"Well … that’s just great. You could have told me." Dawn said.

"If we told you that you would do it, then you wouldn't have done it." Sandalphon was laughing, shaking her head.

"Fine. Whatever." Why was she even back here? What was the point now? “Why am I back here? What the fuck’s next then? More training?”

"No. No more training. Now …" Lilith poked at the fire with her stick again as the smile faded from her face. “We meet for the last time and this Confluence will be complete.”

"And …" Sandalphon sighed heavily, turning as there was a rustling in the grass just behind Dawn; the sound of tiny and timid footsteps. As she spun to see what might be behind her, her best friend announced the new arrival. “We welcome our Fourth and final Sister … your grandmother.”

Grandmother … ?

Dawn stood, her mouth slightly agape as she faced the woman for the first time since she had sent her away. For the first time since Quintus’ last day on Earth.

"Hathų ..."

It was the back of a cafe but everyone had evacuated, likely because of the gunfire and tornadoes. They piled into the rear stock room that also seemed to serve as a break room. The TV was still on and Dutch lunged at the remote, turning up the volume, which didn’t help at all, since they were rattling off news in Italian. She flicked the channels until the BBC provided clear English for them to ingest.

"Italian weather authorities are reporting that three F-4 class tornadoes temporarily touched down near the Celio district of Rome. While tornadoes do occur in and around Rome, it is unprecedented that three of such magnitude would form simultaneously. The destruction is currently being evaluated and emergency crews are on the scene."

"Damn." Dutch’s more irrational side was hoping they had imagined that.

"And what is being called a miracle, with the substantial destruction caused, there have been absolutely no casualties reported."

"Wow. No casualties? Dat’s not even possible …" Fet’s sentence trailed off as everyone realized it was possible … wasn’t it?

"However, in other news …" The anchor said as several pictures of a frozen city were plastered across the screen. “The same cannot be said for the area surrounding Syracuse, New York in the United States.”

"Did she just say Syracuse?" Gus’ eyes grew wide.

"Located in the middle of the state, Syracuse is used to cold weather, but they are calling this the most extreme cold snap that the area has ever seen. Possibly that any area has ever seen. Initial reports are coming in that the area is currently at -40 degrees Celsius …"

"Did they just say -40? Holy fuck." Dutch stared at the images showing standing people in the city frozen solid and she was reminded of the last time they were there.

The newscaster stopped, touching her ear for clarification as the number even shocked her. "For those viewers who are unaware, -40 degrees Celsius is equivalent to winter temperatures in some parts of Antarctica. Unfortunately, as rescuers are just beginning to breach the frozen area, they have yet to find any survivors."

"Fuck the world. Not this again … Not this again … " Dutch flicked the television to mute as she dramatically flung herself down on the dirty couch, grabbing her head with her hands.

Thomas looked at the faces of his new companions and he cocked his head ot the right. "What is it? You have seen this before?"

"Yeah. It’s Lake Onondaga …" Gus stared at the TV with disbelief. “It’s frozen … again. I don’t get it though. What does it even mean?”

"Ahhhhhhh ... Then that is where it has been this whole time." Thomas stared at the television, understanding at once what it was.

"Where what is?" Fet seemed almost afraid to ask. “What is it? Ya know why it keeps freezing, don’t ya?”

"Oh yes, Mr. Fet. That is how one temporarily seals a gate."

"Seals a gate?" Dutch asked for clarity.

"Water has always been the conduit between the worlds." Thomas explained, remembering the Master explaining it to him several times during the course of their search for it. The Master had been searching for the gate before Thomas was relieved of their bond.

They knew it would have been around ground zero for Sadum and Amurah, but there are hundreds of small lakes in that area and having been fell and disconnected, all of the Ancients had been relieved of the knowledge of the gate’s exact location. It did not help matters when the Keepers of the Great Fire kept them at bay for months during the Fall.

"It is the only gate left in operation. It is where the souls pass through."

"Souls?" Dutch coughed. “Conduit? Gate?” Dutch asked. “What the fuck are you talking about? Gate to where?”

"The Gate to Heaven, my dear."

Broken Things - Clairity

Light bulbs in your head, they might be burnt out

Maybe rough around the edges, you barely function (function, function)

I'm tired, I can't carry all this hurt now (hurt now)

You're more to me than all these broken things (these broken things, these broken things)

"Dawn?" Hathų’s voice quaked with trembling uncertainty as her hand touching the side of her face where blood trickled down to her jawline. Her expression was full of confusion as she looked around the fire. “Where … where am I? Where is this? How ...”

Glancing back towards Lilith, Dawn expected the prophet to explain the situation to Hathų just as it had been explained to her, but Lilith only smiled in response, waving a hand towards them. "Go on. Explain it. Show me you’ve been paying attention."

Shit. It was like a pop quiz. She hated pop quizzes.

"This is the Confluence." Dawn said simply.

"What is …" Hathų brought her hand back from her head wound to survey the amount of blood present and then pressed it back against the deep gouge as she winced. “What is a … confluence?”

"It is the place where prophets dream." Sandalphon explained softly from her seat at the fire. She pointed an offering hand at the seat directly opposite of Dawn’s usual position. “Please, sit with us … She Who Hears. There are important things to discuss.”

"Where prophets dream? But … I cannot be here." Hathų said carefully, sitting down and looking across the fire into Dawn’s eyes, she took her seat on the uncomfortable log. “I am dead. I am no longer a prophet. I can no longer dream.”

"Oh my dear …" Sandalphon chirped with condescending glee. “You are always a prophet. A piece of your mind always exists in a state of dream, outside the flow of time. Your mind and everything that you are, will always be here, in this place.”

"But …" Hathų fought the words. “I have not dreamed of the future since I died. How did I get here ...” She reached up and touched her temple again, cringing as she did so. The wound was obviously sensitive to the touch.

"I called you all here." Lilith stated. “This confluence is mine.”

"Eleanor?" Hathų stared blankly at Lilith for a moment before turning to squint at Sandalphon now, her face full of growing confusion. “Then how are you here? You are not a prophet.”

"Actually …" Dawn said, pulling her knees tightly to her chest as she spoke. “Her name is Sandalphon.”

"San … The … Angel Prophet? This whole time?" Hathų whispered, hesitating for a moment . She took a deep breath in before turning to the dark-eyed woman to her right. “And you … I have seen your face before. You are Lilith, the First Prophet.”

"Yes. The Queen Prophet, herself." Sandalphon snorted the title with a tone that implied it was intended as half insult and half compliment.

"It is good to know that I am still so …" Lilith accepted it with pride as she smiled. “... infamous.”

Pulling her hand back from her wound again to look at the flow of blood, Hathų shook her head. "But, you are dead."

"Says another dead woman." Lilith responded with a laugh. “We are all dead at some point, are we not?”

"Yes, I am dead." Hathų remained entirely calm and Dawn envied her ability to do so. When she first arrived here, she was a wreck of emotion, but Hathų, the Princess Prophet, was collected and accepting as she took everything in slowly. “But, you are second dead. You no longer exist.”

Lilith smiled.

"In your time, maybe not. But this place exists outside of time." Dawn interjected and Hathų stared back at her descendant with wide eyes as she listened. “We are each here at different points in time.”

"Yes. Very good." Lilith was pleased. “And our fourth and final sister comes to us from the farthest point in the future which this confluence will touch.”

"Wait … so you are in the past from me?" Hathų’s eyes grew wide as she stared back at Dawn. “Dawn, YOU MUST STOP WHATEVER YOU ARE--”

"ENOUGH!" The fire flared up with massive strength as Lilith’s voice boomed. “It is too late to stop anything now. That is why you are here and why you were not allowed to come until now.”

"As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. It’s already too late, I’m afraid …" Sandalphon said with careful and sad words. “Everything is already in unstoppable motion. The scales have already tipped too far to go back to how it was.”

"What? What does that even mean?" Hathų’s calmness began to wane as she realized there was a conspiracy in play. “What is … in motion? What have you all done? Where … “ Her eyes burned with desperation as she stared at Sandalphon. “Where is the Great Spirit?”

"We do what we have to do." Lilith said firmly. “What must occur for everything to continue.”

"For everything to continue?" Hathų pressed. “What are you talking about?”

"The world must be allowed to evolve, She Who Hears." Sandalphon said. “As the Daughters of Time, we are the harbingers who must usher in that change, regardless of the cost to ourselves.”

"Daughters of Time? What … cost?" Hathų swallowed deeply. “I do not understand. Why? Why me? Why Dawn?”

"Because, princess, you have the next choice to make." Lilith said, never tearing her eyes from the fire and the reflection of the flames danced across her dark irises. “And ... it will prove to be the hardest of all of us.”

"A choice?" Hathų was almost amused by the hypocrisy of that statement. “Didn’t you just say you have orchestrated this all--”

"We’ve all made our choices already …" Dawn interrupted her softly, flicking her chin around to their two companions: the Queen Prophet and the Angel Prophet.

"Yes." Sandalphon nodded. “And now it is your turn.”

"I will not play whatever game you are forc--"

The Angel Prophet interrupted the Princess Prophet’s defiance. "You have always been brave, Hathų, She Who Hears the Dead, last full-blooded daughter of the Deer Clan, descendant of the Great Peacemaker and Jigonhsasee."

"And now, for the first time in your life, you must choose whether you will pay the price for his love, which has been given freely … until now." Lilith poked at the fire.

"What are you talking about?" Hathų’s brow furrowed deeply. “Him? … Do you mean …“ She swallowed. “Michael?”

"What would you do?" Lilith asked. “To ensure his freedom?”

"You … “ Hathų’s mouth fell agape. “You are asking me to …" Her soft voice trailed off as deep thought took hold of her mind and Dawn could see the realization of something spread across her face. “I …”

Dawn was missing something and as she saw the understanding quickly spread across Hathų’s face, she knew she was missing something substantial to this conversation. Something that both Lilith and Sandalphon seemed privy to.

"Wait … what’re you asking her to do?" Dawn pushed, seeing the anguished expression on Hathų’s face and it broke a piece of her heart. She wished she understood what they were manipulating her into. “What are you--”

"He has always chosen you. He will always choose you, even to the detriment of himself and his own brothers and even to the detriment of your own children. He has proven this fact over and over again." Sandalphon added. “You … over everything that is dear to him and his life. You ... over his morals and rules and laws. You … over his own fate and freedom. It as always been you and you know it.”

"And now … “ The fire danced higher as Lilith spoke, the flames dancing in the reflection of her dark and menacing eyes. “It is your turn to prove the same to him."

"But what you are asking of me …" Hathų’s lower lip quivered slightly. “I …”

"If you do not do what you know you must …" Lilith shrugged innocently, but Dawn could see the manipulation in full swing. “You force him to pay the price for your hundreds of years of happiness, alone.”

"It doesn’t matter … They already know what you’ll choose to do. That’s the purpose of being here, right?" Dawn whispered and Hathų stared at her from across the fire. “They already know that what they are telling you will make you do what they want.”

"Do what they want?" Hathų’s calmness failed. “At the cost of having MY FAMILY? The cost of--”

"Selfish, selfish little princess …" Lilith cracked a devilish grin.

"Don’t call me that." Hathų sneered. “Only Quin--” She glanced at Dawn guiltily before changing her sentence. “Only the boy calls me that.”

"Oh yes. I know." Lilith chuckled with sinister glee. “Because he is not blind to your nature either. He sees you for exactly what you are. Spoiled.”

"And what is that exactly?" Hathų wasn’t amused in the slightest. “You know nothing about me if you think that my life has ever been easy--”

"And yet, you’ve had so much happiness, do you not see that? Hundreds of years of it. You’ve had your family and your husband and your child and his children. You’ve had everything your heart has ever desired. You were born beautiful and special and coveted, even to your own people. As descendant of the Great Peacemaker, you were given anything you wished. And then, you wanted a Hayyoth and so you took a Hayyoth. You wanted a son and so you took a son--"

"I took nothing--"

"You don’t understand the meaning of hard, Princess Prophet." Lilith scoffed with her usual condescending tone as she pointed her stick at the Iroquoian woman. “Your life has been a fairy tale compared to ours, ungrateful little thing. You tell yourself you have made all of these decisions for your children, but it has always been for your sake, for your happiness.”

"I made my decisions because I love them …" Hathų argued in desperation. “Everything I have ever done is because I love my family.”

"Really?" Lilith laughed loudly. “You seduced the only remaining Governor of Heaven because you thought that would be best for him or is it because you desired him? For him to commit the worst crime of his people? For him to fulfill the prophecy of the Desolation of Heaven … for his own good or for your own wanton needs?”

"I …" The words were cruel and Sandalphon closed her eyes tightly as she bit back the urge to come to Hathų’s defense. Dawn could see the vicious honesty that Lilith spoke was painful for everyone present. Were they not all guilty of something similar? And in some way, everything was the princess’ choice, but did they not also orchestrate it all? “No.” Hathų refused still. “I do not expect that you would or could understand love, Corruptor.”

"Oh, spoiled little girl." Lilith flashed her beautifully white and fanged teeth. “I have loved as deeply as any here. But I think it ironic that I am labelled corruptor … when that title clearly fits you so much better.”

"Enough." Sandalphon had had enough. “Do not mince words, Queen Prophet.” She couldn’t hold back the need to correct this statement. “Everyone here is a Corruptor in some way. We have all played a part in the corruption of those we love.”

Dawn, who had been incredibly silent this entire time, taking the time to appreciate that Lilith was lecturing someone other than herself, raised her hand timidly into the air. "Ummm … I haven’t corrupted anyone."

"Love corrupts all!" Lilith countered with a hearty laugh. “You most definitely corrupted your Snake Prince.”

Dawn furrowed her brows and turned to look at Sandalphon for help, but her friend was shrugging innocently, seemingly agreeing with Lilith’s statement. "Sorry … but that was the entire point. Love has always been the greatest corruptor of all. It knows no rules and it changes everything it touches."

"You know what? Screw you guys." Dawn pouted significantly. “Do I even need to be here for this? I have important stuff to do.”

As she stood to take her leave dramatically, Lilith sneered, pointing her stick at the Hayyoth Prophet. "Sit down."

"Oh yeah?" A wave of confidence rushed over Dawn’s body and she smiled. “Make me.”

Lilith stood in response to Dawn’s challenge but something was off about her usual confidence. As Dawn was gauging the situation, an uncharacteristic look spreading across Lilith’s face and it easy to read as she confirmed her assumption; Lilith was nervous.

"Children. Children." Sandalphon said calmly. “Everyone needs to just calm down. Please. Everyone has the same goal here. Everyone here is on the same team. Please. Sit.”

"I am not a child." Lilith spat at the Angel Prophet as she begrudgingly sat back down, glaring at Dawn with annoyance.

"Perhaps not physically, no." Sandalphon poked and it seemed as if the situation might escalate again as Lilith opened her mouth to speak again until Hathų spoke softly.

Cardinal - Mt. Joy

Yeah everything's exactly

Everything is exactly where it needs to be

I just wanted you to know

That you don't have to come clean to me

Yeah everything's exactly

Everything is exactly where it needs to be

"How have you all managed any of this? All you do is argue."

"My god, yes. We are so bloody dysfunctional …" The Angel Prophet chuckled.

Then there was a moment of silence and the only noise heard was the crackling of the fire as it burned the wood at its center as a small breeze passed over it.

"So now what?" Dawn finally asked.

"Now …" Her best friend sighed heavily and she could hear a combination of relief and sadness. “We part again and hope that we see each other in the undiscovered country that now lies before us.”

"Wait … The undiscovered country?" Dawn’s eyes grew wide with concern, knowing that Shakespearian quote quite well. “Isn’t that a metaphor for DEATH?”

She didn’t like to look that Sandalphon gave her. She could read her friend very well and she could tell that Sandalphon wanted to tell her something in response to that, but instead, she bit her lower lip. "To man, death is unknown, but to us, I speak of the unknown future."

Dawn couldn’t help but giggle at her friends statement. It was clear that only the two of them understood the joke and Sandalphon smiled widely, trying to mask the sadness in her eyes each time she glanced at her. The angel took a deep breath and began to do something Dawn had never seen her do. She began to recite.

"Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul."

As the last words escaped her mouth, she looked to her right, nodding at Hathų to continue. Surely Hathų didn’t know the next verse, but an anguished smile crept upon her face as she actually continued the poem, touching her head again as she did so.

"In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed."

Lilith chucked her stick into the fire and closed her eyes, searching her mind as she continued the poem next.

"Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds and shall find me unafraid."

Dawn took a deep breath, as the words reminded her of her prince and she recited the last verse, understanding the power of the words and their importance.

"It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate,

I am the captain of my soul."

The fire flared so high and the light was blinding before everything faded into blackness and all she could feel was the heat before her. In this precious instant before she would wake up, she heard Sandalphon’s voice, just as she had that terrible point in time when she felt Quintus snap away from her and chills ran down her spine.

In the blackness was her old friend’s voice.

"It will get better. I promise you, child … it will get better. But first … it must get so much worse."

In this absolute darkness, it was always Sandalphon’s voice.

"But before you can be fully fixed … before you can understand how to heal … you must first finish breaking …"

What was she trying to say? What had she wanted to tell her?

"I’m so very sorry …"

#the strain fanfic #quinlan fanfic #mr. quinlan fanfic #quintus sertorius fanfic #quintus densus #an insatiable ache #chapter 9 #Part 1

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moviessilently · 8 years ago

Text

When a railroad paymaster and the $25,000 in cash he was carrying disappear, returning WWI ace Billy Stokes is put on the case. This independent feature has an all African-American cast and is the only complete surviving feature of the Norman Film Manufacturing Company, a Florida-based studio that specialized in so-called race films.

Home Media Availability: Released on DVD and Bluray.

Up, up and away. Ish.

Richard E. Norman is not a household name these days but he left his mark on motion picture history. Like so many filmmakers operating outside the studio system, Norman tried various approaches until he found one that worked. He started with “home talent” pictures—that is, films shot by itinerant filmmakers in smaller cities and towns that made use of non-professional local talent (you can read my review of one such picture, The Lumberjack, here) but then discovered his niche in making films aimed at African-American audiences.

Poster for the film touting its cast.

Norman was a white Southerner but he did not seek to include the sort of insulting, dangerous, condescending stereotypes that D.W. Griffith was spreading in his films. Black audiences of the day were sick and tired of seeing white performers in blackface acting like monsters, fools or infants; they wanted to see themselves as they really were. There was a strong demand for positive African-American pictures and Norman sought to fill that demand. The Flying Ace is the only extant Norman film and it was the second-to-last feature he made. Like so many independent concerns, the cost of converting to sound proved to be a fatal blow.

Movies were mad for airplanes and Norman aimed to join the fad.

(If you would like more detail on Norman’s life, career and place in African-American film history, I recommend Richard E. Norman and Race Filmmaking by Barbara Tepa Lupack, which traces Norman’s career through personal correspondence and shooting scripts.)

The story opens with three disparate men standing outside a railroad station. Finley Tucker (Harold Platts) is a local sheik with a mysterious source of income, Dr. Maynard (Sam Jordan) is a respectable dentist and Jed Splivins (Lyons Daniels) is the buffoonish local constable. The trio observes the arrival of Blair Kimball (Boise De Legge), the railroad paymaster.

A dentist, a cop and a sheik walk into a speakeasy…

It seems that Kimball has decided to deliver the payroll early. Because no one will be expecting him, he has left his guards behind and is carrying $25,000 in cash all alone. Kimball waits for the next train with stationmaster Thomas Sawtelle (George Colvin).

The stationmaster has a charming daughter, Ruth (Kathryn Boyd), and she is just crazy about airplanes and flying. Tucker has been courting her and he offers to take her up in his plane but nefarious deeds go down while she is home changing into her flight suit.

He wants to get serious but she’s having none of it.

Sawtelle is knocked out by some mysterious substance and both Kimball and the cash disappear. This looks like a job for… Captain Billy Stokes (Laurence Criner)!

Stokes is an ace pilot who has just arrived back home from service in the First World War. Before the war, he was a railway detective and his old job is open to him; he heads over to Sawtelle’s station with orders to solve the mystery. He is assisted by engineer Peg (Steve Reynolds), a fellow veteran who lost a leg in the war. (Reynolds really was an amputee and his ability to still move with balletic grace was a popular feature of his stage show. It’s refreshing to see a disabled part played by a disabled performer, something that modern Hollywood would do well to learn.)

A decidedly unimpressed Stokes.

Stokes asks Peg to disguise himself as a hobo and reconnoiter the situation. Meanwhile, Stokes takes the more direct approach and introduces himself to Sawtelle as the railway detective on the case. Ruth is interested in the dashing pilot while Tucker tries his best to use reverse psychology to throw the blame on Sawtelle. You see, this is not really a whodunit as the film makes it very clear that the money was stolen by Tucker, Dr. Maynard and Jed. The fun is watching Stokes and Peg unravel the clues with tidy efficiency. These fellows are great at what they do!

Impossible in the real world but this is the movies!

The story of The Flying Ace can be viewed as existing in an alternate 1920s, one that contains no white characters, no racism and absolutely no content that would have been considered political (interracial romance, passing, Jim Crow, and so forth). Norman chose to avoid overt political statements in his films (and complained when other filmmakers, such as Oscar Micheaux, did) and instead sidestepped the topic entirely by attempting to portray aspirational African-American characters, heroes and heroines who would never have been allowed within a hundred yards of a mainstream Hollywood production. Captain Stokes certainly would not have been able to earn the title of ace in the heavily segregated U.S. military of WWI. Norman’s approach has been variously described as utopian, savvy and cowardly. Perhaps it was touches of all three.

Stokes knows his stuff.

Now we will compare The Flying Ace to other mystery/adventure productions of the time and see how it holds up in direct competition. First, the bad news.

When viewing any independent silent production, there are usually a few pitfalls to watch out for. In order to save money, low-budget films would often use an enormous number of title cards—it was cheaper to write more cards than to shoot more movie. The Flying Ace uses this trick with cards here, cards there, enough cards to open a casino. They also lack the professional snap of Hollywood intertitles and instead have stiff, formal sentences with plenty of semicolons and an honest to goodness, unironic use of the “I have you now, my beauty!” chestnut. Oh my. Further, there are clunky moments of exposition, like when the film screeches to a halt so that Tucker can show Ruth the mechanical workings of an airplane.

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While the title cards are about as poor a lot as I have ever seen, I am delighted to report that the actual plotting of the film is excellent, if hardly original. Far too many movie mysteries of the period would force their investigators to be stumped by a puzzle that the audience solved an hour before. For example, many mystery films would have had Stokes fret about just how Sawtelle was knocked out, stretching it out for a big reveal. Meanwhile, the audience is shouting, “The dentist! He has all kinds of drugs! The dentist!” Well, Stokes walks in, figures out that drugs were used on Sawtelle, finds a small vial on the floor, meets Dr. Maynard and puts it all together. It’s highly satisfying to watch a detective keep pace with the audience and even get ahead of us.

Don��t take your eyes off Jed!

I was also a bit worried about the characters of Peg and Jed as they are both introduced as broad comedy stereotypes. While this is not entirely done away with, both prove to have more depth than I expected. Peg is shown to be a clever gadgeteer who can innovate new uses for his crutch on the fly and ends up capturing two villains single-handed. Jed soon shows that his Keystone Cop routine is all an act and he proves to be the wiliest of the conspirators with his concealed handcuff key and trusty pistol. I would have preferred the dialect title cards to have been eliminated but at least the characters have some dimension to them.

Peg and his versatile crutch.

Norman had been in talks with Captain Edison McVey, a pilot who billed himself as the King of Stunts, and with famed aviatrix Bessie Coleman. However, McVey pulled out of negotiations and Coleman was killed in an accident before a deal could be closed. Norman finally cast a group of experienced stage actors to serve as the lead performers in the film.

A real charmer!

Without a doubt, the standout of the cast is Kathryn Boyd, who is a perfect charmer as Ruth. With her cute body language and infectious smile, she is exactly what the doctor ordered for a 1920s heroine: sporty, sweet, flirty and loyal. Laurence Criner (Boyd’s real-life husband according to Lupack) is fine if a bit stiff as Stokes, the two-fisted railway detective. He certainly throws himself into the fight scene with Harold Platts, which is always appreciated.

That’s gotta hurt!

Good though the cast turned out to be, the loss of experienced pilots meant that Norman’s options were limited. (Assuming he ever had the budget to include much airplane stuff, which is doubtful.) The Flying Ace rather famously shows no flying. Tucker and Stokes both taxi their planes around the airfield and then we are shown closeups of the cockpits against a sky backdrop but very few shots of planes in the air. It’s not really a dealbreaker but it’s another element that exposes the picture’s micro budget.

Totally up in the air.

In fact, Peg’s pursuit the villains on bicycle is far more dynamic than any of the airplane stuff. He peddles with his crutch and once he gets a good speed built up, he fires at the fleeing car with the gun he has concealed inside that same crutch. It’s exciting and the scene is unusually well-shot and edited for a budget picture. Great work there!

All in all, The Flying Ace is a fine bit of unpretentious silent entertainment and even without its historical importance, it works as a diverting detective yarn. This is a must-see for nerds and casual fans alike.

Where can I see it?

The Flying Ace was released on DVD and Bluray as part of the Pioneers of African-American Cinema box set. It’s accompanied by a fine score performed by the Mont Alto Motion Picture Orchestra.

The Flying Ace (1926) A Silent Film Review When a railroad paymaster and the $25,000 in cash he was carrying disappear, returning WWI ace Billy Stokes is put on the case.

#1926 #African American Cinema #Crime #George Colvin #Kathryn Boyd #Laurence Criner #Richard E Norman #Steve Reynolds

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zombierunfiction · 6 years ago

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Season 2 Mission 26: S-Express

After the train ride, Charlotte helped the runners load up the train with the barrels of fuel. It didn’t take as long as she thought to load everything on and they were on their way. Unfortunately there was a lot of debris on the tracks that the runners had to get off before the train got there.

Jody ran over and with Charlotte’s help they pulled a fallen tree off the tracks. “Okay, that fallen tree’s off the track now.” Jody said to Sam. “Looks like the train’s got a straight run from here down to-”

“Yeah, cameras show you’ll be okay for the next at least few hundred yards.” Sam said.

“I mean, not that I’m not glad we’ve managed to get all those fuel drums loaded onto this may I say magnificent steam engine-” Simon said as he ran along side them.

“Locomotive! She’s a locomotive, thank you!” Harry said quickly.

“-but I did think that traveling by train might involve more traveling on the train, not running alongside the train.” Simon continued on.

“Yeah, sorry about that. It turns out that Network Rail actually was useful for something after all. No one’s done any maintenance on these lines for months! Lots of debris, fallen tree branches, shopping trolleys-” Sam listed off before Charlotte spoke up with a smirk.

“Wrong kind of zombies on the line?” She questioned.

“Uh, any chance we could just hitch a ride for the next mile or two?” Simon asked as Sam went quiet for a moment.

“Ooh, sorry, guys. Looks like the points up ahead aren’t right. They’ll take the train over a broken bridge unless you get there first. And, uh, yeah, we can’t really stop, because-” Sam started before Harry jumpped in.

“She’s got up a nice head of steam, she really has. I can’t believe I was scared to use her until now! Look at her go, ooh!” He said in delight.

“Yeah, so, there’s that nice head of steam and that crowd of zombies that were chasing the ship? Yeah, now they’re chasing you.” Sam concluded.

“There’s a reason they call us runners. Come on, guys!” Jody said as they split off from the train. Simon, Jody and few other runners headed towards the zombies to lead them away as Charlotte, Sara and the rest of the runners kept near the track heading for the points.

The train started to gain on the runners heading for the points making Sara look back at it. “Can’t you slow that thing down at all? We want to change the points so you don’t plummet to your death on that broken bridge, but it’s hard to stay ahead of you when you’re going so fast!”

Harry seemed to be fretting inside the train. “Sorry! I think the brake’s not quite-”

“The brake’s not working?” Charlotte asked quickly looking back at him. “You’re on a runaway train?”

“Not runaway, just not as easy to control as I’d hoped.” Harry said .

“Okay...” Sam started. “Runner Five, you’re closeest. Just put on a burst of speed now and-” Charlotte ran quicker and grabbed the point turning it just in time to divert the train. “great! Points changed, train diverted from the broken bridge. That’s uh, ‘brownie points’ for you, Five. Did you… did you see what I did, there?”

Charlotte chuckles running to catch up with the others. “Yes I did Sam.”

“So we’re okay now, smooth tracks from here?” Jody asked as they joined back up with the others after leading the some of the zombies away.

“Just checking the cameras. Oh, ooh, yeah, so there’s a massive horde of zombies on the track ahead.” Sam said making Simon sigh.

“Oh, well, great! They can be friends with the zombies already chasing us.” He said.

“Train’ll just mow them down, squish! Zombie jam!” Sara said not too concerned about it.

“I don’t know, this many might end up derailing the train. I think you’ll have to-” Sam said when Simon started shouting.

“Here, zombie-wombies! Tasty human flesh for you! Extremely attractive, tanned, fit flesh in my case, not to boast. Come and get it! As I run away from the train tracks.” He turned and took a group of zombies with him.

“Yep! That’s the general idea.” Sam said as Jody branched off right behind Simon taking several zombies with her.

“Okay, so we’re splitting off now.” Sara said.

“Yep, got eyes on you from three separate security cameras, now. Should be able to keep you safe. Runners Three and Four, head towards the abandoned warehouse. You should be able to funnel them into the warehouse and bolt the door. We’ve got four runners leading some towards the staircases in the park.” Sam listed off.

“That’ll keep them busy.” Charlotte said with a grin as she met up with Sara.

“Yeah, so, you and Runner Five-” Sam started.

“I think you’re thinking what we’re thinking.” Sara said with a grin.

“Head towards the broken bridge?” Sam suggested.

“Read my mind!” Sara said with a laugh. “Come on, Char. I always like doing my own stunts!”

“You would!” Charlotte shouted as they branched off taking the remaining zombies away from the track. Once they could see the bridge Charlotte looked at Sara. “You sure we can make that? We’ve made gaps like that before but-”

“No, it’s going to be fine!” Sara said with a grin.

“Are you really sure? Because, I don’t know.” Sam mirrored Charlotte’s concern. “From this angle, the gap in the bridge looks bigger than I-”

“We’ve dealt with worse than this.” Sara replied.

“Oh, I mean, maybe you could… you could climb down? I mean, the structure looks pretty sturdy, with all those cross beams.” Sam suggested.

“We like to live dangerously. Come on, Five. We’re going to get a good run-up.” Sara sprinted past Charlotte and headed down the bridge before jumping over the gap able to just make it to the other side steadying herself. “See just fine!”

Charlotte took a deep breath looking back seeing the zombies stumbling after her. She raced down the bridge before jumping off the bridge feeling the wind whiping past her. Her foot hit the ground only to feet the rock give way under her weight and she began to fall. She let out a scream only to have Sara grab her hand stopping her short. Charlotte panted heavily looking up at her.

“Runner Five! Are you ok?” Sam asked quickly.

“Yea… just fine.” Charlotte said as Sara grabbed her other hand and pulled her up enough that Charlotte could crawl onto the dirt. “Sara you are fuckin insane...”

Sara let out a laugh as she sat back on the dirt. “Hey we did it didn’t we?”

“And the zoms are falling into the valley like-” Sam started before Sara jumpped in.

“Like lemmings?”

“From the seminal 1991 Amiga game, Lemmings? Yes. Like that broken bridge was put there on purpose for them to fall off.” Sam said with a grin.

“Yeah… yeah.” Sara said slowly not looking as thrilled as Sam was.

“Okay, guys, the next few miles of track look really good. You should be able to meet the train just before the next valley. And you might even get a ride to Bert Airfield.” Sam said with a smile as Charlotte and Sara stood up and started to run to catch up with the train.

“We’re on our way.” Charlotte said breathing deeply.

“You know, it’s funny. Harry’s had this train before the apocalypse, but he reckons he was afraid to use it.” Sam said with a small laugh.

“Because he doesn’t really know how to drive it?” Sara suggested.

“Aw, no, no. He was saying he’s had interests on Rofflenet from people who didn’t seem too keen on him having a working train if he wasn’t going to share it with them.” Sam continued.

Sara looked over at Charlotte for a moment. “You know, now that you mention it-”

“What?” Charlotte asked.

“Oh, it’s probably nothing.”

“No, what?” Charlotte asked again.

“Well, it didn’t look to me like that bridge had just half collapsed by itself. It’s sturdy, like you say. Looked to me like sabotage.” Sara said as Charlotte looked around oddly.

“Do you hear something?” She said as Sara blinked looking around.

“No but then again you have dog hearing.” Sara said making Charlotte give her a flat look.

“Ha ha. It sounds like horses.”

“Um, hmm. Can’t see anything on the scanners. I think there are some wild horses around here somewhere. Well, you know, gone wild since the uh, you know.” Sam said as they could see the train in the distance.

“Yeah. So, if it was sabotage along the bridge forcing the train along the other track, where’s that track leading?” Sara asked.

“I uh...” Sam started before humming. “Let me check the maps. It’s out of range for most of our runs.”

“Char, I hate to say it, but I’ve…” Sara started looking at Charlotte. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Yep, got it on the map. It’s, uh… hmm.” Sam stops.

“What?” Charlotte asked.

“It’s just, well, we’ve never found out what’s been going on there since the apocalypse. Sam said making Sara blink.

“Going on?”

Sam sighs heavily before answering. “We’ve never had a reason to go there, but New Canton gave us their notes. Maps show there’s another bridge over there, but it’s mostly a blank zone. Everyone they’ve ever sent into it hasn’t returned.”

Charlotte groans deeply. “Great...”

“On the positive side, uh, sun’s come out.” Sam said trying to lighten the mood.

Sara took a deep breath. “Just in time for high noon.”

By the time they got to the train the other runners had joined them. Harry looked out at them through the window with a big smile. “There you are! Sight for sore eyes and no mistake! I’ll try to slow her down a little, and you can-”

“Wait!” Sara said pointing ahead of them. “See that, Char? Along the ridge above the valley?”

Charlotte looked over and saw a line of people on horse back heading right for them. “Shit! We need to get on this train, and we need to get it to cover!” She said fast.

“I don’t see any cover, and I have to man the engine!” Harry said fast.

“You need to-” Sara started before gun shots ring out making Harry cry out and duck down. He stood up looking at his hat which had a hole in it.

“They got my blood hat! Shot right through my train driver’s hat!” He shouted.

“Runner Five, Runner Eight, stay low, behind the train. You’ll need to follow behind and jump on at the back to stay out of their sight line.” Sam said quickly.

“But what about me?” Harry whined.

“Stay cool, Harry! We’ll come up with a plan.” Sara said.

“Just stay down as much as you can.” Charlotte said as they slowed down to wait for the end of the train to come. Once the end of the train came Sara and Charlotte climbed on as they took a moment to catch their breath. “Sam do we have a plan?”

“We’re going to need to think of one fast. We’re in Bandit country.” Sam said making Charlotte’s blood run cold at the idea of Bandits coming after them.

< 73 >

Season 1 Beginning

Season 2 Beginning

#zombie #zombies run #zombie run #ZombieRun #zombiesrun #run #runner 5 #runner five #runner5 #runnerfive #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic

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