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waywardsalt · 4 months ago

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finally got around to putting together elden ring builds for the post-ph crew, and tested them out briefly, so here are the builds i came up with and all that! (absolutely a very long post, i had fun explaining a lot of my reasoning)

i'm not going to give them exact stats, just some vague idea of what they'd likely lean towards, and i can't say much to what equip load they have. when i tested these builds out i had 72 endurance. this uses exclusively base-game equipment since i don’t have the dlc and wanted to test these out for myself.

i also don’t use many spells or any incantations so the spell and incantation choices are mostly based on wiki descriptions and whether or not i felt it would fit the character.

some context is that this is with the idea that somehow these four get zapped into the lands between as tarnished, and this is the equipment i think they’d use, disregarding what is needed to access most of this stuff.

i also didn't change my tarnished's appearance for these, not that i think i could accurately replicate these four in elden ring's character creator, anyways, so you get to see my tarnished's face with all of these :)

Link:

His armor is: the highwayman hood, the blue cloth vest, exile gauntlets, and Carian knight greaves.

There's practically no green armor in this game, and what is there isn't really armor and isn’t exactly good protection. I wanted a bit of a balance between just cloth, but also some armor, as well as a headpiece somewhat like the usual hero's cap. The highwayman's hood works well enough, honestly, and I think it fits in well with the blue cloth vest; plus, I can see it being helpful in keeping dust and whatnot out of his eyes. Blue works well enough with Link nowadays, and I do think the blue cloth vest actually fits Link well enough- I doubt he'd want to wear something like a plate breastplate, so a vest like this is good.

The exile gauntlets I feel work well, they're simple and slim with some decent coverage, and the Carian knight graves not only look great with the blue cloth vest, but are also something that I believe fits Link, and the tall boots are likely decently practical in the same vein as the hood.

His weapons I chose are: The Carian knight's sword, with the pulley bow as a secondary weapon, and the Carian knight's shield in his offhand, with the academy glintstone staff as a secondary.

He obviously had to be the good standard sword-and-shield combo fighter, but I went ahead and gave him with Carian sword and shield partially because they look decently similar to what weapons he normally uses, but also because I enjoy the idea of him dabbling in magic along with typical damage types. The Carian sword does a good bit of magic damage along with standard, and the shield guards again both of those types, and the sword's unique ash of war (Carian Grandeur) is a good mix between swordfighting and magic, and actually really good to use in-game. I feel like they suit him well.

For his secondaries, I had to give him a bow, and I feel like the pulley bow is just right, especially with it's special feature of having increased range. I could see him being the one tasked with deactivating faraway traps and hunting the animals of the Lands Between for materials, and even just luring enemies with some normal arrows.

The academy glintstone staff is a solid staff (and the one I personally use), and him using magic is a good way to translate his usual versatility, though I only limited him to five spells, those being:

Loretta's greatbow, giving him what is technically now a second bow, and a pretty good spell for luring and doing some decent magic damage,

Magma shot, a good, simple fire damage spell,

Glintstone Icecrag, a good ice spell, especially for causing frostbite buildup,

Great glintstone shard, a very basic but reliable spell, and is good when cast a few times in succession,

and Thops' barrier, for deflecting magic attacks, and though I've heard it's a mediocre spell, I could see Link getting the timing down and getting some good usage out of it. I tried giving him a decent range of spells, which is a little bit easier said then done considering the actual spell variety and wanting to pick spell that I think suit Link, but I think this is a good lineup.

For talismans, assuming that all four of them have all four talisman slots open, Link gets the silver scarab, the graven-mass talisman, the erdtree's favor +2, and the companion jar.

The silver scarab, raising item discovery is... perfect for Link. It only feels right that he gets a talisman that makes him more likely to get items off enemies. It definitely works, too, while testing, I got way more items out of the gatefront ruins group than I'd ever seen before.

The graven-mass talisman boosts sorcery power, which is certainly perfect for boosting Link's versatility and magic power, simple and useful.

The erdtree’s favor +2 is just an all-around great talisman to use for the hp, mp, and stamina boost, and it feels perfect as something for Link to use, especially to increase his effectiveness and endurance in battle.

And then the companion jar, which goes hand-in-hand with him also being a pot user to further his versatility, and it’s very easy to see him doing the Jar-Bairn side quest. My choices here disregard how the items are obtained, but I could absolutely see Link going out of his way to interact with Jarburg.

Link’s standard fighter, with a balance between offense and defense and physical and magical damage with a slight leaning towards magical, and the main archer who aims to do more damage with archery, and uses pots when needed. He’s probably the one ‘leading the charge’ in that he’s suited for most situations, but isn’t necessarily the most effective in all-out combat- he is the most defensively oriented, however. He’s likely in the mid-to-light equip range, and likely mostly levels Strength and Intelligence to keep his damage up, and focuses a lot on keeping his Vigor up for a good chunk of health.

Linebeck:

His armor is: the black knife armor, the gauntlets, and bandit boots.

The black knife armor is the most important part of the set, not just for it being a nice blue, but because it has the unique effect of completely silencing your movement sounds- perfect for steal and getting in a good number of sneak attacks. It’s light, too, and so are the generally standard gauntlets and bandit boots, all put together for a general… blue rogue kind of look? It’s practicality and some looks and all put around the idea that he’s going to be sneaking around and panic-rolling out of the enemy’s way- so his defenses are a bit lacking in favor of mobility. I do think it’s a good look overall.

His weapons are: A bloody antspur rapier with the poison mist ash of war, the redbranch shortbow as a secondary weapon, and the frozen needle in the offhand.

For Linebeck's build, it was either daggers or rapiers, and the extra damage, range, and great designs for the rapier won out- and I think rapiers suit him well. This specific pair of rapiers are oriented around inflicting ailments, with the frozen needle inflicting frostbite, and the antspur rapier- specifically with the poison mist ash of war and blood upgrade- can inflict scarlet rot, bloodloss, and poison with poison mist active. With the blood upgrade, the scarlet rot buildup suffers, but with the speed of rapiers and just how effective scarlet rot can be, it's a decent trade-off for the ability to do four ailments at once. His role in the Radahn fight is to inflict scarlet rot and then run off to snipe him with the redbranch shortbow, which is a simple ranged option, and helps with further ailment inflicting with ailment arrows.

His damage would probably be pretty decent, especially considering inflicting frostbite and his equipped talismans, but he's mostly going to be heading in with everyone and sticking around until proccing an ailment, and then backing off, especially if poison, rot, or frostbite are inflicted. Plus I think dual rapiers look great and it's very easy to see Linebeck using rapiers.

For talismans, he gets the gold scarab, the assassin's crimson dagger, the dagger talisman, and the blessed dew talisman.

The gold scarab boost rune acquisition by 20%. It's perfect. It's one of my favorite talismans. I can't make an Elden Ring build for Linebeck and NOT give him the money-boosting talisman.

The assassin's crimson dagger restores hp upon successful critical hits, and paired with the silencing effect of the black knife armor, is perfect for someone who's more used to sneaking around and taking down enemies from behind- and it's good for topping off your hp.

The dagger talisman boosts critical damage- so then making sneak attacks all the more effective, and even making any critical hits he manages in fights do much more damage.

And then the blessed dew talisman gives you a very minuscule constant hp regen, about 2 hp per second iirc. It’s incredibly slow, but it's hp regen all the same, good for saving flask uses and good for some health regeneration if you back out of the main fight.

Linebeck's got a big focus on stealth and ailments, with just a bit of health regen tossed in with the talismans to help with survivability. his weapons and offhand options are mainly based around ailments, and besides the bow, he tends to use darts and other throwable items, and is often the one to pick off enemies at the edge of a group while the others go in to the handle the main group. With bosses, he's in the front lines until an ailment is inflicted, and will jump back in either if he's really needed, or if ailments are needed again. For longer bosses, or bosses immune to a few ailments, he would probably find moments to jump in and get a bunch of quick hits in, then back out and wait for another opening. Rapiers are pretty good for quick hits considering that I believe you actually get three attacks from a dual-rapier sprint attack. He’d likely have a focus on Dexterity and Arcane, with some Endurance mixed in for that good running and rolling stamina.

Damien:

His armor is; the sacred crown helm, exile armor, crucible gauntlets, and drake knight greaves.

Picking armor for Damien was a bit of a challenge since he’s still a bit of a work in progress and I usually picture him in generally casual clothes, but I knew I wanted to stick with some red clothing and put together a bit more of a practical sort of outfit. Plus this end result kind of helps me further figure out Damien’s actual design and outfit variations.

I knew I wanted to give him one of the simple footsoldier helmets, and the sacred crown helm won out with the additional detail of the little vine-looking wreath, plus the minor faith boost. It’s a nice little helmet and I think it suits him. The exile armor was considered due to the red cloth around the shoulders, and was properly decided on when I found that the helmet got rid of the cloth covering the bottom half of the face. So it’s a good solid chest piece.

The crucible gauntlets and drake knight greaves work both with color and giving him some more armored extremities, the crucible gauntlets are pretty good heavy armor gauntlets, if the crucible knights themselves are anything to go by, and the drake knight graves seem to have a good bit of practicality with the high boots and armor. It’s all meant to end up somewhere in the medium equip load area, for a balance between defense and speed, and the lighter helmet and chest piece were primarily to even out with the heavier weapons.

The weapons he gets are: the axe of Godrick, the highland axe as a secondary, and the clawmark seal.

The axe of Godrick is a pretty good greataxe with what selection there is, some good damage and a really good ash of war skill with a really good area of effect. It’s fantastic for crowd control when two-handed, and worked pretty well for me when I tested it out without having upgraded it. It’s all in all a great standard axe. The highland axe as a secondary is used partially as a faster one-hand option, and partially for the boost given by its war cry ash of war. The axe of Godrick is almost always what he’d use, but the highland axe is probably better for some specific situations. Damien was always going to end up using axes, and I think these two are pretty good and fitting.

In his other hand is the clawmark seal- scaling with faith and strength and so working well with him relying on strength, and boosting bestial incantations, of which he has one- and he mostly uses support incantations with some minor attack incantations- but he is primarily support, usually backing out of the fight to switch to casting due to usually two-handing the axe of Godrick. He gets six incantations, those being:

Heal, as a very standard heal, mostly just for himself,

Erdtree heal, a heal more intended for group healing,

Golden vow, a group offense and defense buff for a time,

Protection of the erdtree, for increased non-physical defense, which is likely useful for many bosses,

Bestial sling, which is a pretty basic but effective attack incantation, and boosted by the seal he uses, and is probably great in tandem with his axes to break an enemy's poise,

and then Dragonclaw as his final spell, a stronger and closer-up attack spell, likely for individual bosses that are lower on hp.

His offenses are standard and meant to be pretty decent for crowd control and poise-breaking, so his attack spells follow suite, while his support options are based around healing and some basic buffs. I personally do not use buffs or incantations when I play, so I do not know the nuances of a lot of this stuff, but Damien's got a good set of incantations to use.

Damien's set of talismans are the green turtle talisman, the mottled necklace +1, the axe talisman, and the bull-goat's talisman.

The green turtle talisman is a great talisman, simply increasing the speed of stamina regeneration, and it's a fantastic talisman. Very useful with the stamina drained by axe attacks and backing off to cast spells.

The mottled necklace boosts immunity, robustness, and focus, an across-the-board status boost, and I imagine it's useful for being up close with enemies and then staying alive to help with support- even if he doesn't have much in the way of ailment-based support.

The axe talisman is a damage booster, and considering his decent poise, charged attacks are pretty viable for him to be using.

The bull-goat's talisman is standard but very effective in practice (or maybe that's me being used to low poise), as it raises poise, therefore making it harder for you to flinch or be knocked out of an attack. Very helpful with a slower main weapon like the axe of Godrick.

Damien's standard all around, with pretty good damage and likely very helpful with crowd control, usually two-handing the axe for maximum damage and will back off when using incantations. He primarily uses incantations for support, and the offensive incantations are usually saved for bosses or rougher encounters- or sometimes just if he wants to switch things up for fun. He's likely going to focus on Strength and Faith, with some Mind thrown in for most casts.

Bellum:

His armor is: the altered tree sentinel armor, and the malformed dragon gauntlets and greaves.

Chosen partially for the color and because they're all heavy plate armor; meant to emulate a lot of the phantom designs, and for that yellow color, and I wasn't even aware that the malformed dragon gauntlets had a darker color until I was initially putting this together. Heavy armor fits with a desire to survive in battle, plus I think decent mobility in heavy armor suits Bellum; when I tested this out, I was firmly in medium equip load territory, plus it made for a good bit of poise to go with slower weapons. It wasn't too hard to pick out armor for him.

The weapons I felt suit him are: the blasphemous blade, the Marais executioner's sword, with the gravel stone seal as a secondary.

The blasphemous blade was practically necessary, a greatsword with the bonus effect of hp restoration on enemy death, plus the Taker's Flames skill, which also heals hp when it hits an enemy. This is was made me decide on greatswords over colossal weapons, trying to stick a bit with some ideas from the phantoms, plus the hp-leeching effects, plus it’s a pretty good weapon and I think it originally belonging to Rykard also fits pretty well; it’s Bellum’s main weapon unless he switches to the Marais Executioner’s sword for it’s specific skill. That sword is mostly chosen for it’s skill, as well as it’s origins- those bell-bearing hunters are absolute nightmares to deal with- so the two swords are kind of also picked for a sort of intimidation effect. At least the wriggling flesh on the blasphemous blade does the job well enough if someone doesn’t know the origins (which don’t practically matter). He would likely switch to the executioner’s sword for some boss fights, and its skill can be highly damaging to lone enemies- the focus with these two is on heavy damage and hp regen.

The secondary left hand weapon he has is the gravel stone seal, which boost dragon incantations, and so he only uses offense incantations, with a lot of incantations that cover a wide area and some that inflict ailment buildup. Bellum gets five incantations, all attacks (and all maybe emulating the idea that he’s a monster forced to be human in the lands between lol);

Beast claw, a pretty standard but pretty effective ground-level attack,

Unendurable frenzy, a wide range, fiery madness-inflicting incantation that, while only inflicting madness on a select few enemies (and himself) is likely more than useful for crowds and large enemies,

Rotten breath, a dragon communion incantation that is about what it says on the tin, a dragon’s breath attack that inflicts scarlet rot,

Fortissax’s lightning spear, another dragon incantation that summons a pair of lightning spears, with the damage at it’s best up close,

and Aspects of the crucible: tail, a wide-range crucible incantation, and the most fitting of the crucible incantations, I feel.

He has no issue getting up close to bosses, since he can fall back on the honestly insane hp regen he’s afforded by both his main weapon and some of his talismans.

The talismans Bellum gets are; the taker’s cameo, the dragoncrest greatshield talisman, the pearldrake talisman +2, and the godskin swaddling cloth.

The taker’s token has the same passive effect as the blasphemous blade; hp restoration upon enemy death. The fun part is that the taker’s token and the blasphemous blade’s hp regen effects stack with each other.

The dragoncrest greatshield talisman reduces physical damage by 20%, and the pearldrake talisman +2 reduces non-physical damage by about 11%. Covering just about all defenses with these two talismans.

The godskin swaddling cloth allows for additional minor hp restoration upon landing a certain number of melee hits within a short timeframe. This could be harder with greatswords, but with dual greatswords and jumping right into the action, I don’t imagine it’s at all impossible for the talisman’s effect to never trigger. As always, it’s extra effective with a larger number of enemies.

Bellum’s the main damage-dealer with a focus on staying power and lots of hp regen, using the blasphemous blade for regular battles while switching to the executioner’s sword for bosses due to the more aggressive ash of war. His incantations are more often used for crowd control, but are absolutely effect for boss battles, especially when given time to charge them up. He’s all about staying power and straightforward damage-dealing, with some decent poise to back things up despite his checking piece being altered and his lack of a helmet, and all of his incantations are a bit more bestially-inclined. He'd probably focus on Vigor and Strength, with some Faith or Dexterity thrown in for damage-dealing.

Overall, the idea is that the four of them are in the lands between like this, working and running around together, probably fighting over what bosses to go after next and whether or not to head into the catacombs that one of them just spotted. I could see them taking the time to scour the lands between for every little trinket and discussing whether or not to bother with some character's quest. Not too different from actual post-ph stuff, but it's fun to put them in Elden Ring and think on what kinds of equipment to give them and what would suit them.

#salty talks #elden ring #post-ph #ppl checking out the elden ring tag for normal elden ring stuff disregard this dw abt it i have this tagged for my own organization #of these four linebeck's was the most fun to actually use but its mostly bc its the most similar to my usual build #bellum's was kinda cumbersome but god i hated link's i never want to use a shield i almost died testing out link's #which is fuckin saying something at gatefront ruins at level 218 #i didnt test out any of the magic bc. number 1 i have 10 faith. and number two i picked these off fextralife wiki #long post #bellum HAD to use the blasphemous blade its perfect its a big sword that has an hp regen skill and regens hp when you kill something #and has nasty little moving bits of flesh on it. cant see it in the picture ofc but know that in game the red bits wriggle i like it #sorry if the pictures are big btw tbh they look better on mobile #the angle on damien's is awkward bc i wanted to get the whole axe on screen. thats the only reason why his is a little weird #prolly worth mentioning that i didnt alter my stats at all so the 'build' is like the equipment and stuff.#tbh thats probably why my damage with the bellum build suffered bc i have 10 faith and the blasphemous blade scales with faith #anyways listed all equipment and whatnot if anyone wanted the specifics of this stuff #im not great at like. putting together outfits in elden ring i figured out my tarnished's fit early on and stuck with it #theres a very good chance that my own playstyle and experience with the game influenced these like. i do not touch incantations for one #and ive been dual wielding since as soon as i figured it out and got two straight swords #iirc i briefly used rock sling bc you can get that really early but eh #thinking abt it now this also translates pretty well to traditional rpg party roles. standard link with all around decent stats but high #versatility and a lot of options. linebecks more speed and ailment-inflicting based. damien is high standard damage but a much more support #and healing based with a few basic standard damage spells. and bellum is more dedicated offense and defense with a focus on staying power #without any group support or other traits- just high offense high defense #if you wanna know what my tarnished looks like know this is inaccurate bc ive since tweaked her #the hp regen on bellums is wild when i cleared out gatefront like every few seconds id heard the hp steal sound effect it was nuts #no notes on damiens his was was surprisingly easy to get a handle of and is great with crowds #you can probably tell from the way this is written that it took me fucking forever to write up

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yostresswritinggirl · 4 years ago

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request for your event? you being klee's older sibling and having to look after her, but when no one's around you're just as mischievous as her :))

It is time to give love to the cutest child in the game, the chaos incarnate herself skdbslbwka I always love these types of scenarios, and with a lot of material available, I went haywire sksksks

Geronimo!

Snippets of angst here and there, but Klee always makes things better! (masterlist)

Responsible, reliable, strong.

Strength seems to run in your family, as well the familiarity with the element of Pyro. Ever since your mother Alice left to venture into the world after the appearance of Albedo, things had been busier and tiring on your end.

You had to fend for you and Klee outside of the little pension the Knights provide. Unlike Klee and Alice, you were no Knight of Favonius, just a normal citizen that does commissions for the Adventurer's Guild while delving into whatever your heart desires. Because of your lack of connection, most of the income you get are from your own work and the bits of mora your mother has left in your care. Your Spark Knight little sister is well in the hands of the Knights, all accommodation handled by them.

A lot of the Knights and even citizens are quite fond of her anyways, and so in multiple care she's not neglected the slightest.

Your mind is at ease knowing that your sister is enjoying a comfortable life while you deal with the loss of a parental figure in silence.

One night as you slip in next to your little sister in her room within the headquarters, the room your mother had occupied before she left, Klee begged you in her half-conscious state to spend the day with her tomorrow even if just for the afternoon. Klee was no spoiled child, she barely asks for anything nor forces others to do her bidding, and this desperation of hers had you crumble as you agreed.

That night you felt more tired than usual. Questioning to yourself, 'have you been neglecting the last family you had?'

Jean felt more than relief when she heard that you'd taking Klee under your care for the day, offering your deepest apologies and gratitude for continuing to look after her in your place. But as Jean waves you two goodbye, she was naive to the chaos she had allowed to come together.

Instead of skipping commissions like you had planned, under the coaxing of your sister, you ended up doing them with her. "It would be fun, Klee will be good and help out too!" And she did, especially when it comes to disposing the creatures around the city.

You watched a Hilichurl fly up from a huge explosion, body spread out as it disappears behind a line of trees in the background. When you looked back down after the smoke disperses, there's a huge crater in the middle of the Hilichurl camp and many unconscious Hilichurls in general.

"Let me try it too!" "Yeeey, go, big sibling!" Picking up one of her smaller bombs she'd laid out on the ground for easy access, you pulled out your bow and hanged the bomb by its head with a piece of string.

"Do a spin, a 360!" "Whatever my sister wants," you started as you started shifting your body in a turn, arrow and string pulled back and ready for release, "Sheeee gets!" When you saw the familiar view of the camp, you angled your shot slightly upwards and released, arrow piercing through the air before immediately turning downward with the weight of the bomb.

You two looked over the cliff to watch the fire show below, arm wrapped around her form to make sure she doesn't fall, as the supposed tiny bomb produced a huge mushroom cloud that sent a gale of black smoke up to where you two watched.

"That was so cool!" "So cool!" You gave your sister a high five, both of your hair disheveled from the force with ashes littered all over your body.

Gliding down the cliff, you didn't give the charred camp much attention as you two sped past to your next commission.

Once you'd went with her to a faraway river when she said she wanted some fish toast. Not wanting her to use her bomb and cause some kind of fish extinction in Mondstadt, you eagerly jumped in the pond after discarding some of your important items and outer clothing, an arrow in hand as you chased and stab the bigger fish.

"Wah, big sis/bro! Behind you! A green scary fish is about to bite you!" "A what now?!"

After you turned, you've ended up wrestling against the jaws of a giant crocodile that strayed into the stream. It took a few minutes before Klee finally stepped in with her Pyro catalyst.

You swimmed a little more to wash away the ashes, cleaning up your sister's face with a wet cloth too from the earlier Hilichurl extermination.

You're not as popular or in the limelight as your sister, many Mondstadtians only ever know you as a simple citizens who deals with commissions, and so very few (select few knights too) know of your connections with the Spark Knight.

When Klee isn't rambling about her bombs, confinement or Albedo, she likes to brag about you. The best and hardworking family, always responsible and witty that you manage to get away with anything. She proudly announces she wants to be as smart as you too, both clauses somehow sending worry to the Knights in fear of Klee and whatever you're capable of.

Despite your respectful smiles and composed appearance, your energy and genius stems from your unhinged mother. The best and worst part about it tho, is that you don't need to report to any higher ups about your experimentations and findings.

"If we lure in a Cryo slime here," you said with a gesture to the net set up by the catapult, "this catapult would sling it over to the field fire the whopperflower made!"

"Do you get it?" "Yes, yes! Klee will deliver a nice and big Cryo slime!" You watched as she took off with that cute run of hers, and not even a minute passes that she comes running back over the slope-

"That's one- two, three, four- five?! KLEE WE ONLY NEEDED ONE SLIME- AHHHHH!"

An adult and a baby Cryo slime got caught in the net which immediately triggered the catapult's mechanism. In the distance you watched them bounce off the flames, also effectively crushing the flower itself under their weight.

Leaving you two to deal with remaining slimes, which was easy with your precise shots and Klee's destructive power. You two escaped death with a few bruises from the bouncing abominations, your catapult broken amidst the encounter.

"(Y/N) is the best big sibling I could ever have! So fun to play with especially! Even if Klee misses them a lot, Klee knows that they're doing it for the best!" Kaeya and Jean awed at the way Klee speaks so fondly of you after getting cleaned up for rest, while you showered during this time in her room's bath. "Klee wants to be as cool as them!"

"What's this?" You emerged from the doorway with a towel around your shoulder, your appearance causing your little sister to jump down from Kaeya's arms to run into yours. "You little mischief, sneaking out of the room to disturb the Acting Grand Master and the Captain!"

"I wanted to talk to them about how fun and cool you are!" Klee giggled when you booped noses, the two older figures in the room chuckling fondly at the sweet scene.

"Perhaps you could look into joining our ranks? There's always a room for you in the Knights, someone as reliable as you would be helpful in protecting Mondstadt," Jean's smile echoes through her words of offer as she looks at you inquisitively, making you gulp at the idea.

You wanted to refuse, for many, many reasons really. But Klee's bright, wide eyes at the thought of finally being in the same place as you for possibly 24/7, tells you you couldn't really refuse.

It was only three months after being a knight that Jean finally realized the deep and ashen crater by Starsnatch Cliff was created by you and Klee's combined efforts. She stares warily as she sees your form pass by the cracked open door to her office, Klee towed behind you as you walk hand in hand with big smiles.

Mondstadt's walls shook that day.

Klee is actually my little sister's favorite character in Genshin. I was tempted to merge this with another ask, but no, I must hold myself.

@moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan @creation-magician @hanniejji @gojos-baby @just-some-stars @volleybloop

#genshin impact x reader #klee x reader #genshin impact #exile.goblet #exile.flower #fluff #domestic #sojourner specials #gender neutral #please #Alice give your child some loving

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zodiakuroo · 4 years ago

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Cupid’s Bullet

Dabi comes home with a very special Valentine’s Day surprise for you.

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Contains: dubcon/noncon, mentions of death, unhealthy relationship, gun play, fear play, forced orgasms, squirting, mindbreak, angst (if you squint?), quirk usage, one slap but it’s a hard one :3, overstimulation, creampie

Word count: 5.3k

Notes: pls this title is so cringe but it's like bullet instead of arrow cause... ya know but anyways happy valentine’s day from scumbag boyfie!dabi

Dating a villain meant that your relationship was unconventional to say the least. For one, public dates were out of the question, unless you wanted it to end in destruction of public property and some scorched heroes. You also always had to have some kind of flimsy excuse for your family and friends when they asked to meet your elusive boyfriend. In addition, you had to accept the fact that he would have to disappear sometimes for weeks on end to do his boss’ bidding.

There was also the small matter of arson, murder and theft and a multitude of other crimes that you’d prefer not to know about. And while you weren’t necessarily okay with a lot of what Dabi did, you loved him. You loved him so much that turning a blind eye was so easy it made you question your own morality. He didn’t scare you either. Not in the slightest, because you knew in his own special way, he loved you too.

In fact it ran much deeper than that. On his worst days, Dabi could set the world ablaze until nothing was left because in the end he didn’t care about anyone or anything, not even himself. Until he met you, he says. He tells you that in you, he’s found something to tether him to this existence.

Ok so maybe he didn’t use those words exactly, but he doesn’t have to. You know that’s what he means when he spoils you with expensive, stolen clothes and jewellery, when he offers to burn alive any person who makes you even the tiniest bit upset and when he comes home to you bloodied and beaten, trusting you to take care of him.

In summary, your relationship forced you to give up on having any “normal couple” experiences. That included, celebrating anniversaries and silly holidays like Valentine’s Day so you never bothered to keep track of them. It could hardly be considered a sacrifice when you compared those things to what you actually got from your relationship.

Dabi had been gone for close to a month now and you didn’t expect him back anytime soon, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. In fact the very last thing you expected was for him to creep into your bedroom in the middle of night and rouse you from your peaceful sleep with a soft kiss on your temple.

You don’t jump out of bed in a panic, like any sane person would. Instead you let out a satisfied hum, surrounded by the scent of burnt flesh, ash and menthol, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. It should be unpleasant but its Dabi’s scent and you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him. You pick your phone up from your night stand, squinting your eyes at the bright light that makes them sting.

Sunday 14 February, 2:43am

“Welcome home.” You mumble groggily, trying your best to fight off your tired body urging you to go back to sleep.

Instead of replying, he greets you by pressing his mouth to yours. You let out a quiet gasp, startled by the sudden display of affection. His lips are chapped but that doesn’t matter, your tongue darts out to moisten them before your lips lock into a gentle kiss.

You reach up, weaving your hands through his dark hair in an attempt to draw him closer but he retreats, opting instead to turn on the bedside lamp but keeping his other hand behind his back. “Sit up doll. Got a surprise for ya.”

Any thoughts of sleep were long forgotten as soon as his lips met yours but now he’s really piqued your interest. You push yourself up against the headboard and sit cross-legged. You look up at Dabi expectantly. Your boyfriend is smiling wide, skin pulled so taut you think one of his staples might give out. He reveals to you what he has hidden behind his back. A square black box, wrapped in a cobalt satin ribbon.

It’s so cliché you can’t help but let out a small snort. “What is it?”

“It’s a gift. You know… for Valentine’s Day?” He says as though it should be obvious to you.

Your heart swells at the gesture. It really was a surprise. Not in a bad way, you just knew he wasn’t your average boyfriend and that was okay. You didn’t want him to be.

“Well now I feel awful. I didn’t get you anything.” You pout as he props the box onto your lap.

“’S like a toy… so it’s technically for you but kinda for both of us.” It’s unusual to see Dabi this excited. The way he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes filled with mirth makes you all the more curious.

“Like a sex toy?” A giggle escapes you as you undo the bow.

“Are we playing fuckin’ 20 questions? Just open it.” He presses you.

You huff at his impatience but you don’t comment, not wanting to wait any longer either. You remove the lid of the box only to find something wildly unexpected.

A revolver?

You look up at your boyfriend with confusion etched on your face but his gleeful grin doesn’t falter. You’ve never seen a sex toy like this so you pick up the article to test its weight. It’s definitely the real deal.

“Dabi, this isn’t a toy.” You state matter-of-factly.

He merely rolls his eyes and says “Doll, when you can incinerate someone with a flick of your wrist, that little thing is definitely considered a toy?”

“O-okay? What do you want to do with it?” You ask, placing offending object onto your nightstand, not really wanting to hold on to it anymore, the metallic smell making you feel queasy.

“Ever heard of Russian Roulette?” Dabi, picks up the abandoned item, looking down at it with pride.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows as nervousness starts to creep into your system and you instinctively move to back away from him but Dabi is quick to pull you back.

“It’s real easy doll. No need to look so scared.” He crawls on top of you, caging you in with his limbs. “6 chambers. 1 bullet. All you have to do is be a good girl for me. If not, I pull the trigger and we see what happens.”

The look on his face is positively demented. Azure eyes wide and bright, patchwork face contorted into a a sinister smile, white teeth and silver staples gleaming in the dim light.

“Baby,” you hope the pet name will placate him. It usually does. “I don’t know about thi-“

CLICK

You let out a shriek as your body jolts in fear but you’re unable to move with his weight pressing on top of you.

“You see now doll?” He clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “You’ve gone and wasted a shot.”

Dabi climbs off of you and you’re left lying there with your heart hammering violently in your chest, body trembling, still reeling from the shock of what just happened. Reeling from the shock of what is happening

“You gonna listen now? Gonna be good?” Dabi prompts, rolling the gun around in his hand.

All you can do is nod as your eyes being to water. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only grows worse as your mind races with the possible things Dabi has in store for you.

“Good. Now strip.” He command and like a good girl, you obey.

Your arms feel like they’re made of lead, moving rigidly to take off your shirt (one of Dabi’s old ones). You can’t stop the tears from falling as you pull down your panties, fat droplets roll down your cheeks, desperately trying to swallow the sounds of your sobbing.

This can’t be happening. It’s Dabi. He wouldn’t hurt you. He promised you that.

“Oh cut the fuckin’ waterworks.” He snaps. “As long as you listen, you’ll be fine.”

You try to calm yourself with deep breaths, not wanting to irritate him any further.

When you turn to face him, he’s leaning back on his haunches, one hand resting on his thigh, the other lazily gripping the revolver. “Fair warning, I’m more of a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kinda guy. But you know that already.” He thumbs the cylinder, making it spin. “Now, touch yourself for me.”

Breathing is difficult. No matter how much you try, it’s like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Thinking only of gun in your boyfriend’s hand, you still you bring your own hand between your legs, but you can’t concentrate, what with the dread taking over your body making it tough to have any control of your body. Your movements are stiff and apparently not up to Dabi’s standards.

He only scoffs before-

CLICK

You scream again, body nearly flying off the bed before you curl yourself up into a ball. The fright is enough to stop your heart. For a second you believe it has.

“Doll,” Dabi’s gruff voice brings you back to earth, reminding you that you’re very much alive and whether or not you stay that way is entirely up to him. “You’re ruining my surprise. Got it ‘specially for you and now you’re being a brat.” He quirks an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge.

“So-sorry.-“ your voice breaks. “I’ll be good.”

You’re still struggling to comprehend how any of this is real. You thought you knew him. You thought he loved you. And here he is, treating your life like it’s a game. You can’t help but think that this is your own fault. You thought you were above everyone else, the exception to your boyfriend’s villain behaviour.

“Yeah?” His voice drops to a whisper. “Then show me.” He challenges you. Dabi slips off his t-shirt and moves between your legs to get a better view, pressing on your knees to split them apart.

Self-preservation kicks in. There is one way out of this alive and that’s doing what he says. You spread yourself even wider, showing him all of you. Your hands, glide over your smooth thighs, kneading the pudgy flesh as you get closer and closer your sex, teasing yourself the way he would. Your fingers find your clit and just a little pressure makes your eyes melt shut. Probably for best anyway. It makes it easier to imagine anything but this. You drag those fingers through your delicate folds, letting out breathy sighs as heat begins to bloom between your thighs.

You pretend, its Dabi’s touch. In your mind’s eye you see the two of you, limbs tangled with Dabi on top, resting his forehead against yours. It’s one of those nights where he wants to go slow. So slow that the sensation of his cock dragging in and out of is you bordering on torturous. It’s one of those nights where he wants to lay his head on your chest, mouthing at your breasts, laving your nipples with his wet tongue while you tell him, in that sensual voice that you love him, that he’s perfect, that he’s yours. Because it’s one of those nights, where everything feels like too much for him and the only person that he really has on his side is you.

It’s not long before you’re leaking. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, there’s a voice chastising you for being so easy for him… even now. There’s almost no resistance as two of your fingers, press into your entrance. Your fingers are no match for Dabi’s, they never hit all those deep, hidden spots that make you see stars but still, you start to move them slowly, brushing your thumb over your clit every so often.

“Look at me.” You feel his breath waft over your pussy.

Eyelids fluttering open and you meet his gaze. It stuns you a little and your hands come to a standstill. He is handsome, breathtakingly so, even though he thinks you’re lying whenever you when you tell him that. The way he stares at you, with love and adoration in his eyes, it’s almost like the fantasy you were just imagining. Almost like the fantasy you’ve been living in this whole time. It’s enough to make you forget the situation you’re in. Then the muzzle of the gun is pressed to your clit, snapping you back to reality fast enough to give you whiplash.

“Fucking slut.” He growls and smacks your hand away from your pussy.

You jerk as he starts to move it the gun circles over your sensitive nub and then dipping down to your tight slit to gather up your juices.

“All those fuckin’ tears but look how wet you are.�� He says more to himself than you as he admires the way your slick leaves a sheen on the barrel. With his eyes trained directly on yours, his perfectly pink tongue pokes out to lick it clean, groaning at the taste.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapped around your legs, guiding them over his broad shoulders. He kisses you on your mons before his tongue begins greedily lapping at your hole. “Tastes so good doll.” He mutters with his nose pressed against your clit. He slips the wet muscle inside of you making you whine. You reflexively grab onto his black hair, tugging on the stands and he lets out a groan of approval. He moves up to your clit, circling it with his tongue before suckling on it. While he brushes just the tip of a finger over your cunt, making it clench around nothing while you desperately buck your hips, in an attempt to have it inside you.

The way he’s eating you out is almost romantic?

Or it would be, if it weren’t for the metal digging into your flesh.

“Doll,” He places a sloppy kiss on your clit, lighting dragging his teeth over the hood. “Want you to squirt for me.”

A lump forms in your throat. You can count on one hand the amount of times that has happened. You’re not sure of the odds that you’d be able to right now and it’s not a gamble you’re willing to take. “Dabi, I don’t think I can….”

CLICK

You thrash, screaming so loud it makes your throat burn.

Dabi still holds you open, keeping you in place. “I wasn’t asking.” He makes sure to maintain eye contact as he drops a fat glob of spit right on to your clit before diving face first into your cunt once again.

He pushes 2 of his long, lithe fingers into your tight entrance. It’s unexpected and you wince. He drags his right hand (the one holding the gun) up your torso, resting the muzzle underneath your breast, right over your racing heart. A reminder of what’s at stake. He envelopes your sensitive clit with his lips, moving his fingers in tandem with the suction. You’re consumed by desire as Dabi brings you so close to the edge.

“Dee-Deeper please.” Your pant out.

He smiles against your mound before complying with your request. “Right here?” His fingers press against that squishy patch deep inside you and your eyes roll back.

“Nnnggg yeah.” You’re barely able to mewl out. You dig your heels into his back and grind against his face, chasing your high. Dabi keeps hitting that spot with astonishing precision but you hold off for as long as you can, letting the pleasurable sensation build until the pressure in your core becomes unbearable. When it finally snaps because you can’t hold it anymore, your eyes squeeze shut, hands flying to his biceps and you dig your nails into the sinewy muscle. You gush around his fingers and all over his face. Dabi doesn’t move though, flicking your clit with his tongue repeatedly until you’re trembling and whimpering, pushing him away from your pussy. He finally relents, a pop echoing around the room as he lets go of you.

He gives you a predatory look, scared face and chest wet with the remnants of your orgasm. “You made such a mess baby but I’m glad you’re finally having fun.” He’s just as out of breath as you are but far more composed.

Your head is still fuzzy and limbs are still twitching but your boyfriend doesn’t let you recover. “C’mon, doll. My turn.” He begins to undo his belt, silver buckle clinking as he rushes to drag it through the loops of his jeans

You pull yourself on to all fours, now eye level with his crotch. He pulls down his pants and boxers in one go, his erection almost hitting you in the face.

“You’ve been lucky so far.” He taps the bulbous head of his cock on your lips, smearing your lips with the pre that dribbles out of it. “But I wouldn’t test it if I were you. Open.”

Your mouth is already watering at the sight of him. So long, thick and veiny. It’s disgusting actually, this Pavlovian response. He fucks you deeper, stretches you wider and makes you feel better than anyone ever had. You wonder briefly, if anyone ever could fuck you as good as Dabi.

You stick out your tongue and he slides himself between your lips, groaning as he pushes into your mouth, slowly, inch by inch. He fills your mouth completely and you shut your eyes, savouring the salty taste of him but you feel the muzzle press against your temple and making them shoot open. “Atta girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes.” He grunts as he plunges into your throat. You bob your head up and down his shaft, the hand at the back of your head setting a brutal pace. The room is filled with the sounds of you gagging and his hefty sac smacking against your chin.

“So good to me baby.” He tilts his head back, losing himself in the pleasure. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him while your saliva leaks out, dripping down his balls. Dabi is big and heavy, stretching you so wide and making you jaw ache from the weight of him. You’re already lightheaded from the lack of air, no matter how much you try breathing through your nose. You don’t dare to complain though.

He pulls out of your mouth slowly, stretching a string of saliva from the head of his dick to your tongue that’s hanging out of your mouth. You pant like a bitch attempting to catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time before he’s in your throat again, back to fucking your face.

“I love you so much. You love me?” He sounds so sweet, totally blissed out.

He stops thrusting and tilts your head up to look at him, blinking tear-clumped lashes. You try utter a ‘Yes, I love you.’ but with his shaft gagging you, it comes out all garbled. The muscles in your throat convulse around the deep intrusion. “You’d do anything for me right?” He asks, jabbing the muzzle even harder into your temple, finger resting lightly on the trigger. You nod, watching Dabi lose his composure bit by bit. “Yeah. That’s why you’re my girl.” He pushes himself even deeper inside you, making you finally take all of him, until your nose meets his pubic hair and holding you there. “Fuck.”

CLICK

“Hmmhhhhngggh” You squeal around him but you can’t pull off because of the grip he has on your scalp. When he lets you go you’re choking and coughing up a lewd mixture of spit and pre-cum.

“Wh- Why” You blubber, voice hoarse. You don’t understand. You were doing exactly what he asked. You were being good.

“Sorry baby. Felt so good, my finger slipped.” He doesn’t even try to hide his mischievous smirk. The fucker is definitely not sorry.

You want to beg him to stop this ridiculous game because you see now there’s no way you can win because Dabi doesn’t play fair.

He doesn’t give you the chance though, already shuffling off his bottoms all the way and propping himself up against the headboard. “C’mon pretty baby.” He tugs on your ankle. Wanna see you bounce on my dick.”

You clumsily position yourself atop his lap quickly, before you can even think about it. You know he doesn’t need a reason to pull that trigger but still, you don’t want to give him one.

He grinds his tip along your heat, piercings dragging across your clit over and over again. It’s something he does whenever you have sex, to rile you up. And just like all those other times, it’s working. Circumstances be damned. “Needa feel this hot little pussy. Give it to me doll.” He murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You nod as you lift yourself off of him to hover your dripping wet hole over his hard dick. You slowly squat down on onto him, the fat head stretching you out, burning with every inch you take. You mewl, making futile attempts to blink away tears. You get halfway before you have to stop, resting your hands on his shoulders trying to gain leverage. You’re outright crying now, wet droplets landing on Dabi’s chest.

“’S matter doll.”

I’m terrified. You yell in your head but stay silent, choosing to focus on relaxing your ever-tightening hole in order to take more of him.

“Oh, I know.” He coos, voice dripping with condescension. “’S too big for your tiny cunny.” He leans forward to kiss away the salty tears. “But you can take it. I know you can.” He cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with a calloused thumb. “You can do it for me”

You start to move slowly up and down, using gravity to force more of his monstrous cock inside you with shallow movements. You really are trying your best but that’s apparently not good enough for Dabi and he lets you know that by pressing the barrel of the gun into your stomach. You freeze, horrified, more tears start falling from your eyes. You open your mouth to beg him to just give you a little time. You’re trying.

“Quit being a baby and just take it.” He says before you even get the chance.

“I’m trying Dabi, please just-“

CLICK

He cuts off your plea. He’s not interested in your excuses.

The rotation of the cylinder sends vibrations through your abdomen. Amidst the shock, you release your grip on his shoulders and impale yourself on his shaft by mistake. The combination of the searing stretch and the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix is so overwhelming that you collapse forward, head falling on to your boyfriend’s chest. You feel the rumbles of his chuckles while he’s quite literally splitting you open.

“See? Knew you could. Just needed a little scare. Isn’t that right.” He rubs your back as if to comfort you. He lets out a low whistle. “But looks like you’re all out of chances doll. Now bounce.” He gives you a spank with an inhumanly warm hand, making you squeal and leaving your cheek tender.

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders again. Dabi’s sapphire eyes are practically glowing, daring you to be stupid enough to defy him one more time.

You pull off almost entirely, keeping just his tip inside of you, before spearing his shaft into you again.

“Good girl.” When he praises you with that raspy voice makes you keen and desperate for more of it.

His hand snakes its way up your torso to cup one of your breasts. Your back arches, pushing into his scorching hot touch, forgetting momentarily about his other hand and what he’s holding in it. He gropes your chest, tweaks and twists at your nipples, leaving red, inflamed hand prints in his wake. You’re practically delirious with pleasure, babbling out incoherent streams of his name along with “yes” and “more”. All the while, he murmurs praises about how good you are and how much he loves you. It’s confusing and you can’t process any of it.

“Who owns this perfect pussy?”

“Dabi. Fuck. Dabi.” Your tongue lolls out of your mouth in the most obscene way, drooling down your chin. Your plush walls pulse around him as he hits that sensitive spot every time you sink down on him.

“That’s right it’s all fuckin mine. My pretty baby.” Dabi’s eyes are focus on where your two bodies are connected watching the translucent ring of your cream appear and disappear as you ride him.

“Preeeettyyy.” You slur and he laughs at how fucked out you are, brain completely jumbled between the fear, the pain and the bliss all combined into ecstasy.

“Doll.” He groans. “I feel ya squeezin’ me. You gonna cum?”

He’s right. You nod as you feel that coil tightening again, threatening to snap at any second. The man finally starts putting in work, pounding into you every time you pull off of him. Dabi abandons the gun in favour of playing with your clit, rubbing quick sloppy circles. “Yeah? Gonna cream and gush around me? Want you to baby.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking, biting and licking while he assaults your sopping wet pussy. “C’mon doll, please.”

With that you orgasm. He grabs your hips pulling you flush against his thighs, fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips up into you until your high finally subsides.

He doesn’t let you catch your breath before he’s got the revolver pressed hard underneath your chin. “Now make me cum.” You almost collapse but the harsh grip he has on your hair suspends you upright.

Your mind is so foggy and Dabi gives you a small smile, appreciating the perplexed look in your droopy eyes. But he’s not done with you yet.

“Hey.” You’re ripped from your daze, when he slaps you across the face, sending your head swinging to the side. “Don’t pass out on me now.”

“So-sorry! ‘M sorry!” You grovel as you slam your tired body down on his dick once again, trying to ignore the throbbing on your cheek, the ringing in your ears, and the ache in your battered cunt. You’re so sensitive from your last orgasm but you don’t have a choice and you don’t dare deny him anything. Your thighs are quaking and burning with every movement but your boyfriend is unimpressed.

“You can do better than that doll.” He lets out a bitter laugh, enjoying every second of tormenting you. “It’s like you want your brains splattered on the ceiling.”

You start crying again, shaking your head frantically. In the time that you’ve been with Dabi, you’ve learned certain tricks, you know he likes it, but in this panic/lust induced frenzy, you can’t remember any of them. Instead, you bounce, mindlessly on him while your gummy walls clench tighter around him every time he nudges at your a-spot. Your legs are going numb from all the effort and you plop down, limp onto his lap, taking him to the hilt.

Dabi tsks at you, reminding you that you can’t rest just yet. You swivel your hips, grinding your pelvis against his while he’s buried deep in your wet heat. You pray to whatever deity is listening that he’s getting close, you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“If I don’t bust in the next 5 seconds.” His hand finds your clit again, you grind across his fingers has you rock against him. “Bang!” He emphasises the word by bringing a heated palm down on your ass.

A choked sob bubbles at the back of your throat, making him snicker

Hands pressed to his chest, you ride him like a woman possessed, the last bits of adrenaline kicking in. Your sloppy cunt squelches every time you drive yourself down on his cock just motivating you to fuck him harder.

“Five.” He grits out.

“Dabi, please!” But you’re met with icy, apathetic eyes staring back at you, feeling the terror that the rest of the city does when they so much as hear his name.

“Four.” He rubs your already raw clit, faster and you can feel another orgasm building, much quicker than your last two.

Your body feels so heavy but you can’t stop moving, not unless you want him to- “Please cum!” You beg. “Need your cum.”

“Three.”

He starts to fuck up into you again with unforgiving force.

“Wh-Why?!” is all you can manage as your mind starts to fog up again, the need to come becoming all the more urgent.

“Two.” He ignores your question, transfixed on your tits bounce in his face. You’re getting close to your third orgasm of the night and it seems Dabi is determined to get you there.

You still can’t believe this is real. You never thought that Dabi would treat you like this. You were supposed to be special.

Or at least that’s what he told you.

Moreover, you can’t believe how your own body is betraying you. You can’t believe you’re actually going to cum. Again.

“One.”

You cry out his name one last time, unsure if it’s out of fear or pleasure. You dig your nails into his arms again, in a feeble attempt to ground yourself as you cum around him. The orgasm that rips through you makes it difficult for you to be sure of anything.

What you are sure of is the fact that there was no bang or bullet.

Just one last CLICK (practically drowned out by your screaming) and the sensation of Dabi’s hot cum flooding your womb. He has a bruising grip on your hips, gun now discarded, and he ruts up into to making sure to stuff your cunt absolutely full of him. He begins to laugh as he softens inside you.

Your head is still spinning but once you’re able to push yourself off of him, you can finally make sense of what just happened.

He was fucking with you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell, using weak and quivering arms to throw pillows at him while you cry so hard it makes you dry heave.

Your asshole of a boyfriend starts cackling, clutching his abdomen as if he just pulled the world’s funniest prank while your heart is beating so hard and fast you think it might break through your ribcage.

“You should have seen your face. You were so fuckin’ scared.”

You become nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat as you come to a sickening realisation.

This is not your Dabi. This is the Dabi that the rest of the world gets to see.

Evil, sadistic, merciless. This is the real Dabi.

You attempt to scramble off of the bed to get away from him, feeling overwhelmed by the humiliation. But Dabi grabs your wrist and yanks you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms. A gesture you used to treasure but now it just made your skin crawl. “C’mon Doll you didn’t think I was being serious did you?”

You writhe in his hold, hitting against his hard, toned chest with pathetic fists. “Don’t be such a crybaby. It was just a joke.” He strokes your hair oh so tenderly. But you won’t fall for that again. Dabi is a villain through and through. You know that now.

It’s no use fighting him off though, all the fight in you is used up. You don’t know what else to do. So you do the easy thing: nuzzle your head into his chest, tremors rocking your body as you hiccup, while he holds you. That way you can pretend that you feel safe with him, just like you used to.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, doll. I love you.”

#dabi is just the worst huh #sorry about the angst i honestly don’t know how that happened #dark content #dark fic #mha smut #tw dubcon #bnha imagines #bnha smut #dabi imagine #dabi smut #dabi x reader #mha x reader #tw slapping #tw noncon #tw unhealthy relationship #tw gunplay #tw death mention

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ao3komorii · 4 years ago

Text

About Time (Timeskip Dimitri/Reader)

Decided to start transferring my works over, starting with my oldest oneshot from ao3 with Dimitri! It’s technically Dimileth since I like the Dimitri pairing from Byleth’s position, but it’s fully in 2nd person and I don’t use any names for Reader or anything.

This oneshot was entirely born from having a thought of “what if Dimitri accidentally saw Byleth’s boobs and then freaked out.” Also, this one is set after Dimitri comes out of his emo phase, but before the final battle in the BL route. Just a note, there is sex at the end. Enjoy :)

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You did not find yourself in over your head much anymore these days, but you also had a talent for finding new trouble.

You had been backed into a corner by multiple soldiers, and a horrible giant beast. The beast’s jaw opened slowly, revealing its gleaming teeth, dripping with a black substance as the soldiers by its side advanced, lances drawn and all pointed towards you. The Sword of the Creator at your side was growing weary, and you knew that it would not be enough to defeat the enemies in front of you.

You knew that your former students were on the battlefield somewhere, but you couldn’t see them beyond the great beast that caged you in by the wall. Either way, this was too dangerous a situation for them anyways. You could only hope they would stay away. Use the chance to escape while this creature feasted on your flesh and gnawed on your bones. You didn’t want to die, but you would not allow yourself to be the cause of any of your students’ deaths. It would break you. If anyone had to die, it should be you.

You held up your sword, ready to fight back, but the onslaught still overwhelmed you. You were able to quickly take out a few soldiers with the last remaining swipe of your mythic sword’s power before their lances got too close to you. You had no time to bask in your small victory as your sword refused to spring into action after your first swipe, only functioning as an average sword, and a dull one at that, as it lost all its power. And with its elongation use now locked away from you, you would only be able to defend yourself from close range.

This immediately proved deadly for you, as you swerved to avoid the creature’s teeth, but found yourself on the receiving end of an enemy’s lance as it sunk in and out of your shoulder. You screamed with pain and shock as you sunk down to your knees, dropping your sword to press a hand over your wound. It hurt so badly, and you looked up as a shadow loomed over you to see the monster and remaining soldiers all radiating with the satisfaction that they were about to snuff your life out. You couldn’t even gather the strength to pick your sword back up, the pain in your shoulder was too great. Even moving your hand sent unbearable jolts of pain up and down your arm. You could do nothing but watch, eyes drawn to the lance of the soldier that had stabbed you, what must be your blood dripping off the tip and onto the ground.

You felt all hope leave your mind as the abomination’s jaw opened wide, preparing to blast you with fire. Too weary to continue looking up, you turned your head down in defeat, hoping that your death would at least come fast. You heard a loud shout, but it was not enough to keep you from falling on your side, no strength left in your body to allow you to remain up. Your eyes slid closed, and death felt imminent.

You felt like you were fading, and the sounds around you faded along with your hazy consciousness. There were sounds of screams and horrible growls, but you didn’t know what they meant, and couldn’t really rationalize anything but the extreme pain you felt. There was so much screaming and so much pain. It was hard to even think at all.

“Professor!”

A voice broke through your haze at about the same time you felt the pain lessen by a small fraction. You heard your name called, with more insistency, and you felt annoyed. You just wanted the pain to end so you could sleep. The pain was so great that in that moment you didn’t mind dying if it would end the pain.

“If she falls unconscious, we won’t be able to save her!” You heard a soft-voiced woman assert.

“Professor!” the calls of your name and title got louder, and more insistent, and your forehead felt wet as one voice rang out louder than the rest. “Please, Professor, I can’t lose you too...”

The pain lessened a little more, becoming less all-encompassing, and you allowed your eyes to open. You found your vision blurry until a warmth took over the feeling of pain in your shoulder. A call of your name focused your attention directly above you.

Dimitri was crying. It was the first thing that struck you as you gazed up at him, tears freely flowing from his uncovered eye. His eye lit up when you looked at him, and you felt the world beneath you shift.

“Dimitri!” an airy voice angrily broke the quiet. “Don’t move!”

You were confused, and moved your head, unintentionally shifting your shoulder and sending a wave of pain through it as you went limp against Dimitri’s lap, where you found yourself realizing that your head was resting in. You closed your eyes tightly in response to the return of extreme pain, much worse than you had ever felt before.

“Professor, not you too! You must not move!” the woman insisted.

Your mind felt clearer once the pain faded again to a dull ache and the warm feeling took over. You realized at once who that voice was, and you opened your eyes to look at Mercedes, who was by your injured shoulder sending healing magic into the wound. That explained the familiar feeling that you couldn’t place. She met your gaze, unable to form her usual smile as she turned back to focusing on your wound. That confused you, and you turned your head ever so slightly to look at your injury without agitating it again.

You understood Mercedes’ current urgency. Your shoulder looked horrible. There was a large rip in the shoulder of your cloak, likely ripped further by Mercedes in an effort to get better access to the wound. There was so much blood, it matted the ripped fabric around your wound to your skin, making the area feel sticky.

Most worrying was the blood nearest to the wound, if it was even your blood, was bleeding an oily black. Mercedes wiped a hand over the wound, clearing it to reveal a patch of gray skin surrounding the stab wound.

“What is that?” Came Ashe’s panicked voice.

“The enemy’s lance was poisoned, clearly,” Felix stated with a short glance behind him.

You looked beyond where you were to realize that the area behind where you lay was covered in the bodies of the enemies that had just been closing in on you. The great beast was killed with no mercy, some of its limbs meters away from its actual body. You couldn’t stand to look at what was done to the Imperial soldiers; some with deep slashes, charred, or with arrows sticking out of their heads. It looked horrible, but not unusual for the battles you regularly faced.

“But poison couldn’t work this fast!” Annette protested.

“I’ve heard of weapons being enchanted with poison before,” Ashe explained.

“Enchanted with poison...” Dimitri echoed, expression tense. “What does it look like to you, Mercedes?”

Mercedes looked up from your wound to meet Dimitri’s eyes, but quickly looked back down. “Her wound isn’t responding to my magic. If we don’t do something, I fear she may die.”

Mercedes looked sad and scared, but Dimitri’s growl brought your attention back to him in an instant.

“There has to be something we can do to save her!” His desperate gaze morphed into one of hatred, one you thought you had seen the last of after Rodrigue’s death. “Tell me who I must kill and I will do it.”

“Spoken like a boar,” Felix interjected. “You think she has the time for you to go on a murderous rampage?”

“Felix...” Ingrid protested lowly and sadly.

“Then what would you have me do, Felix?” Dimitri replied, anger clear in his voice. “She is dying, you can’t expect us to do nothing!”

“I expect you not to-” Felix started.

“Stop it!” Annette cried. “You guys need to listen to Mercie!”

Mercedes nodded toward her best friend as Felix and Dimitri reluctantly went quiet. “There is one way to save her, but we will need everyone’s help.”

“Me and Mercie came up with a plan!” Annette smiled softly at Mercedes, expression belying a reluctant confidence. “Healing magic can’t touch it, but regular magic should be able to negate its effects enough for healing to work on it again!”

“And the only magic strong enough to fend off this dark poison is Annie’s fire,” Mercedes explained. “Annie will burn off the infection, and then I will heal the wound.”

“You want to burn her?” Sylvain implored, shocked. “I know she’s tough, but...”

“We don’t have the time to think of any other solution,” Ingrid said sadly, gesturing towards you. “Grey is spreading down her arm.”

Everyone’s eyes shot over to your arm, and you lazily swept your gaze over as well to see that the grey skin tone had travelled down your arm, halfway towards your elbow. The grey patches looked rough, and unlike any affliction you had ever seen before. You wondered if the Imperial army had been exploring darker methods to kill than simple weaponry and monsters. It didn’t surprise you, but you should have seen it coming.

“What do we do...?” Ashe asked quietly, as if he wasn’t ready to hear the answer.

“You all must hold her down while Annette burns the infection away,” Mercedes answered. “It will be very painful, but if she moves, she could get hurt, so you must keep her still.”

Dimitri looked torn as he brushed some stray hairs from your face. Even through the excruciating pain, the gesture embarrassed you. Dimitri looked to be mentally weighing options as a stray tear slipped from his chin to drop on your neck. The tear was a momentary relief, a distraction, but Mercedes couldn’t keep you from feeling all the pain in your shoulder, her healing magic seemingly less and less effective by the second as the pain began to grow stronger.

“Professor,” Dimitri said, trying but failing to keep emotion out of his voice. “What do you want us to do?”

You didn’t trust your ability to talk at the moment, and so you kept eye contact with him and nodded the best you could, which ended up being two slow rises and falls of your head. You could only hope that he understood what you were trying to say. He stared at you for a few seconds before he broke eye contact.

“Dedue, Felix, take her legs,” he instructed, and the two men moved quickly towards your lower half. “Ingrid, Sylvain, take an arm each.”

The four requested students each their place at one of your limbs, and Dimitri slowly let you out of his lap, your head now resting on the ground as he made his way over to Annette and Mercedes by your injured shoulder. “I will ensure she does not move her shoulders.”

“Um...” Ashe spoke up hesitantly. “It’s not much, but I brought along a book I’ve been reading, and she might need something to bite down on, so she doesn’t bite off her tongue.”

He offered the book to Dimitri, who accepted it gratefully, and with no choice, you bit down on it when Dimitri brought it to your mouth. You would have been embarrassed if you weren’t so anxious about the somehow worse pain to come. At Dimitri’s signal, your legs and arms were restrained, ensuring that you could not move them at all. When he checked that everyone had a secure hold on you, Dimitri put one hand on your uninjured shoulder, and one on your upper chest, just above your breasts. His head was just above yours, his long hair tickling your cheeks.

“Just keep looking at me,” he whispered, voice then rising in volume. “Annette, now.”

Annette didn’t reply, but she didn’t have to. Seconds after Dimitri’s words, you felt the worst pain you have ever felt in your entire life, putting the extreme pain from before to shame. You wanted to scream, but you knew you shouldn’t, even in your haze of pain. You just bit down on the book as hard as you could to compensate. Someone held one of your hands and you squeezed their hand as hard as you could, which must have been painful, but they didn’t pull away or let go of your hand.

A whisper of your name had you looking back up to Dimitri’s face. He looked fairly upset, but the intense levels of pain you were experiencing kept you from being able to reassure him. He smiled, a clearly forced smile, but didn’t look away from you at all, which gave you no insight into how it was going with your shoulder aside from the momentous pain, which was so hot that it now felt cold. The pain was so white hot that you had to close your eyes, teeth digging into the book’s cover.

“You’ll be alright, professor,” Dimitri said quietly. “We can’t lose you.”

You knew that your students would be destroyed if you died here. You knew that they would all fall apart. So you endured the pain quietly, you had no other choice. You couldn’t leave them alone after all you had all been through. You tried to stay still, but suddenly the brutal pain increased tenfold. You screamed around the book, trying to thrash your limbs, but your students remained steadfast, restricting your movement.

“Annette!” Dimitri barked, taking his gaze from you but not his hands, which kept you pressed down.

“I’m sorry, it’s... it’s fighting against my magic! Professor, I’m so sorry!” she replied tearfully.

“We have to keep going, Annie,” Mercedes’ voice broke through the panic. “She has no chance if we don’t keep trying!”

With that, the incredible pain returned, and you once again regained the unpleasant taste of the book cover in your mouth as your teeth sank into the dents you had made previously. Everyone was so quiet while Annette and Mercedes worked that you could hear everyone’s breathing, and Dimitri sounded close to hyperventilating with how heavy his breaths sounded. You looked up at him, but he was looking over at your injury, not at you. He looked like he was about to cry again, and it being due to your strategic negligence was weighing on you at the moment.

He wouldn’t look at you and looked openly panicked. You thought he would eventually feel your eyes on him, but he didn’t. He just continued to stare at the work being done on your shoulder, which you couldn’t see yourself because Mercedes and Annette blocked your sight of it entirely. You were getting used to the horrific pain at this point, so you managed to remain still. Maybe Sothis helped with your pain tolerance, since you knew that even with the pain levels you had experienced in your life, an average person could not possibly remain as still as you were able to during this kind of a procedure.

“Mercie!” Annette cried.

At once, the burning started to fade, as the familiar feeling of Mercedes’ magic took over, engulfing your shoulder in a light so bright that you turned your head away from it and closed your eyes. There were gasps and murmured words all around you and all at once you had a range of movement in your limbs again as everyone released their tight holds on you. Dimitri, however, kept his hands where they were, and you assumed he would wait until he knew that you would be okay.

Annette and Mercedes finally backed up from your sider, allowing you a glance at your shoulder. There was nothing, not even a scratch, or the third-degree burns you were expecting from the fire magic. The grey patches of skin had receded entirely with Annette’s eradication of the strange poison magic. You were in awe of Mercedes’ magic, but you were far from the only one who was.

“Remind me not to get too far away from you on the battlefield, Mercedes!” Sylvain joked.

Sylvain’s words brought Dimitri out of his stupor and he finally released his hold on you as you reached a hand up to remove the now soggy and dented book from your mouth. You weren’t sure what to do with it since Ashe would clearly not want it back now.

You sat up as everyone else began standing up, your muscles screaming in protest. From the pain that riddled your shoulder from all that had been done to it to the soreness in your limbs from being held down by people who put all of their strength into keeping you still, you were in pain, but not deathly pain. You waved off the chorus of worried voices asking if you were okay; you were just sore, not dying!

Ignoring their protests, you slowly stood up, only for an arm to slide around your waist. Ready to scold Sylvain for choosing now of all times to flirt, you looked over to see a stubborn Dimitri gazing back at you, frowning with concern. It wasn’t like he had no caring before you were able to bring him out of his ten-year thirst for revenge, but he almost went overboard with how much he showed that everyone mattered to him now. And with that knowledge, you knew you weren’t about to win whatever argument he was about to start about your safety.

“Be careful, Professor!” he chided, refusing to let go of your waist even as were found you were able to stand properly. Not without soreness, but properly enough. “You can ride back to the monastery with me.”

You could walk just fine... probably. Your hesitation to accept must have shown on your face, because it started another bickering war.

“She’s fine without you being a mother hen,” Felix stated dryly.

“Felix!” Dimitri admonished, not removing his hold on you. “She was barely alive moments ago, and you want her to walk all the way back to the monastery?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, her shoulder is fine. Do you think she wants you to baby her when she spent months trying to get you to behave like a person and not an animal?” Felix retorted.

You would rather try to walk, to help preserve your pride, but you didn’t have the chance to speak up before the two started fighting. You weren’t sure how to break up this fight before it got worse, but luckily it was resolved for you.

“And you two think arguing about this is going to make her feel better?” Ingrid said angrily, making her way over to you. “She will ride back with me.”

Felix scoffed and turned away, while Dimitri went silent, allowing Ingrid to put your arm around her neck as she led you over to her waiting pegasus. You would have time to thank everyone for their help later. The whole experience and then the arguing had tired you out, and you just wanted to rest. So you got on the pegasus ahead of Ingrid and allowed her to take you back to the monastery, where you could get some sleep and recover.

You were pushing yourself too hard and you knew it. You were still unhappy with how you had fared in the battle with Imperial troops a week before.

And here you were, a few days later, training in the rain in the forest just outside the monastery. You had been swarmed by the students worrying about you, and your sword hand was itching to get back into practice. Nobody would agree to train with you due to your being in recovery, and Dimitri had insisted that you rest immediately, somehow even more protective of you than he had been when you were actually injured. You understood their worry, but it was getting tiring being told to rest, so you went to practice outside of the monastery to avoid everyone’s worry.

Just your luck that it was raining, but there were battles still to be fought, so you couldn’t slack on your training. You were going stir crazy, and so you found a dead tree and began practice. The dead tree was considerably more dead looking several hours later, now bearing many stabs and slashes across it. You finally took a break and sat against the tree, surrounded by bark that littered the ground around you, dislodged from your training.

You swiped a hand under your bangs with disgust. You hadn’t realized how sweaty you had gotten, but it felt nice to do some solo training the way you used to before you became a teacher. You were tired but felt assured that you were maintaining your sword skills even after sustaining such an injury. The rain was pouring even harder now, though you hadn’t noticed until you took a break. It must have been evening now, but with the harsh weather, it was hard for you to tell at all. The rain didn’t bother you, so you continued to lean against the tree, clothes totally soaked, but feeling at peace in that moment.

You knew you couldn’t stay out there forever, and so you finally sheathed your sword and stood up. Casting one last glance at the dead and beaten tree, you set back off towards the monastery. Nobody else was outside due to the awful rain, and even the merchants had temporarily closed shop. The gatekeeper, determined to do his job regardless of weather, was just under the archway and greeted you with surprise, noting your soaking wet form. You gave him a smile and reassured him that you were alright, and then continued on your way back to your room to rest for the night.

Your route back to your room took you through the entryway where you were greeted by various students and members of the church alike, who all noticed your current condition. You walked by them with a smile, brushing off their questions, until you passed by Dedue, who was just outside the dining hall. Or you tried to, as he casually stepped in your way, causing you to stop short to avoid bumping into him. You looked up at him, confused.

“Professor,” he greeted. “Are you alright?”

You nodded, not sure where this was going as you went to go into the dining hall, and he moved to block your way again. “His Highness has been looking for you.”

“...why?” you asked. You had seen Dimitri earlier, so what had happened in the past few hours that he needed you for?

“No one has been able to find you for the past eight hours,” Dedue answered. “His Highness is worried.”

Past eight hours? It had only been a few hours... at least, that was what you had thought. You had been told before that you got really focused when you trained, but you didn’t think you had taken four hours, let alone double that time!

You thanked Dedue for the information, and he only moved out of your way when you agreed that you would go meet Dimitri immediately outside your room, where Dedue told you the king had decided to wait for your return. Heaving a mental sigh, you crossed through the crowd of people getting a late dinner and made your way to your room. Just getting to the block of rooms, you noticed the broad figure with unruly blonde hair right where Dedue said he would be. Looking at his figure, you remembered your initial shock at his transformation, but it had been overpowered at the time with relief that he was still alive after five years of war. As if he could hear your footsteps over the sound of the rain, he turned his head to face you as you made your way over to him.

“Professor... where were you?” he asked, and you couldn’t think of what to reply, so he pressed onward. “You think me reckless, but you go out to train in the pouring rain when you are not yet fully recovered?”

You were surprised; how did he know? You must have looked startled because his serious expression melted away with a genuine laugh as he reached a hand out to brush along your hair, or so you thought. He brought his hand away from your hair to show you and you stared at the twig that he held in his hand, the bark of the twig rotten and dead, much like the tree it had come from.

“I can’t think of any other activities you would do in the rain with your sword at your side and end up with this twig in your hair,” he remarked. “You know, it usually is the professor that lectures their students about working too hard.”

“You haven’t been my student in a long time,” you mused.

“You may not be officially our professor, but we all rely on you for so much,” he replied thoughtfully. “You cannot expect us to not worry when our professor works herself to the point where she is liable to pass out from exhaustion in the woods without telling anyone where she has gone.”

You immediately felt sheepish. He really had you there. You wouldn’t be able to face them if you had been abducted or killed when you had told nobody where you were going or what you were doing.

“Please don’t look like that,” he implored you. “I am not mad. We just don’t want anything to happen to our favorite professor.”

It seemed like they would all keep calling you professor, even though you were all equals now. You had some really stubborn former students, you mused with a smile. Dimitri then reluctantly allowed you off the hook so you could get some rest. You both said your goodnights as you went into your room and Dimitri left for his. As you stripped yourself of your heavy, wet cloak and armor and climbed into your bed, you resolved to be a little less reckless with your training. You also wondered how long you could keep such a promise in times such as this.

It was hot. So hot. It was all that consumed your mind and body. Suddenly you realized that you had woken up. And you were only wearing a top and shorts, but you were burning up. With a groan, you assessed the situation. You felt sluggish, and so, so warm. Your throat felt sore and sitting up in your bed made you feel nauseous, so you quickly laid back down. You had to face facts; you were clearly sick.

You knew it had to be the rain. You were outside in the rain for eight hours and overexerted yourself. The combination was a bad idea, but unfortunately you did not see it like that at the time, so here you were. Sick and feeling miserable, unable to get out of bed for fear of throwing up. You didn’t even know what time it was, but you knew that being awake was doing you no favors. You didn’t feel like being awake in this state anyways, so you had only one choice. Gardening and tea parties would have to wait until you didn’t feel like you had just drank poison.

The feverish heat you felt kept you from sleeping however, which made you even more miserable. Feverish and now irritated that you couldn’t get to sleep, you decided to just remove your top and chest wrappings, your shorts taken off as well for good measure. You had never slept in just your underwear at the monastery before for fear of someone barging in your room without knocking, but at this point you didn’t care. Seteth’s lectures about propriety be damned. You just wanted to be less overwhelmingly warm, and so you laid back down in just your underwear, not bothering to put the blanket back on and curling up in the hopes that sleep would finally come.

“I’ve had that one before! Remember when we had that visiting professor at the sorcery school? I think she made these for us!” Annette exclaimed excitedly.

Mercedes nodded as she flipped the page of the new sweets book they had purchased at the market, and they both stared curiously at the next page.

“Ooh, I always wanted to make some of those!” Annette said, pointing at the colorful pastries that were illustrated on the page.

“Me too, Annie! We really should make some to share with everyone,” Mercedes replied.

Their excited chatter was interrupted as Dimitri strode by their table in the dining room for what Annette estimated was likely the fifteenth time that day. He had hardly eaten what would be considered a basic nutritional amount of dinner before he resumed his cycles around the monastery.

“Dimitri!” Annette called out to him as he was about to pass them to leave the dining hall, and he stopped in front of them. “ Mercie and I were thinking of making some sweets and having a little party with everyone!”

Dimitri seemed distracted as he responded. “Oh, Annette... that would be...”

“Are you alright, Dimitri?” Mercedes interjected. “You look like you have something on your mind.”

“Oh...” Dimitri replied stiffly, coming out of his thoughts for a moment. “Has the professor been by here?”

“No,” Mercedes shook her head. “I haven’t seen her all day.”

“Is she okay? Do you want us to help look for her?” Annette pressed, sweets book all but forgotten in worry.

“She should be fine...” Dimitri trailed off. “Sorry for bothering you both, your idea sounds wonderful.”

And before either woman could protest, Dimitri exited the dining hall in a hurry, not even glancing behind him, cape fluttering with his movement. Mercedes and Annette could only watch in a haze of confusion and concern, their questions unanswered.

If you were out training in secret again after overworking yourself in the rain the previous day... no, Dimitri dismissed the thought. He had already looked in the forest and located the tree that you had cut to ribbons the day before. You could have gone farther into the forest, but he thought that unlikely as well. You had seemed regretful when the two of you had spoken at your door the night before, and he thought it unlikely that you would immediately break a promise to him, especially after he had told you how much you and your health mattered to all of them.

It occurred to him just then that he had neglected to check your room. It should have been the first place he checked, but it had slipped his mind. He would have to go check now. You may have decided to relax in your room for the day, and then he would have been worrying for nothing. Although he knew that you had a healthy appetite, but nobody had seen you in the dining hall at all, which was very strange.

There was nobody at the dorms, or if they were, they must have been inside their rooms. Dimitri was able to arrive at your door with no hassle, but he couldn’t hear any sounds from inside. He knocked politely, but to no response at all.

“Professor?” he called out as he knocked again, louder this time.

There was still no reply, which vexed him. If you didn’t want to see anyone, you would have replied to inform him of that. Which left only one thought running wild in his mind; you must have gone out to train and been injured. Or been injured yesterday and were now in too bad or a state to even talk. Once the thought entered his mind, he was consumed with worry. Reaching out and finding the door locked, he did not spare any thought before he slammed his shoulder into the door, bursting open the lock. Without a moment to spare, he thrust open the door and rushed into your room.

“Professor-” Dimitri exclaimed, but his eye widened in shock as he took in the scene in front of him.

The room looked fairly normal , a similar state of cleanliness to what it had been the last time he had visited you here for tea. Your blanket was half draped on the end of the bed and half on the floor, but none of your sparse belongings were out of place.

Dimitri found you immediately, and his cheeks immediately felt hot. You did not appear to be injured, and he was easily able to discern this because of your lack of clothes. You were curled up on your bed... in only your smallclothes. Dimitri’s mind went blank as his focus was drawn to your bare breasts. He didn’t know what to do, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He knew what breasts looked like, but he couldn’t remember seeing any bare but yours at this exact moment. He was transfixed, even though every instinct of his was telling him he had to look away, to protect your modesty.

And then you moaned and brought him out of his stupor. Now that he thought about it, you did not look very well. Still unsure if he was making the right decision, he closed the door behind him before making his way over to you. He removed a glove and placed his hand on your forehead, having his suspicions confirmed. You were burning up, clearly sick from training in the rain for so long the day before. He presumed that you had not left your room the entire day, which did not seem good, considering you must have spent the entire day unconscious and fevered.

He wanted to cover you up, for the sake of his waning composure, but you didn’t have the time for that and he didn’t want to overheat you further. He would have to try to disregard his embarrassment for the moment, because you needed his help, and he didn’t know how to explain to one of the women around the monastery that he had busted down your door and found you nearly naked. And you would never forgive him if he had others see you compromised like this. It was already bad enough that he had seen you like this.

He quietly left your room, glancing around to confirm that nobody was around to see him coming and going from your room so late. It was a cold night, but it did nothing to calm him down at all. Your body was beautiful, and he couldn’t get it out of his mind as he fetched a small bucket of water and a cloth before returning to your room. He mentally braced himself before opening the door to find you in pretty much the same position you had been in, laying on your back.

Prioritizing his worry for you over his shyness, he closed the door gently behind him and walked over to your bedside. He carefully wet the cloth, wringing some of the excess water out before moving your bangs to the side and placing the cloth on your forehead. You exhaled loudly but evenly in your sleep, which he took to be a positive sign.

He ended up not getting a lot of sleep that night. He stayed in your room for quite a while into the early hours of the morning, dunking the cloth in the cold water again whenever it began to be overcome by your body temperature. He never felt his lack of sleep at all, practice, he assumed, from all of his sleepless nights spent longing for revenge. He had never slept as well as he had since he had allowed himself to be free of the burdens of his dead loved ones. Not free from his obligations to them, but now he would channel his resolve into freeing Fódlan from Edelgard’s tyranny as opposed to the mindless bloodshed that he had surrounded himself with for the majority of the past five years.

You were such a comfort to him, one he thought he had lost a long time ago. You had supported him and been by his side, and he was too consumed to appreciate it until after he lost Rodrigue. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Not with you and all of his former classmates and friends surrounding him. They did not want him to be consumed and lost to revenge, and now he understood that the dead did not want that either. But he was not free from the choices he knew he would have to make soon, it was something that weighed on his mind. He did not want to kill his stepsister, but as he went to wet the cloth again, he was glad you would be with him when he made that decision. He needed your support, and he resolved to support you as well as he could, especially given your recent hobby of being reckless with your own health and safety.

Feeling your forehead, he was relieved to discover that your fever had finally broken. You may not have been fully healthy again, but if you were at least a normal temperature now, then he knew that he had done his job. You were still nearly naked though, and he would likely be an unwelcome sight when you woke up, and so he took the cloth and bucket and stood up. Better that you did not know he had been here; it would spare at least you of the embarrassment. But as he quickly fixed the lock back into place before opening the door and closing it behind him, he knew it would be a difficult feat to erase the sight of your uncovered body from his mind any time soon. You were so pretty, and it was all he could think about the entire way back to his room.

You woke up slowly, eyes still closed but aware that you were now awake. Your middle of the night wakeup felt almost like a dream compared to how you felt now. You felt somewhat bad still, your throat not fully better and limbs still feeling a bit heavy, but the incredible fever you had felt earlier had all but faded. You must have really been doing poorly, because a glance outside the window told you that it was morning.

You supposed that you might as well get up; there was no way to assuage worry except going to interact with everyone. You would feel better eventually. You knew that the students would worry about you. Getting up and checking with your calendar, you discovered that you had spent an entire day and night in bed.

You slowly put your clothing back on, happy to discover that it had dried all the way, pretty much a given as it had lain in a heap for over a full day on your floor. You probably looked awful after your high fever, so you headed out of your room and towards the bathhouse to freshen yourself up. Just as you went to enter, Ingrid was leaving, her hair obviously wet, and you exchanged smiles as you passed by each other.

The bathhouse was almost completely empty, save a few women, but none of your students. It made sense that there weren’t a lot of people up this early in the morning. There had just been a big battle, and there were still more to come. Everyone worked so hard, so you felt that they more than deserved to sleep in if they wanted to. But you were more than happy to finally be free from your bed, and so you stripped down and got into the water in just your towel.

You took your time to wash your hair and body, happy to not feel gross for the first time in a while. Only after scrubbing yourself to your utmost satisfaction did you relent and get redressed, leaving the bathhouse behind and feeling fully refreshed. Stifling a yawn, you decided to head over to the dining hall as your stomach yearned for food after so long without.

“Good morning, Professor,” Mercedes greeted you as you both entered the dining hall together. “Did you also hear that they would be including sugar scones in today’s breakfast menu?”

You hadn’t heard anything about menus at all, but any food sounded good to you at this point. You couldn’t remember if you had eaten sugar scones before, but they sounded like something you would like. You and Mercedes walked up to the front of the hall together, both accepting a plate of assorted muffins and colorful scones that were sparkling with sugar.

“Oh, I just love these!” Mercedes spoke cheerily as the two of you found a free section of table and sat down across from each other. “Have you had sugar scones before, Professor?”

You shook your head no and she giggled. “Well, I would recommend spreading some Albenian berry jam on them,” she informed you happily, gesturing to the small dish of red jelly that was situated in the middle of your plate. “These are one of Annie’s favorites, so I thought she would be here by now…”

As if on cue, Annette burst through the doorway to the dining hall, almost tripping as she skidded to a stop just in time to turn and rush towards the dining hall staff for her tray of breakfast sweets. She waved happily at you and Mercedes as she passed you to get to the front. The two of you watched, amused, as Annette was scolded by the head chef for running in the dining hall. She sheepishly apologized and received her tray of sweets, which brought a smile back onto her face as she turned and made her way over to you, taking a seat next to Mercedes.

“Sorry I’m late! I thought scone day was tomorrow!” Annette explained as she took in the sight of her breakfast tray.

“You’re so forgetful, Annie,” Mercedes teased with a smile.

“Well at least I got here in time!” Annette huffed, wasting no time in smearing jam all over one of her scones and taking a big bite out of it.

“That is true,” Mercedes agreed, before turning her head to look at you. “Do you like them, Professor?”

You had tried a bite while they were talking, spreading the jam like Mercedes had suggested, and found that you did like them. You must have missed it when these had been served in the dining hall before. You had eaten an entire scone by the time Mercedes had asked the question, and you were interrupted before you could answer her.

“Mind if I join you ladies?” Sylvain asked from behind you.

“Of course, Sylvain,” Mercedes replied, and he slid in right next to you with his own plate of food that he placed down in front of himself.

“I feel like I missed seeing your pretty face around here the past few days,” Sylvain said, popping an entire scone in his mouth as he looked over at you.

“You never change, do you?” Ingrid said wearingly as she sat down on your other side. “You think that she hasn’t had enough of your behavior already?”

“Ingrid…” Sylvain groaned. “She got a hole cut out of her not that long ago, I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

“And you thought your flirting would heal her wounds?” Felix raised an eyebrow as he sat down next to Mercedes. “You delusions never end.”

“Hey, why is everyone turning on me?” Sylvain complained, and you laughed. “Not you too, Professor! You wound me!”

Now Annette and Mercedes laughed, while Felix rolled his eyes and Ingrid smiled and shook her head. You all ate your breakfast while chatting, slowly adding Ashe and Dedue to your midst. Even when Dedue didn’t appear to be coming to sit with your group, Annette called his name and beckoned him over to join your table, while Ashe was convinced as soon as he saw your group all together. It was very lively, and almost made you forget that there was a war looming over you all. But just because you would soon have to kill or be killed yet again did not mean that you couldn’t enjoy the company of your lively house members.

“Hey, shouldn’t Dimitri be up by now?” Annette wondered out loud.

“That’s true,” Ingrid agreed. “He’s never been one to sleep in.”

“I can go and check his room,” Dedue volunteered. “If he is not there, then he may-”

“No need!” Annette replied. “I see him now! Dimitri, over here!”

The tall blonde king had just walked into the dining hall, and looked your way at Annette’s call, noticing your entire group all sitting together and walking over to approach you all. Before anyone could stop him or insist that he didn’t have to, Dedue was up from his seat to grab Dimitri a plate of breakfast from the cooks at the front. Some other people stopped Dimitri to talk quickly or greet him, and so he arrived at your table just as Dedue had brought back a plate for him, which he accepted gratefully, knowing better than to try to dissuade his friend from performing errands without being asked by this point. He sat down next to Dedue, and Annette got up to bring over some tea to share with everyone. It was the most cheerful that you all had been during this time of war, and you could not recall a time when you had been happier.

You talked with Ingrid about how her pegasus was doing, and she happily invited you to come flying with her if you would like, to which Mercedes and Annette chimed in that they would love to fly with her as well. Meanwhile, Sylvain on your other side informed you that his horse was available for riding lessons as well, to which Ashe mentioned that he wanted to improve his riding skills, and Sylvain looked marginally defeated. You were having so much fun talking with everyone that you didn’t notice anything amiss with Dimitri at all.

“Are you ill, Your Highness?” Dedue said, with no intentions of being discreet with his volume management. “You have not touched your food.”

Everyone paused their conversations to stare at the king, who had been staring at his plate until Dedue had spoken up to him. He looked up at the sudden silence, surprised to see everyone’s eyes on him. He gave Dedue a small smile, assuring him that he was alright, which Dedue reluctantly accepted, but it was not good enough for Ingrid.

“You don’t look very well, Dimitri,” she insisted, leaning forward a bit to get a better look at him. “Have you been sleeping alright?”

He looked over, meeting your eyes for a very brief moment before immediately looking at Ingrid, ignoring your confused stare. “I am fine,” he said reassuringly, shaking his head with a laugh when Ingrid gave him a hard look. “Really, Ingrid. I am alright.”

“If you don’t sleep, you’re just making it easier for the enemy to cut you down,” Felix said sharply.

“I bought some tea at the market that is supposed to help with sleeping problems if you would like to try some,” Mercedes offered.

“I promise you all that I am alright,” Dimitri insisted with a smile.

Sensing that a change of mood was in order, you offered the last remaining thing on your plate, a Dagda fruit muffin, to Sylvain. You found that you did not like Dadga fruit tea, and so you figured that it would be better to give it to someone who would appreciate it more. And it didn’t hurt as a conversation swap either.

“You don’t want it, Professor?” he asked, blinking at you, surprised.

You shook your head, holding the plate a little closer to him, and he shrugged, grinning at you. “Who am I to refuse you? Thanks for the muffin.”

Sylvain ate the muffin in a few bites as Dimitri finally began to pick at his own tray. You tried again to catch his eye, but he was determined to stare down at his plate. Conversation began to pick up again as Annette started to tell a story from back when they were all students. The conversation took a nostalgic turn as everyone then began sharing stories from their school lives five years prior.

“Not to be rude, but I thought you hated us at first!” Annette told you, blushing slightly with embarrassment.

“I must confess that I felt the same at the start,” Ashe agreed, quickly adding, “but we couldn’t be where we are now without you.”

“I do remember calling you beautiful and you just stared at me... I thought you didn’t hear me for a second,” Sylvain recalled.

“How is that any different from now?” Felix sneered.

“That is true,” Mercedes agreed. “Just the other day I saw a village girl just turn around and leave without saying anything.”

“Mercedes!” Sylvain’s jaw went slack. “You saw that?”

“I see your success rate hasn’t changed,” Felix scoffed.

Sylvain really had no comeback for that, and you were far from the only one at the table to laugh at his plight. Giggling, you locked eyes with Annette, who you noticed had also finished her plate. Nodding at each other, you both got up from the table to take your empty plates back.

“I feel like I’ve got my muffin fix for a while!” she joked as you handed your empty plates to the dining hall staff.

“What are your plans for the day?” you asked her, and she smiled.

“Don’t tell Mercie, but she was talking about how she missed these sweet ginger cakes we had when we were younger, and I was going to make some to surprise her with!” she whispered excitedly.

You were glad that Annette was such an endless supply of joy and kindness. You knew how much everyone appreciated any distractions from the mounting scale of war you were faced with, and so you also would have to do your best to keep a happy demeanor about yourself. Annette’s eyes drifted from yours as you both got back to the table as she stared ahead.

“Hey, where did Dimitri go?” she asked.

You looked over to where Annette had her eyes set and noticed that your table was missing its blonde king. You both must have looked incredibly confused, because Dedue decided to put you out of your misery.

“His Highness… had something to attend to.” Even Dedue sounded puzzled.

“Yeah, he just said that he had forgotten to do something and left…” Ingrid added, her eyebrows drawn together.

“Maybe he just had a bad reaction to the muffins?” Sylvain suggested, but one look at Dimitri’s plate told you that he hadn’t eaten a single thing from his plate.

He was acting weird, but he didn’t seem to be sliding back into his darkness again. Even so, you would have to check on him later, just to make sure. You had abandoned him for five years, even if it wasn’t by choice, and you would never leave his side again until the day came when he no longer needed you. You wouldn’t lose him again, not when everyone, when Faerghus, needed him.

Dimitri walked briskly to the cathedral, taking up his usual spot in front of the rubble that had once been a proud altar. He knew that he was clearly acting off, and his friends would eventually come and make sure he was okay. And he knew that he was not doing well, but it was not the type of problem that he imagined that they thought that he was dealing with. He had never dealt with anything like this before, and he didn’t know what to do. And so, he stared at the rubble, but too lost in thoughts to take in the scenery.

He couldn’t sleep at all the night before, and he didn’t know how he would get any sleep tonight. Seeing your mostly nude body had awoken within him feelings that he had kept himself from feeling for so long. He had been so focused on revenge for the entirety of his developing years that he had never allowed himself to think of romance as more than a faraway concept. He had sheltered himself for so long, and now the reality of his situation was hitting him with the full force that it would have had he allowed himself when he was a teenager. Instead, he was an adult man who was only now realizing the depths that his feelings could reach. He loved you, and it scared him.

He knew that he couldn’t avoid you forever. You had a war to win, and he couldn’t avoid his closest ally, even if he happened to just discover his feelings for you. He wanted desperately to be near you, but even with your widening range of emotions, he had seen no indication that you had any romantic feelings towards him. And besides, you would never talk to him again if you found out that he had stayed in your room while you were not fully dressed, even if it was to help you recover from your fever. He would live with his shame and hide his feelings, and would channel his energy into the war. Although that still didn’t resolve how he was going to sleep tonight, since he knew that every time he closed his eyes that night he would see your perfect breasts or your kind smile.

He had spent the last few hours of the night after he had returned to his room staring out of his window into the night sky. He had wrestled with his longing to go back there and tell you how he felt, kiss you… but you were sick. You needed rest. And you certainly did not need to have to deal with this new revelation of his. He relied on you for so much that he would crumble without your support, and so he just had to accept that your support would never be that of a wife’s to him.

He felt like a preteen boy. He couldn’t even stand to meet eyes with you in the dining hall earlier. He was so focused on staring at his plate that he could barely hear what anyone else had said. He had met your eyes for only half a second and even that was too much for him in his current state. You had looked worried for him, worries that he didn’t feel that he could assuage. He would have to keep his distance from you until he could resolve this within himself.

He must have been lost in thought for a while because eventually, he realized that Dedue was by his side. He gave Dedue a nod and then turned back to face the rubble, but a call of his title had him looking back to his stoic friend.

“Is everything alright, Your Highness?” Dedue asked simply.

“I…” Dimitri was not sure what to say.

“When I pledged myself to you, I intended to ensure that no harm came to you,” Dedue explained. “If anyone has been upsetting you, or you are suffering a cursed ailment, you need only to tell me and I will scourge whoever dared to curse you.”

Dimitri could never have a normal conversation with him during this war, could he? There were so many threats to his life, he was willing to admit, but Dedue never ceased to worry, even when everything was stable for the moment. He knew that Dedue cared about him, but he always thought the worst of things when it concerned his king.

“I have no injuries or curses, my friend,” he told Dedue who looked entirely unconvinced.

“If it is something that you feel that you cannot tell the others…” Dedue’s offer was implied. He was concerned, that much Dimitri could tell easily.

“For now, it is something that I must handle on my own,” Dimitri said, not meeting his friend’s eyes.

It took some convincing, but Dedue finally relented in his insistence that he walk the king back to his room, despite the fact that they were on entirely different floors. He also rebuffed Dedue’s offer to stand guard outside his room the entire night to defend him from attackers. Dedue had finally, reluctantly relented and allowed Dimitri to finally return to his room alone. He was careful to check that he hadn’t been followed; Dedue had done it before, after all. But he saw no signs of anyone following him and arrived on the second floor of the dormitories, not meeting anyone on the way down the hall and to his room.

It was early in the night, he discovered as he returned to his room. It was earlier than he usually went to sleep, but being awake for closing in on thirty or so hours was wearing on him. With getting some rest potentially in sight, he sat on his bed and began the painstaking process of removing his armor. He let out a tired sigh as his leg armor came off, and he carefully placed it aside before repeating the process on his upper armor, removing his cape and furs as well when he had taken his armor off. He was left in just his long black undershirt and black pants, which was all he wore when he slept these days. Although he did recall that he had previously pushed himself to the point of collapse when in his full armor before, and waking up from that had never felt pleasant on his body. But given his state of mind at the time, he simply got up and continued to do the work he felt needed to be done; being sore never kept him from the slaughter. But as he was now, he appreciated that he could take his armor off at the end of the day and rest. He never knew how nice it would feel to let down his last layer of defense and truly be himself around his friends with nothing to hide. Well, he thought, nothing to hide but his attraction to you that refused to wane.

He would try to sleep; at least now he was in his room, where he was not likely to run into you. His onset affection for you was so strong that he didn’t think it would go away, and he did not know if that was a good thing or not. He took off his shoes, setting them down before laying down on his bed and closing his eyes in the hope that sleep would find him.

You had spent your day talking to the other occupants of the monastery, doing your best to confirm that everyone was doing alright. You knew that this war weighed on everyone’s souls, and if you could do anything to help, you would. And so, you did some light training with Felix, went to the marketplace with Ashe, and ended up helping Annette do some baking for Mercedes, which did not result in any kitchen disasters for once, which was a relief. You had seen Dimitri in the cathedral earlier, in that same place he had always gone before he had broken free of his darkness. You decided to give him some space, but when you passed by the cathedral again later in the evening, he was no longer in his usual spot in front of the rubble.

Whatever was wrong with him, you wanted to give him time. You really did. But if he was sinking back into his inner darkness, then you couldn’t stand by and let it happen again. You walked around the monastery grounds but were unable to find him. As a last ditch effort, you decided to head to the second floor of the dormitories to check and see if he was in his room. You passed various people as they headed to their own rooms to retire for the night, smiling as Flayn excitedly wished you a good night as you passed by her. Finally, you arrived at what you recalled to be Dimitri’s bedroom door.

You raised a hand and lightly knocked on the door. No answer. Maybe he had gone for a late night walk and you had just missed him on your walk around the monastery. You knocked one more time, slightly louder, but still got no response. You couldn’t hear any sounds from at all from the other side of the door. Having no choice, you reluctantly decided to leave and head back to your own room. You could talk with Dimitri the next time you saw him, you reassured yourself. And so, you began to retreat the way that you had come, off to get some sleep and hopefully wake up fully free from your sickness.

“Professor…”

It was so quiet that you almost didn’t detect it, but you supposed your sensitivity on the battlefield allowed you to pick up the muted whisper of your old title. You turned your head back, not sure what to expect, but found Dimitri in only pants and a long-sleeved shirt, both in black, staring at you from just outside his room. He met your gaze with a look of surprise on his face, almost as if he had not expected you to hear him or turn back to look. You made your way back over to him, and he opened his door wider and gestured for you to accompany him inside.

He walked all the way to his window before turning only his head back to face you. His expression was unreadable, but yours certainly wasn’t, and he immediately saw the worry on your face.

“Are you okay?” you asked quietly. You knew that you couldn’t make him talk if he didn’t want to but you needed him to know that you were here for him.

“You never let up, do you?” he asked, and you vaguely recalled him saying something like that to you in the past. Before you could reply, he continued. “I could not be who I am today without your help.”

Why was he saying that now, and then why did he look so troubled? You didn’t understand where he was going with this, and were about to tell him so.

“I could not stand to lose you,” he spoke slowly, finally turning around fully and stepping slightly closer to you. “But I fear that I may if I tell you what is on my mind.”

“That is not possible,” you countered, staring him down sternly.

Dimitri only grew a small sad smile at your words. He looked to be waging a mental war on himself, but you bridged the gap that was still between you and forced him to look at you in the eyes. You looked at him with all the seriousness you could manage in an attempt to convey to him that you would listen to anything that he had to say. He broke eye contact with you almost immediately, staring at the floor as he spoke quietly.

“You had a fever,” he explained. “Nobody had seen you the day after you were out in the rain. I went to check on you, and you were not answering your door and I…”

Your eyes went wide in surprise. That night, you were…

“I am so sorry, Professor!” he spoke, sounding upset as he hung his head in shame. “I saw you in a state that only your husband should see you in and I-”

His rambling cut off and you looked at him, trying desperately to have him meet your eyes, but he continued to look at the floor, so you took a second to reevaluate these new revelations. Dimitri had not fully explained, but from what you had pieced together, he had been worried about you and came into your room, which must have been after you had stripped down to only your underwear, based on Dimitri’s odd husband comment. You felt a rush of embarrassment that he had seen you like that, but you found that you were more bothered that he had seen you looking so weak rather than the fact that he had seen you nearly naked. But you also found that you didn’t really mind that it was him that had seen you that way.

“I… I did not leave you be. I could not. I stayed with you and kept a cold cloth on your forehead until your fever broke. I should have left, but I could not just leave you like that,” Dimitri spoke up again.

He was so earnest that it was cute. Apologizing for seeing you nearly nude was one thing, but you stifled a laugh as he was for some reason apologizing for staying with you and taking care of you while you were sick. He was fiercely intelligent, brave in the face of the hardships of war, but looking at him now, he looked like an awkward teenager trapped in the body of a grown man. You could no longer help yourself, and you let out a quiet giggle.

“Professor?” Dimitri uttered as he looked at you in shock and you laughed at his expression.

“You’re so cute,” you told him, and watched as your words sent a pink flush to his cheeks as he stared at you in disbelief.

You knew that you should do something to put him out of his misery, but you weren’t sure what. You reached a hand up to cup one of his cheeks, and he looked at you unsteadily, closing his eye as he leaned into your touch. You weren’t sure why you had decided to reach out for him physically, but staring at his handsome face, so close to your own, you felt the most comfortable and safe you had ever felt. You closed your eyes too to bask in the moment, but then he said your name, not your title, but your actual name. You opened your eyes again and the two of you stared at each other and he raised his own hand to cover yours that was still on his cheek. He had an urgency in his eyes that you could not place.

“I need to kiss you,” he said, not breaking eye contact, unwavering under your surprised look.

You really shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were, given how physically close the two of you were now, and how emotionally close you had been to each other for so long, but you hadn’t had the time to think that this was even a possibility. Overpowering all of your mind was the sense that this was all that you wanted in this moment. He was different than he had been when you had reunited with him, but he had broken free of his darkness, and had become the kind, strong leader that his people needed. That you all needed. He was your dearest friend, but right now you wanted him to kiss you more than anything, and so you nodded.

He didn’t waste any more than a few seconds before bending down and connecting your lips as your eyes slid closed as the same time. You adjusted your chin so you would be better locked together as your other hand weakly grasped at the material of his shirt, just above his chest. The kiss felt so effortless, as you both adjusted to the other’s rhythm and Dimitri’s other hand came up to rest on the back of your head, keeping you close together.

The kiss stayed simple, but it was making you feel lightheaded with the intensity that you were both putting into it. You pulled away, not confident in your ability to breathe at the moment and he followed, gently steering you back until the back of your knees hit his bed and you allowed him to push you back down onto it.

You found yourself laying on your back as Dimitri hovered over you, his legs on either side of you. He was upright with his knees pressed against your upper thighs, looking at you with want but unsure of how to proceed. While he sat there in a daze, you shrugged your coat off and gently removed your gauntlets, letting it all fall down in a heap by the bedside, and as you did, you noticed a pile of Dimitri’s own clothing and armor only a few feet away.

When you looked back up, you noticed that Dimitri had been following you with his gaze, but he still looked unsure. You had no idea what was going on in his head or what had happened to his confidence, but you decided that you would have to make it abundantly clear that you would like this to continue. And so, you lifted your torso up from the bed and wriggled out of your shirt, throwing everything that covered your upper body onto the floor and watching Dimitri’s eye widen and cheeks turned red as he once again took in the sight of your bare breasts. You were just happy that you were conscious this time so you could enjoy his very honest reaction.

He was still staring, this time he had switched back to look you in the eyes and you couldn’t help but tease him. “Dimitri, your shirt…”

He finally relaxed a bit and smiled so sweetly down at you. “I suppose I should make it even.”

You had never seen him shirtless before, but the scars on his body told you what he could never bring himself to about what had happened to him over the past ten years. He gave you no explanation, and did not give you the time to fully examine all of his scars as he lowered his head down and kissed you again, feeding in your boldness as he supported himself with one hand, bringing his other hand up to feel one breast. The shock of his sudden movements had you moaning in surprise, and the kiss transitioned further as you both allowed your tongues to meet as well.

You cradled his head in your hands, bringing one hand through his hair, so much longer than it had been five years earlier. Finding yourself wanting to be even closer to him, you brought one leg out from under him and wrapped it around his hip. The position allowed you to grind up against him, and he met your hips excitedly as you kissed and you felt a shiver go down your spine as you realized how much he wanted this, your hips so close together that you could not miss how hard he had become in such little time. The friction was exactly where you wanted it, but it began to not feel like anywhere close to enough.

He pulled back from you by a few centimeters, nose still touching yours, and his hand that was not supporting his weight drifted from your breast to brush a hand through your hair. “I love you,” he said sincerely, chuckling as you looked up at him in shock. “You did not think I loved you?”

He seemed amused by your lack of response, and in truth you did not know, you had been so happy to be like this with him that you hadn’t even considered the feelings that were obviously involved. But you could not deny how happy those words made you, and he leaned down to kiss you again as a smile lit up your face. He gave you a few short kisses before he disengaged himself from you, sitting at the side of the bed, and you hastened to join him. He looked over as you hesitantly placed your head on his shoulder, and he readily accepted the contact.

“I did not think that I would ever feel like this… that I deserved to feel this way with you. I escaped the darkness that I had been trapped in, but I know there are those who will never forgive me for the sins I have committed. But you stuck by my side when I treated you so poorly. I don’t deserve you… any of you,” he said, staring at the wall but wrapping an arm around your naked back.

“You are indispensable to me,” he said as he leaned over to kiss your hair. “I knew that I would not be here without you, but I did not realize my feelings until that night.”

You knew which night he meant, but you had taken even longer than him to discover your own feelings, but you knew now. You loved him, and there was no going back now, even if you wanted to. Which, sitting side by side in this moment, you knew that you only wanted to experience even more with this man who was so dear to you.

“I wanted to wait until after the war, until we had peace. But after that night, I could not look back at you without seeing your bare form. It is shameful, but I cannot hold back any longer, especially now that I know it is mutual,” he explained, adjusting the both of you so that you were facing each other. “I want to be with you.”

He was looking at you expectantly, but kindly. You realized that he needed you to also affirm that this was real, that you loved him as well. He believed in you, but you knew that you should put the poor boy out of his misery. You leaned in to kiss him and he reciprocated happily, pulling back after a few seconds, eyes fluttering open to look at Dimitri, who looked so content in that moment.

“I love you,” you told him, truly meaning it. “I want to be with you.”

Dimitri looked so happy, but with a glance downwards, you saw that he was no less hard. It looked rather painful, and couldn’t be comfortable for him. You were not as subtle as you thought you had been, and he caught your glance downwards on his form.

“I… it is okay, I would never pressure you. You do not have to worry about me,” he said quickly, face flushing pink.

He was about to get up and put some distance between you, but you would not let that happen. You stood up with him and spoke his name softly as you slipped your hands into the sides of your shorts, pulling them down along with your tights and slipping out of them and your boots. It was not a particularly graceful or sexy stripping of your last articles of clothing, but it got the job done. You crossed the room to where he was standing and he allowed you to begin the process of removing the clothes covering his lower half.

“If this is what you really want,” his growled words sent your cheeks aflame. “I will not hold back, my love.”

He helped you by kicking his pants and underwear off, and as soon as you were both fully naked, he picked you up, his hands grasping your thighs to support you. You hastily wrapped your legs and arms around him so you wouldn’t fall, and he grinned at you as he placed you down on the bed, following you down so he could kiss you again. Dimitri kissed you for only a moment longer as you desperately tried to keep up with his pace. You were so ready for what was to come, and you pulled back from the kiss and gazed up at him with longing.

Dimitri swallowed as he looked down at you, and you spread your legs as he reached down to his achingly hard cock. You were embarrassed to discover that you were easily wet enough from just kisses and simple groping that Dimitri was able to rub himself against you before he began to slide himself inside with ease. You let out a breathy moan as you tried not to squirm at the foreign feeling. Dimitri’s eyes closed as he dropped down to rest his head on your shoulder, his deep groan right by your ear as he pushed further inside you. Finally, your hips fully met as he was seated fully within you, and you knew that you had never felt anything like this before. You knew what sex was, your father had been too awkward to give you the talk himself and had a female village chief explain to it to you after you had saved their village, so you knew the basics. But no explanation could match up with how good it felt to be so intimate with the man you loved.

You felt his breath tickle your ear as he pulled himself back up, his eyes half lidded. “You feel so good… forgive me, but it is hard for me to focus on anything else.”

You felt the same way, but you didn’t have the patience for him to wait and adjust to this feeling, so you decided to force the issue by squeezing your inner muscles and watching as he shuddered, eye fluttering closed for a moment with a groan. He opened his eye to glare halfheartedly at you, obviously too pleased at the moment for you to believe that he was actually angry with you.

“You are so impatient,” he teased, but complied with your wishes as he pulled ever so slightly out of you before canting his hips back into yours.

He didn’t waste a second in continuing the movement, and his gentle rocking was driving you crazy. You were completely naked, and it had been a cold month, but you were so, so warm. There was a pleasant burn that was slowly ebbing away to just feel good in a way that you had never felt before. Evidently this was new to Dimitri as well, because he was in no better of a state than you were, panting against your skin as he leaned down to kiss at your neck. You were content to lay like that, your arms around his neck and feeling his hair tickle your face, but a well-timed thrust had you unexpectedly crying out with the sudden spike of pleasure.

Dimitri couldn’t suppress his own groan as he was able to reach deeper within you. And when you rolled your hips up to meet him, he almost stopped his momentum to bask in how good it felt. He once again palmed your breasts and stifled your moan as he kissed you again. He closed his eye as he kissed you because he feared that if he was to keep it open and take in the way you looked right now, this would end far sooner than he wanted. You were so beautiful like this, and his heart stuttered with every sound that left your mouth.

He wanted this to last, but he could no longer be satisfied with the current pace. He began to pull out more swiftly and push back in with a new speed and intensity. He felt pride surge up in him as you squirmed and broke the kiss to let out another cute cry. Your next cry was of his name, which set his pace on fire as you both rapidly tried to meet your ends as you both connected in a desperate clashing of tongues, both groping at any inch of the other’s skin that you could reach.

“I fear this will not last much longer, beloved,” Dimitri panted. “But we have so much more time ahead of us.”

You weren’t fully sure what he meant by that, but at this point you were so close to reaching your peak that you could do no more than moan and grasp weakly onto his neck and back, tangling one hand in his hair. You closed your eyes tightly as Dimitri held you as close to him as he could, his chest brushing against yours in tandem with his thrusting. It only took a bit more of his harsh, fast pace before you lost yourself in pleasure. Dimitri continued to move, prolonging your orgasm as you moaned and squeezed around him. He could only hold out for so long and he was finally pushed over the edge with a strained groan of your name. The two of you stayed joined for a moment before Dimitri gently moved off of you, giving you a shy smile. You went to get up with him, but he stopped you with a hand on your arm and you obeyed, laying back down, but looked at him quizzically.

“You may not want to get up. We have made quite a mess,” Dimitri said reluctantly.

He wasn’t making eye contact anymore, and you followed his gaze downwards on your body. Oh. Without the feeling to distract you, you realized just how gross you were feeling… down there. You closed your legs tightly in embarrassment, and in the hopes that you wouldn’t ruin Dimitri’s sheets. Feeling an onset of bashfulness, you also brought an arm up to cover as much of your chest as you could; despite what you had just done with him, the reality of the situation was catching up to you.

Dimitri laughed at your sudden shyness. “I will go fetch something to clean you up with,” he explained, beginning to dress himself to his first layer of clothing, foregoing his armor.

He bent down to kiss one of your flushed cheeks, and then he was gone out the door. Once the door had been closed and you were alone, you felt all of your remaining composure slip away. You and Dimitri had… you had no idea how he was so much more composed than you were, easily leaving the room to bring back something to clean you up. You felt too embarrassed to leave this room for a month, let alone right after you had been so intimate for the first time. You did not even know what to say to Dimitri when he got back, but you would dare to hope he had meant what he said, implying that he wanted to do this again. That he loved you. But for now, all you could do was wait for him to return.

Dimitri kept a relatively quick pace to fetch a cloth, although for a much different reason than the previous time. He still had a hard time believing that had just happened, that you and he were… he loved you, and he would not deny it even if being open about it was so new for him. Smiling to himself, he wistfully hoped that you would agree to spend the night in his room. He would not force you, but he could not deny that the idea of waking up and seeing your beautiful face first thing in the morning set his heart aflutter.

Dimitri had gotten to the middle of the hallway before he noticed someone waving at him just past his room, standing at the end of the hallway. Sylvain grinned at him as Dimitri walked past his own room to meet his friend just outside the redhead’s room.

“Late night walk, Your Highness?” Sylvain quipped, eyes briefly darting down to the towel in Dimitri’s grasp.

Dimitri was silent for a moment too long, wondering what to respond, and Sylvain laughed awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “Just one thing though, you might want to noise-proof your room.”

“Sylvain!” Dimitri admonished, shocked.

“Hey!” Sylvain waved his hands in a defensive manner. “It wasn’t me! But, uh, Felix was just here complaining that you and the Professor were interrupting his sleep…”

Dimitri was not sure what to say to that, and immediately felt bad because he was sure that you would be embarrassed if you knew that you two had been heard. Dimitri turned a hard gaze to Sylvain; his childhood friend had not been known to be the most trustworthy with gossip, but Sylvain immediately knew what Dimitri was thinking, and what he was likely about to say.

“I wasn’t going to tell anyone, relax!” Sylvain stated quickly. “Just be careful, ladies don’t really like having an audience.”

Dimitri scoffed, but smiled at his friend. “I will keep that in mind, Sylvain.”

Relieved that Dimitri was not mad at him, he clasped one of his friend’s shoulders. “I won’t keep you from her, but I just wanted to say that I’m happy for you. You deserve to be happy, Dimitri. Just don’t let her get away!” he joked.

Both men having said their piece, turned to go to their respective rooms. Dimitri could only hope that you hadn’t heard any of their conversation. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you away or make you uncomfortable. But as he opened the door, he found you still on his bed, shutting the door behind him without looking back because he could not stand to look away from the smile you gave him upon seeing him return.

It hadn’t been long, but you felt happiness surge up in you at the sight of him. He briskly made his way over to you and handed you the towel he had brought, to your great relief. It would be too embarrassing to have him clean you, and so you accepted the towel gratefully, cleaning yourself as he turned his back to give you some privacy. You made quick work of cleaning yourself, feeling less of a mess immediately, other than your hair still being slightly matted to your forehead with sweat. You wanted to savor this moment, but you also wanted to know if he had really meant what he had said earlier.

Dimitri, not noticing the shift in your mood, leaned down onto the bed just as you sat up so he could give you a light kiss. He looked so happy when he pulled away from you, his smile unwavering. It was only then that he noticed how strained your small smile was. “My love…?”

“…you said we would have more time,” you said quietly, and his brows drew together in confusion, before nodding affirmatively.

“You have not figured it out yet?” Dimitri teased, reaching down to hold your hand. “I would hope that this was not the only time we would be together like this.”

You were still confused, and he noticed immediately. “I do not mean only in a carnal sense. This is a rather unusual setting, but I have no regrets. I want to marry you.”

Oh... You stared at him in shock. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say, only just nervous that he would tell you to leave, that this was a one-time thing. But he had gone in the farthest direction possible from what you had feared. You found that you really wanted this, you wanted to marry him, wanted to stay by his side forever. None of your thoughts made it to your face, your expression blank as you stared at him. Dimitri didn’t seem to understand what you were thinking, and got a little anxious himself.

“If you do not want to, of course…” he muttered. “I do not have a ring, yet I decided to ask this of you. I understand if you do not want this with me.”

He had seemingly already decided his fate, and you smiled softly at him. “I accept.”

“You… you do?” he sounded surprised, and you weren’t quite sure why. He was a wonderful man, and you loved him so much. He was a fool to think anything otherwise. Especially after what you had just done together, and all you both had been through.

He had finally seemed to get the message, and practically lunged towards you, connecting your lips together in a rough kiss. This war would end, you knew, and then the two of you could build a peaceful world together. You looked forward to that, but you knew that you would have Dimitri at your side for anything that came your way, and that gave you all the confidence you could ever need.

#reader insert #xreader #fire emblem #fire emblem 3h #fire emblem three houses #dimileth #dimitri x reader #fe3h x reader #fire emblem three houses x reader #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #smut at the end #smut

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seekingseven · 3 years ago

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Linked Universe Prompt Requests #2!

Prompt: How would the others react if they were to find out that Legend was a shoplifter? In LA, if Legend steals once, the entire island calls him "thief" for the rest of the game and since to a degree that world is made from his own mind, there's that fear in his head that no matter how much good he's done it's never enough to change who he is. And then that if others found out, would they think he's unable to change, too? Would he even feel worthy of being remembered as "the Hero of Legend"...?

(Requested by @kate-m-art over on Discord!) Fic under the cut! Or, read it here on Ao3!

Beneath the stone skeleton of a building long dead, three heroes sat around a fire.

A pile of dog-eared cards lay scattered across the floor. Half eaten stakes sat on wooden plates, frosted with hardening grease, and shoes damp with sweat cooled in the shade. Around them, symbols of transient domesticity flowered — bedmats, pillowcases made of potato sacks, afghans knitted by worried grandmothers and cousins and wives.

The fire danced brightly and evocatively, yet all three of them had their sleeves pulled up to their wrists and blankets on their backs. The fat around Wind's cheeks swelled around his eyes as he rested his chin on his pillow. Twilight propped himself up on his elbow, ignoring the warning prickle of pins-and-needles to come, and Legend laid on his stomach with his heels resting on his rear.

"Hey, Legend? Twi? When do you think the others'll be back?"

Legend flicked away an ant crawling on his knuckles before tossing another scrap of wood into the fire.

"Soon enough. Didn't the champion talk to you through that charm of yours? Said something or other about being on the way back?"

"Yeah..."

"Then don't worry about them. They'll be fine. Up for another round of cards?"

The silence was answer enough. Grunting, Legend stacked the slips of glossy paper and folded them back into their box. Twilight looked on, chin pressing against his collarbone as his eyelids slipped.

A cough, louder than necessary. Twilight jolted awake, then shot Legend a dirty glare.

"Really?"

"Well, I can't ask you if you want to play truth-or-dare if you're asleep."

Legend grinned. Wind snickered. Cloth rustled as Twilight lowered himself onto his bedmat and pulled his blanket up over his shoulders.

"So? Will that be a yes or no, Mr. Rancher sir?"

Grass sprouting between cracked tile crunched as Twilight turned on his side.

"Huh. I guess not."

"I want to," Wind protested, rolling over to lie on his back. The fire tossed a shadowy mimicry of his profile against the adjacent wall.

"Then you start. I don't have any ideas."

"Uh, okay. Ummm...I don’t know. Have you...no. Uh. Oh, I have an idea! Ever stolen something?"

Legend snorted. "You're supposed to say truth-or-dare first."

"Oh, oh yeah. Yeah....okay. Uh...."

The 'h' lingered on the air like condensation on the walls, then dripped back into Wind's throat as his head lolled to the side. Legend stifled a laugh as Wind startled, coughed, and sat up.

"Careful," Legend warned. His voice was louder than it needed to be, and his eyebrows lay flat. "You shouldn't sleep on your back like that. Might choke or something."

The glare Wind tossed at him was eerily reminiscent of the one he had just received from Twilight.

"If you're going to be like that, then I'm going to bed."

"Wait, no. No, come on, Wind. I was just joking. You don't need to be so bitter about it. Hey, come on! Don't look at me like that -- I, ugh. Fine. Sleep. I don't care."

Two sweat stained backs were now turned to him, warmed by the fire. Motes of ash drifted through the ruins.

“Wind? Come on. You’re not actually tired.”

Silence. Legend chewed idly on the nail of his index finger.

“Come on, Wind. Truth or dare?”

The plea tasted stupid. Somehow, it tasted even worse when Legend realized Wind’s breathing had already slowed to match Twilight’s. Eyebrows furrowed, he spat out the nail he had chewed off. The glob of spit landed dangerously close to Wind’s head.

No movement. Not a sound.

Fine, then.

“Ever stolen something, huh?” Legend asked himself. “Yeah, plenty of times.”

Only the fire flickered in response. Legend wiped away the spit on his chin with his sleeve and rolled over to face the fire. Orange splattered on the floor. For a moment, he wondered if he might damage his vision by staring at the flames.

Whatever.

No one watching. Or listening, either.

“Yeah, I’ve stolen. Plenty of times. It started out as a joke, you know. I guess that’s the case for a lot of bad habits, huh? Hmph. Anyway, I used to hang out with some street kids after helping my uncle with work. We fancied ourselves as some sort of gang. Stupid, I know. But it was a big thing to us kids. We used to go around to the stores in Castle Town and lift stuff from the shelves. All sorts of stuff. Cards. Baby shoes. Tweed bags. Blankets. Sometimes food. Nothing that we needed, really. I guess we just wanted to feel tough.”

His eyes began to itch. He blinked quickly, then looked away from the fire.

“Most of them grew out of it. I thought I did, too. Well, I don’t know. Maybe I knew I didn’t. Anyway, I was on this island a while back, nice place, you know — well, you don’t, but it was a nice place — and there was this shopkeep there. Tried to sell me a bow and arrow. For 980 rupees.”

An owl hooted. Legend smothered a yawn behind a closed fist.

“I know, pretty outrageous. I thought so, too. My fingers were still pretty sticky back then. The only problem was that I didn’t have any buddies with me. It’s pretty hard to steal solo, you know. Safety in numbers and all that. But I didn’t have any buddies, and I didn’t have any rupees either, so I just took the bow and arrow in plain sight. Got away with it, too. Sort of.”

Twilight let out a wet snore. Legend didn’t bother with pretending to be offended.

“Somehow, the entire island figured out I had stolen it. It was brought up in almost every conversation I had. Thief this, thief that. Like a tattoo, or something. And to think that I was trying to help them...nobody even asked why I stole it. I mean, I guess they didn’t have to. Theft is theft. It’s wrong, I know. But it felt, I don’t know. A little aggressive, I guess. Unappreciative.”

Ants marched along the floor.

“I was really just trying to help them, you know. One mistake was all it took to ruin it. Everything, I mean. But I guess life’s just like that, huh? Anyway. Yeah. Now you know. Hoarder and a thief; that’s me.”

The ants climbed up onto the remnants of Legend’s dinner. He considered shooing them away, then turned over to stare at the opposite wall.

Let them have it. Takes one to know one, takes one to forgive one, he supposed.

Legend forced his eyes closed. Owls hooted. Fire crackled. His thoughts slowed to a crawl, then fell silent.

“...Legend?” Wind whispered.

No response.

Bones popped as Wind sat up. He stared at Legend’s back, at the faded scars peeking out from beneath his collar, at the rhythmic swell and fade of his shoulders. Firelight glistened atop the glob of spit by Wind’s side.

“Hey, are you okay? It’s...hey. Listen, none of us would be mad at you for that. People make mistakes, you know. And you were just trying to help…”

Silence. Wind folded his hands in his lap, thinking of vague things like karma and regret, and stared blankly at the pack of cards by Legend’s head.

The price tag was still on it.

~~ Fine ~~

[Previous Request] - [Next Request]

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linkeduniverse Legend #linkeduniverse Twilight #linkeduniverse Wind #seeeking's prompt requests!

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conaionaru · 3 years ago

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The Drowned girl

Raid

Synopsis: Siggy fights in her first battle

Warnings: violence, shit parenting (Bjorn), child abandonment, language, canon divergence, murder, blood, kidnapping, visions of death

Tags:

@pieces-by-me

I don’t own the gifs.

The snow was falling all around Siggy. The cold wind was biting into her cheeks and numbing her toes. Any longer, and she would freeze. But fighting in her coat got her too sweaty, so she threw it off.

She glared at her enemy, standing there unbothered by her attempts to kill him. How arrogant of that bastard. The blonde charged forward again, hitting him left and right, his insides flying around the air. Siggy grinned in victory and hit him in the iron plate around his chest, the blade screeching in protest.

"You are gonna dull the blade like that." A voice called, startling her from her concentration. Siggy twirled around and pointed the blade at the intruder. But luckily, it was just Floki.

"A real warrior fight steel with steel. Christians have steel armor, and I want to destroy it." She bragged, slicing her opponent's neck.

Floki chuckled and skipped over to her. He picked up her coat and duster the snow off it. "Your Christian is dressed like a Viking. And he is made off straw." He plucked a piece of straw from her hair and pointed at the makeshift training dummy.

"You have to aim for weak spots: neck, head. Cut the legs to make it harder to walk, the arms to weaken the muscles. Think, don't just kill."

Siggy frowned and glared at the snow that fell on her nose. "Why overthink if I know that they will die anyway?"

"Thinking is so you survive, not that they die." He fixed the fourteen-year-olds stance and lightly slapped her shoulders. "Now fight. The gods are watching."

Siggy sat behind Rollo, picking at her nails with her freshly sharpened dagger. They were nearing a port which meant new provisions and probably bloodshed. Finally.

Floki kept looking at her whenever she went still for a little too long. He was so worried that she would have a vision in front of all these people. It was a well-kept secret, including her other skills. According to him and Aslaug, it was better if no one knew that she had a gift from the gods. People with her set of skills were cherished but also cursed as witches. It wasn't safe for people to know that she knew how to curse someone or see their future. Not that she got to decide what she saw.

It was nighttime by when they docked into the strange place. Siggy was one of the first people to jump off the ship. She drew her sword; it was specially made for her first raid, decorated with runes for strength and protection.

"The gods are watching." She whispered giddily and skipped behind Hvitserk into a marketplace. This one was far bigger than the one in Kattegat. The people were of darker skin and spoke in a foreign tongue.

Siggy walked between the people, watching their strange products and clothes. In her leather armor, she looked like an outsider. The blonde twirled in a circle, grinning at the fabulous view. The world outside her home was... breathtaking. The terrified screams of the dying people added a certain flair to it all.

With one last twirl, Siggy charged into the masses of fleeing foreigners and joined in the slaughter. It was like she was born for this. The scared look in the people's eyes before they drew their last breath gave her a new kind of rush. She had killed before, of course, but never so many and so terrified.

The shieldmaiden cheered while slicing through the merchants and costumers, ignoring the loots in favor of the battle. She pierced a woman's chest with her sword, stopping at the stall where her body fell. Blood poured from her chest and mouth, her eyes wide open while her body gave its last twitches.

The merchant that owned the stall hid behind the table, watching the bloodied Viking looking down at the poor woman, her eyes crazed and her hands shaking. He kept babbling something frantically, but the blonde couldn't understand a word.

The begging only reminded her that he was there. She looked up at him and frowned at the strange things on the table. He sold animals from foreign places. The horrifying creature in his arms was screeching and biting. It was small and hairy with a tail.

Curiously, Siggy reached her hand out to touch it, only for the merchant to flinch and loosen his hold on the animal. The monkey broke free and climbed up the beam onto the roof of the stall. Shocked, the man called out to it, reaching for its little furry tail.

Siggy frowned and looked between the man and the animal. She sheathed her blade and carefully climbed up onto the frail stall roof. She balanced on one foot and pulled the animal into her arms.

It fought back, scratching, screeching, and biting her arms in an attempt to escape. Siggy jumped back on the ground and held the fighting monkey out for the man to take back. He slowly took it from her arms and nodded in thanks while blubbering something to her in gratitude.

The blonde unsheathed her sword to return to her murdering spree with a smile, ignoring the stall owner and his animals. A spear pierced the man's head, the tip poking out of his open mouth. The man dropped to the ground, and the monkey escaped once again.

Siggy watched, shocked at the animal run away, her eyes following it till it got lost in the masses of people. She wiped at the blood he sprayed on her face and turned back to the corpse. One of her fellow men was robbing the body of the jewelry. "Rich fool."

He stood up and clasped the golden necklace around his neck in victory. Siggy glared at him and stabbed him. His shocked eyes watched her until his knees gave out, and he slid from her sword. Before he did, Siggy yanked the gold off him. Hiding it in her pocket instead, she kicked him away and left him behind.

Siggy walked through the slaughtered people and robbed stalls with heavy feet. It was strange to see so much bloodshed and death around herself, and it was different to imagine it and see it. She could smell burning wood but couldn't see any fire around her.

She stopped dead in her track and breathed in the air thick with smoke. Her skin burned as the world grew quieter. Her eyes grew milky white, and the world faded completely. Instead of the dark marketplace in Spain, she stood in a burning field.

Everything was on fire; she could hear screams as a burning corpse ran by. Siggy stood there as the flames surrounded her and slowly lapped at her delicate skin. She was dressed in expensive clothes, a sword by her side.

In the distance, somewhere hidden under the sound of burning people and crackling fire, she made out the sound of an arrow being shot. The next thing she knew, she felt a pain in her back. Her mouth opened in a silent cry as the impact made her take a step forward in surprise.

Siggy's trembling hand reached out to her back, feeling the arrow that was stuck in her body. A shaky breath left her mouth as the pain flared up, and she fell to her knees, the world burning around her, the flame igniting her dress.

"Witch." Someone whispered into her ear, a gust of wind ruffling her hair like a gentle caress on her cheek.

The world turned dark, the flames stopped burned, and all left was ash and bone. Bones littered the ground around her, serpents crawling all over them, slithering towards her. Siggy locked eyes with the reptile, its little tongue darting out before it jumped forward, biting into her hand.

Siggy cried out and ripped the snake's teeth from her palm; this alarmed the other serpents. They all attacked her, biting her one after the other. The shieldmaiden screamed in pain, falling to her side from all the venom in her system. She could feel them bite her, laughter surrounding her from all sides. People were cheering.

"Heathen." The snakes hissed out before striking again and again. Then they stopped. She laid on the ground, unmoving, just breathing and thinking. What is happening?

The ground around turned to grass, and the sky went blue while the birds chirped happily. Siggy turned onto her back, watching the sky turning into a familiar rooftop. Slowly she picked herself up and limped towards the door. A person stepped into the doorway; their silhouette was hiding the sun, dark but still familiar. The light changed, and there stood Aslaug.

The Queen didn't talk or do anything. She just stood there, blinking, watching Siggy with hard eyes. "Aslaug?" The vőlva turned on her heel, her red cloak soaked in blood. She slowly walked away, crows cawing behind her. Siggy took a few unsure steps towards her, but another figure passed her, he looked familiar as well, but she couldn't see who it was. The person followed after Aslaug, gates opened in front of them. When they walked through, the gates closed, and Siggy was left standing there. All lone and lost. She sobbed out a weak cry for help, only to wake up to someone shaking her.

"Siggy!" Hissed Bjorn, holding her by one shoulder from behind. Her eyes turned back to normal; she spun on her heel. Her sword aimed for his neck, but she knocked it away, glaring at her. "Get a grip before someone kills you. Why are you standing here?!"

Hvitserk runs up to them, taking the confused Siggy from him. "Got any loot, Siggy?" The disoriented girl looks at him and then sticks a hand in her pocket, and she pulls the golden necklace out and holds it out to him with a shaking bloody hand.

Hvitserks smiles at her while Bjorn huffs. "I promised Sigurd a lute from here. But I can't see any." She whispered to cover up the truth. Searching for a musical instrument sounds better than having visions.

Bjorn shook his head and stalked off with one last warning to watch themselves. Hvitserk pulled Siggy to his side and helped her unsure feet to follow the rest of the raiders. "What did you see?"

But Siggy couldn't tell him. She wasn't sure what she saw, it all happened so fast, and there was so much pain.

"Mother says it's better if you talk about it." Right yes. Aslaug... But how is she supposed to tell Hvitserk she saw his mother enter Valhalla? If it was even that.

"I don't know. I will ask the Gods." And with that, the conversation was over. But Siggy still clutched the necklace in her bloody fist.

She could see Rollo murdering a merchant easily; he looked in his element. "Did you miss it?" The Duke looked up to see her wide eyes and shaky steps.

"What?"

"Did you miss the slaughter? The raiding?" She pulled a crazy smile and giggled madly. "You looked so pathetic when you came on the boat. I mean the hair. The clothes."

Siggy kept on giggling and walked over to the corpse on the table. She trailed her fingers over the slit throat and used them to paint the rune for strength on his cheek. "You still look stupid. But I think that's just your face."

Rollo pulled her hand off his cheek and looked at her. The blonde looked deranged, shaking, covered in blood, giggling like a madwoman. Whatever he deduced from all that made him pause. "This your first battle?"

"What if it was?" She whispered as another corpse fell near them. Rollo pulled her closer and pried the necklace from her hold. He stuffed it in her pocket, followed by an arm hoop from his latest murder.

"Hide them well. Stay alert and don't freeze." He looked back into her eyes and brushed down her wild hair. "You have the same eyes, and I always hated those eyes on Ragnar."

"That makes two of us." Rollo patted her cheek and stalked off, leaving her behind. Siggy sighed and spat on the ground, moving into the city walls. She cut through the fleeing masses, stealing where she could to bring back home.

Helga ushered her to her side, a group of Vikings moved into a place with black curtains. A single man stood there, protecting whatever hid inside the building. He took out a dagger, staring at the raiders, terrified.

Bjorn tutted at him. The man charged forward with a war cry but fell dead the next second as Bjorn cut him down effortlessly. Helga ran off looking for something while they moved into a place where men kneeled on the ground, foreheads touching the ground, muttering the same words.

Floki was already inside, watching them do their strange ritual. Siggy moved around the praying men, watching them as they praised their gods. She passed by without harming anyone, too curious about their beliefs to stop them. Other than Halfdan, who cut off a man's head.

"No more killing! Not in here! Not in this place!" Floki ordered holding them back from harming any more Arabs. "I forbid it. If you want to kill these people, you have to kill me first."

Harald watched Floki for any sign of his joking manner but found none. He stepped back and looked at the men. "You heard what Floki said. We're not going to kill these people. Leave. Leave."

Harald left, but Halfdan stared the boatbuilder down, waiting for either a sign of weakness or an explanation. The man who killed Ragnar's Christian and paid the price, and now he protected some Arabs from the same fate. I Halfdan's eyes, it meant he grew weak.

Siggy slipped by Halfdan's retreating figure and tutted at his sour mood. "These people pray to different gods."

Floki looked at her with hard eyes. "They are devoted; it doesn't matter what gods they pray to. Half of the Vikings we know aren't as devoted."

The blonde took his hand in hers and stared him down for an answer. "Christians are devoted to their god, and I would never hesitate to kill a Christian. And you taught me that neither would you."

"People change."

"Not me."

Floki sniggered and ruffled her bloody matted hair. "If you say so." He walked away, watching the praying people, unbothered by the corpse in front of them. "It was never about faith in the gods for me, and it was faith in Ragnar."

What was so great about that shell of a hero? He was a mass manipulation with charisma and crazy dreams that became a reality. Siggy strived for real things. Like murder and mayhem, no matter where. Fuck what people think; one day, they would rue hating her. Spitting when she walked past would turn to cheering.

Siggy followed Hvitserk into a room filled with mirrors. Stopping by one, she stared into it. Her reflection was strange, and it looked so much how a Viking should, covered in blood and armed with a weapon. Yet it looked nothing like her. Her usually crazy eyes were dull; they looked empty and soulless like Bjorn's do when he is angry.

She snarled and drew her fist back to punch the mirror. A hand clasped her own and tugged her away from the mirror. "Quiet," Rollo ordered, dropping her fist. He mentioned with his head to follow Bjorn and Hvitserk.

Hvitserk engaged in a battle with a man; Siggy rolled her eyes and moved on, confident in Hvitserk's ability to survive. "Watch out!" Rollo called out; the blonde saw Bjorn move in from the corner of her eye.

The reflection behind him showed a bulky man with a small scythe-like blade gaining upon her. She spun on her heel and slashed at his head with her sword. Her attacker was faster, though; he stopped her attack and hit the weapon from her hand. Bjorn moved closer with his ax ready.

Siggy growled at him and slammed her fist into the man's belly. He stumbled back and slashed at her. The unarmed shieldmaiden spun out of the way. Her back hit a mirror, she ran up at him, jumping on top of his back.

The bald man was taller, bulkier, and older than her but stupider. He slammed himself against a mirror, trying to shake her off as she choked him out. He repeatedly kept hitting her against the mirror, hoping she would let her grip slip.

Bjorn slashed at him with his axe; the man moved away. Siggy used the next moment he tried to slam her against the mirror to plant her feet against it instead. She pushed them both off; the man lost balance and faceplanted the ground.

Siggy rolled off him and turned him on his side. He reached for her throat, but the young Vőlva swatted the hand away and pushed her thumbs into his eyes. The man screamed in pain as she squeezed his bald head and pressed his eyes in. He tried to push her off, but Siggy didn't budge.

Bjorn, Rollo, and Hvitserk stood by as Siggy slowly squeezed his head till it cracked like a ripe watermelon. What once was his head was now a mess of bones, brain, and bloody flesh. Siggy still sat on his belly, her hands squeezing the remains of her attacker's head.

She slowly stood up and lifted her gaze from his corpse; she flicked her hand at the ground, the droplets of blood and brain flying off. Her cold expression slowly lifted into a crazy primal smile; she giggled and mock bowed in front of the trio. "I don't need your help."

"Obviously," Rollo commented, pride visible on his face. "Let's move."

They slowly crept into a dark room, Bjorn leading the way with Siggy in the very back. Rollo stopped by a curtain and signaled at Bjorn to walk over. The Ragnarsson opened the curtain, ready to strike down the man if it weren't for Rollo.

"Wait," He mentioned at the open eyes of the guard. "He is already dead. He killed himself."

The men ignored him and moved on; Siggy walked past the man and her uncle with no concern for either. She just cracked a man's skull open; what was a suicidal man to her? She got to find a rag, or else the blood would be a pain to wash off. Obviously, her issues had a bigger value. Maybe because the man was dead and no longer had problems to worry about.

"What do you think he was guarding?" Rollo asked, showing off the key that the dead guard had in his hand. They kicked the now unlocked door in, startling the women hiding behind it. They ran off in fear, the group of men and Siggy walking inside. Hvitserk snickered and Rollo in the shoulder. He was giddy and horny, and honestly, it was so tiring for Siggy. He was like an excited puppy without a leash, and what was she supposed to do? She had no interest in women.

Despite that did she walk in, watching the room from her spot in between Rollo and Bjorn. "Suppose there is nothing for you." Rollo joked, only for her to roll her eyes. She stalked off and pulled a woman up from her cushions. The scared woman shrieked in fright, begging Siggy in a foreign language. Siggy tutted at her, reached for something on the pillow behind her.

Smugly, she held the instrument up for the men and woman to see. "I promised Sigurd an instrument. You do what you want to." With that, she stalked off, leaving the women to their fate. Stealing and murder were one thing; she had no desire to watch them rape, especially if anyone from her blood relations decided to participate.

On her way out, she passed Halfdan and Harald. "Siggy." Halfdan mussed, watching the bloody shieldmaiden pass them by with a lute in her hands. Siggy nodded at them and left the whorehouse. She was too tired for this shit, and her head felt heavy, hands and legs weak.

She let the crowd of singing Vikings push her towards the ships; her eyes are unfocused as the aftermath of her vision set in. Luckily it wasn't the worst vision she had, and it was tiring but not so much that she couldn't make her way back alone.

A slender hand took her by the shoulders and led her forward faster. Siggy's blue eyes trailed up the man's body to see Floki. The boatbuilder made his way up to Helga, who dragged some scared foreigner girl with her. "Helga!"

"Floki!"

"Who is she?" The girl tried to flee, but Helga tugged her back, shushing her while walking behind the other slaves.

"She is an orphan." Her eyes were pleading. Siggy glared down at the small, terrified child.

"So?" Siggy nodded sluggishly. The two already took in one orphan, and that was Siggy. And the girl liked being an only child, and it was nicer that way, with no annoying siblings to snoop around. That was Ivar's job anyway.

"She is the same age as Angrboda. The same age that she would have been." Helga explained, frantically waiting for her husband's approval.

"What do you want to do with her, Helga?"

"I want to take her with us."

The two struggle as Floki tries to pry the girl away, but Helga runs off, leaving her husband and adoptive daughter behind. Floki watched her in disbelief before softly turning to the confused Siggy.

He bent his knees to be her height and cupped her cheeks in his hands. "Did you have a vision?" He, eyes looking for a sign of injury or damage.

"I am alright. We have to let the girl go." She mumbled and stumbled after Helga. Floki watched her try to make her way back before he took her by the elbow and subtly guided her before she tripped and fell.

The next day, Floki left to join the men while Siggy stayed behind with Helga and the hostage. Because that is what Tanaruz was, to Helga, she was a new chance at raising a child. But the reality was that the girl was taken from her home and people and kept close as some sort of symbol. Tanaraz was an orphan because of the Vikings, and now they are forcing her to play house. Siggy pitied the girl.

"Not in front of Tanaruz!" Helga pleaded, hiding the girl's face in her bosom. Siggy sighed and looked up from her work. She stayed behind to talk to the gods, not to babysit Helga and her little prisoner.

Siggy dropped her dagger back into the wooden bowl and rolled her eyes. "I had a vision with Aslaug, and I need to know why. I am going to pray to Odin. Floki stopped me yesterday 'cause I was weak. Now I have enough energy and can't do it because of her."

"Her name is Tanaruz, and she is your sister." Helga insisted, shushing the scared girl. Siggy watched the shaking girl with skin the color of mud. Her eyes trailed back up to Helga, disbelief obvious on her face. "Go out the back of the tent; I will watch."

With a dramatic sigh and eye roll, Siggy stood up and stomped her way outside. She sat on the grass and cut a line down her palm. Slowly she watched the blood drip into the bowl. Closing her eyes, she whispered the words to praise Odin.

"Hail to Odin, Allfather, breath-giver, seeker of wisdom, seizer of knowledge, a gift for a gift, value for value, pain for insight, all you know well. The sons and daughters of ash and elm call to you, wise one of many names. We give you thanks for our own might, we give you thanks for the gift of will, for choices offered, for the long view taken. Hail to Odin! Hail the wanderer!"

Her mind started to go blank; she dipped her fingers into the pool of blood and dragged them down from her eyes to her chest. The blonde bought the bowl of blood to her pink lips and chugged the red liquid. The iron taste in her mouth made her sigh in satisfaction. Her ears grew deaf, her eyes blind, and her mind blank. Odin heard her prayer and came to answer.

When she came back to consciousness, Helga was sitting by her side on the bed. Tanaruz watched the girl from her spot on the floor, her eyes trailing to the cut on Siggy's hand. "This was one worse than any before." Helga fretted, running to change out the water that she cleaned her face with.

That left Tanaruz and Siggy alone. The two watched each other with wary eyes. Finally, the blonde led in and rose from the bed. She trotted over to the table and drank the whole flagon of water. The sounds as it dropped to the ground startled the poor little girl. Siggy looked at her and threw something her way.

Tanaruz flinched; she hid her face behind her hands and waited for it to kill her. But instead, something hit the ground before her. The girl looked down at the ground from between her small fingers, and there laid an apple.

She looked at Siggy in disbelief; the tall blonde just stared back, another apple in her hand. Not breaking eye contact, Siggy bit into it loudly, the juices running down her chin. She raised her eyebrows at the girl and pointed at the apple.

Tanaruz picked the apple up and slowly took a tiny bite that made Siggy smile. With a finger in front of her lips, Siggy signaled for her to be quiet, and then she left the tent. By the time Helga returned with freshwater, Siggy was gone, and Tanaruz ate the apple. The older blonde sighed but praised Tanaruz for finally eating.

Rollo, Hvitserk, Bjorn, Halfdan, and Harald stood up on a cliff, watching the place they conquered. Siggy climbed up the cliff, the scarf she wrapped around her head whipping in the wind. The cawing of crows followed her like devoted servants. She could feel Odin's presence near, so she let it guide her to the men.

Further up, she could see Hvitserk and Bjorn wander off, probably looking at the crows. Finally, she made her up the hill to meet them. The others turned to face her as well. Rollo looked down at her bandaged hand and frowned. "Did that happen yesterday?"

Hvitserk looked at her and frowned; he knew that vacant look all too well. "Maybe you should rest, no?"

"Your father is dead." She spat, startling everyone present. "Killed by serpents. Cold in the cold, iron earth, Ragnar lies."

Silence fell over them, no one doing anything for a moment. It was like the world stopped. Hvitserk wracked his brain for an explanation why Siggy said those things. But nothing came to his mind. Luckily Bjorn spoke up. "So you heard it too... Odin came to tell us as well."

Siggy walked up to Hvitserk and frowned at him with a bittersweet smile. "Queen Aslaug, daughter of Sigurd and Brynhildr, Princess of Götoland is dead, and her blood is on the hands of the new ruler of Kattegat."

Hvitserk watched her with moist eyes, took her by the shoulders, and shook her. "Did Odin tell you that?!"

Siggy frowned, the cawing stopped, and Odin was gone. She was all alone now, surrounded by power-hungry men in need of answers. "I know what I know, and I said what I said." She hugged him and buried her face into his neck. "I am sorry. I thought she came to me to tell me of Ragnar. If I had known she came to say goodbye."

She pulled back and stared into Bjorn's curious eyes. "Let's return to the camp, and we need to go back." He replied and walked past his blood daughter. Siggy turned to see him go and frowned.

"They will pay in blood for what they have done. Odin said so. Ragnar requested it."

"I know."

#vikings #vikings siggy #history vikings #Siggy #Siggy Bjornsdottir #siggy lothbrok #Siggy lives

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once-upon-a-pirate-ship · 3 years ago

Text

it would kill me (if you didn't know)

I know. Trust me, I know. But I've been working on my novel, and when this fic slapped me in the face last night, I just went with it. And so should you.

Neverland AU - canon divergence for somewhere in 3a

(Blatant disregard of canon to follow--don't make me rewatch the show, please)

They saved Henry but all got separated in the process, and when they finally made it back to the ship, Emma realized that they were down a man. She's just gonna have to save him.

This features some pretty awesome Emma/David bonding, too.

This is a classic 'Killian's been taken while saving them and now he's being tortured and Emma isn't gonna stand for it' fic. I've read them all, and I just needed more. POV switches 3rd person between Killian and the others.

Thanks in advance for accepting the sidestepping of canon that I love to do.

Rated M for language and violence

length: 5k+

Read it on ao3

In retrospect, it wasn’t the greatest plan he’d ever had. But it also wasn’t the worst. Well, it could hardly even be called a plan, really, given that the consideration for it occurred in approximately three seconds, but he was hardly going to worry about it now. There were other things to worry about.

The thing that Killian Jones, pirate captain of the Jolly Roger and unofficial Neverland guide to Swan (and the others), needed to be worried about was the little demon child Peter fucking Pan who stood over him with that stupid evil smirk on his lips.

“Seems like you’ve finally lost, pirate,” Pan spat, but the amusement in his tone only sharpened the anger in his eyes.

Killian’s gaze flickered from the child to the grove in the distance, and when he saw not a trace of the others, he returned his attention to Pan. “Aye, I suppose so,” he said, his voice rough though calm and certain.

Pan’s brow furrowed. “Really? No witty remark? No promise to skin me alive?” he taunted. “You’ve changed your tune, Hook.”

He resisted rolling his eyes, instead gripping his wounded shoulder a little tighter. The arrow wasn’t poisoned—he’d have felt it working by now—but it wasn’t helping his predicament at all. Neither was the sizeable gash on his abdomen that Felix had been kind enough to gift him when he’d been distracted.

“Have I?” Killian asked. “I wonder what you’ll do with me now,” he added dryly. He knew. Oh, he knew.

Pan’s eyes flashed, and in an instant he was crouching towards Killian, his hand grasping the protruding arrow. “Now, I get to have my fun,” he declared with a cruel twist of his lips and an even crueler twist of the arrow.

But Killian Jones was no stranger to pain. They were intimately acquainted. That’s how he grit his teeth and buried it until nothing but a tiny grunt sounded from deep within his throat. Pan wouldn’t consider his torture much fun if he didn’t scream in agony, so he would keep playing until Killian could fight it no longer. And he’d let him. Because egging him on would make him lash out, and ensuring him of Swan’s victory would put her and the lad in danger. Pan had spent his time since their arrival playing games with them, distracting them from the important things they’d come there to do. It was only fair that Killian would return the favor.

So the demon could pull out all his toys, could whip him and carve into his flesh, could burn him until his skin was blackened ash, but nothing would stop Killian Jones from protecting his loved ones. And gods above, he loved Emma Swan.

All she wanted to know was how the fuck this happened. Their plan had been so perfect that even she couldn’t doubt it, but somehow the winds had shifted or their luck had run out or her luck had run out, and when they returned to the Jolly Rodger and the groups had reunited, they’d been down a man. Down a captain.

Neal, for all his talk of fighting for her, didn’t seem to mind not fighting for something that she actually cared about. He was running for president of the Let’s Leave the Pirate Here Club, and that wasn’t exactly a great way to get into her good graces, though that would’ve been hard enough as it was.

Regina, predictably, prioritized Henry to a fault—Emma was always for prioritizing her son, but not when it came to sacrificing her values or her morals or whatever, fine, she just didn’t want to sacrifice him. Henry was okay, he was safe, and they could take precautions to ensure that he would stay that way, but Regina just didn’t care or didn’t think it was worth it. A good option for Neal’s vice president.

In all her silent canvassing of the group’s feelings regarding Operation Save Hook (Henry was asleep, okay? He could come up with a better name when he woke up), Emma blatantly ignored Gold. For obvious reasons.

Tink was mostly for saving him, but not confident enough in any plan she could offer to make it stick. She’d tried to sway Regina, but that had been less than successful.

Then it was her parents. And, for once, they weren’t in total agreement.

Mary Margaret was sympathetic, to be sure, but not enough. She wasn’t in the Let’s Leave the Pirate Here Club, but she was Queen of Save My Kid and Her Kid Kingdom, so that was that.

But David—that’s what had caught her attention.

When they’d first discovered Hook’s absence and began discussing their options, Emma had held back and held her breath, unwilling to reveal her hand without knowing where the others stood. She’d gone into full Observant Mode, and that’s when she saw David, her father, and his reaction.

His face stiffened, an automatic move to hide his feelings, but Emma saw through it, even when Mary Margaret didn’t (or didn’t want to see it). It was a set jaw, a twitching lip that was almost a frown, tensed shoulders that eventually gave way to firmly crossed arms because apparently, Emma had gotten her Observant Mode from her father, and that’s what he was doing.

A few minutes into the conversation had nothing decided, but Emma shifted her stance, and her father looked her way. Their eyes locked, and while the others continued their pathetic excuse for a rescue discussion, father and daughter exchanged practically imperceptible nods, and then they were allies.

It’s what gave her the strength to step forward at last and disregard whatever half-assed ‘it’s too late’ speech Neal had been giving with a pointed clearing of her throat.

“David and I will go back for him while you guys get the ship ready,” Emma announced. Regina did that haughty half-step back that meant something between ‘I don’t care’ and ‘do whatever you want,’ and Mary Margaret’s only response was to look questioningly at her husband. Tinker Bell gave an enthusiastic nod of approval before busying herself with some bit of the rigging she may or may not have actually understood how to work.

Neal, however, was predictably Neal. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ems,” he said, that stupid nickname that he had no fucking right to use.

Emma’s head turned slowly to her ex, regarding him with the coldest gaze she’d ever offered anyone. Regina had some competition as head of the Looks That Could Kill Committee. “Hm, okay. Well, you don’t have to think it’s a good idea, because you’re staying here.”

“Emma—”

“There’s no discussion, Neal. No discussion from anyone, but especially from you. You have no right to talk, or interfere, and you especially have no right to argue against saving the man who is the reason your own son is alive and safe now.”

Mary Margaret was staring at her when she turned away from him, her eyes wide and openly confused, but she said nothing. David, however, had his eyes cutting into Neal, narrowed and calculating and damn, he was putting pieces together and he wasn’t liking the picture.

“Ready?” Emma asked her father.

He forced himself to look away. “Just have to grab one thing,” he told her, shaking his head at something Mary Margaret had said before he disappeared below.

Neal had huffed away after Emma’s little scolding, and he pouted at the exact opposite end from where his father pouted. Regina looked disinterested and mildly irritated, but when Emma glanced at her, she nodded towards Gold with a raised eyebrow.

Emma’s lips curled in something like a grateful smile, and she passed her bewildered mother on her way to the Dark One.

“You have something,” Emma said as soon as she stood in front of him. “Something to get Pan.”

“I do, Miss Swan,” he replied, that stupid tone that told her he had tricks up those stupid sleeves of his.

She hummed. “No, there’s no deal this time. No price. I’m done with games. So you can either give it to me, or I can take it from you.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Take it from me?” he asked, entirely amused by the concept.

“I’m done with your shit, Crocodile. You can play Dark One with me all you want, but we both know it’s just easier to just hand it over.”

He glared at her for a long moment, but eventually he cracked, and he glanced at his son who looked out at the water and away from them both. “Fine. But only because I’ve no use for it anyway.”

She took the box he offered, resisting the urge to mutter, ‘yes, that’s why,’ as he explained how it worked. When he’d finished, she offered him a simple but genuine “thank you,” before joining her father once more.

“Here,” David said, passing her another cutlass, one she hadn’t seen before. “You need a new weapon,” he added.

“And I’m borrowing…”

“Hook’s. An extra,” he said. “Figured he wouldn’t mind.”

“Right,” she mumbled, taking it with a frown and securing it quickly. “Well then, let’s go.”

For all his talk of being intimately acquainted with pain, Killian Jones was doing a piss-poor job of hiding it. The cracks in his resolve were starting to widen, and when hums and grunts became groans and low growls, he knew it was only a matter of time before Pan started to truly have his fun.

He’d been more clever this time around, to be sure. It had to have been at least a century since Killian had gotten cozy with the demon’s knife (or arrowhead, or branding iron, or whatever particular weapon he’d chosen to use that time), but Pan had certainly honed his skills quite a bit since then.

But Killian was sure that Swan had taken her lad and the others far away by now, and the knowledge that he’d helped her, that he’d kept his word, allowed him the strength he needed to keep the screams from coming.

For a while.

Pan, though, had used a trick on him he’d never experienced, and the shock alone was enough to get it working for a little while.

That trick came in the form of her, of Emma Swan, and the name had fallen from his lips like a prayer, hope that he’d never felt before rising like a rushing tide in his chest, and she’d smiled at him, a radiant, lovely thing that he’d never imagined could’ve been gifted solely for him, useless pirate that he was.

But then she’d started talking, and he knew it was a trick (tides always come back, because when there’s a rise, there’s also a fall). Not at first, he’d give Pan that, because it was easy enough to believe that the smile hadn’t been for him, that she resented him, that she hadn’t meant to save him, that they were better off without him. It wasn’t what she said that tipped him off, it was how she said it. Because Killian Jones had studied her since the moment she uncovered his pathetic hide in that pile of bodies, and he knew her—more than she knew herself, to her dismay—and he could read her. She was an open book, after all.

When her eyes didn’t burn like he knew they should’ve when she spoke of anger and hatred, he knew. When her lips didn’t quirk in that one specific way when she mentioned abandoning him, he knew. And then she spoke about her parents and Baelfire, and it was all wrong, because Emma Swan had walls, and even Neverland wasn’t enough to break them down so quickly.

Wherever she was, Emma Swan wasn’t about to run into her parents’ arms and live happily ever after with them and her True Love, because she wasn’t there yet. He knew her. He knew how hard it was for her to open up to him, someone who understood her from such shared experiences, and that wasn’t something she could just overlook as soon as she returned home. They’d hurt her—here, in Neverland, with assumptions and confessions and automatic behaviors, but also before. And if she did wish to ride off into the sunset with Baelfire, Neal, it wasn’t going to happen right away, because Killian had watched her while she shifted away from Neal when he’d moved towards her. He’d seen the way she recoiled at his touch, how she’d narrowed those jade eyes at his words, how she didn’t trust him, not anymore.

No, the Emma Swan that stood before his beaten and bruised body was a copy, and a bad one. When she hadn’t achieved her goal, she disappeared, and Pan took her place, and though he knew the demon was mocking him and prodding him with insults and hoping they’d smash the last of his resolve, he wasn’t ready to give in just yet.

Killian Jones was waiting for something. He just couldn’t figure out what it was.

“What’d he do?”

Emma faltered, the blade missing the piece of jungle shit in her path she’d been trying to cut down. “What? Who?”

“Neal,” her father said, clearing the vines for her before they continued on.

“Oh,” she sounded, pulling her lips together as she considered what to say. He’d noticed it before, and she knew that. He wasn’t stupid, nor was he as hope-prone and naive as Mary Margaret could often be. And they had another few miles to go, at least. “He left,” she said.

David stopped, a hand on her arm that was more than just an attempt to stop her from walking, too. “He left you?” he asked, his eyes somehow tight with rage and tender with something she wanted to dub dad-ness, because no one had ever looked at her like that before.

Emma huffed, because now was definitely not the time for Feelings, now was the time to rescue a goddamn pirate from whatever the hell Peter fucking Pan was doing to him. “He set me up to take the fall for his crime and let me go to prison instead. I didn’t find out I was pregnant until I was already in jail.”

David blinked once, twice, and then his expression was consumed by dad-anger (because it was just a different brand of anger that she’d also never seen before). “Emma—”

“It was a long time ago, dad.” They both started at the name, dad, because she’d never really used it before. A few times she’d said it, but it was something she’d had to force, a correction or a pointed joke, sometimes a near-death thing, but this was different. Authentic. Slightly heartbreaking.

“We don’t have time for this,” she muttered as she turned away, but neither was surprised, and even her dad wasn’t hurt, because Emma had her walls, and that was okay, because she’d needed them to survive this long. And if he had to put in a little time and effort to help take them down, that didn’t bother him one bit.

“I was kinda surprised that you wanted to come,” she said after a while, unable to bear the tense atmosphere any longer.

David gave her a half-smile, slicing another thicket (because they’d grown over since they’d returned to the ship. Fuck Neverland, honestly). “He did save my life, you know. And he was saving Henry when an arrow hit him—before your mother and I got separated from the group. I wasn’t about to leave him for dead after he took an arrow for my grandson.”

Emma froze, nearly dropping the cutlass that wasn’t hers. “He saved Henry?”

Her father’s eyebrows furrowed. “I thought you knew that,” he said. “So why are you so eager to help him? If you didn’t know.”

Her lips parted only to press together firmly, and when she spoke, they both knew it wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the whole truth. “Because I don’t leave people behind. And even without the arrow, he still saved Henry. He brought us here.”

David studied her for a moment, and these pieces were coming together faster now, and quite suddenly, the picture made a lot of sense. “He came back.”

“For Henry. And Neal,” she replied.

“And you.”

She couldn’t deny it, and he knew that. But it surprised him that he didn’t mind it as much as he had before. Emma’s walls, no matter how much he wished he could change it, were in part because of him and Snow. They saved her, yes, but they abandoned her when they did it. And Neal had likely been the cause of the other fortress that surrounded her, because he’d abandoned her, too.

So if the pirate had gained her trust and her respect because he hadn’t abandoned her, then that was good. David had seen plenty of love and devotion in his life, but he’d never seen loyalty like the kind that burned in Captain Hook. Centuries in search of revenge for the one he’d loved and lost. That wasn’t the man who would turn around and abandon her the second the opportunity arose.

No, without him or the pirate realizing it, he’d pretty much gained his blessing. Because David knew damn well that if the roles were reversed, not even if Emma herself were in danger, but if Hook were here in his place and someone she loved was being tortured, there’s no one he would trust more than Captain Hook to help her. Neal had barely batted an eye. But he was apparently quite skilled at leaving people to rot.

David was just beginning to contemplate how to handle that particular situation when the screams started.

He took his daughter’s hand, meeting her huge and watery eyes, and they ran.

He’d held on so long, but it was worth it. It was worth it. No, she was worth it. Emma Swan was worth it.

Emma. Emma. Emma.

Her name became a mantra, a song in his head to fill the space between screams.

Killian Jones had loved Milah. He never doubted that, and his love for another didn’t negate it, either. He wasn’t sure what made his love for Emma Swan sharper, deeper, but it was just different. His working theory was that they’d both loved before, both been hurt before, both lingered in something that was slightly less than pure. Whatever had happened with Baelfire couldn’t have been perfect, because it hurt her. And she’d been so young when she’d had Henry. Milah wasn’t faultless, either. Ironically enough, that point was proven by Baelfire.

Killian had spoken to her about it for hours. She’d spun tales of rescuing the lad, taking him from his pathetic father and bringing him aboard, but it never happened. It wasn’t until Henry was taken from Swan that he realized the downfall of his Milah. He’d known it, truly, but nothing would have stopped Swan from getting back her son, and it should’ve been the same with Milah.

For a moment, the pain of his guilt overwhelmed the pain of Pan’s lash that sliced into his back.

But that was what made his love for Emma Swan different.

Try something new, darling. It’s called trust.

Be a part of something.

Too bad he’d never have the chance to explain it all to her.

Emma had seen so much in her life. So much pain, so much ugliness—it had made her start to believe that there was really nothing else. But then Henry showed up at her door, and things changed.

Now, standing in her hiding place with her father, she was forced to watch as the demon child inflicted brutal and unrelenting torture to Captain Hook—no, no, he wasn’t Hook anymore. Not after this. He was Killian Jones, and she was going to save him.

She just couldn’t jump in and do it. Not without a plan.

Once they’d decided who was the distraction and who was taking the box, they were ready, but she wasn’t. Each scream pierced her heart, and by this point, the tears were just a permanent fixture that neither of them acknowledged. You couldn’t listen to that kind of pain and not feel it down to your goddamn soul. And she knew that as much as it hurt to hear it, Killian was hurting a thousand times worse while he endured it.

It had only been hours, maybe, but she’d never seen a person look so broken and not be actually dead, and it felt like her fault. Because maybe if she’d been strong and reasonable enough to let go of Henry’s hand for even a second, she would’ve realized that he wasn’t at her side like he was supposed to be. Sure, they’d all been separated into groups that slowly returned to the ship, but she should’ve known. She should’ve been there. He shouldn’t have been here.

None of that mattered now. It was time to save him, and then she could worry about everything else.

Her father kissed her forehead, brushing her tears with his thumbs and offering her a reassuring nod that said we’ve got this, and then he disappeared to play his part. When she stepped into the clearing, she was much more confident than she had any right to be.

“Pan.”

The kid snapped to attention, whirling around to look at her. “Really? You’ve come to rescue the pirate?”

His words, his face, his stupid grin pissed her the fuck off, but what really sold it, the thing that solidified everything for her was the sight of Killian’s hook tucked into Peter Pan’s pocket like it was a fucking souvenir.

“Well, you know what they say about us hero types,” Emma stalled, keeping herself from glancing at Killian where he lay in the dirt. “We don’t leave anyone behind. We come back for everyone. It’s just in our nature.” She had no idea what she was actually saying, she was just talking, just waiting until her father got into place.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you take the pirate, Emma. He’s mine, you see,” Pan told her, and she thought that he’d never looked less than a child with the straight-up evil in his eyes and the weapon in his hand.

She folded her arms across her chest, pulling on strength she didn’t have. “Hm, no, I don’t think he is,” she said, letting some of her anger seep into her voice. “He’s a pirate, sure, but you and I both know that he’s pretty determined about that good form nonsense, and he made me a promise, you know,” Emma continued. “He told me he’d see to it that Henry gets home safely. He can’t do that if he’s here.”

Pan’s shoulders shifted as his chest puffed out, and he wanted something. “How about this,” he said, “the pirate in exchange for your son.”

Emma scoffed. “As I told the Dark One earlier, I’m done playing games. No deals. I’m leaving this island with my son and my pirate and everyone else, and that’s it. You lose, kid.”

Peter Pan grinned, and if she hadn’t just seen David out of the corner of her eye, she would’ve been terrified. “How’s that? I’m not going to let you leave with Henry or the pirate, no matter how much you’re convinced I’m going to,” he said, almost petulant.

“Sorry, I should’ve been clearer,” Emma smiled, “I should’ve mentioned the part about you being captured. Whoops. Too late.”

Emma surged forward, snatching the hook just before Pan was sucked into Pandora’s box from David’s outstretched hand. Neither he nor Emma hesitated for a second before they rushed to Killian where he was no more than a pile of cuts and bruises on the ground, stripped of his coat and his vest and his bravado.

David rolled him onto his side carefully, shooting her a concerned look when he didn’t even flinch.

The hook fell from her grasp and onto the ground beside them. “Killian?” Emma said softly, her hand reaching out to ghost across his sweaty forehead. If she didn’t see the rise and fall of his chest in time with the shuddering breaths he took, she would’ve been certain he was dead, because anyone else would’ve been dead.

“Emma, I have no idea how we’re going to move him when he’s like this,” her father told her, and if he were someone else, that would’ve meant that they’d run out of options, but hope was the family motto.

Emma pushed out a breath, bringing her hands back to her face, running them over her hair and locking a few fingers around her necklace. “Alright, okay, lemme think,” she said, but of course that was when her brain turned to absolute mush.

Time, nonexistent here though it was, was marked with Killian’s shaky breaths, and several minutes passed before David spoke. “Emma…” he began, and when she looked at him, that family motto was shining in his eyes. “Emma, you have magic. You can heal him.”

“I—” I can’t, she wanted to say. But it didn’t matter that she’d never done it, that she had no idea how to, because she’d do it. She’d do anything to save this stupid, ridiculous, insufferable, amazing pirate. He promised that he’d win her heart, and she wasn’t about to lose him right when she finally had a chance to let him.

“How?” she asked, hoping—yes, Emma Swan did things like hope now—he’d know something helpful.

David hesitated, as if he were gathering everything he’d ever learned about magic. “Okay, your magic is about emotion, right?” At her nod, he continued, “Well, that’s good, because you’re feeling a lot of things right now. You want to help him, to heal him, so maybe think about why?”

Emma chuckled, and it was a watery thing, but she wiped the dampness from her cheeks. “I don’t think I’ve cried this much since…I have no idea when,” she confessed.

David met her gaze, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. “Use it.”

She took a breath, her eyes slamming shut so she could focus, but her hand didn’t leave her father’s.

Why was she crying now, this much, after everything? She wasn’t a crier (you couldn’t be in the system that long and still be a crier), so what had changed? All at once, she knew.

Captain Hook is what changed. Killian Jones had towered her walls, and now she was crying over him. Because she felt things. Things with a capital ‘t,’ and it was the first time in her life that she was finally, truly letting herself feel Things, the first time she honestly wanted to. There hadn’t really been a choice with Neal. He was just there, and that’s why she’d loved him. She was young, and he offered her this tiny piece of security and she’d latched onto it, and that was it. It wasn’t even about him, not really, not when she broke it down like that. Everything she felt for Killian Jones was about him.

Right from the start, he’d terrified her, because he could see right through her walls like they were made of glass. He read her because he already spoke the fucking language, but she hadn’t let herself understand that piece until later. But how many times had she been standing beside her family (she had that now), knowing that things were off or just not feeling right because they didn’t quite get it—but then she’d looked over and he’d been watching her because he got it. He knew. And he came back.

Killian Jones had never abandoned her. Well, there was that one time he locked her in a cell, but that was only because she’d just chained him up on the top of a beanstalk and it was honestly only fair, so that was different. Every moment when she waited for him to race off while in Neverland, when leaving her to her fate would’ve been the smart and easy thing to do, he’d proven her wrong (but she wasn’t really wrong, because she didn’t really believe it. She’d trusted him right from the start, and each time he didn’t leave her was somehow both totally surprising and totally predictable).

But it wasn’t just that. It was everything she saw in him when he thought no one was looking. The shadows that crossed his face when they ran into something familiar, the hesitance when offered assistance by anyone, the mysteriously filled waterskins that appeared by her bedroll after his watch. Everything he did for her and her family was a promise that he was no longer a villain—that maybe he’d never actually been one—and she could doubt everyone else (except for Henry), but she couldn’t doubt Killian Jones.

She was falling for him. Hard. She probably already would’ve fallen if she’d let herself, especially if she’d gone with her gut at the top of that beanstalk and trusted him, so she wasn’t about to let him die.

Emma raised her free hand, feeling all of her Feelings and thinking all of the Things, and she healed him, because she needed to. She felt the warmth that radiated from her palm, and when her eyes flickered open, there was a brilliant light that washed over his face and followed the path of her hand as she hovered along his body. The cuts shrank, sealing themselves while the blood seeped back into his skin, and when his breaths were no longer labored, she knew he was healed.

Her father gave her a proud smile (it was watery, too), but their attention was quickly brought back to the groaning pirate.

Killian’s eyes took several fluttering blinks before they focused correctly, and when he spoke, it was no more than a disoriented grunt. “Swan?”

“We’re here,” she said, releasing David’s hand to take Killian’s. “We trapped Pan, Henry’s safe on the Jolly Roger, and now all we need is for you to take us home.”

His eyes were stormy when he looked up at her, and his rough palm lined up with her soft one, and for a single, fleeting moment, it was as if he’d never felt pain in his life. The warmth, the ease, the life he felt holding Emma Swan’s hand made him briefly forget the hours of torture from Pan, and for what may have honestly been the first time in his life, Killian Jones felt safe.

There were many questions that he needed to ask, ones he hadn’t had the chance to think of with his present exhaustion, but he pushed them aside, because she was smiling that smile, the one he’d never imagined could be directed and him, and it lacked the tightness that Pan’s version had. Where Pan’s version had pranced around words, the real Swan was straight to the point and not flowery about anything. But what was most comforting about this Swan was that even though her smile was warm and lovely and nothing like he’d ever seen on her lips, he could see her walls hidden in her gaze, that lingering hesitance, and he knew. She’d come back for him.

“Think you can walk?” David asked him, and it almost made the pirate jump (centuries of always being on his guard, always prepared and aware of his surroundings, and Emma Swan gave him one smile and held his only hand and that was enough to block out the rest of the realm).

Killian nodded, and with some careful maneuvering by Swan and her father, he was upright. He wavered slightly—blood loss, he reasoned, because Emma had definitely healed him with her magic, but there was only so much magic could do—but they secured both of his arms without delay.

“Oh,” Emma paused, bending down to grab his hook. “Thought you’d want this back,” she added with a smile that was almost sheepish.

It was the way she held it that made him lightheaded (not at all related to the blood loss). Her hand was wrapped around the metal like it was nothing but also everything. She didn’t fear it, didn’t scrunch her nose at it—the way she held it was like the way she held his hand: a part of him, something she couldn’t quite bring herself to let go of.

“Thank you, Emma,” he murmured, and all three of them knew it wasn’t just for returning the hook. He gestured for her to attach it, and after a glance of confirmation, she did. And he couldn’t help but feel whole.

#once upon a time fanfiction #ouat fanfic #captain swan #captain swan fanfic #cs ff #captain swan fic #ao3 #Neverland fic #ouat neverland #this is me avoiding my novel and my other actual wip

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somepinkthing · 4 years ago

Text

look at me

I wrote edelclaude and it was initially supposed to be cute but.... um. Anyways, I guess a lot of edelclaude and dimiclaude fics include claude just becoming cool with a lot of stuff very quickly and I just think I wanna see that sweet conflict. So.

VW run but with established edelclaude. Right after the holy tomb.

Might do a series of oneshots depending on how this one does. I love these two idiots.

---

“Your ideals, I can understand. They are not so far removed from my own,” Edelgard told him, telling herself it sounded less like a plea than it felt, “You can join me. Together, we can create the world we want to see.”

Claude shot her a lopsided smile, a flash of white teeth in the dark of the Sealed Forest. There one minute, gone the next. It seemed even the unflappable Claude von Riegan couldn’t keep up a smile in these circumstances.

“You just want me to bring teach,” he joked. A flash of annoyance rose up in her. He always was good at that.

“I want you to bring as many allies as you can,” Edelgard shot back, “Including yourself.”

Especially yourself.

Claude turned his eyes to her for the first time since they met up at their secret spot in the forest. Edelgard wasn’t all too sure what she’d been hoping to find. She wasn’t exactly surprised to find Claude, should have known anger would hardly stop her lover from seeking out answers, but she couldn’t say she was expecting a confrontation so soon either. She’d thought... well, she’d rather thought her next meeting with Claude would be at the opposite ends of the battlefield, she’d counted on it. She’d prepared for it.

This? His big green eyes, vulnerable for once with exhaustion and a hint of grief? This was a hurt she had not prepared for.

“El, El, El,” he groaned, “I--You--Why’d you try to kill Lysithea? I thought you two got along.”

Edelgard couldn’t help letting out a scoff in disbelief.

“That’s your first question?”

“You gonna answer it?!”

Edelgard bit back her own snappy response. She’d never actually seen Claude so upset before, not even after Remire. Better to not push her luck if she hoped to make an ally here.

“She’s too dangerous to leave unchecked,” she answered honestly. Lysithea’s power was no secret to Claude, after all. “I have no force that could have matched hers once she managed to get her bearings. So she had to go first.”

“And for that you almost kill--you know what? Fair. Fine. Smart. I, uh, should have expected that from you.”

It sounded like an insult more than a compliment.

“Claude,” Edelgard started carefully, clenching her hands behind her back to keep from reaching out. He wasn’t hers to touch anymore, it seemed.

“Question two,” he cut in, “What’s going to happen now?”

Edelgard bit her lip.

“You already know what happens now.”

Now, it was war. She wouldn’t play into Claude’s games by reliving exactly what she intended to do. He knew, the game was to make her admit it.

“I know how war works, yes. I read your manifesto too, very well done by the way. But what about the students? Are you gonna let them escape or will you cut them down? Your own classmates?”

He asked it so casually, as if she knew the answer. As if she hadn’t agonized over the very same question every day for the past year. Could Ferdinand be convinced to fight for her? Could Yuri be coaxed from Abyss? Could she explain her connection with those monsters to Lysithea in a way that would make her understand? Could she afford to spare Dimitri? Could she leave them an opening? Would it come back to bite her?

Could she allow Claude to live?

“I will not kill anyone who doesn’t stand in my way,” she answered neutrally.

“And what counts as standing in your way?” Claude challenged back. Always challenging, always asking the hard questions.

“Claude,” she hissed, “If it is not your intention to help me, say so. Take a stand for once and declare which side you are on. Mine or hers.”

Claude chuckled.

“El, I’ve heard that question so many times I’m half sick of it. Are you this or that, one or the other? I’ve heard it enough to know there’s always a third option, one that they’d deny you. You know what? Neither side.”

And wasn’t that just classic Claude? Always with the third option, always with the “better way”. As if change could afford to wait for the perfect way to drop into their laps. Did he think she wanted things to be like this?

“Neither isn’t an option!” she yelled out in frustration.

“Neutrality is protected under international law actually, not that anyone in Fodlan seems to know what that is,” he muttered the last half under his breath.

“Claude! Stop playing around!”

“El. I’m dead serious this time.”

She sucked in a breath. Claude let out a sigh. Silence reigned supreme in their secret spot where laughter and lively debate rang out just yesterday. Claude, almost reading her thoughts, turned to look around at their little hidden alcove nostalgically.

“I love you, El. How’s that for a declaration?”

Edelgard wondered if she looked paler. Impossible as it would be, she felt paler. Claude’s words were his best weapon just as Edelgard’s resolve was hers. For all the tea parties spent discussing near mutinous topics, for all the times they snuck away from prying eyes for Claude to teach her odd dances he picked up somewhere she doubted was Fodlan, for all the times they’d sat in this very spot and held each other through their worst nights, Claude had never said those words. He couldn’t afford to. And Edelgard couldn’t afford to hear them.

“Haha, don’t look so sick,” Claude laughed, “I was just joking. Guess I just… wanted to see how you’d react.”

Edelgard knew how to take an out when so obviously presented.

“You shouldn’t joke about things like this. If I was more prone to emotion, I’d slap you.”

“Sorry, sorry, please don’t. You hit hard,” Claude griped.

Yes, she did. She could still remember Claude crumbling and clutching at his left shoulder. She wondered if it was healed now or if he’d somehow escaped from Manuela’s motherly grasp before the blood had even dried. That’d be so like him--Manuela and the professor must be beside themselves.

Manuela…

Byleth…

“Claude…”

“Hm? What’s up, princess?”

If I could afford to stop, I would have considered it for you.

“I need your answer.”

“You never let up, do you?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes almost fondly.

No. Never.

Claude gave in to the silence this time. Plopping himself down onto a log with a huff, he refused to look at her as he answered, head bowed down. It’d be so easy to strike him from this position, so easy to raise her dagger and sink it into the back of his exposed neck… he actually seemed to believe she wouldn’t do it. Why else would he feel safe exposing himself like this?

Well, he’s right isn’t he? You’ve not yet steeled yourself for that. Not yet.

“I won’t get in your way, El. I have no reason to.”

There’s a but in there so loud Edelgard didn’t even need to ask about it. But he wouldn’t abandon his classmates to fire and death and ruin, but he wouldn’t give her the Alliance, but he didn’t want to fight her war.

But he wouldn’t stand by her side.

But she was all alone in this after all.

Edelgard nodded. She’d been ready to lose him from the start. Even if she hadn’t been, what clearer way was there to break up with someone than to bury an axe in their shoulder? This didn’t hurt, it didn’t.

“I see.”

Edelgard turned her back and walked away. Claude never even looked up from the floor.

---

“I’ll finish the job for you,” Claude grit out, nocking an arrow as he spoke.

Edelgard looked at the man aiming the legendary Failnaught at her with fire in his eyes. Her axe lay somewhere in the throne room, flung far from reach. She wouldn’t need it anymore.

She looked at the boy who still wore the bead she’d carved for him all those years ago, wearing his grief in the tremble of his lips. Her own matching bead was ash in the air, burned away like she’d had to burn away all the other pieces of herself.

Edelgard turned her eyes toward him. His gaze never left her.

---

#edelclaude #angst #my writing #edelgard von hresvelg #edelgard #claude von riegan #claude #fe3h #fe16 #fire emblem three houses #my fic #oneshot

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bluejaytaco · 3 years ago

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(We returned to the session with all party members floating in the waters of Fransland. The bar has “Welcome to my realm” written on it in blood. Outside of it there are strange, humanoid creatures walking around. We're in the water, Theodora had a young elf boy knocked out on her back and Art has Reita clinging to him because she doesn't know how to swim.

The water is, however, strangely buoyant.)

Theodora:(immediately swims over and hugs Koejin) I'm never letting you go again.

Koejin: (hugs back) yeah... uh, no more jumping through strange portals for a while.

Alabaster:(casts waterwalking and walks over to Art) Hello, my friend!

Art: (jumps at the sight) Holy Jesus! Hi, hello!

(We all end up swimming to shore and catching up a little bit. The creatures were something Team A was dealing with while we were in the separate universe. From the distance, some of us can see that the creatures are all attached to one cloaked figure sitting off to the side.)

Koejin: (shoots an arrow at the figure and hits it right in the head. The head pops off and rolls closer. It's Skelly)

Skelly: What the Hell?! What just happened?! Who shot me?!(all his minions just kinda stand around his head) Don't just stand there! Reattach me!

Theodora: Skelly?

Skelly: (After his head's back on, he notices us) Oh, hey guys!

Hennessy: What're you doing here?

Skelly: I don't know. Just one minute I'm minding my own business, the next I'm here with these guys (gestures to the shambling forms) Just making friends and hanging out.

Theodora: Are they.... friends by choice? (stares pointedly at the tethers)

Skelly: They're friends by MY choice!

Theodora: How long have you been here?

Skelly: A day... A week... two years and five minutes? Ehhhh....

Art: (moves to explore the tavern)

(As he moves closer, a giant red claw comes up and climbs onto the roof. Mrs. Red glares at the party. Koejin also notices humanoid Mrs. Red is on her back. Dragon Mrs. Red rears back and uses her fire breath on everyone, successfully melting Skelly into a pile of ash.

We also have a new party member, Jaquine. She is not as high of a level as us, so the blast would kill her.

But then a large tiefling woman jumps in and takes the brunt of the burn for Jaquine. She looks.... very familiar. Despite the fact that we've only really met like two tieflings.)

Tiefling woman: Everyone, inside! Now! (Jumps up on Dragon Red's face and they fly away.)

Koejin: Uh, yeah! Let's go!

Alabaster: (moving over to bring Skelly back to life)

(Skelly is now a strange pile of moving ash. He hasn't regained his original form.)

Vincent: Yesss.... burn.... (This is like... the third time he's gotten excited about some violence.)

Hennessy: Alright! You and me! We gotta talk!

(We go inside the bar to see a scawny looking white dragonborn behind the bar, cleaning a glass. Aside from him, there's only one other patron; a woman passed out in a puddle of her own drool with long, rainbow hair.)

Art: (eyes the bartender) Hey there... I'm Art... and you are? (he already knew the answer)

Dragonborn: (smiles creepily) Oh, hi! I'm Eltbalm.

Art: Right, right. (looks over at the passed out woman and frowns as he realizes it's Thia. He walks over to her)

Reita: (runs to Wreybar and points at a hole in the wall. She then dives for it and pulls out a rat. She tears the rat in half and hands part of it to Wreybar.)

Wreybar: Is it a gift or food?

Reita: (nods and bites into her half)

Wreybar, grinning: Thank you!

(Me: I'm a good big brother for letting this happen.)

(For a moment, we cut to Hennessy and Vincent talking to each other about the way he's been acting. Vincent, after being kidnapped and just all around having a shitty time, has adopted the whole idea of killing in order to make the world better. But, after a bit of talk, he's feeling a little better. Hennessy talks about how Theodora, Koejin, and Alabaster would be able to help him with whatever he needs to feel safe again. That seems to help.)

(Meanwhile, Art is gently shaking Thia awake. He gets her to snap her head up but that's about it. He gestures to Eltbalm to get them some water for her.

We all try to get her to wake up and talk with us, but to no avail. However, all of us agree that this might be the best time for a long rest. But before that)

Hennessy: Art, can I speak to you?

Art: Uh... yeah. What's up?

Hennessy: Your sister. She's still got that pink stone embedded in her back, right?

Art: Yeah... we haven't been able to remove it... why do you ask?

Hennessy: Well, while we were all superpowered by the gods, I came across a spell that might be helpful. We could create a clone copy of Reita and remove the stone from her original body. Then, if anything were to go haywire, then we can put her essence into the clone.

Art:.... I want you to think about this for a second.. Put yourself in my shoes and Vincent in Reita's.... would you still trust it?

Hennessy: If it means saving his very life and the lives of millions, then of course!

Art: Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying no. It's just... a lot. And, I mean, it's not like we can do it right now anyway, right?

Hennessy, seeing that Art doesn't fully trust the idea: Yes, but... to ease your worries... it might help to keep in mind we have a genuine necromancer on our side. (Gestures to Alabaster)

Alabaster, seeing that gesture and looks over to find out whats going on: Hello, yes!

Art: You're a necromancer now?!

Alabaster: Why yes. It's an interesting tale but yes. And I would be able to help your sister, given the situation!

Art: (looks at the Skelly blob then up at Alabaster tensely. He then turns back to Hennessy.) It's not something we can do now anyway so....

(Everyone took a look at the stone. Hennessy discovered it was an ancient magic while Art recognized it as tiefling magic. Theodora offered to cut the magic and see what might come of it, but Art was afraid it might hurt Reita. He might be a little over protective.

This is around where we took our rest. As we're rested and trying to figure out our next move, the tiefling woman steps in through the door. She has in her hands the fifteen foot battle axe and is covered in blood. She walks up, demands a beer from Eltbalm, and walks back over to the table where Thia is still passed out. As she takes a sip, she gestures to all of us to gather around.)

Tiefling Woman: Must be pretty confusing for all of you.

Art: That's putting it lightly.

Tiefling Woman: So, let's start with an introduction; I'm Elsie. Elsie Red. I'm the only form of Mrs. Red here that's a tiefling.

Art: ...yeah, why are you a tiefling?

Elsie, shrugging: Don't know. Don't have any memories of anything outside of here. But, hey! I gotta gift for you (looks over at Eltbalm) Hey, you! Go get her. And you better not have touched her!

Eltbalm: Aww, but- (interrupted by the battle axe embedding itself in the wall next to him) coming up!

(Eltbalm disappears for a moment and returns with a bound Mrs. Red. It's our Red; missing tongue and all. He sits her down next to Elsie.)

Hennessy: Elsie, is your story anything like our Red's? It's quite the tragic tale.

Elsie: I don't know. I dont remember. That smiling bastard sent me and all these reds here. It's like we're some kind of experiment or something.

Theodora, nodding: Sounds like Ticket Master, alright. He is quite an asshole.

Hennessy, turning to Red: Do you still have the diary I returned to you?

Red: (nodding in her condescending, mean girl way)

(Art tries to reach into her satchel in order to show Elsie only to get bitten for the trouble.)

Art: Ow, hey! You bitch!

Red: (glaring at him)

(Art gives Elsie a rundown of what they know about Red's backstory. It sums up to Red ending the war and starting her reign of terror after the death of Eltbalm. At that, he points to the scrawny dragonborn at the bar.)

Elsie: Uhhh, no. I remember being married to a tiefling woman. He's not really my type....

Art: Our Eltbalms haven't looked like that. They're more....uh... Koejin, describe Eltbalm.

Koejin: Oh... He's just so hunky and buff. He's covered in shiny white scales. Like, a beautiful man just... (chef's kiss)

Elsie: Yeah, still no.

(We eventually decide that our Red's inability to speak was making this hard. So, we ask Vincent if there's anything he can do.

Turns out, DM rolls high enough to where Vincent pulls out a mechanical tongue.)

Vincent: Now, you gonna go and bite me the moment I go to put this in your mouth?

Red: (nods with a 'Well, duh' look on her face)

Vncent, putting the tongue on the table: Then you can do it yourself.

(Elsie undoes Red's hands and Red immediately dives to put the tongue in her mouth. She doesn't take long to secure it.)

Red, pointing to all of us: Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuuuck you. And a special 'fuck you' to you! (points at Elsie)

Alabaster: Charming.

Red: You took away everything from me and expect me to do anything for you?!

Art: Oh, you mean like what you've been doing to us?

Red: Oh, you fucking little shit. Why the fuck would I care?! You interrupted everything and stopped my ascent to finally killing that smiling asshole you call Ticket Master.

Art: Please, you went toe to toe with him and couldn't take him down.

(We ended up arguing with Red for a while and trying to get her to help us and figure out the parts missing that kept her from doing it. Then...)

Thia: (grabs the empty beer bottle and smashes it against the table. Holds it out to Red) put that to your neck.

Red: (loses control of herself and immediately follows the order) Wha-?

Thia: How do we get out of here?

Red: I- (is comanded to press in deeper. Starts to cry.) I... I don't know. I don't know. I can't remember!

Thia: Then remember.

Red, freezes for a second: I... remember everything...I... (turns to Art) I'm your mother.

Art: I... Wh-wait.... what?

Red: It happened so long ago now. I... Eltbalm and I... were tieflings. We were very much in love. We were happy... Eventually, we were blessed with a beautiful baby. A little girl... but, the land told us, no. Our girl would become a charming handsome boy. Not too long after, we were granted our beautiful, sweet Reita... but... but the war came to our land. They killed Eltbalm, my love. Right in front of me... So I prayed to the land for a way. To stop the war. To protect my children. I was turned into a dragon and given the power to end it all, so I did. And I prayed for a way to bring my husband back. And the land granted me the stones. All parts of Eltbalm.

I didn't know I would be worshipped by our people. I just wanted you to be safe... so, I prayed for a way to the land. And then.... he appeared.

I was so full of rage, but Ticket Master offered me a way. I sold him my soul and I asked that you and your sister were raised by tieflings. To be sure you were kept safe. And he did...

I tried to make it so Reita could be strong like me. Even in my rage and my forgotten memories, I wanted to keep her safe. She was so... helpless. Art, I am so sorry it turned out this way. I lo-

Thia, interrupting the last part: slit your throat.

(Red follows the order and immediately starts bleeding out. Her body collapses on the ground.)

Art: (immediately moves to save her)

Thia: Stop.

Art: (Fails a Con save and is forced to stop)

Theodora: (moves in to heal Red)

Thia: Sit down.

Theodora: (Fails a Con save and follows the order)

Hennessy: Now, wait ju-

Thia: Cover your mouth.

Hennessy: (Fails a Con save and follows the order) Mmmph Rmph!

Koejin: Thia, why're you doing this?

Thia: It's what you guys taught me. you have to kill in order to get to the top. In order to get anyone to listen. To get any type of power.

Koejin:...I thought you just wanted to do drugs and run your bar.

Thia: I did. But then this shit started happening. And you guys started killing generals. And you guided me here. That's when I realized that yes, this is the only way.

Theodora: (trying to do Lay On Hands to Red as Thia's distracted.)

Thia, noticing: Go lay down in that corner, far away from her and don't move.

Theodora:(fails the Con save and does that.)

Art: The leader shouldn't be influenced by their followers.

Thia: I wasn't your leader. Cloak was. And look how much you cared about her death. (glares at Art) not that you're one to talk about not killing. You signed a contract for the God of Death and Deceit.

Art, glaring back: To save my sister.

Thia: still.

Hennessy: (still screaming behind his muffled hands)

Art, casting Sending to get what he was trying to say: Hennessy says "we have been nothing but merciful as instructed." He also said other things, but it got caught off.

Thia: Fine. Remove your hands and speak.

Hennessy: We have been more merciful to everyone of these generals. Green, your own father, was spared and look now! He's one of our strongest allies! Purple returned to their gem under our influence!

Thia: And what about Orange? And Blue? And Yellow?!

Hennessy: Orange was.... an unfortunate circumstance. And Blue gave us no choice. But Yellow; if I recall he willingly died.

Art, tenses: Uhhh, Hennessy...? Yellow was Thia's mother. And she didn't.

Thia, clearly even more angered: I'm starting to think this world needs to be wiped clean so we can begin again.

Art:.... Please don't think that.

(As if hearing her, the roof of the tavern is torn off and there stands Shmoogie. He's staring down at us.)

Shmoogie: Pelor knew you would see the light. (puts his hand down to her) Come now. There's much work to be done.

Thia: (climbs onto the hand)

(Everyone scrambles to look for a way to stop her from leaving with him. In his panic to keep her there, Art uses Black Tentacles to try and pull her out of his hands before she goes out of reach. Thia sees it and tries to order him to stop, but gets smacked in the face by one of them and is now sporting a huge mark near her eye. She disappears through a white portal in the sky with Shmoogie.

But the spell is then released and they can move.)

Art, rushes over to Red, torn in what he's about to do: Okay, I kinda shouldn't care but after all that now I don't want you to die. There's waaaay too many questions to be answered, but you're still an insane bitch. Okay, I'm gonna do this. I'm gonna save the life of my...mother...mortal enemy... fuck.... How the fuck did Alabaster do this? Here we go. (casts spare the dying on Red)

Red: (Alive and no longer bleeding out, but out cold)

Reita: (watching her brother in confusion)

Art, noticing this: Uhhh... hey, uhhh... There's a lot to explain but.... once I understand what's going on, I'll explain it all. Okay?

Reita: (lifts some of her half-eaten rat to her mouth)

Art: (pushes it back down slowly)

(As Art is healing Mrs. Red and talking to Rieta, everyone is discussing the best way to get out of here. Theodora and Koejin have some private talks with the DM and come back, but seem reluctant to do the things they were talking about.)

Theodora, to Elsie: You think you can turn into a dragon and help us out?

Elsie: You're asking this from the only Mrs. Red that can't.

Koejin:... I think I have an idea. (digs through her bag for a gem she had.)

(She summons a carriage labelled Koejin's Brews and it's pulled by a horse with sunglasses.)

Horse: Heeey there, Koejin! Ready to ascend to your position?

Art:... Koejin's a god... I mean, why not? Why the fuck not? (heads to the carriage to immediately drink his face off.)

(We all pile on the carriage to find a fully stocked tavern with plenty of room. Like a bar version of a Tardis. "A Bardis" as Theodora's player starts calling it. And, as we ascend, the bar shakes a little as if experiencing turbulence, but then we end up in a world of light.

It's bright and white. Everything is white. Including the people.

Me: Sooo, Racism?

DM: It's Pelor's realm.

Theodora's Player: So, yeah, racism.)

(As we step off the carriage, we pass by people and see a letter hanging from the gate. On it is written "To Alabaster.")

Alabaster: (takes the letter)

Letter: Alabaster, you used to be so devout and loyal, but seem to have been corrupted by the influences around you. I will cleanse this world of all that is dark. Come see me and will do the same for you. It isn't too late. Not for you and not for your daughter. Come see me, my boy.

Pelor

(Attached to the letter is a picture of Eris, Alabaster's daughter. Pelor is holding her by the head.)

((DM wasn't kidding when he said this would be pretty intense.))

((Koejin's Player: So... I've been hitting on Art's dad...))

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sockablock · 5 years ago

Note

I KNOW MY PROMPT! Per the thing I sent you in DM: Mighty Nein x Vox Machina fighting some eldritch deity tigether that swaps their powers mid-battle with who their players play. Percival de Rolo, the man who would be atheist if the gods were not so clearly real, needs to literally pick a god and /pray/.

it’s wild how long it’s taken me to do this and also you’ll need this post for context (tweaked just slightly by yours truly)

—

Of course, they’d been warned that reality would be thin here.

Essek had told them all, at length, that usage of the beacon would likely thrust them into a world slightly different from theirs, and Allura had repeated, again and again, that nothing about the Chained Oblivion would make sense. It was the manifestation—the primordial source of delusion—and as powerful as any of them were, they would still be at the mercy of its maddening effects.

Which was why, when the battle finally began, when the abyss started seeping into the Prime Material Plane and the first broken chain lashed out of the empty dark, when the threads of probability started curling, swirling, cocooning around them with the one strand where this was possible—

—well, it really shouldn’t have been all that surprising when Keyleth just swung her staff upside Tharizdun’s skull.

What passed for its skull, anyway.

And then Vex’s arrows crackled with necrotic energy and for a second, Percy could’ve sworn she’d spouted wings. Grog lunged forward and a sword was in his hands, icy-blue, mist in the air, and the supposed monk from that other motley crew suddenly thrust out and called lightning from the sky. The hands of their wizard now glowed with the Everlight, and their aasimar fighter, or whatever she was, had suddenly called forth a hail of thorny vines. And as Percy looked down at his own palms, he realized suddenly that his gun felt foreign, and clumsy, and wrong.

His fingers fumbled against the catch and the safety of knowing, the security of understanding, was slipping rapidly, terrifyingly from his mind.

He looked around desperately, then dodged another chain that lashed out towards him, slicing through the night.

Or did he? And did it actually miss, or had it tried to hit the mirage now at his side, a flickering, shifting, image of himself, a perfect copy, one he didn’t know how he made—

A sorcerer, then, he quickly decided. Or, perhaps, some kind of warlo—

This time, the chain didn’t miss, striking directly at his chest. But his arm was up before he could even shout, and strapped to his elbow, clutched in his hand, was a silver shield, shining bright—

A paladin? Oh, gods, not the—the gods.

But he didn’t have a chance to groan any louder, because more of the abyss was pouring through, now. Their allies—the united forces of two continents—were still keeping the demons at bay, but the longer that Tharizdun could exist, the angrier they got, the more distorted their minds, the worse the probability that they’d lose this fight—

The light of the Luxon flickered, and Percy knew he had no time to waste.

He threw himself back into the battle, kicking scorched grass up as he ran. His eyes darted across the other fighters—a goblin, a firbolg, but who had his guns? Who had he switched with, where was his power—

And then, he saw it, in the hands of a blue tiefling. Bad News had somehow found its way into her grasp, and she was crouched behind a boulder, looking confused but understanding, eyes focused and breathing low. Percy desperately had to wrack his mind, and through the confusion and the twisting and the blood, inhaled, focused, remembered—

The….Traveler?

He jerked around another writhing chain, ducked behind a half-fallen tree to ask.

“Is that you?” he hissed, under his breath. “Ah…Traveler? Are you out there? I could—gods, I could use the help!”

Dirt and ash flew past his face. The sharp smell of blood filled the air.

Something warm pressed into his chest.

Frantically, Percy threw the axe aside. His fingers dug below his coat and after a second of desperate rifling, they clutched around something hard and he thrust his hand back into the night—

The symbol of a doorway, reflecting the light of a thousand different realities, all in one.

The image was…oddly familiar.

And then, he heard Vex’ahlia cry out. His head shot above the charred bark and he swiveled around, saw her stumble, saw a sword in her hand that he’d never seen before and saw her teeth grit, saw a chain rise—

He ran forward, cried, “Vex! Watch out!”

A burst of holy light exploded around his wife, enveloping her with a blazing, green glow. He watched, steps faltering, as her wounds began to close, as her posture straightened, her lips grinned, eyes narrowed—

She was back in the fight before Percy could recover. Of course she was, and her next strike was brutal—

He took a deep breath, steadied himself.

“T-Traveler?” he tried. “Was that…you?”

A voice, lilting, and soft and—

“Of course. Can’t have her falling, not now.”

—oddly, oddly familiar.

His eyes went wide. He whirled around.

“Artagan? Is that—is that you?!”

—

Ko-fi in bio✨ | Finished 5k fic prompts right here! 💜 Requests Are CLOSED!

#huehuehuehuehue #critical role #critfic #fic #critrole #cr2 #cr1 #vox machina #the mighty nein #CROSSOVER EDITION #jay writes #fanfic #long post #ficlet #jay fills requests #5k fic request #I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS AHHHHH #volarfinch #text

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huntsman-ash · 4 years ago

Text

RWBY V8E5 LiveThoughts

And now for the last episode before the HUGE break they’re taking. Seriously, February? Damn, whats going on at RT?

It matters not. Lets see what this weeks episode has for us.

And here we see Aminety Colloseum, the place that Atlas SHOULD have weaponized the moment it rolled its way back here. Seriously look at it; floating free away from everything else...you could mount missile launchers and laser batteries and CIWS batteries on it, launch fighters from it, let dropships deploy through its base...a floating aircraft carrier of unprecidented size.

Or maybe turn it into a weapon...use its drive system to focus Dust energy into some kind of gravitational force...thats just me though.

Missed oppertunites...ah well.

You CAN see its been adjusted though, it looks less like the sports arena from its last apperance and more like a floating coms hub, with those dishes on the outside and the huge spire.

Intersetingly if you look in the upper right corner the moon is there but almost completely covered by the storm Salem summoned. Interesting.

Wait why is PEITRO out there? With like...no supports? Seems kinda dangerous to send the weak old dude out there...

...thats a bomb. A Dust bomb in pipe bomb style form but thats very much a bomb. Yes, Penny, danger indeed.

Atmospheric orbit. Ahhh that must be the low-level orbit path that they need to ensure it doesnt loose power. The part where you coast along with almost no drag. Like what the X-15 hit in our world, and punched through at least once.

WAIT WHAT THE HELL IS THAT. Thats some kind of loader mech. THATS A FUCKING UTILITY TITAN. WHEN DID ATLAS GET ONE OF THOSE?!

Also thats a jet engine.

And Maria’s piloting it. To quote Daimon Baird; I know wha thappens when you let an angry chick loose with a power loader.

Multiple bombs...wait. Thats the mine that RWBY fought in with the Aces, the one that almost blew the fuck up. They’re... Oh. I get it now. They’re gonna use the blast to fling Amneity into upper orbit and stabalize it. Clever. Not exactly SAFE, but clever. Just hope the mine doesnt go anywhere important. Those tunnels are going to turn into firestorms.

Cute, she thinks she can stay and help. Trust me, Penny. You’re better off running.

MARIA CASUALLY DOING THE MEXICAN GRANDMOTHER THING WITH HER MECH...THE HIP HAND. MY GOD.

Oh, and his chair has gravity restraints too. They...gonna handle the impact of the launch? I mean thats literally a fuel/air bomb under them. Dust/air...

Well Maria seems alright with it.

OH GOD DAMMIT. Its Cinder isnt it? Fucking bitch...

On the positive side if she DOES hitch a ride then they get a chance to give her the ol’ “Long fall special”. Lets see your maiden powers save you from a fall from near orbit.

Well then, she burned right through the floor. Interesting. Maiden powers or her own, who knows...I do admit seeing her ride the ship in like that is kinda cool.

The eagerness in Cinders remaining eye interest me. Also, even when using maiden powers, her dead eye emits nothing. So that whole parts just gone.

Secondary note, I think they’re standing on the...Shade emblem? Shade is the swords I think. Vale is the axes, Atlas is the staff, Havens the lamp. Doubt it means anything.

Ahhh, okay I was gonna say, that launch was...kinda lackluster. But the blast is being used as a BOOST on top of the four existing external thrusters. Like the yellow emergency turbines on the outside of the Pillar of Autumn in the end cutscene of Halo Reach

Dust explodes in its own individual colors. The blast under them looks like a Pride festival.

Also Penny just going WHAP like that amuses me, whereas Cinder just crouches. Guess she knew what was coming.

I dont see how the blast is helping through...maybe its the pressure wave and we cant see it right.

Now THAT is a command and control table!

Based on the image I can see, the map is showing “Atlas Mantle” in the middle in green, Aminety in red to the north, and the whale as its own red marker just off to the west a bit of Atlas/Mantle. So now we know where everything is stationed.

The scales all kindsa weird tho

Ah THERES the G-force. Emeralds literally stuck to the floor.

And because Cinders an unoriginal bitch, fire swords. Im not impressed ot say the least. On a side note that DOES mean that radiobandit was right about her powers, so theres that. I’d wager this is a combination of her semblance and the maiden abilities.

For those who follow me, Cinder’s blades here are similar in look to what Ash Vulcan can summon, minus the fire. His are more of a cooled obsidian look. They are, however, as sharp as these are, but much less sturdy. Ex; the one that pins itself to the wall by Penny’s head would have shattered on impact, which Ash uses as a secondary ability. Because no one likes a hundred glass shards in their eyes...

OH HELL YES. Maria with the mech. Now, Cinder...TASTE METAL FIST.

RT...I salute you. Angry mother figure piloting a giant robot screaming “get away from her you bitch”. ALMOST had it. Almost.

What smacked into her though. Neo?

Yes, Neo piloting their escape craft. Interseting.

Emerald looks completely useless and confused and Neo is suddenly very much in a realization shes inside a tin can and MARIA IS OPERATING A GIANT TIN CAN OPENER

Emeralds semblance works on Maria. Interseting, so it must bypass eyes. Effect the brain specifically. Note to self for Chrys on that...

WHY did Neo take Ruby’s form when shes fighting Maria? On that Maria seems very happy to brawl on the ground now. Old habits die hard, I guess.

Additional math note; “broadcasting range” is, by this numerical, 543.523 of...whatever Remnant uses as units. On Earth, the edge of outerspace is almost exactly 100 km, or 62 miles, straight up. So going by that measurement... (Doing the math here hang on)...1 km is equal to 5.43 of Remnants distance units. Lets just say 5.5. Assuming Remnants edge is the same (but everything we’ve seen so far hints that it is, or at least very close)

Alternatively, since we heard klicks used in V4, but miles used in After The Fall, we can assume this is one of those, meaning that either broadcast altitude on Remnant is ABSURDLY HIGH, because 500km is literally 5 times the edge of space on earth, and 540 miles is ALMOST 9 TIMES AS HIGH. Either way Im pretty sure this is the first measurement of Remnants units we’ve seen.

Alternatively alternatively, judging by the arrows we see, these might be required velocity to maintain orbit, which MAY make a bit more sense but it doesnt really fit. Low orbital velocity on earth for example is 17,000 KPH. Even with the math above, theres still a TITANIC difference.

And now we see the numvers going down again because CINDER BURNED A HOLE IN THROUGH ONE OF THE STABALIZERS. Bitch.

Again on th e weaponizing the colleseum; look at all this empty space. They didnt even remove it from when it was a consorse for the festival. You could put SO MANY weapon emplacements...the landing pads are still there!

Oh so now Cinders a Dawnblade from RWBY is she.

And exploding arrows too. Alright then, sure, why not.

Not sure what the point of this little bit was, aside from Penny trying to draw Cinder off and Cinder going back because...evil? Bait for Penny? Who knows.

Oh yeah, Marias having a GOOD time. Also, Neos face when she gets kicked in it; “NO, NOT THE SANDEL!”

Also the disrespect from Maria. Yes. Suck it, Neo.

Also theres some timeskippage, as there is NOT a 2 minute gap between when we see the clock the first time and when we see it now. I dont think, anyway. Im sure theres math to be done but it serves the purpose its suppose to, for tension.

Uhhhh...Cinder, please. Your Salem’s most bottom of bitches right now. She favors Hazel and Tyrian over you.

Did Cinder really just try for a does not compute moment. Or is she just out of ideas.

Cinder stealing the maiden powers reminds me of the Grip of the Devourer perk from the Necromatic Grips in Destiny 2. Mainly the green energy flowing. I know thats Pennys aura stuff but it does remind me.

Ahhh they got a plan with Emerald then. Interesting. Also Neo taking advantage of a distraction sounds like her.

And Penny ONESHOTS Neo. Lets be real here, without aura? She’d be LIQUID. Or maybe ash. Not sure how Penny’s funnels (THEYRE STILL FUCKING FUNNELS DAMMIT) works.

Annnnddd you forgot shes a robot and sees aura didn’t you. Again, without aura, she’d be dead. Actually, she might legit be dead considering that scream. That sounds like the noise someone makes as their organs are fried by high intensity radiation. Not too mention the MASSIVE BURN MARK on the back wall there.

Either way; GET FUCKED BITCH.

Very dramatic, Emerald, but really, come on. Penny has lasers. You would get maybe one more shot (from a weapon that has, at best from my viewpoint) a caliber equal to MAYBE a 9mm pistol. That stuff doesnt have the penetration power required.

If Penny wasn’t nice and more interested in saving Peitro...you’d be dead. Ripped asunder and Cinder made even worse.

A pity, really, Penny has a heart. But...hey. Real girl.

I feed upon Emeralds tears though. Mmm. Simpy.

What the HELL is hitting them. Grimm?

Oh boy here we go, more of this. Like...bruh. Just set down for a bit. Always gotta be dramatic dont ya

Aww. Touching. But pointless in the grand scheme of things.

Interesting note but she puts her gloved hand on his cheek, not the one with the glove burned off. For what thats worth again.

Holy shit, that map wasnt lying. That whale’s almost as big as Atlas is from this angle. Mind you, might just be a trick of the location but it would make sense if they were afraid of a Grimm THAT GOD DAMN BIG. I was just seeing it as like, about the size of a normal sperm whale, maybe as big as the Leviathan from the series of the same name, but even that was barely 150 feet long. This things HUGE.

Nope. Pretty sure its about the same size as Atlas is long.

Also the Moon seems smaller from this angle oddly enough.

Wait is she gonna superman this fucking thing?

Okay yes, the numbers were based on distance not velocity, as Penny is pushing the stadium UP, rather than accelerating it in proper stance.

The noises she makes...huh. Glad my sister didnt walk in on those. Sounds...not like someone straining.

Hey look, its clumsy shitface McGee. HES NOT DEAD!

Note about the message; whos the chick with the eye patch next to the faunus in the back left of Ruby.

Im going to assume the first place we see the message played is the Mistral Black Market. Seems fitting for how it is, and the design matches Havens ascetic.

OH MY GOD THE LITTLE EARED FAUNUS GIRL IN THE HOLE. OH NO. SHES TOO CUTE.

Also in that same shot we see the old Karen from two episodes ago, a mouse girl, Fiona’s mole uncle, and someone new I think. Plus the huge eared girls mom who has a fox tail. And also one of the thirsty moms and her kid maybe?

Hey, Sun and Neptune! Out in the middle of nowhere in Vacuo. So this is the first time we’ve seen it in the show.

And Ilia’s still alive too!

Hey and Goodwytch too. No voice, of course...she got fired ages ago.

Also hey, so this is where Ironwoods been. I love how Hare turns it off before Ruby finishes.

I will note that technically Ruby’s not wrong. Ironwood cant be trusted. But then, he couldnt before because (gestures to Atlas’s pathetic, scraggy SOFT “military” instead of THE CHAD FORCES OF...uh...) (Rapid sounds of shuffling papers and files labeled “UNSC” “Coalition of Ordered Governments” “SRPA” “GAR” and “Yukon Confederacy” fly off the table)

Several others. Yes. Lets go with that. (Accidentally bumps paper labeled “Vanguard” off the desk)

Watts is back out I see too.

Wait wait wait. Penny’s blades operate via chips...part of her, sure. So WHY does she need wires on them? AGAIN. WHY ARE THEY WIRE FUNNELS AND NOT SEPERATE ONES.

Interestingly the inside of the one Watts has resembles a Scroll...did Peitro commender that technology?

No focusing system for the laser. No chamber for acceleration or direction. Odd.

Salem looks oddly glad for this. Probably cause she thinks this is going to spread more fear.

And Ruby gets to the heart of the deal. You dont beat something that cant be killed. You capture it. Hurt it. BREAK IT. A sentient being can only take so much punishment before it shatters into madness and controllable fragments. You just. Need. To. Hit. It. HARD. ENOUGH.

Additionally Ruby’s got a point there too. Salem played the shadows until this moment when everything was going her way. So...whats she afraid of.

Annnnddd thats all it takes to hijack Penny? Seriously.

Fuckin god damn useless Atlas bullshit fucking...(LONG SUFFERING SIGH OF A TECH NERD)

Hey theres Taiyang. Where’s Raven?

Wait hold on a second. She catches fire literally two seconds after she falls? You gotta fall a bit more than that for shit to start happening. WHAT THE FUCK IS REMNANTS ATMOSPHERE?! Or is it just dramatic...

Also as a small note the way the coms between her and Peitro cut off like that is accurate to reentry; during the hottest part of a splashdown, a space craft creates such a huge trail of energy behind it, rattling and burning its way down, it creates a blackout with its own passage. So based on the massive Apollo style reentry fire cone shes already putting out shes most likely going to be out of coms until she slows down orrrrrr craters into Remnants surface with the force of a meteor.

And no. I dont think shes dead. The fact that, DESPITE being surrounded by the kind of fireball that worked its way into the fueltank of the space shuttle Discovery and blew it and its crew to bits on reentry, she was still intact...shes probably going to be fine.

Hacked, certainly, but fine. It takes more than that to finish her. Besides now that shes hacked, she has to fight Ruby. We all want that right?

Ahh good to see Winter in full armor now. Or...close to it. Im sure some of its a support rig for her injuries but I like to think this is the start of Atlas’s Specialist Weaponization Program.

Ironwood makes a good call here. Same thought process as mine.

Salutes in this world are the same as ours. Interesting. Must change that for the HKs

Annnndd of course Watts steals the busted Scroll because IRONWOOD IS A FUCKING DUMBASS

...um.

Im...not even going to COMMENT on what the FUCK this thing is that Jaunes detachment found.

Also why is there A TREE in the tundra?

Oh, caustic. Interesting.

Mmmm. (Pause. Fingers to lips)

Thats your plan, Salem? To literally leak liquid Grimm into Mantle.

More silence.

Ladies and gentlemen...Salem is, officially, THE WORST VILLAN. OF ALL TIME.

The level of incompetence and stupidity I have seen here today completely obliterates the LAST person to hold that title, President Snow from the Hunger Games.

The amount of unnececary back door work and seecret plotting here astounds me. Shes doing this because she can, Im SURE of it. Theres no other reason.

Unless...she kows in a straight out fight, she’d have Ironwoods metal arm up to her colon in seconds. Which I wouldnt be surprised about.

Either way uh...thats it. Thats the end of the episode.

Nice fight, at least.

See you all in Febuary!

EDIT: NOT FEBUARY, the break is a few more episodes after this

#spoilers #rwby spoilers #rwby #rwby v8

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its-pronounced-quoassoint · 5 years ago

Text

Power Rangers AU-Chapter 7

Pairings: romantic Logicality, Prinxiety, Demus, Remile

This Chapter Features: Patton centric storyline, YouTuber!Patton, discussions of a fake fanfiction about Reddie

This Chapter Warnings: swearing, falling from a building, fighting, allusions to anxiety, a transphobic comment, fainting/passing out, use of the word slut(1 time), sympathetic Deceit and Remus

Credit for this AU goes to @when-day-met-the-knight (specifically this post)

If you would like to be added to the taglist for this fic please let me know in reply!

This chapter is long, I didn’t expect it to be so long and to take so long, but this quarentine is not going so good for me. I’m gonna try and get another chapter out soon, but we’ll see. Sorry it’s so long, but I don’t want to split it in half. Anyway, please all of you stay safe and virus free!

First Previous Next

Chapter 7-Blank

"Okay, this is our last shot to figure something out about Virgilius before we can't predict when he's gonna show up again!" Thomas yelled.

"Correct. We have to make this count!" Logan agreed.

Patton and the others nodded and continued running to the sight of the breach. It was a nice Wednesday afternoon and Virgilius had apparently decided to let them finish the school day before attacking. As October drawled on the nights became just a little chillier with the ocean breeze swirling through town. Patton was naturally a faster runner than the others so Logan had assigned him to racing ahead, getting to a high vantage point, and helping him assess the situation.

Patton rounded a street corner and arrived at the little crossroads in the city where many restaurants had outdoor seating and a lot of public activity. Now, the usually quiant area, had a giant rip in space and time the was pouring out monsters like an open wound. Patton summoned his bow, spotted a perfect building roof just next to him, and shot and arrow. As the arrow flew to the roof, a pink lasso type of string extended from it, and once the arrow landed, Patton was pulled into the air.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, when the heck did you get grappling hook arrows?!" Remus shouted.

"Training on Sunday. I found out I could summon them!" Patton replied.

"If you had been there you would have seen it." Roman remarked.

Patton reached the roof and climbed over the ledge, running across so he faced the square. Monsters were piling out of the breach and pedestrians were all around, cowering and screaming. Patton knocked an arrow back and began firing at the breach.

"Yeah well," Remus paused. "I was busy."

"What could you have possibly been doing?!" Logan asked.

"More like who could you have been doing." Roman mumbled.

"Heard that." Patton chastized.

"Are you slut shaming me right now?" Remus asked incredulously.

"I dunno are you being a s-"

"Shut it you two!" Dee barked.

"What do you see?" Logan asked.

"Pedestrians are everywhere, it doesn't seem like the minions are engaging with them, but if we don't hurry I think they might." Patton explained, firing another arrow.

"What's the call?" Roman asked.

The rest of the Rangers entered the square and looked to Logan expectantly.

"Are they looking to leave the square or are they staying here?" Logan asked.

"Staying here."

"Alright. Here's the plan. Green and Yellow, you two handle the minions around the outside, any of the ones that look like they're ready to attack civilians or ones that might leave the square. Black and Red, you two cover the breach. I'm going to try and direct civilians out of the square and behind the Twisters. Pink, I want you to cover my flank so the others don't have to worry." Logan explained. "Got it?"

Everyone gave an affirmative response.

"Okay." Logan nodded back.

The Rangers broke off. Remus and Dee ran in opposite directions, handling any straggling monsters that strayed from the rest. Roman and Thomas ran forward, slashing through the monsters that hoarded around the breach. Logan raced to the restaurant side of the sqaure, and began helping pedestrians up and getting them running to the alley that let out behind Twisters.

Megan's working today. Patton remembered, his stomach dropping a little. She's in that Twisters. Patton didn't want to think about her possibly getting hurt and continued to try and focus on helping Logan safely transport the pedestrians, but he found it more difficult than usual.

"Hey, so, did you ever come up with a new name for these things?" Remus asked.

"What?" Logan scoffed.

"I hate the word minions, you know that. Those yellow demons plague my nightmares. So, can we please think of something else!" He whined.

"I think just referring to them as monsters is fine." Logan replied.

"That's because you have no imagniation!" Roman, ever the one for dramatics, accompanied him saying this with a slash of his sword and triumphant stance.

"I have-" Logan stooped down to help a small child and their mother out of their hiding place and directed them to the twisters. "an adequate amount of imagination."

"Thinkin' about Patton without a shirt on, is not imagination." Remus sighed.

"Green!!" Thomas, Roman, and Dee scolded.

Patton tried his best to stay focused on helping protect the pedestrians, but he found it more and more difficult, however he didn't think the others' conversation had to do with it.

"Anyway, back to what I was saying earlier, I hate the word minion I say we call them something like, Witchlings!"

"Witchlings?" Thomas asked. "Explain."

"Well ya know, Dragon Witch, Witchlings. It sorta works." Remus shrugged.

"Can't we just stick with monsters?" Logan sighed.

"No!" Remus practically howled.

"Patton how does the breach look now?" Roman asked.

"Um," Patton turned. "Monsters are coming out much slower, and you've lessened the amount quite a bit, but I wouldn't take any chances."

"That was the last of the pedestrians." Logan informed. "Green and Yellow, join me and close in around the breach. Pink, I want you to take over for those two."

"On it!" Patton replied, lowering his bow and searching the sqaure.

He assumed the others were following Logan's orders and tried not to worry. Patton found a monster and pulled an arrow back, firing directly between its shoulder blades. The monster turned to ash. Patton looked around again and found another straggler heading for one of the restaurants.

"This looks like the last of them!" Thomas called.

"Okay, stay on your guard everyone, we all know what happens next." Roman said.

"Do your best to recall anything that happens, all of this interaction could be important." Logan reminded.

Patton affirmed the directions and turned his attention back to lookng for any monsters that left the pack. Then a chill went down his spine. Patton stiffined, the hair on his neck stood up and a bad feeling washed over him. Something is wrong.

"Heya Pink. We don't really get to talk much do we?" A dark voice said behind him.

Patton whipped his body around and came face-to-face with Virgilius. His crown even more daunting up close. The bad feeling only got worse. It was unnatural. Wrong. Patton wanted to get away as fast as he could. To his legs that apparently meant stepping back far too much, tripping on the side of the building, and falling.

He screamed. The wind rushed by him and he felt weightless as he fell. He wasn't thinking. All that ran through his mind was that feeling of uneasy wrong that hit him in the chest. It spread and overwhelmed his senses. His unfocused manner and inability to grasp the situation only made him more worried.

Then the wind stopped. He was in someone's arms so quickly he felt whiplash in his neck. His eyes were still unfocused but he could see and register Remus's green armor. Patton pulled in closer to Remus and grasped what he could.

"Pat are you okay?" Remus asked.

"I-" Patton paused. "yeah, I-I think I am."

Patton released Remus from his hug and allowed him to set him down. The feeling was lessened, but not completely gone. It was almost like phantom pains, not his feelings, but the affect someone else's feelings had on him.

"Aww Pink, why'd ya leave so soon. I was just getting started." Virgilius practically cackled from the roof.

Patton turned back up to him. His eyes caught the gaze of the six purple ones and he tried to read any emotion behind them. Nothing. Unable to see any of Virgilius's other features, Patton tried to focus on his posture. Relaxed, almost lazy.

Patton's attention was torn away. He felt a content and calming feeling push into him. It was frantic though, as if someone was trying desperately to make him feel good again. To take away the fear that Patton worried could consume him. When he registered the arms wrapped around him Patton turned to face Logan who was holding him tightly. Logan buried his head into Patton's shoulder. He wasn't used to Logan hugging him. Typically in times of distress one of the two would place a comforting hand on the other's forearm. This hug though, it was new and certainly welcomed. Patton realized he should proabably hug back, and did so with great enthusiasm. However, almost right away Logan let go.

"I'm sorry." He said, his voice level, but on edge. "I-I suppose I was scared. I'm not entirely sure why though, even if Remus didn't catch you, with your armor being so protective you would have suffered a broken bone or two at the very worst. It's illogical for me to feel so worrisome over such a fall."

"Aww." Patton reached out to hold Logan's forearm like he had done so many times before. "Guess I'm just turning you into a big ol' hugger huh?"

"I wouldn't have phrased it like that, but I guess more physical affection is something I have been growing more accomadated to. Especially with you." Logan's voice had grown more shaky as he said this, but it only made Patton's heart melt.

"That's friendship my dear Blue." Patton chuckled.

It was quiet for a little bit too long.

"I'm sorry am I too far away, or did Kirby here just friendzone this poor guy?" Virgilius yelled from his vantage point.

"What?" Patton squeaked a little more than he would have preffered. He looked over to see the other Rangers in various states of frustration.

"We don't have time for this." Logan scowled. "Red!"

"Right!" Roman let his hand fall from where he had it on his forehead. He looked up to Virglius. "Prince Virgilius! Your reign of terror ends here! You've done nothing but wreak havok. The terrorizing of these people stops today!"

"Uh-huh, okay, and what makes you think that? Hm? You haven't stopped me in the past, and nothing about today makes your odds any better. What could possibly make you think today is the day?" Virgilus yelled back.

"Well-"

"What did you think about Richie and Eddie leaving?!?" Remus called up to him.

"What are you doing?" Roman turned on his brother.

"Trust me." Remus said.

"What?! No, why would I trust-"

"Roman, trust him." Dee cut in. "We talked about this we know what we're doing."

"I'm sorry what?" Virgilius asked.

"The last chapter was posted yesterday. I'm sure you read it." Dee stated, Patton didn't like how calm he was.

"Richie and Eddie left Derry, together. With the others." Remus began explaining. "It came out of nowhere. What did you think of it though? Be real."

"I-I-" Virgilius pulled his hands to his chest and stepped back. "I don't know what you're-"

"Yes you do." Dee stopped his rebuttal. "Downright ended and we know you read it. Just tell us what you thought."

It was quiet.

"Guys, this isn't-" Roman started.

"I liked it." Virgilius said, albiet hesitantly. "I know a lot of people in the comments weren't too pleased because it seemed like leaving Derry diminished the whole point of their recovery together. If they were just going to leave anyway, why spend so long trying to regain the love for the things that they had before."

It was silent again.

"But I thought it made sense." Virgilius continued. "Richie and Eddie spent a lot of time trying to reconnect with their town, but it only really made them want to go back to the past. When things were easier. Not go forward with the new lives they wanted to start together. Being together made it different. It made them realize how moving on and away from Derry wasn't running from their past, they had already accepted the past for what it was. Instead, leaving Derry together was a way of starting a new. Not burying the past, but no longer letting it affect them."

The air was still. Patton had no idea what to do other than think, I need to read this fanfiction apparently.

"So you figured me out!" Virgilius stirred them from their dazes. "What was the point of that? You got me, good for you, what are you doing just rubbing it in?!"

"No!" Dee stopped him. "I swear we're not. We-uh-we were curious. I mean, I never read fanfiction, but the ending to that one stuck with me and I've been trying to figure out why. It just seemed like a pointless build up to some kind of half-assed epiphany. Like the writer had tossed the last six chapters out the window. I was so confused about why she went that way."

"And I thought about the same thing as you!" Remus cut in. "It made sense to me when they left, it just felt more like they were leaving becuase they didn't know how to be together in a town where they didn't feel loved. Derry didn't love them and they loved each other too much to let the town get in the way. Leaving was their best chance at being with each other, being where they wanted to be."

"They just wanted to be happy together." Virgilius seemed to agree. "It didn't make sense to stay somewhere that was training them to stay apart. Being together was what made them happy. All they really wanted was each other and the rest of the Losers' Club."

Another beat of silence.

"Virgilius!" Dee got his attention. "I know we're supposed to be fighting, but I don't want to. Whatever you've been told about us, about how we're liars and cheats, it isn't true. Uh. . . to an extent. We're not perfect, but I'm sure whatever is going on up there, we can help you with."

"He's right!" Patton decided to step in. "We aren't always the best, but we try to be. I don't know what's going on with you, but I can tell that something isn't right. He means it when he says we can help. We help each other, and we help ourselves. We'll be here to help you too."

It was still again. Patton thought he could feel the exhaustion coming off of Virgilius. The weariness grew as they talked to him. It was ridiculous though to think that, how could he sense the prince's emotions from that far away. Patton couldn't see his face, so why did he feel so tired of the fighting. It wasn't his tire though, it wasn't like Logan's exhaustion, or Roman's, or any of the other Rangers'. It was foreign, and strong.

Virgilius screamed.

It was close to hellish. All of the Rangers went to cover their ears and block it out. Patton kept his eyes trained on the prince. He tried desperately to see what was happening, only to find a thick, black, inky aura beginning to surround him. It pulsed and expanded, circling Virgilius's body. Virgilius began to rise into the air, his arms and legs limp, his face still shrouded in the shadows of his crown. His eyes were no longer a glowing purple. Virgilius's body began floating to the ground, slowly and steadily, moving with the aura.

His feet his the ground and the aura exploded. It covered the entire square, encompassing everything in a shroud of blackness. Patton could still see, but it strained his eyes as he tried to find Logan's arm to hold. The screaming stopped suddenly.

"You insufferable brats!!!"

Patton looked to the source of the voice and realized he was no longer standing. None of the Rangers were. The only one standing now was Virgilius.

"Do you know how long it has taken to perfect this thing?!! Perfect my army?!!" It was a woman's voice Patton realized. The voice was domineering and overbearing with a lower undertone that followed, like it was being echoed by a demon.

Finally Patton got the strength to look up at Virgilius. He sucked in a breath of shock as he saw the hood had falled, the crown now being the only thing on his head. He could see Virgilius's face! Patton began attempting to burn it into his memory. His jaw was round, not very defined, his cheeks were a little puffy, but not as much as his own. His cheekbones were very defined however, almost unnaturally so. The first pair of eyes were small, they sat about eye brow level, then the main set of larger eyes, and finally the smallest set right below the middle ones. The outline of his eyes was like his cheekbones, unnaturally sharp. His hair fell to the left of his crown, down to the center of his middle set of eyes.

Virgilius's eyes aren't glowing purple, Patton remembered. He stared up into Virgilius's eyes. His irises were a bright angellic white and his pupils a darker than night black. It was just as unnerving as before.

"Oh I thought I had seen the last of you but you're just so persistant aren't you! It's stupidity is what it is!! It's not human nature, it's not being good people, it's not trying to help those who can't help themselves!! It's stupidity!!!" The voice screamed. "You're all so stubborn and stupid!!!"

"Ngh-" Patton heard Thomas from just a few feet away. he was shuffling around, likely trying to get to his knees. "You're going to lose! And this boy that you're using as a little pawn isn't going to be yours much longer. He's not weak and you're not in control."

"Oh . . . you're not new." The voice replied, almost bored. "How dissappointing. You won't last very long you know. And these kids you've got as the new Rangers, they aren't going to last either. You may be stubborn enough to stay alive, but you're stupid enough to keep fighting."

"And you're weak." Dee said with a strength Patton wished he could muster for himself. He begged and pleaded for his body to do more than look on.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me you sick bitch!" He yelled. "You're using him! Forcing him to fight us because you can't do it on your own. He's going to leave the twisted hold you have on him one of these days and there's nothing you can do about it. You won't even get down here yourself to fight us!!!"

"Dee-" Patton heard Remus struggle to speak.

"Boy, do you know how many worlds I've conquered? How many civilizations I've made my own?! Believe it or not, I don't care all too much about handling this planet on my own. There are other, more important places for me to be." The voice cackled, it sounded so much like Virgilius, Patton wanted to shrink away. "I don't care about Earth enough to fight for it in person. I can leave that to my little Works-In-Progress. Like this one. This place is perfect training for things like him."

"You can't keep doing this very long." Roman grunted. "We will stop you!"

"Oh please kid. I've fought much worse than you. You're nothing! At least the last Red Ranger was something worth fighting. She was certainly an opponent for my experiments. You though, you don't even come close." She snarled in return.

"Then why are we still alive?! Why are we still here, fighting you!" Logan huffed, clearly straining.

"Now Blue, your Ranger has always been something. Never the same really. I have to say, having a level headed one is a change of pace, but being the smartest in a room means nothing if you can't command respect! You hold yourself like even you can't stand the way you are. You act like you're on a higher level of thinking than others, but really you're just as much of an indiscisive mess as everyone else on this pathetic planet! You don't understand your feelings, you pretend you care only to know deep down you would do anything to be known as the smartest in the room, and to top it all off you're not even a real boy!!"

"Shut up!!!" Patton let out the words, not even realizing they were his own, but it was how he felt.

"Now here's our fighter. Pink. Unexpected sure, but then again, the hell you put yourself through in our own mind is much worse than I could ever really do. I'll give you props for that." Her voice was drowning Patton's ears. He was so angry, he just wanted her to shut up. "In fact, I'll give all of you a little credit. I've certainly thought about going the tear-them-apart-from-the-inside route, but you all are so self-destructive, you do it on your own!"

She was going on, but her words were muddled in Patton's head. He didn't know what she was saying and didn't want to. Then an idea came to mind. Patton tried his hardest, pulling all of his strength and will, he just needed to shut her up. He needed to do something other than sit there. He felt the determination bubbling inside of him, he felt the fear but he channeled, tried to force that fear to make him fight, not run. Patton summoned his bow. It felt so heavy in his hand. Everything was heavy, pulling him down, prying to keep him down. He lifted his torso, fighting the aching it gave him. Patton pulled his arms up, summoning an arrow, and knocking it back.

"Sorry Virgilius, but you gotta go for now." He said, it felt like he was yelling but only a whisper came out.

Then he fired, straight for the crown. In the blink of Patton's eyes the crown had been knocked to the ground. The black aura was gone, Virgilius collapsed to the cement, his eyes purple once again. Patton watched as the world tilted to the side, dimming. His head hit something hard, but he barely registered it.

It was black.

Virgilius scrambling, grabbing for the crown.

Black.

Virgilius again, until the boy disappeared.

Then fuzzy black again. Not like the ink. This blackness was welcoming, not overwhelming.

Patton felt a hand on his arm. He opened his eyes again and saw Logan, his mouth was moving but there was no sound other than the ringing. When did the ringing start? Patton asked himself. Logan looked so terrified. Patton didn't like that expression. Suddenly Thomas came into view, he was also speaking, but it was nothing Patton could hear.

Then finally, the fuzzy black. Patton realized he didn't like calling it black. His world wasn't black. That black, inky terror wasn't in his vision. It was more blank. That's the word, blank. Blankness. A blank world.

Patton let a smile fall on his face. He was okay with everything being blank. Just for a bit.

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#patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #deceit sanders #logicality #thomas sanders #power rangers au #virgil sanders #prinxiety #sympathetic dark sides

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