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dominimoonbeam · 11 months

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Shift

A snowstorm, one bed, Dash fic for @ejunkiet! Happy Birthday you wonderful, starshine, ball of joy!

David/Asher

tags: snowstorm, I put Asher in a frozen river again, idiots in love, near death, love confession, dubcon bridging, it was an accident!, only one bed,

Shift

“You have to shift…”

“What?” Asher yelled, shivering but still smiling. “Are you fucking insane? If I shift, I’m definitely going to break the ice and go in.”

The ice cracked more, the sound shaking his core. “It’s going to break anyway, Ash! You’ll freeze if you don’t shift first.”

“F-Fuck you, man! I’m not going in!” He inched along, closer to David, the ice underfoot making a web of sounds.

“Stop!” David snapped, arms out but unable to do anything. He was helpless and terrified. If he could change their places he would in an instant. If he moved, he might make it crack more. Asher had literally shoved him out of the way before the thin patch of ice gave way and stranded himself on it, shuffling toward safety. “Ash, listen to me!”

Asher stopped, frowning hard but looking up to stare back at David. The wind was cold and they were in the middle of nowhere making their way toward a ranger station that was supposed to be up here. They’d been out with the rest of the pack searching for a missing hiker when a storm set in. The hiker had been found, thank god, but they were too far out to get back safely and the wind was rolling in fast.

“The current will bring you toward me and I will get you out. I won’t lose you.”

Asher’s frown vanished, replaced by something else. The wind lashed past them and the ice groaned.

“Shift!” David yelled

Asher did, taking a big leap that would never be enough toward the edge. The ice broke and he went under.

David shifted too, heavy paws sinking into the slushy snow and ice at the bank. He was in the river, the water so cold it bit at his skin through his fur and made his muscles tense and his chest tight. It took a matter of seconds. He shoved his head into the water and snatched at Asher with his teeth, biting into his shoulder and not letting go, not even when the current pulled and Ash seemed to do nothing to help. He wasn’t even kicking.

David hauled him out, dragging both of them up the bank and onto the snow. Ice formed immediately on their fur. He tasted blood. He’d bit all the way through Asher’s coat and into his shoulder.

Asher, he tried across that link that connected them, panting against the cold and nosing his best friend.

Asher!

The other wolf spasmed, spitting up water and twisting to get his feet under him even before he could think straight, already trying to stand and walk, stumbling.

David growled and pressed up alongside him, steadying him. Don’t shift back. We need to keep moving. We’re not far from that station…

Asher didn’t say anything but he plodded forward, letting David guide him. Across their connection he could feel the hum of cold and pain, like Asher’s head was in a vice and that awful cold so deep in his bones that they felt like ice on the inside. The wind howled, whipping around them and pushing snow into the air. It was blinding and that would matter if David was navigating by sight. He knew which way he was going and the only thing to do was to keep trudging on.

The station was a little cabin with a view on the backside of the deck and boarded up windows. David finally shifted human again at the door, flexing hands that were burning with cold before trying the handle. It wasn’t locked, not that any lock would have stopped him. Asher swayed on his feet, a large wolf, white because of the coating of snow and ice. His breath wasn’t even forming in the air. Shift back, David told him across their link.

Asher swayed but didn’t change. Still a wolf. Still too big for that doorway.

David came back to him and grabbed fistfuls of scruff on his neck. “Shift back,” he yelled over the storm, realizing that Asher was waiting. He couldn’t be sure how aware he was of anything anymore, but he had held that form because David had told him to.

Nothing.

David pulled at him, dragging the big wolf a step up the porch, toward the doorway he couldn’t fit through, toward the finish line. “Asher! Shift back!”

Nothing. His hands burned with cold, feeling no warmth from Asher even with his fingers deep in that frozen fur. He leaned in, pushing his head against the side of the big wolf’s. He closed his eyes, the frigid wind battering them from the side, snow already piling up his shins and his sweat-soaked shirt freezing to his back under his jacket. He pressed with his core, trying to reach Asher, trying to find him.

When he felt nothing, the panicked thought that Ash had died on his feet hit him, vibrating pain and fear so deep that he almost couldn’t breathe.

David. Asher’s voice, small and clear in his head…no, in his core.

He felt him. It was different than when they talked over the connecting thread of pack. It was… Oh shit, they were bridging. David had reached so far in that search for his friend that he’d initiated a bridge between their cores.

He wasn’t even cold anymore. He was burning up but shaking. He didn’t hurt. He was tired and worried… about David. Asher was still just worried about David. And David felt it all like it was his own. He felt more than that. He felt everything Asher felt, the whole web of his life spreading out beneath him. Their memories. Their moments. The moment Asher had pushed him out of the way on the ice and the complete lack of regret. He would have done it for anyone. But when he did it for David, it wasn’t just a need to help, it was a need to protect and take care of his… His…

Shift back! David urged, not like he was telling Asher to do it, but like he was the one shifting. Like Asher’s body was his.

The bridge snapped and David reeled, almost falling over. Asher’s knees hitting the snow and his breath hitching tight in his chest.

David grabbed him before he could keel over, pulling him up and dragging him inside.

The cabin was small, one room with a woodstove, a couple chairs, a table, a corner kitchenette, and one narrow bed.

David shut the door, throwing the lock. “We made it. You’re okay. We’re going to be okay,” he said.

Asher didn’t say anything.

That quiet drove a nail through David’s heart. Asher was always talking. Always. Even when he was hurt. “Ash…”

Doubt wheedled into his chest. He had told Asher to shift and take the fall into the river. What if he’d been wrong? What if Asher could have inched his way to the edge and made it out without going in?

His mind raced, pushing those thoughts away. Later. He could doubt himself and berate himself later. First, he had to get them warm. Their clothes were icy. They hadn’t exactly dressed for a storm, not expecting it and not planning to take human form out there anyway. He took Asher to the bed. “Can you hear me?” David asked, pulling his shirt up and off. The shoulder was torn and bloody. He didn’t look directly at the injury. He couldn’t. Not yet.

Asher made a low groaning sound that somehow sent a wave of relief through David.

“Thank god… Hang on.” He laid him back, unlacing and pulling off his boots, then his socks and his jeans. Asher didn’t even make any lewd comments when David pulled his underwear off of him and settled him completely naked on the bed. He just shook, hard and endless, eyes barely open and unfocused. “I know. I know,” David ground out, pulling the covers over him. They weren’t exactly warm either. He found a stack of quilts and tossed those over him. “Hang on,” he kept saying.

He was shaking too, the cold setting in and reaching deep into his muscles, but he couldn’t deal with that yet.

He got the fire in the wood stove going and it felt like a huge accomplishment. He pushed the table and chairs to the side and then pulled the bed closer to the heat source. “Ash, can you hear me?” he called, shedding his jacket and then pulling off his own shirt. He hurt all over from the cold, like a bruise. He was shaking but he had the sense to fill the kettle and put it on the stove.

Asher groaned, still shivering under all those covers. “Y-Yeah…”

David spun toward him, falling to his knees in a scramble to get to the side of his bed again. He touched his head, turning his face to get that gaze on him. His relief was enough to almost make him cry.

“Are we dead?” Asher whined. “I’m so fucking cold, man…”

David ruffled his hair, prolonging the contact. “I know. I’m working on it.”

“Where are we?”

“Ranger’s cabin.”

Asher’s eyes closed. “We made it?” he slurred, teeth chattering.

David wondered how much he even remembered after going under. He’d ask later.

He finished stripping down and then made a quick rummage through the supplies, pulling out anything that could be a blanket to add to the pile on the bed. He found a hot water bottle in one of the drawers and filled it, putting it in under the covers. Asher was still shaking and so was he.

Fuck.

He lifted the blankets and wedged himself in. It was barely big enough for one shifter, let alone two. He had to roll Ash onto his side, away from him and facing the fire in the open stove. He pressed his chest up against the other man’s back and curled an arm around his waist to keep both of them from falling out of the bed. Asher was almost as tall as he was, but lean. He shook, his skin cold to the touch. David held him tighter, tangling their legs and pressing firmly against him, trying to will whatever body heat he had into his best friend.

The storm whistled against the windows, rattling the walls, but as long as the fire crackled, they should be okay.

As long as Asher was okay, David would be okay.

He tried not to think about everything he’d gleaned from that brief connection. It wasn’t right. He shouldn’t know. But why hadn’t Ash told him? He should have told him. But would David have believed him? How many times had he brushed off Asher’s flirting as just that—Asher flirting. Like he did it with everyone. He did, didn’t he?

David wracked his mind, but knew it wasn’t true. It wasn’t the same. He was charming with everyone he liked but he flirted with David. He had been flirting with him since they were teens. …And David had been rolling his eyes.

And now he knew, knew, that Asher had thought David wasn’t interested. And then his dad had passed and he’d become alpha, and Asher had just… given up. He had buried it, accepting that his flirting would only ever be a joke, because he would absolutely never risk their friendship. He cared too much about David to do that.

He winced again. He had no right to know these things. He’d had no right to bridge with Asher at all.

He tried to clear his thoughts, focusing instead on the steady beat of Asher’s heart.

Asher woke up slowly, aware that he wasn’t alone—that he was safe.

Everything was okay.

His shoulder hurt but everything was okay.

He squeezed the arm curled around his chest, registering the naked body pressed against his back. The large, male, naked body pressed against his back.

He opened his eyes, his head aching for a few long seconds before his vision finally focused. He was on his side, near a wood stove that glowed with a fire inside. He was in a cabin.

All at once he remembered being in the snow with David, out looking for someone. “Davey?” he croaked, coughing.

The arm around him spasmed, holding him tighter. “Ash?” he asked, voice gravelly. “Are you okay?”

Asher sighed, nodding. They were under a pile of covers, but David’s naked leg was pressed between his. “Yeah. What happened? Is that human still out there?” The storm was battering the walls.

David shook his head on the same pillow, behind Asher’s head. “Milo got him out just before the storm.”

“But we got stuck?”

David tensed. Asher felt it because they were pressed against each other. It was so warm and nice. “You don’t remember? We were on the river… You went in.”

“I went in the river?” Asher frowned. “Well, that was stupid.”

David huffed against the back of his head. “You didn’t do it on purpose, asshole. You…” He seemed to wake up more. His body tensed, realizing his arm was around Asher maybe? Asher let go in case he wanted to disentangle. They’d always been close, but this was a lot even for them. Not that Asher minded… though his feelings had always run a little less than platonic for David. Okay, a lot less. “You saved me,” David said. “You pushed me out of the way when the ice was breaking and got stuck on this thin patch…”

Asher shifted, trying to look back at him. The movement sent a jolt of pain through his shoulder. “Ow! Fuck, what did I do…” he curled one arm across his chest to grope at his shoulder, fingering a curve of barely scabbed cuts.

David pulled the blankets down enough to get a look at his shoulder and whatever he saw made him suck back a breath. “Shit. I should have cleaned and bandaged that… I’m sorry. You went in the river, and I had to get you out. I shouldn’t have bit down so hard. It’s really bruised.” He touched Asher’s shoulder, seeming to examine the bruising, all Asher could do was bite back a moan at the idea of David’s teeth on him. “How bad does it hurt?”

“Hurt?” Asher croaked and then laughed, heavy lids sinking. “It’s not bad. It’s fine. You know… I always wanted you to bite me, but I didn’t expect it to be like that.”

The fire in the stove crackled. Neither of them moved, David’s fingertips still touching his shoulder but no longer exploring.

Asher’s words caught up to him and he cracked his lids, staring up at the man staring right back at him. David's expression was unreadable, which was saying something since Asher could usually read every frown, grunt, and eyebrow twitch. They were naked and wedged together into a tiny bed under a mountain of blankets. There was no laughing and walking away. “Sorry,” Asher said instead. “Not a good time for jokes. Thanks for saving me.”

David frowned and now Asher could read it. That was the doesn’t think he’s owed gratitude frown. “You only went in because you saved me first…”

“Cool. Then we’re even.”

The wind howled outside.

“Ash…” David started and then stopped.

Asher felt suddenly more awake than he had before. There was something close to grief in David’s voice that sent a jolt of fear through him. “What? Is…Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah. They’re fine,” he assured and then sighed. He moved a little, like he was trying to put space between them on that sliver of a bed when there really was no space to make. He took his arm away from Asher’s chest and he instantly felt colder and unbound, like he might fall out of the bed and right into a pile of snow.

“What? Did I do something? Did I say something?” He heaved a nervous laugh. “Fuck, just tell me. You know, if it was near death, whatever I said doesn’t count.”

David winced. “You didn’t. I… I needed you to shift to get you through the door, but you didn’t. You were on your feet, but it was like you couldn’t hear me or you couldn’t shift anymore. I was just trying to reach you, to make you hear me…”

Asher twisted until he was on his back, half off the bed but able to really watch David. He was upset. He was so upset. He had to curl his hands into fists to keep from trying to soothe him. He’d clearly done something to upset David if he was trying to get space even when they were wedged together so close. The least he could do was not touch him more than absolutely necessary. “What happened?”

“We bridged,” he said and then winced. “I bridged with you,” he reiterated, as if the blame needed to be clearly defined. Of course, David would think it did.

Asher blinked at his best-friend. If he wasn’t close to being a popsicle, he’d probably blush at the idea of that intimacy.

“It was less than a minute. I didn’t mean to bridge, Ash. I was just trying to get you to shift.”

Asher huffed a laugh. “Did it work?”

David nodded.

Asher closed his eyes. “Good. Don’t worry about it.” Bridging was intimate. He supposed it was like David telling him he accidentally brain fucked him for survival. They were so close already, it was hardly an invasion of any kind. It wasn’t like…there was…anything… Oh fuck!

Asher’s eyes flew open. David was waiting, grim.

He knew. He’d been in his core and he knew everything.

Asher was out of the bed before David could stop him, if he even would. He probably wouldn’t. No wonder he’d been trying to get space from him!

“Ash…”

Asher groaned, barely out of the bed and already falling. His legs shook and he couldn’t tell if it was from nearly freezing to death or from having his world crumble beneath him. Fuck. Fuck!

And could this be any worse timing? They were naked and half-frozen! He held up an arm, his vision swimming. “G-Give me a minute… Shit… Just…”

David had sat up, feet to the floor, the firelight making his bare skin glow. His jaw twitched like he was working to keep it shut—to give Ash his minute. Even now, he was being a good friend. And Asher had ruined it.

After the minute, which was probably closer to a handful of seconds, David grumbled, “Get back under the covers.”

Asher shook his head, scrubbing a hand over his face. He couldn’t even leave! “You take the bed.”

David growled. “You’re shaking. The fire is helping but the room is still cold. Get—”

“No!” Asher snapped. It was childish enough to shock them both. They blinked at each other. Asher had to look away first. David knew how he felt about him—how he had always felt. How much damage had he just done to their friendship? How could he fix it?

“Ash,” David spoke first, deep voice low and gentle. Somehow that hurt more than if he’d just yelled. “I’m sorry I bridged with you like that… I didn’t mean to—”

“Stop,” Asher begged, closing his eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m not upset about it. You know that. You know…” That he would let David do anything. That he would give him any part of himself. That he’d never be able to stay mad at him even if he had wronged him, and he definitely hadn’t.

David exhaled slowly. “I know,” he repeated Asher’s words, like a confession. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked just as quietly and then growled. “I know why,” he added, because of course he did. He’d seen his core, felt it and been in it. “I was never going to be mad at you, Ash. I…I might not have been ready for it before. You were right about that. But I wasn’t going to push you away or reject you or… I would never have done that. I would never have pushed you out of my life or been mad at you.”

Asher shivered, opening his eyes slowly to see David. He stared right back at him, the firelight in his eyes making them an even brighter yellow.

David held out his hand. “Come here.”

Asher looked at the offered palm, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from jumping at that offer of contact and forgiveness. “David if you want space, that’s—”

“I don’t want space. I want you to get your ass back into this bed before we both freeze.”

Asher whined but took his hand and let the big guy pull him up and back onto the small bed. They shifted around under the covers until they were settled like before, Asher’s back to David’s chest, the heat of the fire against his front and the weight of the covers on top of them. David curled an arm around his chest. “Okay?”

Asher nodded, mind still catching up. So, David wasn’t mad. He understood. He knew. And they could pretend it hadn’t happened? Like he didn’t know? Just like before? Asher’s heart ached but it was more than he’d dared to hope for a minute ago. It was fair. David didn’t feel the same. Being able to go back to the way they had always been was a miracle.

Asher relaxed, cheek to the pillow and David’s heartbeat against his back, the weight of his arm wrapped around him.

“Asher?”

His heart squeezed, afraid. “Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

Asher held his breath.

David sighed, pushing his forehead to the back of Asher’s hair. “The way you feel… I’m not sure I deserve that, but I want you the way you want me. I love you.”

Asher exhaled, eyes closed. “I love you too.”

#DASH #david/asher #redactedverse #fanfic #<3 #survival confession #bridging #happy birthday EJ!#posting this early so you have it whenever you want!

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acewithapen · 2 years

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to die from smoke and fire; a lovely curse

hiii yall. welcome to the prequel for 'How Does a Legend Die?'

warning for major character death. long story short, will dies. his death is also from his pov, so that might be worse. read it on ao3!

anyways, as always, the fic will be under the cut!

Will Treaty had almost died many a time. Hell, he was known for his death-defying stunts! So why did this one feel so final?

He inhaled carefully, watching the camp. They were setting up for something, and he had a feeling it would be big. The men were stacking wood, arranged in a tent-like structure. He tried again to wiggle his hands out of the rope. It was too tight. Where was Maddie? She had to arrive soon.

Ruhl watched the wood pile up, an odd fascination in his eyes. “Well, Mr. Treaty. It’s going to be a beautiful burn, won’t it? Not as pretty as your wife’s was, but oh…can’t you just imagine it?”

Will struggled harder.

The pyre, for that’s what it had to be, was done. Will fought hard to avoid being pulled up, but he was quickly overpowered. He pulled at the ropes binding his wrists together, watching Ruhl nervously. The man was speaking with some of his men, arms waving.

He tensed as they moved closer, but nothing happened.

“Well, I think we'll wait for midnight. This will be such a lovely spectacle, don't you agree?” A manic sort of glee lit up the man’s eyes and Will fought down a shiver.

It was so cold up here. His fiery anger had frozen into a solid block of fear. Will closed his eyes. “Sorry, Maddie,” he breathes. If it all goes wrong…hopefully she’ll be far enough away.

If he closes his eyes, he can see Alyss. Back in their little cabin in the trees, hair pulled back, frowning intently at her work. He’d come home and she’d look up and smile.

He missed her. It had never truly gone away—the sharp, knife's edge pain had just dulled into a tender ache. It spiked every now and then. Over and over, he had pleaded and cried and apologized, screaming at the sky. And here he was. To die in the same way—choking on acrid smoke. Maybe the smoke would kill him first, rather than the flames.

Will inhaled the smell of fresh cut wood, and let a tear slide down his cheek.

Jory smiled. The pyre was beautiful, ethereal. He wished he’d been able to build something like this for the Ranger’s wife—she would have been lovely going up in flames. At least, her husband could die like that. Reunited, cleansed in the wrath of scorching fire. He breathed in the smell. Pine, perfect for a good one. The scent of the sap hung heavy in the air, mixing with the sea breeze.

He lifted his face up, letting the moonlight touch his face. Jory Ruhl would not be afraid. After all, everyone was born for a reason. Why couldn’t this one be his?

Jory struck a match to light a torch. Only an hour left to go until the moon was at its peak. This was going to be excellent.

“Jory!” Cyrus, one of his closest friends and his right-hand man, jogged up. Windswept dark hair curled under his ears, and he looked worried. “We think the girl may come back soon. She got the children, and it looked like she was going to come back.”

He cursed under his breath. Why couldn’t she see his vision? “Wasn’t she injured?”

Cyrus made a face. “You know how Ranger’s are. Too stubborn for their own good.”

Rage simmered under his skin. “Well, maybe she’ll burn with him! Capture her if she comes back, and put her up on the pyre.” Cyrus nods once. It’s nice to have people you can trust, isn’t it?

He turns to look back at the pyre. Magnificent. It’s tall, built in a pyramid-style shape, with a flat top. The Ranger is bound up there, bathed in the silvery light.

“We’ll wait for midnight. If it’s already started when she arrives, just throw her in.”

“Okay. I’ll let the men know.” He slinks off, dark clothes soon blending in with the cliffs. He pushes his hair back from his face, glancing around. Nothing. It’s quiet except for the waves gently lapping against the shore. The moon smiles down at him. He hopes it will appreciate his efforts to make something beautiful.

The Diplomat’s death was for the sun—she burned bright and quick and lovely for the dawn. The Ranger will die underneath the moon—bathed in silver and fire, a fallen star.

Maybe the girl will burn too—perhaps she can die when both are visible. A reunion at an eclipse. To finally bring all three together—holy fire, the sun, and the moon. He smiles. That one…that will be his legacy.

Will watches the group of men carefully. They’re relaxed, sure that he won’t be able to escape. Perhaps he won’t be able to. The thought isn’t comforting—Halt had drilled into him how a Ranger should always be able to escape.

His oakleaf will burn with him, won’t it? The Corps will have to make a new one.

(He tries to not think about the gold laurel pin on Alyss’ grave, and how he would get a gold one.)

As the minutes flow by, he thinks. His weapons are gone, except for the strikers. They’re concealed in his belt, but useless unless he can free his hands and then his ankles.

Maddie is gone. They broke his bow. Even Tug is too far to help.

And for the first time since he was 15, Will Treaty is truly on his own.

Cyrus goes to Jory when it’s almost midnight. “We’re going to need to light it soon.”

“I know, I know.” His friend won’t look him in the eyes. It’s what happened at the inn too—something about fire takes up his full concentration until he can barely think of anything else. It scares him sometimes, but knowing that they’re firmly on the same side is a comfort.

Jory is holding a box of matches. “Take one. Light a torch, and throw it in.”

“Okay. Have fun, Jory.”

His smile is radiant. “I will! You too, Cyrus.”

His smile is smaller, but no less. “I shall.”

Cyrus lights a match and touches it to the end of the pitch. The spark catches and alights, flaring up against the dark of the night. Jory is watching the flames hungrily and he nods to Cyrus. “Do it.”

Will watches, fear constricting his throat as the torches ignite and move closer. Maddie isn’t going to make it. He’s going to die here, scorched, just like Alyss.

“Ranger, I hope you can appreciate what your death will do! The moon will adore it.” Ruhl’s voice is heavy with passion, and he’s almost ecstatic. “I cannot wait to see how beautifully you’ll burn.”

“Now?”

“Yes! Burn the pyre! Let us see what awaits him after he is cleansed!” Ruhl is laughing, sick fascination in his demeanor.

Will doesn’t close his eyes as they throw the torches. He will not turn away from his death.

The fire catches quickly, racing up the sap soaked wood. Smoke stings his eyes, and fire catches at his feet. Halt had said once that fire doesn’t kill—it’s the smoke that does it.

He wonders if that’s true for him now, too. Will he die from smoke or fire? Will the gray choke him or will fire break him down to his bones? Will smoke wind around his lungs or will fire twist around his muscle?

He doesn’t know. He can’t breathe. Wind ruffles his hair and it’s cold and salty and he tries to lean into it.

The fire licks at him instead. His eyes flutter closed and he exhales in one long sigh. Smoke is choking him now, moving deeper on every hacking cough. Pain is almost background now—the burn of the fire, the acrid smoke.

The Will Treaty is going to die. The love of his life is already dead. He’s going to join her, finally, and their deaths are from the same man. Tears drip down his cheeks, cool against his cheeks. But his sun is gone, his Alyss is dead, and soon he will be too.

A sun and a moon, eclipsed by smoke and fire. He dies with closed eyes and a stuttering exhale. It makes sense, after all. Death was the only constant in his life—from Birth to his Final Minutes.

Jory watches with rapt attention. The smoke floats overhead, wood burning down and down and down, taking the spectacle in hungrily. The moon glows brighter, and he swears he can feel the satisfaction dripping down.

None of his men except for Cyrus will understand. That’s okay. They just need to tell their stories and take the children. He can carry out the celestial will—to burn and scorch and renew the earth. Is that not what Life means? From dust they came and to dust they will go. After all, life came from dust.

The world will come again—renewed by fire and cleansed by smoke, nourished by the ashes of what it once knew.

He beams as the fire burns down. He alone can achieve the goal of the heavens.

The world won’t forget Will Treaty—a Ranger, level with the mighty Halt O’Carrick. Of the highest caliber.

The world won’t forget Jory Ruhl—a man who believed he heard the heavens, and took down a star for them.

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thanks for reading!!! please let me know what you thought!

#ranger's apprentice #will treaty #jory ruhl #ranger's apprentice angst #will treaty dies

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cmishwrites · 9 months

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FO4 Fan Fic pt 3

Some things: ~ Again this went long. There will be a pt 4. SorryNOTsorry. Tumblr wouldn't let me post the whole final chunk. ~ You can find pt 1 here and pt 2 here if you want to catch up with what is going on. ~ I could do a full series just on this background stuff XD but I swear this is just setting things up. Anyways, hope y'all enjoy. Again there's eye and brain bleach if you need it.

Warnings: inferred sexual abuse, drug abuse and torture.

Mojave Wasteland, spring, 2277. The year the Lone Wanderer crept from vault 101 in the Capitol Wasteland.

Hazy, screams, heat, stench of death. Calisto ran, her feet hurting, probably bleeding. Her head was stuffy, things were jerking in and out of focus. What had Gremlin given her? Right before he wanted her to preform another one of those things on him. She stumbled, hitting her head on something. Red smeared the rocks in front of her, and she was running again. Gunfire behind her. Were they firing at her? She tripped and slid face first down a steep incline that opened up beneath her feet. How long she slid she wasn't sure, but she pushed to her feet and stumbled on. There were things in the desert. Things she was afraid of. But they wouldn't want her to do things to them, no, they'd just eat her. People on the other hand… She tripped again, hitting her knees hard enough to jolt her through the chem haze. She hurt. In places she didn't know she had. She shook, hearing the screams fading behind her, and tried to look around, get her bearings. Firelight in the distance. And beside it, standing tall and facing her, shiny metal. Power armor. She squinted, wiping at her face. Grandpa? No, Grandpa was dead, and he never wore his power armor. It was broken, a pile of scrap in a corner. But there, standing beside the fire, turned in her direction was a suit of armor. She pushed to her feet, the haze trying to descend again, her vision going blurry, dotted, as she stumbled towards the campfire. The world seemed to jerk sideways and she was falling, then nothing. ~*~

The old scribe tromped over to the unmoving figure at the edge of the firelight. He rolled it over staring down. A kid? He lifted her up carefully carrying her over to his sleeping bag. She was bruised and bloodied. Her clothes ragged and torn, hair matted. He pulled out his medic bag shuffling through it. In the distance he could hear gunfire, fading off to the west. He secured a final bandage and pulled the thin blanket over the unconscious kid's thin frame. A ranger from the NCR had warned him the other day that they were targeting raiders peddling kids from the east. He wondered if this kid had been one of those taken. He sensed a story untold. He sat near the sleeping bag staring at the fire. There was a man, Doc Mitchell, who came from a vault and lived in a town that wasn't too far away. He'd take the kid there, see if the man could help her. If she woke up, maybe he would be able to get her story from her, find out how it was she came to stumble into his camp in the middle of the night. ~*~

It was early afternoon before he reached Doc Mitchell's house, up on a hill overlooking the small town of Goodsprings. The kid hadn't stirred during the walk, luckily he hadn't encountered any geckos or the other things wandering in the Mojave. Probably the first time he'd been able to go so far without having to put down some crazed critter. Doc Mitchell's eyebrows arched high when he opened the door. He motioned the old scribe in, led him to a room in the back. "What happened to this one?" The Doc asked as the old scribe carefully laid the kid on one of the medical beds. "Not sure. She stumbled into my camp late last night. Heard some gunfire in the distance." The Doc nodded and did a quick look over. "You bandaged her up good." He carefully removed one of the bandages on her arm. "I've had lots of practice." The doc looked at him before nodding. "I reckon you have." He straightened. "You're welcome to take the guest room, if you're going to wait this out." "I wouldn't just dump her and run." The scribe sniffed. "Besides I want to know her story." The Doc chuckled. "I reckon you would." "I'll pay," "No, no." The doc waved him off as he set up his medical supplies. He went over to the wash basin. "You just go rest, don't worry about payin." The scribe frowned under his helmet, standing for a moment at the door. He watched as the Doc washed his hands and glanced his way. "Go on, Storyteller, I'll let you know how this goes." He shooed him off, closing the door to the surgery behind him. The Storyteller, a nickname he gained after sharing tales he'd learned through his travels, muttered a curse under his breath before tromping into the large living area. ~*~

He'd dozed off, leaning against a wall as he waited. Years of wearing his power armor had given him lots of practice. When people couldn't see your face, they couldn't tell you were napping standing up. "I've done what I can for her." Doc Mitchel was saying as he sank onto the couch. He held a bottle of purified water in his hand and motioned another sitting on the table. "I don't know that she'll ever wake up." The storyteller sighed. "It's just a waiting game then." "Yep. If'n she does wake up, she'll have an interestin story to tell." The Doc grinned at him. "There's a side room you can stay in while you wait." "How much," "I told you not to worry about payin." The Doc lifted a paper. "But if you can run down to the general store, give this to Chet, I'd be much obliged." The Storyteller took the paper glancing at it. He was glad his expression was hidden. He was now an errand boy. ~*~

She was comfortable. Sore, but comfortable. She stared up at the strange fan spinning slowly overhead and blinked several times. Where was she? Memories, disjointed, and strange. Running, falling, gunfire, and armor blended with jerky hazy moments she pushed out of her mind. She wasn't going to think about those things. She slowly pushed herself up, aware of bandages covering her arms and hands. She was on a bed, in a dim room that oddly smelled clean. Her face felt odd, numb but itchy. She reached up, tentatively touching her cheek. Another bandage? "You're awake!" A male voice said. She tensed, turning towards the speaker, heart pounding in her ears. An older, balding gentlemen with light almost friendly eyes sat in a chair next to her bed. "How are you feeling?" "Where am I?" her voice was raspy and the older man handed her a can of purified water. She held it with both bands, trembling as she sipped at it. "You must be parched. Yer in Goodsprings. I'm Doc Mitchell. An old friend of mine brought you here." "Power armor." She whispered. She remembered the power armor standing in firelight. The Doc nodded. "He never leaves his power armor, least not that I've ever seen. Now, where you from, hun? He said you stumbled into his camp before passing out." She blinked, sipping at the water again, trying to form an answer. "East." She frowned, trying to remember the name of the little settlement she thought of as home. "I don't remember the name of the town." "East, huh?" He peered at her. "What's your name girl?" "Calisto." She hesitated. "Everyone calls me Cal." "Cal, nice to meet you Cal. How far east?" She frowned dredging up old overheard conversations. "North of the Commonwealth."

~*~ Tumblr doesn't like how long this went so the next bit will be up shortly. Hope y'all enjoy.

#fo4 fanfic #fo4 fanfic union #writing #fo4 #fo4 fanfic oc calisto

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redisaid · 2 years

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In Good Company - Chapter 24

Parting Glass/Sing for Myself

This one will be followed by a short epilogue when I get around to it. Almost done! What a long strange journey this elf fic has been.

8821 Words

Read it on Ao3!

The sun felt good on her skin. It was like a warm, lingering kiss--not unlike the kind that Sylvanas seemed to have become fond of leaving on her shoulder in the few private moments they’d since shared. Jaina felt the Ranger General had a goal of kissing each freckle that had donned her there, but it would take more than a few stolen minutes in the infirmary for her to accomplish such a thing.

But the sun. The sun. She hadn’t thought about how she’d missed it. How good it was to have her boots pad across the soil and greenery of the forest floor, making as little noise as possible, even though it was hardly necessary just outside of the city. In fact, the protected woods of Eversong were more gold than green, but it didn’t matter. Jaina felt good. So good. Despite it all, despite everything, she felt right here, putting one foot in front of the other, marching in a line with the other rangers.

Ahead of her, Cindel’s blue cloak fluttered in a light and welcomed breeze. It was fully and deeply summer now in Quel’thalas, and the sun certainly brought a heat with it. Behind her, Illeryn entertained Artemesia, humming an acknowledgement to her chatter as they strode out of the shade and into the clearing.

Having spent three months now doing mostly this--just walking, it was hard to imagine that today would be the last day she’d walk with these women like this. Tomorrow, they would go their separate ways, to their assignments and duties, and only unite again if battle called for their return as a diversified unit.

Jaina had found herself contemplating the purpose of that all morning. Why did the elves separate their military in such a way? Wouldn’t it make more sense for them to train with troops like themselves? Snipers with snipers, spies with spies, mages with mages, priests with priests?

But, it worked like this. It really did. Jaina had seen it firsthand, in and out of battle, that the variety of skills and specialties that her squadmates possessed always had some use. She wondered when would be the next time she would see someone disappear into the shadows like Valeera could, or pick up the faintest of tracks and trails like Illeryn. And for a moment she wondered what she really had to offer herself in return, but banished the thought soon enough. She knew she had plenty. Her sister rangers had made her feel it was enough, and finally, she was ready to believe them.

As she drifted back down from that thought, Jaina noticed a heavy step fall in beside her. She glanced over to find Liadrin falling back to her side from further up the line, looking at her with an apology in her shining blue eyes.

Shining not unlike Jaina’s did now, and continued to do. Part of the reason, she was sure, that Liadrin was already sorry to bother her checking in yet again.

“I’m sure you can guess what I’m about to ask, but how are you feeling?” Liadrin ventured anyway, knowing that she’d asked the same question far too many times over the last few days.

“I’m good. Really good, actually,” Jaina told her.

She still hadn’t mentioned the song that now hummed pleasantly in the back of her mind, instead of being a distant discord of confusing noise she had to make an effort to ignore. Jaina wasn’t sure it really mattered. She wasn’t sure how much more it would drive Liadrin to ask her question after endless question. But most of all, it felt so deeply personal and private. Something maybe every elf had as their own relationship to the Sunwell, so intrinsic that it was never discussed among her peers.

Perhaps one day, she’d tell Sylvanas about it. But not Liadrin. Not now. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“I’m just doing my duty, and reminding you that I’d like to see you regularly for check ups in Silvermoon, once your schedule allows. And also to remind you that if I don’t tell the magistrate that I’m taking care of it and to leave you alone, that they will likely become even more annoying than me,” Liadrin went on.

Her lips twitched up into a little mischievous smile that read of someone who spent a little too much time with a far more mischievous person, but Jaina knew by now that Liadrin’s stoic exterior was as much a front as Sylvanas’ perfect one was. She had plenty of her own mischief within, and no need to borrow from Valeera.

“I’m planning to take you up on that offer, don’t worry,” Jaina assured her. “And I will once I see how today goes.”

“There’s no need to be nervous,” Liadrin told her. “We have your back. And you are news again for an entirely different reason outside of being the first human ranger in Quel’thalas.”

“Maybe one day I won’t be news at all,” Jaina sighed. “But I suppose today isn’t that day.”

“I don’t think that day will ever come for you, Jaina Proudmoore,” Liadrin said with a deep laugh. “But I mean it in a positive way. You are influential in all that you do, whether you like to be or not. Perhaps one day you will take comfort in it and find that you do indeed thrive when all eyes are on you.”

“Perhaps I’ll find the time to split all the attention with maybe a little sliver of peace and quiet.”

Because as much as it felt great to walk in the sun, to revel in her new and personal understandings on her way to a ceremony where she would be very visible and very different despite it all, Jaina had a great longing for an evening with a cup of tea and a good book and not much else. Maybe Sylvanas quietly doing paperwork nearby, offering her a silent smile on occasion. Yes, that would be lovely, actually.

“Speaking of news,” Liadrin noted, thankfully steering the conversation away from health-related nagging, “I managed to catch up with Lor’themar just now.”

That was an easy feat, as his troops had waited out finishing their Thalasdiel until Sylvanas’ could march with them, as Jaina came to understand was promised between them. Lor’themar had taken the extra few days in the city to help manage the investigation into Kael’thas and Dar’khan’s plans--along with Sylvanas’ siblings and just about any other elf that had been friendly toward Jaina during her time in their lands.

“Anything new?” Jaina asked, knowing it was likely there wasn’t much.

Liadrin shrugged, ears pinning back a bit in her own annoyance. “Not really. You heard yourself that Anasterian formally stripped Kael’thas of his titles just before we left and declared he would be seeking a new heir to the throne. There’s rumors that he’ll offer it to Sylvanas.”

Jaina snorted out a laugh so quickly at that that there was never even an opportunity to contain it. “She would never accept.”

“Of course she wouldn’t,” Liadrin agreed with a grin. “There’s no chance she’d give the rangers up to someone else, and no chance she’d ever want a royal title to begin with. I should hope Anasterian realizes that he would be barking up a very incorrect tree there, but I think the old man knows enough to avoid the embarrassment of her turning him down.”

Jaina laughed again at this, finding it took a bit of the edge off of her nerves. Between the summer sun dappling through the leaves and joking about her superiors, she could nearly forget about what lay ahead for her at the end of this last trail.

“Kael’thas is still not talking, of course. Dar’khan has only spoken to berate his guards and call them ‘feeble-minded and near-sighted’, or so they report. Funny how he still seems to think this was a good plan, even though he’s the one rotting in a cell. He looks even stupider without that awful hat, if you can believe it,” Liadrin went on.

“What about their magisters? Did they have anything new to say?” Jaina asked.

More of Kael’thas’ followers had come forth with information in the days after Jaina awoke, especially once they learned that one of their own had been allowed to go home on house arrest for his cooperation. Together they had painted a picture of a plan that had involved Jaina from the moment she was introduced to Sylvanas in Dalaran, with neither of them being the wiser. As deeply guilty and annoyed as Jaina felt for allowing herself to be played, Sylvanas quite obviously felt it tenfold, so much so that her rage at the whole situation often slipped past her mask in polite company, and her apologies for it were a constant and steady stream in the private moments that she and Jaina had gotten to share since.

But in the end, all they knew was that Kael’thas had specifically sought Jaina out to bring to the Sunwell for some sort of fel ritual, and that he had assured his confidantes that it was of the utmost importance. Only a late ferry and the former prince’s own overconfidence had saved those magisters from the decision of whether or not to turn traitor against their own Ranger General in order to allow the ritual to come to fruition.

For her part, Jaina didn’t feel as though any part of it had. Everything had happened so suddenly, and her memory of much of that day was still foggy. She certainly didn’t feel any of the demonic energies that she had studied in her investigations into the orcish Horde. The only difference she knew for it were her glowing eyes and the pleasant song that tugged gently at her heartstrings if she listened long enough. Oh, and yes, a greater percentage of white in her hair. After actually getting time to examine herself properly, alone, Jaina found that the steaks of gold in her hair had been reduced to one singular large streak just above her forehead, with the rest gone a uniform snowy white from the arcane exposure. So there was that.

It was no surprise then when Liadrin shook her head for a “no” on that matter. Kael’thas had left his own men in the dark in an attempt to trick them as much as he had everyone else.

“I suspect it may be months, even years, before we know the whole of it,” Liadrin said. “But maybe not. Kael’thas was always vain, and I wouldn’t put it past him to write down some brilliant master plan of his somewhere to enshrine, if only so he could point out later just how brilliant it all was. Vereesa is leading a team now to search through his property on the royal estates for more information, but it’ll take time to sift through all of his notes.”

“I suppose it really doesn’t matter in the end,” Jaina noted. “What happened has already happened, and we know it wasn’t what he wanted. We won and he lost.”

“Your esteemed Ranger General and new girlfriend would argue that it’s not good strategy to ignore the motives of one’s attackers,” Liadrin said with another wide grin. She and the others had taken to teasing Jaina and Sylvanas relentlessly in their last opportunities to do so, but always with great fondness and support of their now known relationship.

“I would argue that she can worry about it all she likes, but I’d rather move on from it sooner rather than later,” Jaina told her. “Gods know I’ve learned that lesson at least from my past.”

“I don’t blame you. It seems as though you’ll be too busy to worry about it much soon enough,” Liadrin said, this time reaching out to offer Jaina an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

If she were to go back and tell herself three months ago that she’d actually come to enjoy the touchy-feely nature of the elves, then past Jaina likely wouldn’t have believed future Jaina. It had been a thing that greatly unnerved her in the beginning, but now she enjoyed it, and smiled back at Liadrin for her efforts rather than wanting it to be over as soon as possible. The tactile nature of her comrades now made her feel welcome and included, rather than standout. And she was trying her best to become comfortable with reciprocating in kind.

“I suppose we’ll find out,” Jaina noted, giving Liadrin her best warm smile.

And it wasn’t so hard to do that. It came naturally to her lips and didn’t feel forced. Jaina realized all at once, out there in the manicured woods of Eversong, that it was easy for her to smile now. Easier than it had been in a very long time. Here in this place where she wasn’t supposed to belong, she had more friends who cared deeply about her than she’d ever had before. She had found love. She had found a purpose. And even when someone tried to take it all from her again, those friends had come through and didn’t let them.

She reveled in that feeling even as Liadrin broke off from her with a nod. She went to join the three captains, who seemed to have been waiting for them to catch up on the side of the path. And while they didn’t invite Jaina to join along with her, all three gave her a similar nod of respect and acknowledgement that was more than enough to have her heart soaring again.

To think she had once feared these older, battle-hardened elves, with their eyes full of steely scrutiny. Thalasdiel had chipped away at their hardened exteriors too. Illeryn had been fast to reveal herself as nosy and motherly while never admitting to either. Ayndais was quick with her blade and her bow, but snored fiercely in her sleep and had a loyalty to the Rangers as a whole that ran deeper than could be comprehended. And Tessandra’s wise gaze held a kindness behind it that also knew no bounds. Jaina had been privileged to get to know them as people rather than names and titles, and it made the purpose of this journey all the more apparent to her.

As she passed them, she found a few of Lor’themar’s rangers had intermingled with the line and were now pulling off to the side to reform themselves behind Sylvanas’ troops. Jaina looked ahead and found that she could start to see signs of buildings and activity in distant clearings ahead. They were getting close now.

A nervousness began to prick at Jaina’s skin even as she returned nods and smiles from Lor’themar’s rangers, but obviously not the fond cants of their long ears. Again, the change of her eyes she could very much deal with, but she found herself thankful that the Sunwell had left her human enough to the point where she hadn’t sprouted those ridiculous ears. Well, even if she did find them very endearing on her elven comrades.

But it was another set of ears that were instead pricked upward with excitement that caught her eye over the line, along with the dark hair they sprung from. Cindel was waiting at the side of the trail for her, and fell into step with Jaina, beaming.

“Excited to see your family again?” Jaina asked after her grin.

“Of course,” Cindel answered, and then added with a wink, “But I’m also excited for a little something else.”

And while Jaina knew what she was referring to, that was also exactly what had her on edge. Liadrin had said she needed to get used to having eyes on her, but the relief of those eyes being limited these last few months had been wonderful. And now it was about to be very much broken and very much the opposite all over again.

Oh the things she and her ambitions got herself into…

“You don’t seem so excited?” Cindel wondered, her brows furrowing as she took the time to analyze Jaina’s reaction.

“I am excited,” Jaina told her. “It’s just that I hope this is enough. I hope the Ranger Lords can see what I have to offer and that I’m worth their consideration.”

“Well, it’s Sylvanas’ say and not theirs, at the end of the day,” Cindel reminded her. “And she’s already decided.”

“I also don’t want it to seem like that’s because I’m a charity case or something,” Jaina went on.

“You are not and never have been a charity case, Jaina. As sweet as we both know she secretly is, Sylvanas doesn’t do charity cases. She would never have allowed you into the Rangers unless she saw some potential in you,” Cindel said with a nod and a confidence that didn’t seem at home in the woman that Jaina had first met at the very lodge that loomed ahead of them, with the magistrix glaring at her across the dimly-lit alcove, afraid she was staring down her replacement.

But now they had become fast friends in the portion of their walk after Cindel had warmed up to her. And while Cindel had started their trip feeling inferior, Jaina had soon found her to be a wealth of knowledge, now offered freely to her, about many things she sorely lacked expertise in herself. Whether it be fire magic, elven culture and history, or even the useful properties of the herbs and flowers of Quel’thalas and their relevance to magic. She’d truly found a kindred spirit in the realms of study and odd knowledge, and had very much enjoyed her talks with Cindel on the trail. So much so that they had already planned for Jaina to visit her and her family in Fairbreeze Village as soon as her new schedule would allow.

“And trust me Jaina,” Cindel continued. “From what you’ve shared with me, and how you plan to help people like me specifically, this is a thing sorely needed. Most elves don’t like change. We’re stuck in the languid pace of our lives and our funny little traditions, but sometimes a change is exactly what we need to be reminded of our place in the world again. Even more fitting that it should come from outside. Quel’thalas is just another kingdom of many in the world, and in the Alliance. We could stand to listen to others more, especially if they are as brilliant as you.”

Jaina chuckled at that last bit, and Cindel followed suit shortly thereafter. While her fellow mage didn’t quite possess the depths of power that she did, Cindel certainly had the intellect for the profession, and they’d taken plenty of turns calling each other some variation of smart before devolving into laughter over the last few months. It certainly wasn’t the outcome that Jaina had predicted for them as they met for the first time at Farstrider Retreat, but she was very glad that this was where they had ended up upon their return.

“You’re going to be fine,” Cindel assured her after waving off her laugh. “More than fine. Amazing. I know it. And you know it too.”

Jaina nodded to this. While she still didn’t quite have her answer as to what that potential in her was, she felt that this was right. She didn’t have the words for it, and likely never would. Some things didn’t quite need words to make sense.

She’d tried to find them in her journal, scribbling in her infirmary bed. Jaina had crossed out as many lines as she’d left uncrossed, until Sylvanas dropped by and asked what she was writing about. She’d just shaken her head and closed the book. Opening her arms to Sylvanas for an embrace was far more appealing than trying to find words that would never come. Feeling and being, in fact, might just be better than scribbling at a deeper meaning. Jaina hadn’t felt the urge to write in her journal since, at least not when Sylvanas was an option for distraction instead, and her quiet appreciation and soft smirks were just as good a sounding board for Jaina’s thoughts as pen and paper.

The line began to spread out more as they hit the clearing in which Farstrider Retreat stood. The golden oaks parted only just a bit in their canopy far above to provide a few shafts of bright sunlight to illuminate the lodge, and what appeared to be several hundred elves gathered there to welcome home the two squadrons from their walk. Jaina watched as Sylvanas broke off from the point of their line, and made her way to greet the Ranger Lords. She knew she wouldn’t see all that much of her today, due to all the pomp and circumstance of her having to officially take back her duties as Ranger General. Jaina knew she wouldn’t honestly see as much of her as she liked for quite a while after this because of the very same thing, but that was fine.

She could be content with what little moments they would get to share. Jaina was never one to feel cheated by business. She too thrived on a schedule that didn’t leave her too much time to think. Even so, imagining those evenings where she might wait for Sylvanas in the Ranger General’s suite, only to see her walk through the door and drop that mask of hers into her goofy little smile, all just for her, was worth waiting as long as she needed to for it.

But it was a different Windrunner who caught her eye next. Gold flashed near the white walls of the Retreat’s main spire, as Lirath waved to her over his other sister’s silvery head. Indeed it did appear that both Windrunner siblings were content to ignore their older sister and leave her to her important business, but were very much trying to get Jaina’s attention.

“It seems I have go pay Vereesa and Lirath a visit before things get started,” Jaina noted to Cindel.

Cindel chuckled at this as she noticed them waving. “It seems so. It will be a while before they get things set up anyway. Take your time. Liardin will probably round everyone up long before the ceremonies start and make us stand around anyway.”

“She’s so good at it though,” Jaina laughed.

She bid Cindel farewell for now and broke from the line as many others were doing. They went off to friends and family who had gathered to see them home. And while Jaina wouldn’t be finding any Proudmoores among the crowd, or any other humans for that matter, the Windrunner siblings were still waving with enough gusto for her to easily forget that fact and trot over to them.

And if those thoughts weren’t otherwise banished, they would have been choked out of her by the crushing sandwich hug that Vereesa and Lirath seemed to have weaponized for that exact purpose. At least it had that effect on Sylvanas when she wasn’t too busy, but Jaina counted herself lucky to be on the receiving end today.

“Jaina! How was your walk? You’re okay being back on your feet again?” Vereesa asked as she pulled back and looked her over.

Her silvery hair was a standout among the mostly blonde sea of clustered elves. While there were some other similar standouts, and rare dots of red or brown or black, Jaina always found herself struck with the general sameness of the elves. No wonder they were afraid of new and different things as a whole.

“I’m good, really,” Jaina answered for what felt like the thousandth time in the last week.

She’d been back on her feet since that evening she woke up in the infirmary. Liadrin and her team of fellow priests had healed her completely as she slept, and while she wasn’t exactly at the full peak strength she had previously been enjoying for a few days thereafter, she had been more than ready for half a day's walk and very much ready to complete her Thalasdiel ever since.

Still, Vereesa peered up at her dubiously from beneath the green of her Farstrider hood as she pulled back, examining her for herself, and squinted her own glowing eyes at Jaina’s when she seemed to find nothing else amiss.

Lirath, for his part, mimed annoyance with his sister. But, at the same time, Jaina could feel his arcane energy brushing up against hers in its own askance, checking to see if there was anything magically different about her. He’d done it before and reported that he hadn’t noticed anything, as had other magisters who had come calling in the days Jaina and the others had been given to recover. And while Jaina wondered at whether or not anything really had changed about her magically, she decided that if it had, it was imperceptible to the elves either way, who always seemed to take their connection to the Sunwell for granted.

“Well, we’re going to have to face facts and get this over with, aren’t we?” Lirath asked, turning to his sister with a grin after he seemed to be content that the results of his own prodding remained the same.

“Afraid so,” Vereesa agreed.

“I’m sorry, but what are you two talking about?” Jaina questioned them both.

She looked between them, finding them an odd mixture of their older sister’s features. Lirath was tall and lanky, with hair a bright buttery gold. Vereesa was the smallest of the three, and seemed more youthful in her appearance even than her younger brother. But somehow, if you were to shake them together, you’d get Sylvanas out of it. A grinning Sylvanas on the verge of some sort of mischief or scolding, and little inbetween.

“Whether or not things work out with our sister, we have decided you are now a Windrunner and shall remain one,” Lirath announced. “Mostly because we like you and find you to be very interesting and fun. Also because Sylvanas would be a fool to let you get away from her.”

Before Jaina could even react to that, Vereesa added, “And since you are now an honorary Windrunner sibling, you are now required to obey the pact of not doing anything risky or stupid for the next decade or so.”

“I wanted to impose a century, but Vereesa insisted we needed to be flexible,” Lirath offered.

“That could be her whole lifetime!”

“Look at those eyes Little Moon! I highly doubt it now.”

“But you don’t know it!”

“Please,” Jaina said with a laugh, getting in-between them again to stop whatever was threatening to start. “We can debate the terms later. But a while with no foolishness sounds good to me.”

“Wait, you’re just fine with it?” Vereesa wondered.

“That’s very boring of you, Jaina,” Lirath told her. “Not to put up a fight.”

“Boring sounds nice,” Jaina noted to both of them, pulling them both into a loose hug on either arm. “Boring as in busy but peaceful nonsense. Getting into only very mild trouble with you and the magistrate, Lirath. And dragging Sylvanas with me to visit you in Dalaran, Vereesa.”

“She hates Dalaran,” Vereesa said with a vigorous nod and a wide grin.

“She really hates Dalaran,” Lirath agreed in fashion. “So you’ll have to bring me along as well.”

“We’ll plan on it,” Jaina told him. “And thank you. I missed having a little brother. And I’ve never had a sister.”

“Jaina, I’m twice your age,” Lirath reminded her, giving her the slightest playful shove with his construct arm, seemingly not even thinking about it anymore. It was so long ago that he didn’t even trust it to touch a doorknob.

“Act like it then,” Vereesa snapped at him while still beaming all the while.

“And as for your sister,” Jaina told them, “I think I’d be a fool to lose her too.”

She found herself looking for Sylvanas over their heads. She wasn’t hard to pick out, having already dressed in her Ranger General regalia for the ceremonies ahead. She was a glittering star amongst a sea of blues and greens, whether she liked it or not. Jaina knew that some part of her did. Sylvanas liked to shine, and shine she did in that clearing, in the light of the blessed sun. While Jaina knew she carried a shared nervousness, same as hers, Sylvanas didn’t show it as she smiled at the Ranger Lords she spoke to from beneath her mask of perfection. Flawed as she was underneath it, and aware of those flaws as Jaina was, none of them dulled her shine.

Only it was the Ranger Lord Jaina didn’t expect who blocked her view of Sylvanas with a glass of mana wine that nearly spilled onto Lirath’s head.

“Jaina!” Lor’themar shouted, thrusting the glass at her again despite the precarious angle. “Drink with us a bit until we have to stand around like idiots for the rest of this fine afternoon.”

She carefully took up the glass to avoid soaking her newly-declared brother, who looked more offended that it wasn’t being offered to him than anything. “Shouldn’t you be preparing a speech or something.”

“Me? No,” Lor’themar waved with his own near-empty glass. “Everyone knows I wing it every time. You don’t need to prepare when you’re a natural speaker like me, or at least not a damn perfectionist like Sylvanas.”

He too was clad in the obnoxious ceremonial grab of a Ranger Lord, more gilded and less practical than anything. Each Ranger Lord seemed to have a different flair for their own version of the outfit, and Lor’themar’s involved a pair of pauldrons that threatened to rival Kael’thas’ in size. These were formed like bird’s wings pointing upward--the of a specific type of eagle that Jaina had since learned was the emblem of his house.

In the distance, closer toward the entrance of the main spire of the Retreat, Jaina could hear what seemed to be the beginning of a song.

“See, they’re starting without us!” Lor’themar protested as he moved to tug on Jaina’s arm and drag her away from the Windrunner siblings.

“Another tradition?” Jaina wondered aloud.

“Of course,” Lor’themar answered. “Because no one would make it through all this pageantry while completely sober, especially after three months of not having to deal with it. Better we ease our way back into our stuffy society with drink and song--one last time before it’s over. Oh, and good day Vereesa, Lirath. There’s plenty more wine back that way if you also need something to tide you over.”

“Thank the gods,” Lirath drolled and then speedily led the way toward the song.

Jaina followed Lor’themar, eventually looping her arm in with his and allowing herself to be escorted to the impromptu final party that was forming on the steps of the Retreat. As they got closer, she could make out the shapes of each of her own squadron, mixed with Lor’themar’s and a few other stray rangers or their relatives that had come to join in.

But that wasn’t the standout in her mind as they got closer. It was the song. A song she, for once, knew. A song she was pretty certain had its origins in different parts of this world, but was being sung in Thalassian as if it were made for it.

“Of all the money that ever I had, I spent it in good company. And all the harm I’ve ever done, Alas it was to none but me.”

“I know this song,” Jaina couldn’t help but remark. “It’s the very last day and you all are finally singing a song I know already.”

Lor’themar just laughed. “Everyone knows this song.”

“I thought it was Kul Tiran,” she admitted, but washed away that potential existential crisis with a sip of sweet mana wine.

“And the dwarves say it was theirs first too,” Lor’themar told her. “But I can tell you that as a proud Farstrider, this song has been sung in every tavern I’ve ever been in, around every hearth where there are friends and a bit of alcohol to be found. No one is too good for it or above its singing. So don’t worry too much about it. Sing with us, Jaina. One more time.”

And so she joined him, feeling the rumbling of his baritone through where he held her arm along his ribs, at least until he spun her out and brought her back to her fellow rangers with characteristic flair.

“And all I've done for want of wit, To memory now I can't recall. So fill to me the parting glass, Good night and joy be to you all.”

---

Ceremonies always filled Sylvanas with an age old nervous dread she could never quite shake. Though she had been through perhaps thousands of like events in her days, she always felt as though her mother was watching her with the same stern and steely gray eyes that looked back at her in the mirror and demanded attention and attentiveness--two things Lireesa Windrunner never failed to remind her were separate and equally important.

Sylvanas even swore she could sometimes hear her mother still saying, “Eyes up, recruit. They may not be watching you now, but someday they will. And you will have to be ready for it.”

Sylvanas was never quite ready, but had mastered the art of acting the part all the same. She’d spent the better part of the week preparing this speech, between being pestered by Liadrin and her healers and making sure her squadron stuck to their mandated rest and observation within the infirmary. The latter, of course, having been far more difficult than the former. Yet despite it all, she had managed to find time to spend with Jaina every day. She suspected that, despite her worrying, this behavior would be even easier when her squadron was no longer her sole responsibility to manage after today.

She had a view of about half the room below from where she stood, waiting for her introduction. Jaina was at the very end of that sliver of light--smiling between Illeryn and Lor’themar’s recruit--the young man named Hathvelion. They stood with their squadrons as they had before, ready to be addressed, though this time Jaina looked far less bewildered, if still a little nervous.

She had nothing to be nervous about, really. While plenty of the Ranger Lords had offered a grumble or two to Sylvanas about the human she’d admitted to their ranks, and her intentions for her and the changes that would come with it, they had been more than grumbles. The annoyed huffing roars of old lions past their prime. The younger among them had immediately taken to the idea of better incorporating their mages into their ranks with Jaina’s lead, and it had been all that Sylvanas could do to get away from their eager questions when it was time for the ceremony to begin.

She watched now as Halduron graciously thanked the assemblage for aiding him in his time as acting Ranger General, and watched his ears seem to fall back with his relief as he bowed and pointed toward the doorway, once again introducing her as Ranger General Sylvanas Windrunner.

Perhaps one day, she’d feel like she truly deserved the title. But the doubt she felt about herself seemed a little less crushing as she found Jaina looking up at her and smiling.

“Rangers,” she began, voice echoing over the expanse of the open-air spire of Farstrider’s Retreat. “It is with great pride that I greet you today, in order to both take up my mantle again, and to mark the end of another Thalasdiel for both my own squadron, and that of my esteemed comrade in arms, Lord Lor’themar Theron. But pride really is an odd word, and one both fitting and not fitting for this day.”

“I’m often asked by young rangers, still recruits just starting their journey, what is the point of Thalasdiel? Why walk around the kingdom? I remember asking my mother this question as she left for one when I was still quite small. Her answer was that it taught the troops to appreciate the land they defend. And while that’s true, each time I walk, I’m reminded of the other purposes of this journey.”

Sylvanas gazed out over faces she would probably not see again for some time. Liadrin would go back to her duties as a High Priestess of Belore, serving under her adopted father, who seemed intent on having her replace him as he retired, while she seemed intent on not allowing him to do so. Valeera, though she didn’t know it yet, would be going to train with Anya and her spies, to see if she could adopt enough discipline to work in the quieter arts of the Rangers, and if that might be a better fit for her than the Home Guard. The others too, had their places and their duties to return to. Illeryn would go back to scouting and charting. The twins back to guarding the docks. Ayndais and Tessandra back to commanding where they were needed most at the border of the ever-present conflict with the Amani.

They would all scatter again soon, floating on the wind like dandelion seeds blown to the four corners of the kingdom.

“We walk for many reasons,” Sylvanas continued. “We walk to appreciate our land, yes. We walk to appreciate our feet, and our bodies, and the work they do to protect this place. We walk too, to get to know one another, and to connect with those we will fight alongside. But as anyone who has walked a Thalasdiel or two can tell you, pride is the first and most important thing to go as we walk.”

“We’re often seen as a people who hold pride in an unbecoming way. We think ourselves better, older, wiser than the world. But pride is often misplaced in a ranger. Pride doesn’t keep you vigilant. It doesn’t keep you strong. It keeps you from changing because you think you don’t need to. But pride doesn’t last long when you’re sleeping around the same fire and complaining about the heat and your knees together. And I think that’s often something we choose to overlook because it isn’t pretty to talk about. But it’s also so important.”

“Each time I walk, I am humbled by both this land, and by my fellow rangers. I am reminded that we are all just that--Rangers. Each and every one of us, regardless of differences in uniform or title. All of us are Rangers, and that’s what we have to be proud of.”

With the last line, Sylvanas made an effort to look right at Jaina, both for show and for grounding. Jaina offered her a very subtle nod, one that only she could really see from this angle above her in the crowd. One that said she understood and appreciated the reminder. And then with it her eyes conveyed a message in their new, soft glow that seemed to say, “Then come down here with me, ranger. I miss you.”

It was a wonder Sylvanas even made it through her speech, because she very much wanted to. She felt so much for Jaina that it was almost dangerous. But very good. Very good and a little dangerous, at least in terms of her productivity.

“And with that,” she went on, suppressing a smirk as she tore her eyes away from Jaina. “It’s my honor to re-introduce Lord Theron to have him honor the newest member of his squadron.”

Lor’themar reappeared from the alcove, shouldering in infront of her with his ridiculous Ranger Lord getup with a nod. He’d already made his speech earlier, a rambling diatribe about how his time among his squadron was like so many gold pieces that he collected or something. She’d mostly tuned him out to rehearse her own speech again.

“Rangers,” he started, gesturing to his new recruit down below. “It is with great pleasure that I reintroduce you to Ranger Hathvelion Sungaze. He first drew my attention during a visit to the academy that I undertook a few years past. I watched him tackle that dreaded obstacle course with ease, and asked after him. Ranger Sungaze here has a keen interest in the mountains, and was so good at that damnable thing because he enjoys climbing them. The rest of my men can attest that this is a skill we do not have, and thus I kept in touch with Ranger Sungaze to learn more about it, and to ask after his interest in joining my squadron after training. I’m pleased to say that he was interested, and that I will be announcing him as taking a leading role in our new alpine training program for Farstriders headed toward mountainous regions of Azeroth.”

Cheers erupted from below, and Lor’themar’s men piled around Hathvelion, offering their own brand of deep shouts of encouragement and pats on the back that came as audible claps that echoed through the spire.

Lor’themar turned back to look at Sylvanas, offering her a silent smile and reintroduction. After a moment, he slid his hand out in gesture, pointing the way, and whispered. “She’ll do great. I know it.”

Sylvanas nodded back to this. It wasn’t Jaina she was worried about. It never was. No, Jaina could handle herself, always. That was part of one of the many things that Sylvanas very much liked about her.

Sylvanas stepped back up to the front and said, “It is my pleasure to reintroduce you to Ranger Jaina Proudmoore.”

All eyes were on her now, and now all of them were glowing. Though Sylvanas was concerned about this latest feature of Jaina’s, this last week had assured her that the woman she was very much falling in love with remained the same, despite her newly luminous gaze. It did make her a little bit harder to pick out of the crowd of elves, but not much. Sylvanas decided she wouldn’t like it any other way.

“As you might know, Jaina is unlike any other ranger I’ve had the honor of commanding. And it’s not because she is the only human currently in our ranks. The former Prince Kael’thas clearly had other motives when he introduced us, but instead of fulfilling his sinister plans, I now have to unfortunately offer him some measure of gratitude for bringing Jaina to my attention. She demonstrated skill with the bow that matched and exceeded many of our best, and showed me a new technique she had developed of combining magic and archer in a way I had not yet seen. When I spoke before on pride, I have to admit that I myself carried plenty of it that day, and it had me initially turning the idea of bringing her in as a ranger down. But, her passion for her art and the innovations she derives from it was what sold me then, and what continues to sell me every day I have spent in her company,” Sylvanas explained.

“Rangers, I would like for you to see the same passion that I have seen before I make my announcement.”

Sylvanas gestured toward the ceiling, bidding the audience to look up, but not before making an effort to catch her brother’s eye and make sure he was ready. Lirath grinned at her before his ears pinned back in concentration, and he conjured a looping line of arcane targets that swirled through the air.

Before she could even dwell on the fact that it was good to see him confidently practicing his magic again, a set of gasps followed. Sylvanas turned her gaze to her squadron as they formed up beneath Jaina, lifting her up onto a platform formed of their backs. She stood proudly and bravely above the crowd on a carpet of blue and green cloaks, her spellbow gripped tightly in her hands. The crystals on it flared to life, glowing as they helped her to concentrate and funnel her magic into the projectiles she had mastered.

Jaina sent missiles of frost, fire, and arcane soaring to the targets, hitting each one perfectly. Her accuracy didn’t wane with the nervousness that Sylvanas knew she must be feeling, just as it hadn’t in Dalaran. Her eyes flared with the use of magic, glowing brighter with the same fire that Sylvanas had seen in them then, only now made obvious for all.

She didn’t miss a single shot, even as Lirath sped the targets up, whipping them just below the ceiling of the open spire.

“A good Ranger General knows when they are seeing something new and wonderful, something that can help them, and can help us all defend this land. I can see you too are impressed. And while I think we can all see the practical implications of this technique, where myself and Jaina see it helping our organization the most comes down yet again to pride,” Sylvanas said before nodding again. “Cindel, if you would.”

Another figure joined Jaina on the backs of her squadron, lifted up for what seemed like the first time in a long while. Cindel had served them tirelessly as a ranger mage, but had never really been given the chance to shine. Not like this. Hers was a thankless and unglamours job, or well, it once was. Not anymore.

For she too produced a spellbow. It wasn’t quite as pretty as Jaina’s or as neatly crafted. It had been a thing rushed and hastily put together with this idea over the last week--crystals that Lirath had been sent to pilfer, wood that Illeryn had conned a quartermaster out of, paint that the others had gathered herbs and pigments for from gardens all across Silvermoon. It was mostly Jaina’s effort in recreating under such duress, but really the effort of the entire squadron.

Lirath spun a new set of targets into the air. No one seemed to complain that these drifted at quite a lazy pace. Cindel had only had a week to practice, after all.

But she hit quite a few of her shots. Not all of them, but more than half. Her fire missiles seemed to be the best and brightest of them, though she did manage to create one of every kind. But more importantly, the crowd watched as a ranger mage shot a bow--a woman who had once told Sylvanas she felt a failure, and that she was assigned this job because she didn’t belong, smiled as she felt like she finally did belong.

And Jaina grinned along with her at her success, and kept it up as they finished together, both shooting in a whirl of magic at a third set of targets.

“Ranger Jaina Proudmoore has done me the honor of teaching me that such innovations don’t necessarily mean abandoning our past, our traditions. They might provide us a way to improve upon them. She will be seeking to make our ranger mages feel more at home in their squadrons by training them in this technique, as well as providing them a sense of identity and leadership within the Ranger Corps as a whole. Over the next few years, she will be working with me to create a division that the mages in our company can feel proud to represent.”

While Sylvanas had expected to meet with a bit of silence, maybe some grumbling and glaring, she was surprised to find that the reaction to this announcement was mostly one of cheers. Resounding, happy cheers. A few stunned into just offering claps and nods.

But overall, it was overwhelmingly a reaction of acceptance.

They saw it too. They’d all seen it now. Jaina caught Sylvanas’ eyes again, as Liadrin and Illeryn lifted her on their shoulders even higher, and nodded back up at her. She might not have wanted a life in the spotlight, but there was little Sylvanas could do to deny that it looked good on her. And she thought that Jaina might know that too.

Lor’themar, for his part, was at least kind enough to wait for the cheers to die down a bit before he edged back in front of her again and announced, “Way to steal the show, Sylvanas, Jaina. I have a feeling it will keep happening, but that’s a story for another day. I think we’ve all had enough of speeches and demonstrations. Shall we end this thing and celebrate?”

The cheers roiled up again to meet him from below, and were especially loud from his own men.

“Then let’s hear you two sing! One more song for the roads we’ve walked and will walk again in time,” Lor’themar commanded.

Sylvanas knew that Jaina had probably been more nervous about this moment than her magical demonstration. She couldn’t blame her. The singing had been something she didn’t seem to expect, but had embraced as their journey went on. But to Jaina, music had always seemed to feel a tad too personal. She’d balked a bit when Sylvanas had been the one to explain to her that she would be expected to lead the squadron in a final song.

But Sylvanas had also watched her over the last week, practicing when she thought no one was within hearing range, or within sight as well. Unfortunately for her, Sylvanas had excellent hearing, excellent sight, and a particular love of her voice.

She watched as Jaina readied herself, now thankfully let down from the shoulders of the other rangers, as they backed off and gave her and Hathvelion space to stand together in. Ah well, at least she had the boy to sing with. But she could do it. Sylvanas knew she could.

She was pretty sure Jaina could do just about anything she set her mind to.

“Out of the fallen trees we sing, Sing like we're losing everything. Lost and without a place to go, Sing for myself, it's all I know.”

Jaina’s solid alto mixed well with Hatvelion’s trembling tenor. They were to begin the song alone, standing out amidst the silence that greeted them from both their own squadrons and the onlookers and family members that had come to greet them.

“Born to a brand new century, Sing for our sisters patiently. Born to a day that's just begun, Sing for our mothers and our sons.”

The other rangers returning from Thalasdiel began to join them, first with hums. Deep bass and trilling soprano alike from both squadrons, and everything in-between. A place of each voice, each part.

“We sing for the voices never heard, Sing for the lessons we've still not learned. Sing for the peace we've never won, Sing for the work that's still not done.”

Sylvanas watched the ease wash over Jaina’s face as the voices joined her and Hathvelion’s fully, coming to a roaring crescendo that echoed over the alabaster walls of the Retreat. She was once again what she so very much wanted to be. A part of a whole. A piece of a puzzle. A piece that Sylvanas hadn’t realized was so sorely needed to complete it, both for her military, and for her heart.

She couldn’t wait to come down to join her again.

“And if on our darkest days we cry, Sing 'til we put our fears aside. And if I feel myself begin to fold, Sing for myself, it's all I know. Sing for myself, it's all I know.”

The chorus of rangers died down, leaving Jaina and Hathvelion alone to sing the last line. The crowd left it to reverberate for just a moment before they erupted in another set of cheers. The ranger collapsed in again, embracing and celebrating. Jaina laughed as Hathvelion picked her up in a bear hug.

A hand on her elbow finally stirred Sylvanas from her musings as she watched the crowd below begin to mingle--cloaks of Ranger Blue and Farstrider Green and Priest White and Officer Teal mixing and melding with the clothes of the audience members and the ridiculous finery of the Ranger Lords in attendance. She lost Jaina in there, somewhere in a sea of pointed ears and glowing eyes and sharp features that she was now just that much harder to pick out of.

Lor’themar squeezed at her arm, drawing Sylvanas’ attention to him. “How about you go find that Ranger Proudmoore of yours and kiss her,” he suggested. “I think she deserves that much.”

Sylvanas found herself grateful for the reminder, and answered with a smile that came easily past a mask she felt lift from her face as though it were something physical. “I think she does,” she agreed.

#Sylvanas Windrunner #Jaina Proudmoore #sylvaina #fanfic #in good company #ty very much to those of you patiently waiting for this fic to finish #i know my haituses have been long and many

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fill-me-with-your-memes-daddy · 3 years

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Watching the Rise of the Titans movie and I'll be documenting all of my thoughts/reactions here. [Spoiler Warning]

So instead of reblogging every new update, I'm just going to have this post up on my phone as I watch and type my reactions in a bullet list format.

Nari's human disguise is so cute. As someone who does have a cottagecore aesthetic, I want to cosplay her so bad

Are Skrael and/or Belroc non-binary coded? Regardless, I'm also obsessed and I want to fuck Skrael and be Belroc.

STEVE CARING ABOUT JIM BEING HURT YESSSS!!! My god his redemption has probably been one of the greatest there is because he doesn't just suddenly go from being a bully to a completely good person. You can see the gradual shift in learning better throughout the shows which is awesome.

IN NEW YOOOOOOORRRRRRRK!!!!!! CONCRETE JUNGLE WHERE DREAMS ARE MADE OFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!

The mugshot montage reminded me of season 1 of trollhunters when toby and Jim were arrested at the museum.

STRICKLER PUT A RING ON IT??? HE'S THE ONLY DILF IVE EVER ACTUALLY AGREED WAS HOT WYM I CAN'T HAVE HIM??? well I'm still really happy about his arc over the series probably one of my favorite character growths.

Eli my guy got his growth spurt!!! As an 18 year old who is still 5'0", I'm happy but envious for him

So I went into this movie without watching any trailers or promo, but I doubt anything could have prepared me for the existence of mpreg. In fact, I wasn't going to document my reactions until I saw that.

NAMURA!!!!!!!!! MY BELOVED!!!!!! I CAN STILL THIRST FOR YOU WITHOUT GUILT

The coach teacher just called the kids zoomers so I have to dock one point from my final rating just because of that. Unforgivable

Those husky animation models suck lmao

Oh fuck the titans got power ranger zords!!

God why did they include the mpreg??? This movie would have been perfect without it.... After that plot point being revisited only one time I'm already beyond done with it

Like it's bringing me back to the v*ltron days where they're was a suspiciously high amount of klance omegaverse and mpreg fics and art created and it physically hurts because Steve and Keith's voice actor is the same person meaning this is especially cursed to me since I was unfortunately in the v*ltron fandom and remember all of that

But like on another note, how old are these characters again??? I haven't checked any wikis because of spoilers but is Steve an adult??? I know aja might be technically a lot older than 18 because alien but is whatever age she is equivalent to an adult as far as emotionally and physically in Akaridion development??? IS THIS A TEEN (M)PREGNANCY IN A KIDS SHOW????

Like bruh I saw a singular post on here before going into the movie that was like "rott spoilers without context" and there was a pregnant belly but I was absolutely not expecting the actual context of it. I'll find the post after I finish and edit this post to tag the creator right here: @makoden

This entire post is just gonna be me ranting about mpreg huh

Anyway I love the whole roundtable allusion to the legends of king arthur (not the toa version but the one he's based off)

THERE'S 3 TO 5 BABIES????? I need to take a break bruh this is just too much

Alright I've taken a 30 minute break got some food and did some things i love (decompressed by tactile stimming with some owl plushies and watched some videos on my favorite owl, Garu. He lives in Japan with his owner and is a domesticated eagle owl who basically just acts like a sky cat. If anyone else needs some eye bleach, here is their YouTube channel)

Blinky and ARRRGHHH!!! saying their "if one of us doesn't make it" talk my god one of them is going to die I can see it and I will be utterly crushed. Jim can't lose another father figure and Toby can't lose his wingman again I will riot if this happens

On a similar but unrelated to the movie note, can we just talk about how toa started with Jim having 0 dads and (if strickler and blinky live to the end) will end with 2 dads? Like I just really feel happy for him that he has two dads who actually figured out how to put the past behind them to not have any infighting between them so that both of them are healthy father figures. Jim has already been through literal hell and back losing his actual humanity in the process so if he loses one of them, I'm going to be really pissed because at this point, this is just Jim torture porn. Y'all know how as SpongeBob SquarePants went on, the show just became Squidward torture porn? It's starting to feel that way for toa and I really hope they cut the shit by the ending

Jlaire is such a good ship but like I feel like it's too perfect they never disagree with each other

YESSSSSSS Someone finally doesn't treat toby like a fat waste of space who messes stuff up!!! I think out of all the characters that would have been most deserving of a rewrite, it's Toby. Sometimes I just feel he's only comic relief and any heartfelt moments he's had in the series was also born of stupidity (ie his flour baby project being unharmed was seen by him as divine intervention from his parents but was actually just Eli and Steve behind the scenes).

Ohhhhh yesssssss Archie's father!!! I was hoping I'd see him again because we got so little of him last

Ooooooooooh Asian trollmarket!!!!!

Oh never mind slavery trollmarket

Bruh titanic camelot

I feel like we're not seeing enough of the villains because I completely forgot about the power ranger zord things

NAMORA NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MY LAST CRUSHHHH

STRICKLER NO NOT YOU TOO PLEASE

WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE ONLY TWO CHARACTERS I SIMP FOR ON THIS SHOW DIED WITHIN FIVE MINUTES OF EACH OTHER

THAT WHOLE ASS RANT I WROTE IS COMING TRUE FUCK THIS MOVIE THIS SERIES IS JUST JIM TORTURE PORN

WAIT JIM'S SPERM DONOR INFO?

Oh thank God I don't want to know anything about that person

For the record, I call that man Jim's sperm donor because he has no business being called a father to him. All he did was donate some swimmers to the creation of him and give him abandonment issues

Oh another blind troll elder???? This fucker is just if vendel was a bad guy

Bruh I was grieving

PACIFIC RIM WITH GUN ROBOT VEX AND THE BELROCZORD? I've never seen that movie but I know the reference

Bruh Blinky doesn't read horoscopes? Does he realize conspiracy theories are just the manly version of horoscopes?

NO DON'T KILL VEX STOP KO-ING FOUND FAMILY MEMBERS

Oh thank God he's okay

NO NOT ARCHIE AND CHARLEMAGNE OH MY GOD

oh never mind they're just gonna coup de tat I believe in them :))

But I want to see him again

But I'm glad to see vex

Yay they're in arcadia!

But yeah I wondered why the trolls and Merlin didn't keep the whole "daylight doesn't hurt trolls" feature from the eternal night but now Guillermo del Toro I see you were playing the long con in that just to kill my girl Namora :(((

Oooooh I love the animation of the Narizord over Chihuahua!! It looks very good and realistic (if only they could have put some of that into those huskies from before smh)

Bruh the character designs of the arcane order are so good I want to be them

Nari making sure the Skraelzord doesn't crush the bus

DAMN DOUBLE HOMICIDE

Bruh I'm just glad we finally have an answer on why arcadia had everything going on as opposed to literally anywhere else!! I always found that as a weird coincidence for plot convince.

BRUH WERE BACK TO THE MPREG IM SO JEALOUS I FORGOT ABOUT THAT EVEN THOUGH IT WAS BECAUSE I WAS GRIEVING THE LOSS OF MY LOVELIES.

Oh that's real convenient that the ninth configuration meant all of them. Way to not decide which character gets more attention. Though it probably was a smart way to not have any infighting in the fandom between each character's stan group.

Bruh I just realized where is Barbera did they just ditch her on the Camelot ship???

And where are the other trolls that migrated at the end of trollhunters s3? They said something about new jersey but obviously Jim and the other main characters got on Camelot instead.... This feels like a plot hole

And we never learned the process of how changelings are made and bonded to humans and stuff. We just know it's super painful but I'm curious ffs!!!!

THE DONT THINK BECOME HERO SPEECH ALL SAID TOGETHER!!!

BRUH THEY REALLY HAD TO SHOW HIM GIVING BIRTH??????? WAS THAT AN ABSOLUTE MUST??????

Plus the main audience for this series is little children (the rating for the movie is literally TV-Y7) so even though my adult ass is not in the target audience, I STILL DONT UNDERSTAND WHY WOULD MPREG AND ANAL BIRTH WOULD BE AN IMPORTANT THING TO 7 YEAR OLDS???? THIS IS A LITERAL FETISH HIDDEN IN KIDS CONTENT ITS ELSAGATE ALL OVER AGAIN Y'ALL 😭😭😭😭😭

Though it's probably hypocritical of me to think fetishes don't belong in kids tv when I've openly admitted to thirsting for strickler and namora

HUZZAH

NEW AMULET WAZ GOOD????

STAB THAT BITCH JIM

WAIT NO I SAID STAB NOT GET STABBED

Alright good job just missed the directions at first but you fixed it

SEVEN KIDS?????????

T O B Y ????????????

W A I T NO

N O

IS HE ACTUALLY

OH MY GOD THERE'S HOPE

NO THERE ISN'T

F U C K THIS SHIT THEY REALLY JUST HAD HIM TO BE BULLIED THEN KILLED

Y'ALL IM ACTUALLY CRYING THIS NEVER HAPPENS

I NEVER ACTUALLY GET SO EMOTIONAL OVER MEDIA THAT I CRY IT ONLY HAPPENED ONCE AT THE END OF VOLTRON BUT AHHHHHHHH

W A I T

HE'S GONNA BE BROUGHT BACK?????

HOLD UP THEY'RE JUST GONNA BRING ALL THOSE DEAD PEOPLE BACK??????

WAIT IS HE

BLINKY CALLED HIM A SON

HOLD ON IS THIS GOING TO BE A CLIFFHANGER???????????

BRUH THEY REALLY JUST CAN'T END THE SERIES WITHOUT CLIFFHANGERS like there's always an open ending

TROLLHUNTER TOBY????? You know what forget the whole rants I had on how toby was written they just redeemed it all

And that's all! I'd rate it a 6.5/10 because it's definitely the weakest of all the sequels but still had amazing animation and some good plot points. It's just really hard to look over the bad stuff enough to rate it any higher.

#tales of arcadia #rise of the titans #trollhunters #rott #rise of the titans spoilers #rott spoilers #toa #3 below #athena's own original post!#jim lake jr #claire nuñez #toby domzalski

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skyland2703 · 2 years

Note

Hallooo!😂

Can you make a mini fic about Javi accidentally calling Amelia 'BabyBoo' in front of their friends?😂🖤💖

HALLOOOO!!! This is abso-fucking-lutely canon, btw; so let’s dive in!

“Whatcha doin?” Amelia asked Javi, nibbling on his ear while he worked on his newest song, and he turned to catch her lips in a soft kiss, humming into her lips, her smiling against his, before parting, and she leaned against his shoulder, looking into his song diary.

“Mmm lyrics, baby boo” the nickname had been cheesy, but she loved it, for obvious reasons. To be fair, she called him her ‘keytar’ so as far as cheesy nicknames went, kaytar was all the more ridiculous.

“Stuck?”

“Have been for almost an entire day” he sighed, “I need more words for river! Poetic words words that sound nice… and groovy.” He groaned, leaning back, when they suddenly heard a chuckle, that jerked the two of them apart, as if struck with an electric shock, and stared at Izzy, who had just teleported into the command centre.

Because you see, they hadn’t told their friends that they were together.

“Bro, there’s so many words, use a thesaurus?” She said, joining Amelia and Javi, “brook, stream, tributary, rivulet….”

“And how many of them sound poetic hmm?” He wrinkled his eyebrows, “I’m thinking I should remove the entire thing with the river and put something else instead”

“I’m sure you’ll find something! Use words from some other language if this doesn’t work?? Or maybe a lake? Or ocean?” Amelia suggested, when Zayto, Aiyon and Ollie also happened to teleport by.

“Y’all coming for lunch?” Ollie asked, joining Izzy, Amelia and Javi at the desk, and the three turned to the blue ranger, “sounds good” Izzy nodded, Amelia and Javi also agreed, all of them leaving, but Javi, just as he got up, a lyric struck him, and he hunched over the book again, scribbling as the rest of them started to leave. He needed to write it before he’d forget it, and heard Amelia call out, “you coming Javi?”

Annnnd without even thinking twice, he called out, “m coming, baby boo”

And the entire team backtracked into the command centre, while Javi still continued to scribble, oblivious, and Amelia, frozen on spot was starting to develop an intense blush.

“BABY… BOO?” Izzy asked, inching awfully close to Javi, while Ollie did the same to Amelia, both of them with the exact same expression as they eyed the couple.

“Hmm” Javi was still oblivious to what he’d said, while Amelia was almost a puddle on the floor now, while Zayto and Aiyon just looked around in confusion.

“How long has this been going on, my dearest brother” Izzy had a mixture of ‘I’m-going-to-kill-him-for-hiding-this-from-me’ and ‘I-need-to-tease-him-till-he-is-also-the-same-puddle-as-Amelia’ expressions. He finally finished scribbling, and turned to face her, “what’s been going on?”

“You and Amelia” Ollie wiggled his eyebrows, mischievously, grinning at them, and Javi looked confused, and then finally understood, blushing, “what did… did I say something stupid?”

“I think baby boo definitely counts as stupid” Ollie laughed.

“Take that back,” Amelia retorted, fiercely defending her boyfriend, “and it’s it’s better than honey muffin anyway”

“I—“ Javi’s ears were all red now, along with his cheeks, “I didn’t mean—“

“AHHHAAA!” Izzy cried, “so you two ARE dating!”

Amelia and Javi had the exact same expression after that observation, blushing into a puddle on the floor.

“And can we ask what’s Amelia’s nickname for Javi?” Izzy and Ollie asked, together, and the reply sent the two of them doubling over in laughter once again….

#power rangers #Javi Garcia #Amelia Jones #javi x amelia #MINIFIC #power rangers dino fury #Dino fury #power rangers FanFiction

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midnightsconspiracy · 3 years

Text

Public Opinion

Public Opinion - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: Being a public defender made you rather unpopular, especially with your new boyfriend's co-workers

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1443

Requested: Yes!!

‘This might be a bit random but I was thinking one for Mouse where the reader is like a successful, powerful lawyer and is secretly dating mouse, but when the team finds out they judge her until they meet her? Sorry if it’s too specific I’m in love with your fics.’

A/N: I am on a creative roll tonight! 4 fics in one night!!! Requests are still open

Masterlist

When you had met Mouse you knew things might be have been a little rocky, considering your jobs were notorious for hating each other, you working as a public defender and him working within the police force. But that had not stopped the both of you from entering a relationship, deciding that it didn’t bother you, both loving what you did and each other, neither wanting to compromise. You had met him at a Rangers reunion, your brother having served alongside Mouse in Afghanistan. You two had instantly hit it off, both keeping each other company, having your original partners blow you off. He had told you of his friend Jay, who he’d originally meant to have gone with, but being abandoned last minutes for his girlfriend instead. That had worked out in both of your favours, allowing you to have the time of your life, talking for hours getting buzzed whilst drinking the free drinks the event offered. After that night you had lost contact for a couple of months before he reached out asking you to go on a date. You were sceptical at first, why was he just reaching out now and not in the three months he’d had your number? But you had said yes anyway, remembering how good you had felt when you were with him.

That evening he had told you how he was meaning to call but had been going through some stuff at work that kept him from doing so. The date had bought back memories of how much you enjoyed spending time with Mouse, eventually leading to more and more dates each month, until finally, you started formally dating. Mouse was not the easiest boyfriend, having problems with his PTSD and anxiety, but that didn’t make him any less loveable in your eyes, in fact, it made him more so. It bought you both closer together, he relied on the fact that you were willing to help him, encouraging him to seek help each time he felt as though he was spiralling out of control. After six months of seeing you, he already felt as though he was a better person, he had started therapy to help deal with his trauma caused by the Rangers, going out to socialise with his friends more and was just generally happier with his daily life. The one thing he didn’t understand though is why you chose to become a public defender. You knew it was his police and military background talking, but it didn’t bother you too much knowing not many people understood why you did what you did, being a public defender, and a good one, was an extremely controversial job. Explaining to him that you liked to help the underdog, he stared at you like you were mad, as you realised he would never understand why. Once you had felt as though you trusted him enough, you decided that you wanted to meet the other important people in his life, his co-workers. You finally wanted to meet the notorious Jay Halstead, the one he had told you so much about on that faithful day. But he had been hesitant when you bought the topic up, knowing how they had reacted when he had told them originally.

The team had noticed a difference in Mouse, being much happier, even being more talkative than usual. They had questioned him extensively, wanting to get to bottom of what or who was causing Mouse to act differently. Whilst at Molly’s, he had decided to reveal all over a couple of beers, informing the team that he had met a girl a couple of months ago, and had only recently become official with her. The team had been happy at first, congratulating him on finding someone, despite his traumatic past and the consequences of that. But things had turned sour when then had pried more on who this mysterious person was. He’d told them that you were a public defender, and they might have known who you were considering you had defended some high profile criminals that they had worked on. That had changed things dramatically, all of them knowing exactly who you were, disliking you over the fact you had gotten off or lessened the sentence of people who had done awful things and they had spent a long time trying to find. Jay's reaction had been the harshest blow to Mouse, being his best friend, he just wanting the man's approval. This recent disapproval of your relationship made Mouse really question what he wanted, you or Jay? Determined that he wanted to keep both of you, he devised a plan, maybe if Jay met you, he would change his opinion on you. So he decided that he would bring you along to when they would next all meet up at the infamous bar.

Mouse had been telling you for the past week that you two were going out on Friday evening to meet his friends, so you were excited, not knowing what had happened with him and his co-workers last time they had drunk there. Getting ready, you put on a nice outfit, waiting for Mouse to be ready so you could finally leave. A few minutes past and Mouse still had not emerged from the bedroom, despite seemingly already being ready as you were getting changed. Walking into the bedroom you found him on the bed, head in his hands, silent and unwavering. Calling his name out, he looked up, giving you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, walking towards you to plant a slight kiss on your forehead. Asking if he was ok, he shrugged it off, giving you a small ‘yes’, proceeding to walk out of the room to grab his keys and wallet. The car ride over was silent, as tension filled the air, a tension that you didn’t understand. Walking into the bar and over to the booth, Mouse introduced you nervously, bringing down your excitement a couple of notches in the process due to his strange disposition. Following your boyfriend, you greeted everyone, noticing all of the grim faces staring back at you. The first to speak up was Jay, introducing himself with an awkward smile, the table falling into silence afterwards. You knew something was off but that didn’t stop you from being your normal, kind self.

“Mouse talks very highly of you all, I especially appreciate all the work you guys do,” you said, trying to create conversation to cut the tension.

“Yeah, sure you do,” Jay sarcastically commented, verbally disagreeing with your line of work

“I know you guys don’t like the work I do, but I have a reason for it, just as you have yours for becoming police officers.” Trying to reason with them was going to be hard, having gone in a totally opposite direction career-wise to them, having a fixed outlook on your job. But you were determined, loving Mouse so much that you would fight as hard as you could to be in their good books.

“It's not the same though, we catch criminals, you release them.” Adam piped up, adding more fuel to the fire of hatred, directed towards you.

“Maybe we should leave,” Mouse said, knowing you were probably extremely uncomfortable with the situation.

“No,” you replied, wanting to stand your ground and explain yourself to these people.

“I do it because no one else is routing for the underdog, they’re thrown into the system and spit out into a life of more crime. I help them have a chance at life, a chance of justice, even if sometimes they don’t deserve it.” Raising your voice, you started getting angry, these people weren’t even giving you a chance, not only hurting yourself but also Mouse in the process.

“Ok.” Jay followed up.

“Plus you should be happy for your friend that he’s happy and found someone that he likes, not hating on me and trying to sabotage this relationship-” you exclaimed, pissed at the fact his friends would do this to him.

“I like you.” Jay butted in. Confusion bounded onto your face at the sudden expression of fondness. Why had they changed their minds so quickly? The conversation continued as normal as if that argument had never even happened, not only chatting as usual but including you in them as well. Little did you know your outburst had changed his mind completely, deciding that maybe you weren’t so bad, that your fiery self would stand up for you and Mouse no matter what, and that was just what he needed. So maybe you were good for Mouse after all.

----------

Want to join my taglist? Click Here

#chicago pd #chicago pd imagines #chicago pd x reader #one chicago #greg gerwitz #greg gerwitz x reader #greg gerwitz imagines #greg mouse gerwitz

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caffeineinducedbeing · 3 years

Text

Christmas countdown day 5!! (sry i missed yesterday, but i posted an actual fic yesterday so i was tired of writing at that point)

enjoy!💚

*************************************

Will heard the person trudging through the snow, before he heard them pound on his door. He stood up hurriedly, the footsteps sounded like they were dragging, leading him to believe that this person is either wounded, or very tired.

He flung open the door, with his saxe knife at the ready. To face Horace's pale face, with his right hand raised, reading to knock, and his left wrapped around his torso.

No words were spoken for a minute, they both just stared at each other. Until Horace said, rather bluntly.

"I am in pain."

Will raised an eyebrow,

"Do you mean emotional pain or- Oh God! That's a lot of blood!"

Horace moved his hand back to put pressure on the wound in his side, he frowned and pursed his lips,

"Pain. Yes."

Will stood aside and let Horace walk himself inside, collapsing on the couch. While the ranger rummaged through his medicine cabinet, pulling out bandages, and pain salve to dress the wound. Will knew it wasn't super deep. He had noticed that, after the initial shock of how much blood seemed to coat it.

But it always seemed to be the shallow cuts that bled the most.

"I take it that bandit hunt went wrong?" Will finally broke the silence in the cabin to ask.

Horace took a deep breath and removed his mail shirt, and under layers to let Will clean the gash properly.

"Well no, actually it went quite well. We had caught them all, and cuffed them. We just weren't aware that one of them had a knife hidden in his sock, so when I turned my back on him..."

He was silent after that, knowing that Will got the message when he nodded several times.

Horace looked away, holding back a wince as Will cleaned the gash with alcohol, it stung like the devil, but he knew that was a good thing.

"So anyways, I just figured you were closer than castle Redmont, and I didn't want to deal with all those critical, over-dramatic healers"

Will snorted a laugh as he started applying the salve,

"The one time you visit Redmont and you get injured."

Horace took on an offended look.

"What, this? This, is not an injury. This is a papercut, I'll be fine."

Will smirked as he pressed a little harder than he had to into the wound, drawing out a pained groan from Horace.

"Right. You're fine." he ignored Horace's glare and continued talking,

"Well I assume you'll wanna stay here tonight, giving that it's about ten o'clock." He took Horace's meek nod as a Yes.

"Well then you can have the spare bedroom. Then we'll go to Jenny's for breakfast in the morning, since I probably don't have enough food to satisfy your appetite anyway."

Horace smiled at that, "Sounds good! I should crash at your place more often, huh? If I get treatment like this?"

Will turned to face him,

"I could've sent you to the healers, remember that. Night." He ended the conversation abruptly as he shut his bedroom door.

Horace stared at it for a minute in deep thought,

"Night."

And he shut the door.

#rangers apprentice #ranger's apprentice #fanfiction #rangers apprentice fanfiction #cross posted on ao3 #Christmas countdown fanfic challenge #CCFC #will treaty #horace altman

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enamoured-x · 4 years

Text

Long Enough

Luke Alvez x Reader

Summary: You and Luke share an intimate moment.

Word count: 2.8k

a/n: my first Luke fic bc I miss criminal minds and my rewatch had me missing him like crazy. Enjoy!

*Not my gif

As a member of the BAU for five years, you Penelope, JJ, Tara and Emily had grown extremely close over the years. Always having girls night whenever you could squeeze in time between cases. Currently though, girls night had turned into a team night when Rossi overheard you all talking about going to the bar. He of course invited himself which in turn led to him pressuring Spencer to join and then telling Luke to tag along as well. Matt had his kids to go home to so he decided on a rain check but suddenly, your girls night was nonexistent. You weren’t actually upset about it, although you did love talking to the girls about things you didn’t feel comfortable talking about in front of the guys. What you were concerned about was the fact that Luke was coming. He joined the BAU two years ago and somehow you had developed a small crush on the former ranger. He was incredibly sweet and always knew how to make you smile. But you two were closer to best friends than being anything more. You hung out with him all the time, going for runs with him and Roxy in the mornings occasionally or having dinner at his place or yours. Honestly, you two were glued to the hip. Even though you spent days together while working on cases you would both still make plans to hang out. Even crashing at each other’s place for no other reason than not wanting the night to end but not wanting to go home around two in the morning. All of this being the reason why you didn’t want him to know about your feelings for him. You two had something good going and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin it. Some days you thought he already knew with the way you two flirted. But it was all in good fun, it never meant anything, at least not to him.

Which was why you still wished it stayed a girl’s night. Your girls knew all about your predicament, not from your mouth though, apparently you weren’t as sneaky as you thought you were being. They caught on real quick which then began the constant conversations about Luke and what you should do. The girls were all for you telling him, they even had it in their heads that he felt the same but you didn't know if you were willing to take that risk. Willing to risk your friendship and your comfortable work environment.

You had arrived at the bar with Tara, both of you living within a few minutes of each other made it so you two would car pool a lot. Surprisingly the team was already there, gathered around a standing table.

“They you guys are!” Penelope shouted as you two walked over to the table. Your eyes met Luke and you couldn’t help but smile as he flashed you that big grin of his. Pulling you into him as you got to the table, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“You look great.” He said into your ear, the rest of the team continuing their conversation.

“Thank you, I guess you look alright too.” He barked out a laugh. He didn’t just look alright, he looked delicious. He was wearing an off-white button up with his dark blue jeans and black boots. It was what he usually wore except the soft colored shirt really brought out his tan skin.

“Whatever, I know I look good.” He said and then grabbed a glass on the table and handed it to you, “old fashioned for you.” Your heart warmed at the gesture. You don’t know why you were all that surprised, Luke ordered for you all the time.

“Thank you.” You caught JJ smirking at you and you quickly took a sip of your drink to calm your nerves. You’ve hunted down serial killers but the second your feelings come into question you get scared, unbelievable.

You all slipped into conversation around the table as the night went on.

“Tell them what really happened!” Emily urged you to tell your part of the story of when you decided to go visit her in London. It involved a night out with a rowdy Emily at some bar.

“Emily took it upon herself to start speaking in a British accent after a few drinks.” Emily groaned thinking you were going to defend her actions as you giggled. The table laughed. Luke kept a hand on your waist throughout your whole retelling and when you were about to excuse yourself to get another drink he offered to do it for you.

“I got it.” He said but before he could leave everyone else placed their drink order with him for another round. He groaned and you laughed.

“I’ll go with you.” You said and followed him to the bar. Not before sparing a glance behind you, the whole team eyeing you both and your face flushed as even Spencer and Rossi gave you knowing looks. Jesus, if they knew then Luke had to know. Although Penelope was quick to tell you in the past that Luke might be a profiler but he was still a man therefore he was more than likely clueless about your feelings for him. You held onto that notion as you two came up to the bar. Luke tried to get the bartender’s attention but he was talking to some other people at the other end of the bar. He turned to you, “hold on.” He said before walking his way over to the man. You stayed where you were and before you could look back to see if the team was still watching you, a man took the place right next to you, leaning against the bar as he faced you.

“Hey gorgeous, can I buy you a drink?” He asked, usually you’d admire his dirty blonde hair and his dimples but the only thing on your mind lately was curly brown hair and the most beautiful brown eyes you’d ever seen. You had it bad.

“I’m good. Thanks though.” You said, looking over to where Luke was, finally having got the bartender’s attention.

“Oh come on, just one drink. I just thought you looked really nice in those jeans–” His hand skimmed your thigh and you slapped it away, shocked by the action.

“Do not fucking touch me.” Before you could say anything else, Luke put himself between you and the creep.

“Back the fuck off right now.” Luke told the man. He didn’t look all that bothered as he stood up straight and laughed at Luke. You moved yourself to stand at his side and spared a glance at him. His face tilted up to look down on the man and the harsh glare in his eyes was evidence enough that he was pissed off.

“Chill out, man. Just wanted to have some fun with the pretty lady.” He took his eyes off Luke to look over at you, his gaze made your skin crawl and as if Luke could sense that, he stepped in front of you again and tilted his head to meet the guys eyes again. You were used to creeps who wouldn’t take no for an answer, you were used to having to tell them off and you were obviously more than capable of handling yourself, but something about the way Luke had no problem coming to your defense had you feeling grateful. Maybe even a little refreshing, it was tiring dealing with these kind of men but Luke had no problem with that job.

“She said no, get lost.” Luke demanded. His shoulders were tense and you knew this guy was getting on his nerves for the sole reason that he couldn’t just take no for an answer, he just had to play this game. You grabbed Luke’s arm as you saw the bartender place your drink order in front you both, trying to just get him to ignore the stranger.

“Think I could change her mind.” The guy shrugged and tried to look around him. You pulled at Luke’s arm as he tried to get in the strangers face, “are you fucking serious right now?”

“Okay, let’s calm down.” Rossi’s voice broke the two men’s stare down as he walked up to you three.

“Who the hell are you?” The guy asked. Rossi pulled out his credentials.

“Get lost.” Rossi told him and the douche scurried away as soon as he saw the ID.

“Let’s try not to start a fight on our night off.” Rossi teased as he grabbed the tray of drinks and walked back over to the table. They were all watching you two and you groaned.

“You good?” Luke asked, ignoring the team’s watchful eyes.

“Yeah, you know I don’t need saving, Alvez. I thought you figured that out the other day when I pinned you to the mat at the gym.” You teased him, wanting him to calm down. You knew Luke to be fiercely loyal and extremely protective so him wanting to come to your defense was simply because of that protective nature in him. You admired it.

“Oh how could I forget you on top of me?” He smirked and you hit his arm playfully.

“Shut up, Alvez. Let’s get back to the table.” He laughed as you two made your way back.

“Well, well, well, if you weren’t our girls night and shining armor. Although she doesn’t need one because she can be a badass all on her own and she does not need a man to save her and she clearly could have handled it all on her own.” Penelope smirked at you two and you shook your head as she rambled.

“She does not but doesn’t mean I won’t still try and protect her.” Oh god, your face burned as the others smiled at his sweet words. Emily and Tara shared a knowing look with you. Maybe he did share your feelings after all…

“Anyways,” you said, trying to get the conversation off you two. Eventually they let up and you all slipped into conversation again. Luke kept his arm around your waist and the drinks in your system had you feeling bold enough to place your hand over his where it was resting on your hip. He looked down at you with the action and smiled before placing a kiss to your forehead and then casually kept his conversation with Spencer going. Your heart pounded at the gesture. It was all so intimate, the hand on the waist, his side pressed to yours, the kiss. You were sure to anyone looking over that you two looked like a couple, because friends definitely didn't act like this. JJ was to your right and smiled at you two.

“I think we were right.” She whispered to you and you rolled your eyes.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” You warned her. She shrugged but she still held a small smile.

Eventually everyone started leaving one by one, even Tara who decided to hitch a ride with JJ seeing as you weren’t ready to leave yet. Eventually it was just you and Luke. As always.

You were eyeing a group of people who had just walked in and overheard them talking about the club next door.

“What are you thinking about?” Luke asked as he finished his beer.

“I’m thinking we should check out the place next door, I feel like dancing.” You shrugged and his brows raised.

“Well, let’s go.” He ushered you out having closed the tab right after you two got your last drinks. You were not all that surprised at his eagerness, Luke was always down for anything. He grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers with his. You couldn’t contain your giggles as you two made your way inside the dark night club, such a drastic change from the laid back bar you were just at.

“Come on.” He said, dragging you to the bar and getting you two more drinks. The crowded and loud atmosphere meant you and Luke were glued together as you both drank and exchanged words. You were practically hugging him at this point with how close you two were but he didn’t seem to mind as his whole arm wrapped around your waist. You definitely weren’t complaining. You two quickly finished your drinks, the cups being filled with mostly ice.

“Come on, you said you wanted to dance.” He pulled you to the dance floor and you two immediately started singing along to the song as he grabbed your hands and danced with you. His smile never left his face and your heart warmed at seeing it. It was one of his most redeeming qualities. A smile that could put you in a good mood no matter what, a smile that could also become something darker with a bit more curl to his lips. You two grabbed onto each other with each song that passed and before you knew what you were doing, you turned around in his hold. You didn’t have to worry about how he would feel with you pressed against him because he eagerly assumed back control and grabbed onto your hips and pressed his body into yours. Your senses were on fire, the feel of all of him pressed against your back, his warm breath at the shell of your ear, it was all consuming, even the music and crowd of people couldn’t pull you away from this moment.

“Is this okay?” He breathed in your ear, just loud enough for you to make out. You tilted your head to the side and he placed a kiss on your neck. Your breath hitched.

“More than okay.” Is all you said before you two started moving again. Luke’s body pressed fully against your back had your heart beating like crazy. You were sure you’d be more shy if you didn’t have a few drinks in you already but the alcohol was doing wonders for you.

You grinded against Luke as your hips rolled together, his hands digging tighter into your waist. You smiled and felt even more emboldened, so you slipped your hand behind you and grabbed onto the back of his neck while holding onto his arm with your other hand. He nuzzled his face into your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his facial hair tickled your skin. Never had you two been this close before, you wanted to blame the alcohol but you and Luke didn’t have more than a few drinks each. No, this was happening of your own volition. And he was participating fully as well.

Luke pressed his cheek against yours, allowing you to feel his stubble against your skin. You turned your head to meet his eyes and you felt a rush go through your body at how close you two were, noses touching now. You two had stopped moving, now too caught up in the moment you two seemed to be frozen in. His breath fanned your lips and his cologne invaded your senses, making your head cloudy with everything that was Luke Alvez.

“Just kiss me already, Alvez.” You said, tired of the waiting, tired of pinning after your best friend when it had been made clear tonight your feelings were definitely not one sided. He smiled and next thing you knew his lips were pressed against yours. The ache for him settled within you as his lips moved against yours, as his tongue found its way in your mouth. You moaned into his as you felt everything else in the room fade away, just you two and a kiss that was going to change everything.

You finally pulled away to breathe. Luke nudged your nose with his causing you to smile.

“Been wanting to do that for a while now.” He said, he then motioned towards the door and he wrapped his arm around your waist as he led you out. Once outside, the cold air nipped at your skin and you reveled in it. The crowded club was not the only thing that had your skin on fire, Luke’s hands and his gaze was doing that just fine.

“A while, huh?” You smirked and pulled him against the brick wall, your back now pressed to it, the cold stone calming you done from the heated kiss you just shared.

“Since I met you.” He placed one hand on your hip and one against the brick right by your head. His smile was making you flush as it was directed solely at you, and those eyes… a mischievous glint in them.

“Took you long enough.” You said, placing your hands at his neck, “now maybe we should make up for lost time…” You trailed off as he raised a brow and smirked as you pulled him to you.

“We should probably get started,” he said against your lips as you two kissed through your smiles, “two years is a long time.” He added, making you giggle into the kiss.

“Then take me home, Alvez.” With those words, he was pulling you to his car.

Luke was definitely worth the wait.

#luke alvez #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x you #luke alvez imagine #criminal minds

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hermannsthumb · 4 years

Note

Lo and behold, HERMANN is the one with a long list of hunky ex-boyfriends (and it drives Newt a little nuts)

a req sent in by @k-sci-janitor and filled TIMELY ENOUGH on their BIRTHDAYYYYY 🎉🎉🎉🎉 s/out to them for discussing this fic concept w me months ago and also today 👀

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It’s a relief to find out Hermann is gay. It’s not even because of Newt’s weird, repressed feelings for the guy—though he admits it’s equally a relief to know that he’s not barking up the wrong tree entirely. The thing is that Newt’s really not sure what he would do if Hermann wasn’t. Hermann has the distinct honor (displeasure?) of being Newt’s only friend in the Shatterdome, after all; this means aside from usual friendship duties (sitting with Newt at lunch, listening to him complain about his day, allowing himself to be dragged along to bars and movie theaters when they finally have a second to breathe), he’s also the person Newt goes to with tales of his romantic conquests (not that he has any), requests for dating advice (not that Hermann has any), and reassurances that whoever Newt has his eyes on that week is hot enough for him (could they ever be?). It’s just, like, easier to do that kinda shit with someone who would also be (hypothetically) eyeing up and dating dudes, if Hermann ever managed to take the stick out his ass and relax long enough to do stuff like that.

Hell, Newt would be first in line if he ever did. As it is, he just has to settle on knocking knees with Hermann under the mess tables and—for lack of a better phrase—checking the latest batch of ranger hopefuls out. Newt doesn’t normally go for the tall, built, and athletic type, but Shatterdome transfers are usually the only way he can score a date, because all the seasoned personnel know to avoid the weirdo biologist in the basement by this point. There’s a war on; desperate times call for desperate measures. Newt hopes at least a handful of them are desperate.

“He’s kinda hot, don’t you think?” Newt says under his breath to Hermann. He jerks his thumb over his shoulder at one of the new ranger trainees in line for soup behind them. He has dark hair and a nice smile, and—more importantly—Newt’s sure he’s been making eyes at their table for the better part of five minutes. He’s one of the latest batch that has only just arrived two weeks prior, and the smallest batch by far. Not many people are enlisting in the PPDC these days. Bad for the state of the world and Newt’s libido.

“Hm?” Hermann says.

“The guy behind us,” Newt says. “No, don’t be obvious about it—”

But Hermann turns, conspicuously, so (deciding it can’t get any more awkward than it already is) Newt sighs and turns with him. The dark-haired ranger notices: his smile hitches up an extra centimeter, and he winks.

At once Newt feels his ego swell. He winks back. “Still got it, dude,” he crows to Hermann, and is just rising from his chair to swoop into action when he realizes something; the ranger was not making eye contact with Newt. He was—and is—making eye contact with Hermann.

Hermann scoffs. “Oh, please,” he mutters to Newt. “If he thinks that’ll get him invited over again—”

But the ranger is abandoning his spot in line and jogging towards them, smoothing down his hair as he goes. He’s brimming with a palpable mixture of excitement and anxiety. “Hey, Dr. Gottlieb,” he says. “So, uh, last week was pretty fun?” It’s an invitation for approval, one which Hermann ignores in favor of jerking his shoulders noncommittally. The ranger presses on anyway. “It’s cool to see you. Haha. I, uh, just wanted to make sure you have my email, in case you want to get together again.”

“I have it,” Hermann says.

An awkward tension settles between them. Newt clears his throat in hopes of diffusing it, and the ranger’s eyes dart over to him. “I’m Newt,” Newt says. “Hermann and I work together.”

“Cool,” the ranger says. Disinterested. “Anyway, Dr. Gottlieb, I’m free whenever, so?”

“Yes, I’ll certainly email you,” Hermann says. He picks up his dinner roll and begins to spread butter over it, not bothering to look up when he adds “Lovely to see you again.”

The guy nods, and hurries back over to his friends, who begin debating something with him in hushed voices. Twice the group glances back at Hermann. Hermann’s—uh—friend seems to be blushing. Hermann begins to butter the other half of his dinner roll. “What the hell was that about?” Newt says.

Hermann sets down his roll and furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“That,” Newt says. “Who was that guy?”

“Oh,” Hermann says. “Him.” He rolls his eyes, and to Newt’s alarm goes pink in the cheeks. “We had a, ah, a date, I suppose you could call it, last week. He turned out to be a bit rude, actually, not the very, er, courteous sort. Attentive. Or at least not as courteous as I like. You know.”

“I don’t,” Newt says.

“You know,” Hermann repeats, with more force on the know. His pink blush spreads down his neck. “In the—coupling—sense.”

“You hooked up with him?” Newt says, too loud. A few heads swivel in their direction, including Hermann’s quote-unquote date and his friends; Hermann whacks Newt in the shin with his cane, clearly mortified.

“Keep your voice down! I don’t want the whole bloody Shatterdome to know, do I?” Hermann hisses. “Yes, I had sex with him. I do occasionally take time to enjoy myself.”

Newt stares at Hermann in amazement. Hermann hooks up? Hermann hooks up with hunky guys? Hermann hooks up with hunky guys and then ghosts them? “I didn’t know,” Newt says. “That you…did that.” Months and months of talking about his shitty love life to Hermann and Hermann has never once bothered to volunteer information of his own. Newt always just assumed Hermann had put his emotional (and physical) needs on hold for the sake of the war. Apparently not.

“You never asked,” Hermann says. “Is it important?”

Yes, it is. Newt shakes his head. The rest of their dinner is quiet and without any further interruptions. It’s also without their usual bickering, though, which makes it feel oddly lonely, and when Newt gets back to his bunk that night, he can’t help but wonder what else he hasn’t discovered about Hermann yet. Or, really—what about Hermann’s love life he hasn’t discovered yet.

A bouquet of flowers arrives for Hermann at the lab a week later. Newt is the one to take the delivery, Hermann being too absorbed in his calculations and boring graphs, and also because Newt is harboring a secret hope they’re for himself from a secret admirer. No such luck. To Dr. Gottlieb, the heart-shaped label proclaims in pink cursive, and a few sentences of the sappiest attempt at poetry Newt’s ever seen follows. Love, Pedro. Newt smirks through a suffocating wave of jealousy, whether to be the one giving or getting the flowers he’s not sure. “Hey, Hermann,” he calls across the lab. “Your boyfriend getting persistent. Want me to stick these in water for you?”

Hermann grumbles something, then says “Boyfriend?”

“From the mess the other night,” Newt says. “The uncourteous one.” Newt double-checks the note. “Pedro. His heart is yearning for you, Hermann. Listen to this—”

But Hermann scoffs loudly before Newt can even start on the poem. “Don’t be daft,” he says. “That wasn’t Pedro. That was Jason.” He scribbles over something on his chalkboard and starts again on the line below it. “And Pedro is hardly my boyfriend—it was only dinner.”

“Dinner?” Newt squeaks.

“And drinks,” Hermann says.

“You’re seeing another guy?” Newt says.

Hermann finally turns around. “Does it matter if I am?” he says.

“Yes,” Newt says. “No? I don’t know?”

“I’m a grown man, Newton,” Hermann says. “I date. You ought to try it yourself—it does wonders for the nerves.” When Newt is clearly still unsatisfied, Hermann sighs. “I met Pedro on an errand to LOCCENT last month, and I found him charming. You’d recognize him—you actually, er, caught us in a bit of a compromising position the other night. Remember?”

Newt frowns. He hasn’t caught Hermann with anyway in any compromising situations recently—the only thing he can think of that could be considered remotely embarrassing is when he stepped out into the hallway the same time Hermann’s physical therapist did, and they ended up bumping into each other. But that was—oh, God, Newt’s an idiot. “That was him?” Newt says. He just assumed anyone stopping by Hermann’s room after work hours would be there for physical therapy, okay? And there had been a lot of…noise. Well, he’s not going to think about that now. “But he was so hot! Do you only date, like, hunks or something?”

“Really, Newton,” Hermann says. “You’re making yourself upset over nothing.” The corner of his mouth twitches up. “Though one of my old ex-boyfriends did become an underwear model…”

“Dude,” Newt says, and before he can help himself, blurts out “Shit, maybe I should start going to the gym.”

Hermann gives him a strange, searching look, and Newt immediately clamps his mouth shut in horror. He’s really gotta start working on his brain-to-mouth filter. Or at least work on not sticking his fucking foot in it every five minutes. “As I said,” Hermann says, cryptically, and turns away (apparently satisfied with whatever he saw in Newt), “you’re making yourself upset over nothing. I hardly find the need to limit myself to ‘hunks’.”

“Uh,” Newt says. “Right.”

Whatever that means.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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justmypartner · 3 years

Text

Make it Work: Chapter 5

Summary: When offered a permanent position with the FBI, Hailey agrees to take it under one condition: Jay comes too. As their personal lives and work lives begin to change, the two partners find it increasingly difficult to navigate their complex relationship and manage their feelings for one another.

Writer’s Note: I want to first apologize for taking so long to update this fic. I took a break to finish up school related things, and then when I came back to writing I was feeling very uninspired with this chapter. Nevertheless, I pushed through and what I thought was going to be a bland filler chapter ended up being a really fun chapter to write. Starting today, I am back to posting chapters weekly! Please enjoy & I want to thank everyone who has read/supported this fic. As LaRoyce always says: From the heart ❤️

TW:// mentions of PTSD

Tagging: @angelsjedi , @brookerz122493 , @cpdfan2014 , @the–carousel , @maya-asturias , @itsdesiree86 , @tvshowsaremyhappyplace

Read on AO3 or below

It had been two weeks since their first day at the FBI, and Jay and Hailey had finally found a comfortable rhythm. For Jay, it took a while to get used to solely being a field agent. Part of him missed digging for intel themselves. He missed the long nights in the wire room and the early mornings organizing the case board, but the fieldwork mostly made up for that part of the job he missed. He loved being out on the streets, and in his eyes, nothing could beat the satisfaction of finally putting the offenders in cuffs.

The team was still rolling as a quartet, with Hailey still partnered with Walker and Jay with Daisy. For the most part, they were all out in the field together, but some instances required the pairs to break apart. He and Daisy’s partnership was working, but they didn’t function in the same natural way he and Hailey always did. He missed riding with her, but he was making do with the current arrangement until their training period was up. Overall, he was fond of Daisy. She was competent, cool under pressure, and she had his back when it counted, so he grew to trust her a great deal. Walker was another story. He was good at his job, there was no doubt about that, but he had a way of running his mouth that made Jay want to keep his distance. Things had been icy since they were at each other’s throats on the first day when Jay’s concern for Hailey got the best of him. They were able to patch things up, but Jay knew they weren’t going to be best friends anytime soon. He also didn’t like the way Walker interacted with Hailey. Other than what Jay identified as obvious flirting, he had a way of coddling her that, from Jay’s eyes, demeaned her and her abilities. He wasn’t sure if she didn’t notice it or if she was choosing to ignore it for the sake of avoiding conflict, but she never called him out for it. At least not when Jay was around. So, he never questioned it. He trusted her. Since it didn’t visibly bother her, he tried to not let it bother him either.

“Excited to have your favorite partner back?” Jay asked as he and Hailey climbed onto the elevator. It was officially their first day of partnering together as agents, and he couldn’t have been happier.

“Wait, Vanessa joined the FBI?” she joked, feigning a look of surprise.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“Nope. I know I’m funny,” she smirked back.

“How is she by the way?” Jay asked, inquiring about her former roommate and best friend. Not long after Hailey went to New York the first time, Vanessa was picked out of Intelligence by Major Crimes to do a long-term undercover sting. She didn’t get to say a proper goodbye to Hailey, something they were both sad about, but they remained in touch through an occasional text.

“She can’t communicate much, but when she does she seems good. You know her, she’s a natural-born UC. Quick on her feet,” she said briefly. Jay nodded, noticing a slight drop in her mood as she spoke about her. He knew the connection those two had. Hailey looked out for her, almost to a fault as it was her attempt at protecting Vanessa and her childhood friend that got her sent to New York in the first place. He knew it killed her to not get to say a proper goodbye, and he could see it in her face in that moment. He decided to change the subject to get it off her mind.

“So, are you going to miss partnering with Walker at all?” Jay asked, slightly nervous to hear her answer.

“Mm, not really. I mean he’s a great agent and all, but he’s just too much in his own head. We connected pretty well with small talk and all that, but I felt like I had to keep a constant eye on him in the field. We just didn’t work well together. Not like you and me anyway,” she admitted, flashing him a brief smile. It was contagious and he turned his head to the side to conceal the one erupting across his face.

It relieved him to know that she didn’t feed into whatever connection Walker was trying to build between them. It made him even more relieved to know that they were back together as partners, something he was counting down to since their first day on the job.

Things jumped off the second they stepped into the bullpen. Drake briefed the team on the case the minute they walked in the room. A rogue member of an anti-military activist group in the city exposed the group’s plans to target a veteran’s convention at the Javits Center in Midtown. Being that their intel came from an insider, the group was oblivious to the bureau’s knowledge of their plans. Drake tasked Jay, Hailey, Walker, and Daisy with attending the convention, posing as veterans as they worked to smoke out the guys before they could carry out their plans. As Drake, a former Naval Officer briefed the case, Jay picked up on some tension and anger in his voice. He recognized it easily because he felt it himself. He pretended he didn’t notice when Hailey’s eyes began to survey his face, what he guessed was her way of trying to read his reaction to the case. He tried his best to remain stone faced, but he knew she could tell something was up just by looking at him.

If they had caught the case a few years prior, he would have gone to a much darker place, acting on rage rather than ration. However, through his therapy sessions over the years, he had learned to manage the emotions that only things related to the service could elicit. Once Drake was finished briefing everyone, he assigned the teams their positions and sent them on their way. As Jay turned away to head to the locker room to change, Drake called out to him.

“Jay, hang back a second?” He asked him. Jay sent Hailey a small wave, signaling her to go on without him. He followed Drake to his office, shoving his hands in his pockets after he closed the office door behind him.

“Something wrong, sir?” Jay asked, confusion in his voice.

“Jay, I know you’ve got a background in the military. I don’t have to imagine what’s going through your head right now, because it’s going through mine as well. But we need to play this one by the book, so I just need to know if I need to keep a leash on you today,” Drake spoke shortly.

“I’m straight, sir. You don’t have to worry about me, I’ll keep in check,” Jay assured him, nodding his head with his words. His boss bobbed his head slowly as if he were debating whether or not to accept his assurance.

“Let me know if that changes,” he replied quietly, sending the agent a trusting nod.

“Will do,” Jay returned before turning to leave the office.

He quickly changed and made his way to the elevators to head down to the garage. His mind flickered back to his time in country. The faces of the six friends he lost before he came home and his best friend Mouse who was there currently flooded his head with memories. He tried his best to shake them off as the elevator descended towards the garage. The case was stirring up something in him, but he was determined to center his focus on the job and not let it take over. The doors opened and he stepped out, tracking his footsteps with his eyes as he walked. When he looked up, Hailey was slumped against the car. When she saw him, she bounced herself off of it with her foot and walked in his direction.

“Everything okay?” She asked, a look of concern plastered across her face.

“Yeah. Drake just wanted to make sure my head was on straight today… with my military background and all,” he said, his eyes darting around the garage to avoid hers.

“Mm,” she hummed. “Let me know if I can take anything off your plate. You know I’ve got your back,” she told him warmly, peering into his eyes with a look of sincerity.

“I know. I appreciate it,” he told her, forcing a smile.

“Anyway, check out our rig,” she said sarcastically, gesturing to the bureau-issued black SUV behind her. “It’s very unique and way better than your old truck,” she mocked, smiling as she tried to lighten the mood.

Against his best efforts, a smile crept away from his mouth as her weak attempt at cheering him up succeeded. Her head tilted as her eyes looked over at him with a glimmer he had only noticed a few other times before.

“C’mon. Let’s take this baby for a spin,” she finally told him, tossing him the keys as she made her way to the passenger side of the car.

Jay’s nerves picked up when they arrived at the convention center. Since they were going in undercover, they had changed into street clothes to blend in. He had chosen one of his old Ranger shirts and jeans, and Hailey opted for a plain white t-shirt and jeans. When they got out of the car, she reached into the backseat, grabbing a ball cap and securing it on her head before closing the door. The word “Navy” was written across it in yellow letters. She didn’t wear hats often, but Jay admired when she did. They suited her, however seeing her rep the Navy stung him a bit.

“You just had to choose Navy didn’t you,” he mocked at her with a scoff, knowing she could have chosen any branch to represent as they attempted to blend into the crowd.

“What?” she feigned ignorance as Jay gave her a look of annoyance. “Drake loaned it to me,” she told him, turning her head up and brushing past him towards the entrance of the building.

“Mm. You know you always could have just borrowed something of mine,” he called after her, taking quick strides to catch up.

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have been able to see that look on your face,” she teased, her attention remaining straight ahead as she smirked slyly. He shook his head with a childish frown as he followed her to the entrance of the building.

Immediately upon walking through the doors, they caught sight of Daisy and Walker waiting for them under a welcome sign. They checked in and grabbed their name tags, before walking over to the two agents to convene before they set out into the center to try and track down the activists. Based on the intel provided by the whistleblower, they learned that the plan was to send in five members, each armed with undetectable weapons to disperse into the convention center and target high-ranking officials from each branch of the military. There was a panel later in the afternoon in which these individuals would all be on stage, the perfect opportunity to carry out the attack. Intel also revealed the individuals would be wearing red shoelaces so that they could spot each other in the crowd, a tidbit the four of them were happy to use to their advantage.

“Four of us, five of them. We need to split up. Hailey and I can take the first and second floor, you guys take the third and fourth. We each get a floor and call for backup the second we find any of these guys. If you spot one, take them down quietly, we can’t risk them alerting the others,” Jay commanded, taking point on the operation. They all nodded before breaking off and heading towards their separate floors.

“I’ll take the second floor,” Hailey told him, moving past him to climb the stairs.

“Wait,” he called after her, grasping her wrist lightly to stop her.

She looked down at his hand on her wrist, her eyes lingering for a moment before swallowing hard and bringing them back up to meet his. He quickly released his hand, bringing it to his pocket before he spoke.

“I- Just be careful, yeah?” He said simply, avoiding what he originally intended to say. Despite what he previously told both her and Drake, the case and being in a room full of veterans was affecting him more than he would have liked to let on. He almost told her this, hoping she’d have something to say that would help calm the jumbled mess going on in his brain. Yet, he realized she would just worry more and insist on staying together as they sought out the targets, and they needed to split up for time’s sake. So, before the words could leave his mouth, he asked for reassurance of the only other thing on his mind. Her safety.

Her brow furrowed at his words almost like she knew that wasn’t what he wanted to say, but she just nodded simply in affirmation. She brought a fist to bump his chest lightly before turning back and once again heading toward the stairs. He took a deep breath and recited the prayer of St. Christopher his mother made him and Will memorize when they were younger. These were grounding techniques he learned during his time in therapy. When he first started therapy, he thought the techniques were bogus, but he came to learn they really helped him cope when things began to trigger him.

He took one final breath before making his way through the crowd of people, glancing down at the floor every few seconds to survey the shoes of those around him, trying to spot any glimpse of red he could.

Half an hour had passed, and it had been radio silence over the coms. He knew the operation would be difficult, but he thought for sure by that point they would have found at least one of the offenders. Just as he began brainstorming different strategies in his head, he caught a glimmer of red on the floor, doing a double-take and stopping in his tracks to confirm his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. The red shoelaces were there, plain as day, and the man wearing them was by himself, surveying the crowd nervously.

“I’ve got one of the targets. First floor near the east corner by a couple of food vendors. I’m moving in now, meet at the rendezvous,” he said into the coms before walking towards the coffee stand to his right. He grabbed a coffee, filling the cup with cream to cool it down before walking towards the target. A few steps away from the man, he faked a trip, sending the contents in the cup all over him.

“Woah, I’m so sorry, man,” Jay called out, reaching for napkins to try and help the man dry his drenched shirt.

“What the hell is your problem?” The guy questioned, a look of fury on his face.

“That is totally my bad. I’m such a klutz. I didn’t see that bump on the floor,” Jay told the man, handing him napkins as he attempted to pat his shirt dry. “Hey, you need to get that under some water. The men’s room is right around that corner and I think there were hand dryers in there,” he said, pointing around a corner. The man angrily turned, making his way in the direction Jay had just pointed to.

“Eyes up, he’s coming your way,” he said into his mic.

They grabbed the man up, locking him in a backroom the convention center had provided to them for detainment. The hope was that they could get him to give up the location of the other men, but his silence proved he wasn’t giving anything up.

“Why don’t you two keep questioning him, Daisy and I will go back out there and sniff the rest of these guys out,” Walker told the two partners. Jay clenched his jaw tightly as he eyed the target on the other side of the room. He hadn’t had the chance to question him yet, but he already knew whatever he had to say was going to just piss him off.

“You okay for that?” Hailey asked, turning to face him. Her eyes were cut up at him under the brim of her hat, and there was an earnest look on her face as she awaited his response.

“What do you mean by that?” Walker questioned before Jay could answer. He and Daisy weren’t aware of his history, certainly not in the way Hailey was. The last thing he wanted to do in that moment was dish out the details of his PTSD.

“Nothing,” he told the man bluntly before turning back to Hailey. “I’m fine, really,” he told her. As convincing as he tried to be, her eyes loitered on his face as she tried to measure the truth behind his words.

“You guys go ahead, we’ve got him,” she finally told the other two agents before they hesitantly turned on their heels to head back into the convention center. The second they were gone she stepped closer to him so she could speak to him without the man hearing.

“Look, I’m trusting you here, but the second you start to cross a line, I’m pulling you. This isn’t Intelligence. We can’t take the same risks here that we could under Voight. Understood?” She told him in a low voice. He bobbed his head up and down in agreement before making his way over to the man.

When they first detained the guy, they snapped a picture and sent it back to the analysts at headquarters to get an ID. Jay scanned the man’s file on his phone before slowly making his way over to him. He took a chair and sat it across from the man, turning it so he could sit with his arms crossed over the back of it.

“Mark Jones. You are quite the model citizen. Numerous charges for assault and battery, disturbing the peace, unlawful assembly, multiple violations of restraining orders, the list really goes on. But I don’t care about all of that. I care about why you’re at a veteran’s convention considering how public you’ve been about your hatred for the military,” Jay said, his eyes staring daggers into the man’s face.

“I ain’t talking to you. You’re just another pawn in the game. Too stupid and brainwashed to realize you guys are just a bunch of empty-headed murderers, blindly following whatever our so-called government tells you to,” the man spat back.

Murderers. The word made faces appear in Jay’s head. Faces of those he had killed both in Afghanistan and in Chicago. Faces he had spent years tormented by. He took several deep breaths, trying to ground himself. To keep from losing control. He looked over at Hailey who stood beside him, her arms crossed as she glared at the man across from them. Her attention turned to him and the expression on her face remained the same while the look in her eyes adjusted, sending him a soft message of support. This reassured him and he took one last deep breath before turning his attention back to the man.

“Where are the others?” Jay questioned, dragging out each word through clenched teeth. The man only gave him a snarl and an evil smile. He knew he was rattling Jay, and that only got him even more riled up.

“Ranger, huh?” He asked, avoiding Jay’s question completely and reading the letters across his shirt. “Y’all are the worst ones of them all. What’s your body count?” The man questioned, shifting his eyes from Jay to Hailey. “Baby blues here probably wouldn’t even be able to look you in the eyes if she knew how many, am I right?” The man laughed. Jay let out an annoyed laugh, staring into the space behind the man silently. His tongue trailed the back of his bottom teeth, the rage burning inside him and churning with every word that left the man’s mouth. Suddenly, he stood from his chair, kicking it towards the man aggressively before grabbing him by the collar. Almost immediately, he felt Hailey tugging at his arm to pull him off.

“You’re done, back up or get out,” she told him assertively. He continued scowling at the man, not moving from his position. She pushed against his chest, dropping her tone. “Jay, I’m serious. I’ve got this, stand back,” she told him in a whisper. Her voice snapped him out of the state he was in, and he threw his hands up, backing up and making his way to the wall on the other side of the room.

Jay’s ears rang as he blankly watched Hailey question the man. The room felt like it was spinning and whatever words were being exchanged between the two weren’t registering inside his head. All he could hear was a ringing in his ears, and what sounded like his heart beating out of his chest as his breath and heart rate increased out of control. He closed his eyes and took a breath. In for seven, out for eight. He quietly whispered the prayer of St. Christopher once again.

Grant me, O Lord, a steady hand and watchful eye, that no one shall be hurt as I pass by. You gave life, I pray no act of mine may take away or mar that gift of Thine. Shelter those, dear Lord, who bear my company from the evils of fire and all calamity.

When he opened his eyes, he was startled to see Hailey slowly and cautiously making her way toward him. Her brow was raised at him, and she turned around to look at their detainee before grabbing at Jay’s forearm and dragging him around the corner gently, out of the man’s sight.

“Are you good?” She questioned, a fearful look on her face and deep concern in her voice.

“Yeah,” he told her unconvincingly. But the rapid beating of his heart and the fog in his brain said otherwise. Almost like he had lost control of his body, he blurted out the word “no” as he shook his head. “I just, I-“ there was desperation in his voice, and the words fell out between irregular breaths. He noticed Hailey’s eyes begin to gloss over and she removed her hat, placing it on a chair beside them before closing the space between them. She then reached down to grab his hand, raising it to place it over her heart, keeping it there with her hand pressed tightly over his. This froze him, causing him to lose his breath completely as he brought his eyes down to meet hers. Any other time the touch would’ve had his heart racing, but somehow in that moment, it was what was calming him down.

“Jay, just control your breathing. Feel my heart beating, feel my hand against yours. You’re in America. You’re in New York. We’re both right here together, and you’re okay,” she whispered, taking deep breaths. She counted out her inhales and exhales, urging him to match her pattern of breathing. After a few moments like that, his breathing became normal again and they separated, taking a step back after releasing from each other’s touch.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable for letting her see that side of him.

“No, do not be sorry. You have nothing to apologize for.”

He nodded. “How’d you know what to do?” He questioned, picking up on the ease in which she was able to help him overcome the episode.

“After watching you deal with your PTSD alone early in our partnership, I decided to learn how I could help you in those situations in case I ever needed to. I actually asked the department shrink back in Chicago if she could give me any tips. She gave me those grounding techniques, the focusing on your senses, controlling your breathing…” her voice trailed off. He was looking at her deeply, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of care and concern she had for him. When she noticed the way he was looking at her, she looked away bashfully, reaching for her hat and securing it back on her head before clearing her throat.

“Anyway, are you okay?” She questioned. He nodded.

“Thank you.”

She took a deep breath before reaching to speak into the coms.

“Bennett, Burrows, Jones wouldn’t give me any leads on where the others are, but we need to find them fast. I was able to find out that at least two of them are carrying deadly aerosols. They’re after more than just the officials, they want to target as many of these veterans as possible,” she told them.

After calling in two other agents to watch the detainee, Jay and Hailey made their way back into the convention center. Against protest, she insisted they clear the place together. He knew it slowed down the operation, but it comforted him to know she was by his side in case he began to slip into a dark place again. About an hour passed, and they had no luck. The panel that would gather most of the convention attendees and all of the high-ranking officials was soon approaching, and Jay had a new idea to get the guys, but it was risky. They reconvened in the detainment room upon his request. Each of the agents eyed him, waiting for him to speak.

“I think we need to let the panel happen. We know this is what these guys are targeting. It’ll be easier to spot them this way, and we can get them all at once,” Jay proposed, looking between each of them for their reaction.

“It’s too risky, we’d be putting everyone in the room at risk,” Walker said, strongly opposing the suggestion.

“I don’t know, he has a good point. Having them all in one place, we don’t risk one of them slipping through the cracks,” Daisy voiced in support.

“Or it makes everything ten times worse, and they all get lost in the crowd,” Walker argued back. Hailey was quiet throughout the interaction, and they all looked to her to get her opinion.

“I think it’s risky, but I also think it’s the only play we have left,” Hailey said.

“Yeah, well you shouldn’t get a say, you would clearly side with him no matter what,” Walker said bluntly.

“Excuse me?” Hailey bit back. Before the conflict could go any further, Daisy butted in.

“You’re outnumbered here, Burrows, and we’re out of time. We’re doing Halstead’s plan,” she said straightly, turning to head back into the center. There was a distinct tension in the room, but they all shook it off to focus on the task at hand.

It was decided, they wait until the panel began and sniff the guys out. They called in another unit of covert tact guys to cover the perimeter of the crowd. Every minute that passed had them all on edge, and none of them had spotted the guys. Eventually, Daisy got the idea to pull the fire alarm. The ones who looked panicked, desperate to get to the exits would weed out the targets who would be desperate to stay inside. With a stroke of luck, the plan worked. Some of the tact guys were able to spot and take down two of the offenders, Jay and Daisy got another, while Walker and Hailey were left wrestling another to the ground. In the process, the man had dropped an aerosol canister. Hailey’s heart stopped as she watched it roll across the floor, but she breathed a sigh of relief when they got to it with the lid still sealed. The day ended much better than they could have all imagined.

Back at the office, they worked on paperwork late into the night. Jay was still distracted, still dealing with the effects of the day. Hailey helped him with the paperwork so they could get out of there more quickly, something he was grateful for. Logging off their computers and closing up files, Walker rose from his chair.

“I’m really sorry about earlier, I say we all go out to drinks. Clear up the air. I’m buying the first round,” he said, addressing every single one of them as he pulled on his coat.

“You know I would, but I’ve got a baby to get home to. After today, all I need are some tiny person cuddles,” Daisy said with a tired smirk.

“I’m in,” Hailey said, looking over at Jay as they awaited his response.

“I appreciate the apology, but today really had me beat, I’d rather just go home and sleep it all off,” Jay said as he rose from his chair. Hailey’s gaze remained fixed on him a moment, almost like she was asking if he was okay without saying a word at all. He nodded his head, slowly blinking his eyes at her and she sent him a false smile in response.

“You and me then, kid,” Walker said, eyeing Hailey with a less than wholesome look. Jay tensed up at the thought of the two of them, alone in a bar, winding down in the way he and Hailey were so used to doing. But after everything that had happened, he wasn’t feeling social, and the last thing he wanted was to be out for drinks with the two of them as Walker ogled Hailey the entire night. They left the desks to head out, and he slowly pulled on his coat and grabbed his phone and keys.

“Jay, wait up,” Drake called after him as he passed his office.

“Yes sir?” Jay questioned.

“Nice work today, I know it couldn’t have been easy. At least it wouldn’t have been for me,” he told him, sending a look of sincerity.

“It wasn’t easy, but Upton had my back.”

“Yeah, she’s a good one isn’t she?” Drake said. Jay looked behind him towards the elevators where she and Walker were waiting together. Walker said something to make her laugh, causing Jay’s face to drop immediately. He forced a smile before turning back to Drake.

“Yeah she’s a good piece of gear,” he told him, a phrase only a fellow military man would understand. Drake flashed him a smile in return, and Jay hung his head low.

“Goodnight, Halstead,” Drake told him.

“Goodnight, sir,” he returned before heading out.

He was still trying to decompress after the heaviness of the day, but he couldn’t get the idea of Walker and Hailey out of his head. He’d wished she would’ve said no, wished she wouldn’t be on her way to spend who knows how long with him at a bar. He also wished she would show up at his door, despite him saying he wanted to be alone, bearing booze and comfortable silence that always brought him peace after cases like that day’s. Yet, that night he knew she wouldn’t. So, he went home and immediately went to bed. Part of him was scared to sleep, bracing himself for whatever nightmares were to come as a result of the day’s triggers. He kept a light on that night, knowing if he woke up in the middle of the night from a bad dream it would remind him that he wasn’t in the middle of the desert, fighting for his life and trying to protect those around him. He recited the prayer of St. Christopher for the third time that day, but this time before he could get out all of the words, he was overcome with exhaustion and gave in to sleep.

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #upstead fic #justmypartner fics #collection of Em’s fics

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my-makeshift-masquerade · 3 years

Text

Riva Remembers

(A cheesy title for a fic I wrote while in the midst of an emotional breakdown, haha… I figured I’d post it on here because people seem to like my artwork of this OC so far. This is my first time writing these characters. Also I am on mobile and super duper tired from the aforementioned breakdown, so please pardon the long post. I have no idea how to put the read more thing on this… Regardless I hope someone enjoys this, I guess.)

“Agent Cruller, it’s me! Raz! I need to talk to you—“

“Sorry, senior staff only!” The old man in the mailroom office replied coldly, turning back to sorting the piles of letters with telekinesis.

“Don’t you know who I am?!” Nick’s voice came from farther into the mailroom, “I’m telling my dad!”

Razputin suddenly got an idea… He raced down to find his mentor standing there, eyes looking off in two separate directions. Another figure he recognized was on the verge of a nervous breakdown right next to him… Actually she looked like she had already been through multiple breakdowns before he even got here.

“Mr. Johnsmith?! Come on! It’s me! N-nick?!” The teen ran pale hands through her short brown hair, “Th-this is terrible! I am dead for sure!”

“Postage stamps…are scratch and sniff…” The pot-bellied man mumbled nonsensically beside her.

“Whoa, whoa, Riva…” The ten year old’s expression softened, “I was the one who found his brainless body… What do you mean you’re dead?”

“N-norma…she… t-told everyone I…”

“She thinks YOU’RE the mole?!” The child was taken aback, slightly angered even, “Why?!”

“I-I don’t know…M-maybe it’s because I didn’t notice the body before you…?” Riva sniffled, “It doesn’t matter… Agent Foresythe is going to have me detained…o-once she hears about this…”

“What?! No way!” He looked at her with determined eyes, “Don’t worry! I have a plan! I am going to get a new brain for Nick’s body, so he can let me into the mailroom office! Once I get there, I will be one step closer to proving you’re innocent!”

“Y-you really think… I-I’m innocent…?” Her tear filled blue eyes looked at him as if confused by his faith in her.

“I know you are!” He nodded, “Hey! Can you watch Ford for me until I get back? Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere!”

“F-ford…?” The other intern’s eyes narrowed at that name, as if she were squinting to see through a thick fog, “Ford…why does… Oh! Ford Cruller, right… He’s one of the psychic 6…” She shook her head, “Sorry, I am just…all over the place… These panic attacks take a lot out of me…”

“It’s all going to be okay.” The younger of the two gently took the other’s hand, waving to Nick before walking up to the office room, “Agent Cruller! This is my friend! She works in the mailroom—!”

“If she isn’t senior staff, that door ain’t openin’!” Ford declared before the boy could finish.

“Oh, I know!” Raz nodded, “This is Riva. She is having a hard time right now, and I don’t want to leave her alone. Maybe you two could talk or something?”

“Eh?! Oh, sure…sure thing…” The senior sounded slightly jostled for a moment, before returning to his distant demeanor, “Chit chat makes the sortin go faster…”

“Great!” The boy smiled at Riva before racing up to the exit of the mailroom, “I��ll be back as soon as possible!”

Soon after the sound of footsteps and levitation bubbles faded, the remaining intern heard the door creak open.

“Riva…” Cruller’s voice sounded slightly shaken, “I… Is it really you…?”

“S-sir…?” She frowned, “I-I don’t think we’ve met before…”

“Ah… I shoulda known you would’ve repressed it all…” He looked at the floor grimly, “They feared what you could become if you knew…”

“…W-what…?” The teen stepped away as the agent stepped closer, reaching a hand out to her. Eventually, she was against a wall.

“You…really were damaged by the feedback…weren’t you, kid…?” His bushy eyebrows furrowed in concern, “Back at Whisperin Rock… you remember that place, right…?”

Oh, that summer camp she got kicked out of only mere days in because she wasn’t even a real psychic?

“Yes, that’s the one.” Cruller answered her thoughts telepathically, “Except… you are psychic, Riva… Always have been… They just wanted you to believe you weren’t…so they could let you go back to society…”

Go…back…? Why wouldn’t she have been allowed to be in society if she was psychic? Isn’t that what the psychonauts are all about?

“You had potential, unlike what Nein Vodello and myself had ever seen from such a young mind… until Raz showed up, of course, but he was slightly older than you were…” He finally grabbed both of her hands, encasing them in his own, “You had such a gift with clairvoyance… it was beyond what the psychonauts ever thought was possible…”

“W-Wait…” She blinked, “You know Raz then? Why didn’t you just let him in the office…?”

“He’s not ready to learn the dark truths I’ve got tucked away in this old noggin…” The old man sighed, “I-I’m not ready for em, either… but… you are. You need to know the truth about yourself… You need to stop disregarding me when I say this: You ARE psychic…”

“B-BUT I’M NOT!” Riva tried to pull her hands away from him, to which he gently released them from their hold, “T-THAT CAMP WAS THE WORST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED TO ME! I THOUGHT I WOULD FIND SOMEWHERE I BELONGED, THAT I WAS GOOD FOR SOMETHING! B-but… I wasn’t… I-I was so full of myself to think I was special! M-My brains just BROKEN—“

“Stop it right there.” His voice became firmer, “Listen to me, before someone comes! Your potent clairvoyance meant we didn’t need any altering technology to convince you of a lie… You are so in tune with other people’s viewpoints and perspectives… you don’t even know what your reality is anymore… Other people tell you who you are, what you do, where you go. No more playin pretend, Riva.”

“I-I…b-but…”

“You were a psychic of high potential even at age 7, with budding specialities in clairvoyance, and hydrokinesis….” He smiled, “You… you made friends with every single piece of me, kid… I took you under my wing to teach you what I knew… but hydrokinesis… was a feared ability due to…well… another incident... When that secret spilled…”

“N-no… I-I can’t be… I-I don’t remember any of this!“

“Nein feared that your age, your diagnosis of autism, both combined with your psychic potential could result in you developing powerful abilities beyond even your own control…” Ford shook his head, “Headquarters wanted to lock ya up for observation in a psychoisolation facility for life… but, Sasha found a loophole. By having someone tell you that their biased perspective was reality, your brain would doubt its own perception, and start to believe them. That’s how we managed to let you leave that campsite with your family…”

By this point Riva was speechless, as countless memories she thought she had selfishly dreamed about returned to her. She fell to her knees, staring at nothing as she was flooded with all that she had forgotten. The ruthless bullying at camp, and their sabotaging of her efforts to learn to use her powers… That time they tried to drown her in the lake and she washed them all ashore on accident… the horror on everyone’s faces… It all actually happened?!

There were some happy things hidden in the mess, though… The time she’d spend drawing the wildlife out there, the cool places to explore… and the single friend she made at camp… That’s right, the cook was always there to comfort her after the other kids picked on her… No, wait, it was the ranger… But then why’d she remember a janitor, and a man watching over the canoes…? Why did they all look the same, identical even…? Then there was one more in a psychonauts uniform…

“There ya go. Now you’re getting it…” His frail hand grabbed one of hers, helping her up with a chuckle. “I should look more familiar to ya now, eh?”

She made eye contact again, and felt so stupid for not noticing this before. Riva always had an interest in the psychonauts, because they seemed like they could tolerate different minds. If her family could afford it, she would even read True Psychic Tales, mainly because she admired the illustrations. How could she not realize she knew Ford “The Founder Of This Whole Place” Cruller until now?!

Yet, at the same time, she felt her eyes water. It was nice to know she had a friend back then, even if he was old enough to be her grandpa. She didn’t say a word, and extended her free arm as an invitation…for something she definitely needed and wouldn’t want to get from Nick. The agent understood, and they hugged for a brief moment. She felt like this had happened before.

“I-I… I’m glad to see you, Mr. Cruller, b-but…” She quickly shifted back to worrying, “I-I am not in the best situation to do much of anything regarding the truth right now… I know Norma is telling Hollis I am the spy in the psychonauts… I-I am going to get locked up in the end anyway… T-they didn’t believe me before… Why would they believe me now—?”

He was gone.

The intercom sounded, with Hollis’ sharp voice ringing out, “Would Riva Beckons please come to the main area IMMEDIATELY!”

#shut up becca #drabbles #psychonauts riva beckons #psychonauts oc #psychonauts sona

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rangercorpses · 3 years

Text

This is going to appeal to me and only me bc this is so fucking niche but, hear me out

Mechanisms/rangers apprentice crossover

Screenshot of my og idea:

And some more under the cut that was supposed to be a quick outline but turned into a bullet point fic:

There's these bandits that are just. Devastatingly destructive, and witnesses swear they're wielding some sort of magic sword that can shoot fire out the end???

Anyways Halt and Will and Gilan and Horace get recruited into catching them bc ofc they do <3

They find the bandits - it's not hard, they're not even bothering with being subtle about anything, so they just have to follow the trail of destruction.

They arrive and scope out the situation, and find..a group of four people, sitting in a(n empty, half aflame) bar just..laughing and.....playing music?

(in a bar that's burning to the ground. A bar. That's burning. To the ground. Horace can't quite get over that. Will is eyeing one of bandits, who's playing a mandolin. He looks suspiciously like he's assessing his chances of nicking it (it's a very nice mandolin after all).)

They can't reasonably go into a flaming building for four bandits, even bandits as dangerous as these four are, so they use the opportunity to scope it out

It's almost an hour later when the bandits finally leave the bar

(as if their presence had been the only thing holding it up, the bar collapsed in a wave of smoke and sparks behind them. One of them, dressed in grey and black with bright red hair blew a kiss back at the flaming wreckage)

Now that they're out of the bar, Gilan pursues them, staying carefully out of sight, the other three staying behind to wait for him to report back.

Several hours later, he returns, sheepishly in tow behind the four bandits. Halt had an arrow nocked and aimed at the redhead in moments, whom he'd deemed to be the leader. (Not that it seemed to have any effect on them, save amusement)

"So this is who's been following us," the one with the red hair said, looking each of them up and down judgmentally.

"They're Not Very Stylish," another said, pouting. It seemed to be..made of wood? Will tried not to think about it too hard, with little success. The wooden man, seeming to sense his confusion, somehow smiled wider.

Halt, still aimed at the redhead, very calmly said, "Let Gilan go."

"Oh please, he's not our prisoner, we're not barbaric," the third said, seemingly the only normal-looking one in the group.

The fourth nodded, the light glinting strangely off his skin, making it seem almost metallic. But metal skin is impossible, right? "It's wrong to hold someone against their will," he said pleasantly. "He's free to go back to you, if he wishes."

Both groups are silent for a moment, before Halt jerked his head, motioning for Gilan to come back over.

The moment he was over, the third beamed. "See, was that so hard? And really, you can lose the bow and arrows, those won't do much. Though you are welcome to try," he said with a wink.

Slowly, Halt lowers his bow, reasoning that now that Gilan had been returned, things were..not safe, but more stable. The bandits certainly weren't acting violent or destructive (at the moment, anyways).

It seemed almost like..they were humoring them

"You four are the bandits who have been looting and burning towns and villages, right?" Will asks. They're being so not murderous that he feels the need to be sure they've got the right people. In his gut, however, he knows they are.

The wooden man starts nodding immediately, its hat nearly falling off from the vigorous motion. The normal-ish man gives a sweeping bow. "The ones and only."

The metal(?) man shakes his head though. "I haven't committed any crimes though, I'm not on the right setting for that." The rangers and knight all unanimously decide to ignore that.

"In that case, you're all under arrest," Halt says, ready to fire of the bandits show any sign of fighting back.

However, they merely nod amicably. Again, the feeling of being humored lays heavily over the group as they quietly attach thumb cuffs and tie their wrists, searching for any weapons and tossing them aside.

Will handled the wooden man's mandolin with care, and it smiled at him for it. "That's Very Polite Of You," it says. "Much More Polite Than Jonny."

Will says nothing, merely continuing, and trying not to think of how the wood of it's fingers were warm.

Horace gives a shout of surprise when he discovers that the most normal looking if the bandits has an arm made out of metal. The man simply wiggles his eyebrows and detaches then reattaches one of his fingers, smirking mischievously

The metal man holds out his arms in front of him for Gilan, allowing him to put on the restraints without complaint, even going so far as to point out several hidden weapons, stating that "a lie of omission is still a lie." This is met with groans from the other bandits.

The redhead quirks an eyebrow as Halt approaches, to which Halt raises an eyebrow back. This goes on for a minute longer than Halt will admit to before he finally attaches the thumb cuffs and ties them up.

Once the bandits are all tied up, there's nothing left but to take them back to Castle Araluen.

The ride back is heavy with the tension of knowing, with complete and utter certainty, that the bandits could break out at any second with ease.

Instead, they are laughing and talking amongst themselves. As they talk, they refer to each other by name, and they learn that the redhead is named Ashes, the man with the metal hand is Marius, the metal man Brian, and the wooden man the Toy Soldier. They are rather disturbed to learn that there are at least three more like them- though where they are, none of the Araluens can say.

At one point, Halt whirls around at the sound of a violin. "Where did you get that violin?" he snaps, unknowingly echoing another's words, a millennia and several dimensions away. Marius startles, looks down at the violin in his hands, and for some reason, looks sad.

Will quietly sidles up next to Brian and asks why his skin is made of metal, and how it works. Brian laughs. "It's not just my skin," he says. "Everything but my heart is mechanical."

Will doesn't know whether to be horrified or curious. "Why?" he asks.

"I was shot into the sky in froze in space," Brian says easily, as if this is something he's commonly asked.

Will, for once, doesn't ask any more questions.

They do finally arrive at Castle Araluen, and when the bandits are sentenced to death, neither Halt, Will, Gilan, nor Horace are even a little surprised when they get right back up after being killed.

#ra #ranger's apprentice #halt o'carrick #will treaty #gilan davidson #horace altman #FUCK i was blanking on horaces last name and the only thing i could think of was pancake bc of knight of the pancake sjdkskkskfkdkfk #UM fo context since ik prolly not many ppl will know abt the mechs?#to keep it simple theyre a band of immortal space pirates who like to have violence!#theres nine of them but only four are in this!#im.. hyperfixated so hard on them AHSJDJ #anyways i figured these four would be up for humoring the rangers+horace <3 rather than just outright murdering them AHDJSJKS #they thrive on the confusion and chaos they spread <3 #if anyones curious and somehow knows both the mechs and ra. jonny and tim are over in hibernia. nastya is with the aurora in skandia.#ivy has been hitting up every major library in every country #and raph is gathering data across the globe for her unethical science <3 #there is NO way for this to fit into canon but i dont care #canon has no meaning in this place #ANYWAYS um sorry if anyones out of character this is meant to be silly so i didnt worry too much abt proper characterization #also i wrote this at like one in the morning and i cant focus enough to edit/revise it now that ive slept so. uh yeah #sorry if its kinda wonky

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writtenonreceipts · 4 years

Text

Square One Pt 2

I got some ideas and thoughts on the background for the story. I should have thought about all of that prior to posting but I can be really impatient. Ha. So bare with me if there do seem to be slight inconsistencies between this and the first chapt. Also, I am the worst outliner. I am a discovery writer through and through--just a small warning haha.

And then as soon as I say I want to write a multi-chapt fic I loose all inspiration and motivation. story of my life...enjoy anyways...i hope

“I hate your boyfriend Manon,” Elide announced as she entered her friend’s living room with a glass of water and bowl of chips.

Manon was seated casually on her couch wine glass in hand and computer already settled on her favorite site to online shop through.

“At least he’s cute,” Manon said half-heartedly. She took a long sip of her drink as she filtered through her shopping.

In the bedroom, Marion was snuggled with the “puppy” Abraxos and an ipad loaded with cartoons. It was only Thursday but Elide couldn’t bring herself to announce no more television. Especially if it meant having a brief moment of solitude with her friend.

“He’s making me be friends with Lorcan Salvaterre,” Elide said.

Manon snorted into her wine and gave a choking cough. “He’s doing what?”

“Apparently neither of our kids have friends,” Elide said. She paused when a sudden wave of emotion washed over her. Scowling at herself Elide shook her head. “Dorian says it would be a good idea for Marion and Tavish to have playdates, become friends. So now I have to be friends with Lorcan Salvaterre.”

Cackling madly, Manon threw her head back with a laugh. The woman seemed to be enjoying this far too much.

“It’s not funny,” Elide growled.

“Oh yes it is,” Manon said. “Especially if we get a repeat of the fourth of July."

Manon may have found it hilarious, but Elide was struggling more and more to hold back on the emotion building in her chest. When Elide didn't reply, however, Manon went quiet which of course only made it harder for Elide to hold back her tears.

"Lide," Manon said in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

"It's fine," Elide insisted. She brushed furiously at her eyes. "I'm fine."

She didn't have to look at Manon to know that her best friend was about to call her a liar when the front door to the apartment opened and Dorian entered.

"Hey babe," he called out before he saw Elide. "And babe."

"No," Elide said, "you shouldn't call me that."

Dorian grinned before making his way to the kitchen and grabbing a beer for the fridge. "Where's the menace to society?"

"You're child?" Manon asked quirking a brow.

"It's a dog, and it's a demon," Dorian replied.

"Uncle Dorian!"

Dorian managed to turn just in time before Marion attacked Dorion, nearly sending him toppling over. Abraxos, a rescue pit bull with half a missing ear and plenty of battle scars scampered into the room to join the attack on Dorian.

It was enough chaos that Elide was able to forget her earlier rise in emotions and laugh as Dorian struggled to keep his feet and beer.

"Where was my hello this afternoon?" Dorian exclaimed with a laugh. He managed to put his beer up on the counter and scoop Marion in his arms.

"You're a teacher, I can't know you," Marion said.

Elide and Manon leaned into each other laughing heavily while Marion dictated all the reasons why she had to ignore him.

"And you're old," Marion concluded.

"I love your daughter," Manon said as she finished her glass of wine.

Elide couldn’t help but agree. She watched contentedly as Dorian accepted Marion’s help in getting dinner together. The unspoken agreement of the Havilliard-Blackbeak household was that Manon did none of the cooking. And Elide was in full support of it. She’d tried Manon’s cooking before and it hadn’t been great.

It wasn’t much later when Marion had finally collapsed from exhaustion on her mother’s lap and was in a peaceful slumber.

Dinner had consisted of grilled cheese and soup, both of which Marion declared were her two favorite things. Ever. Another reason that Elide decided Dorian was one of her favorite humans. If he could get her daughter to eat something without complaining, he could do anything.

“Do you need us to watch her?” Dorian asked as he settled onto the couch beside Manon.

It took Elide too long to really grasp what Dorian had asked and remember what day it was. “Can you tomorrow night? They have me on a closing shift.”

“Of course,” Manon said immediately. She tucked her head back against Dorian’s chest and nodded encouragingly.

“I can always Aelin too, I don’t want to bother you and Dor--”

Dorian cut her off. “You’re never bothering us.”

Elide could only nod. There was an unspoken invitation lingering behind Manon’s words. An invitation that Elide would never accept. She couldn’t. Maybe she was too stubborn, but there was something about accepting the help--the charity that she knew she would never get over. Besides, Manon and Dorian had already done more than enough for Elide. More than she would ever be able to pay them back for.

“We should probably go,” Elide said, running her fingers through Marion’s hair. “It’s a school night.”

“I’ll pick up Marion so you can go straight to work,” Manon offered.

“That would be great,” Elide agreed. She carefully pulled Marion into her arms and stood. “I can give you money for pizza or something.”

“Hell no,” Dorian said. “We’re making our own pizza tomorrow.”

“We are?” Manon asked doubtfully. “You remember what happened the last time we did that?”

“Well this time the damn dog won’t get on the counter and eat all the cheese,” Dorian said.

Manon grinned slyly at him. “You love that damn dog.”

“Not as much as I love you,” Dorian replied.

Elide let out a groan and moved to the door before they started jumping on each other. “You two are disgusting.”

Manon cackled loudly and jumped up to follow Elide to the door. “Love you, Elide. I’ll text you when I pick her up from school.”

Elide flashed one more grateful smile to Manon before hurrying out to her car, Marion still deeply asleep in her arms.

“So,” Rowan said with a deep frown, “Havilliard’s making you and Lochan be friends?”

“Our kids,” Lorcan said.

Rowan shrugged and leaned against the kitchen counter of Lorcan’s place. In the living room a cartoon was playing and Tavish was yelling along to it--something with power rangers or something of the sort.

“I still can’t believe the two of you have kids,” Rowan said. “I thought she went off to play soccer at Wendlyn University.”

“So did I,” Lorcan said.

He could remember the day she told him about her plans. She’d said she was going to get the hell out of Terrasen and never look back. That no one was going to stop her. Lorcan remembered that was the day he realized that he kind of loved her. They were only seventeen and Lorcan was always in awe of her spitfire nature and her passion for life. Even when her uncle tried to break her continually.

“I didn’t think she’d ever come back here,” Lorcan added, “let alone stay here.”

Not after what had happened near the end of their senior year. What he’d said. What he’d done. But Lorcan pushed that thought aside. Thinking about the past had never done him any good.

“Dad?” Tavish poked his head into the kitchen and blinked up at his father innocently. “Can we go visit Momma tomorrow?”

Lorcan looked at his son, confused. It wasn’t completely an out of the ordinary request, but strange nonetheless.

“Of course, bud,” Lorcan said, “but you know your momma wants you to go to bed on time.”

Tavish’s eyes widened to an impossible size before he nodded sullenly and dashed through the kitchen to his room.

“How has he been?” Rowan asked quietly as Tavish began slamming drawers in his room to get ready for bed.

“He was barely three when she died,” Lorcan said, “it’s been what? Four years?”

“Yeah but if he’s being distant in school to the point that the principal--” Rowan began, but Lorcan scowled at him.

“Havilliard’s an ass,” Lorcan said, “and is just looking for something to do.”

“Lor,” Rowan said softly, “you know he’s right.”

Lorcan sighed heavily as Tavish dashed back out of his room to the bathroom. The water turned on and the brief sounds of brushing filled the silence. Tavish skidded back into the kitchen, his shirt was on inside out and his pants were pulled on unevenly so the left leg was bunched around his knee and the right flopped over his foot.

“Uncle Rowan,” Tavish said “can we go to the park with Fleetfoot on Saturday? Aelin said we could.”

“Maybe on Saturday, my man,” Rowan said, he flashed Lorcan a look, “I hear your dad has plans for you on Saturday.”

Tavish cast Lorcan a long look that could easily be interpreted as uncertain and disbelieving.

“Marion’s mom invited us to play soccer on Saturday,” Lorcan explained. Though he tried, Lorcan couldn't quite hide the grin when Tavish smacked a hand on his head.

“Marion doesn’t even like rocks or worms dad,” Tavish said. “Why do I hafta be friends with her?”

“Because friends are good for you,” Lorcan replied. It was the worst explanation imaginable and Tavish fixed him with a look that was so obviously exasperated and reminded Lorcan so much of himself that he actually laughed out loud. “Besides, it’ll be fun.”

Taish let out a loud groan and slumped off towards his room.

“I’ll tuck you in in a minute, bud,” Lorcan called after him.

“Good luck with that,” Rowan said under his breath.

“I’m not looking forward to the teenage years,” Lorcan agreed.

Rowan grinned and shook his head before heading out for the night. It was a regular thing that Rowan or any of their other friends would drop by at any given time. Lorcan had decided long ago that he would have an open door policy with his friends and Tavish. His home was a safe place. No matter what, Lorcan would make sure his son didn’t have the same childhood he did.

As Lorcan entered Tavish’s room he helped pile the blankets on the bed, making sure they were tucked sufficiently. He also had to make sure the stuffed animals were all properly arranged as well.

“Marion’s weird dad,” Tavish said as Lorcan brushed his hair back. “She brought her stuffed animal to school.”

Lorcan shook his head, deciding not to remind Tavish that he’d defended Marion’s choice. Instead he posed a question. “What’s wrong with being weird? Everyone’s a little weird.”

Tavish sighed and squirmed in the bed, getting comfortable. “I dunno. No one really talks to her.”

“Sometimes talking to people is hard,” Lorcan said. He knew Elide had been the same way in High School, always quiet, always careful. Until you got to know then the dam would burst and insanity would ensue. Lorcan smiled softly and leaned over to press a kiss to Tavish’s forehead. “You don’t have to be friends with her if you really don’t want to. But just try this weekend okay?”

Tavish nodded slowly. “Fine.”

“Good,” Lorcan said. “Do you want to read something tonight? We can finish that Spider-Man comic?”

“No s’alright,” Tavish said with a yawn. “G’night daddy.”

Lorcan kissed his son once more and stood. He made it to the door before Tavish spoke again.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Lorcan said as he turned off the light and headed off to bed.

as always, thank-you thank-you thank-you for reading/commenting/reblogging.

I have bits of the next chapter ready, hopefully by next weekend it’ll be done...

tags: Using my general TOG taglist and specific requests for this fic. Let me know if I missed you.

@tottenhamboys20 @morganofthewildfire @aelinchocolatelover @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @bamchickawowow @bri-loves-sunflowers @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

#elorcan #elorcan au #elorcan fanfic #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #tog #empire of storms #queen of shadows #single parent au #square one #the fanfic no one asked for #the fanfic no one asked for continues

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