#been a woman and my whole argument hinged on how i thought he looked like young mia. but i dont think i actually ever showed evidence for it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

By the king’s hand 🐍 XVI

Warnings: noncon/rape, violence/death, trauma, allusions to torture.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The king proves himself and the reader must accept her fate.

Note: Welcome back, King Loki. Y’all better be ready because our little mouse will never stop suffering.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You felt like you were suffocating, slowly under a heap of rocks. Your return to the palace was a blur. You barely recalled the ride in the carriage or the flights of stairs between you and the chambers.

You were entirely consumed by your memories and their voices; Magnus, broken before the court, confessing his crimes. Thor, angry and brutal as ever, shouting back at the people as they cried out at their traitorous prince. Neither gave you peace; they were only trapped animals waiting to break free and lash out again.

Hal was a spot in your vision. His voice tickled your ears but you couldn’t answer him as you laid across the bed, clutching a pillow as you rocked frantically. As you calmed, spent from your fit, you rested on your side and quivered every now and then. The sobs would not come, only rattling breaths that seized your whole body.

Time slaked away like layers of ice melting into a puddle. The curtains were drawn back and revealed the shift of sunlight. A pale grey darkened to a dull slate and cast shadows around you, looming over you like the monsters in your mind.

You flinched as you heard the door, the hinges creaked and your fingers sank deep into the feather pillow. Hal greeted the king and firm footsteps marched across the floorboards. Loki’s figure appeared at the edge of your sight as you laid with your back to the hearth. He sighed as he came up behind you and sat on the edge of the mattress.

“You left rather suddenly,” he said as his hand settled on your side. You winced and hugged the pillow tighter. You hid your face against it, the feathers poking through and causing your cheeks to itch. “Mouse…”

You whimpered and curled your legs up. What had this man done to you that was any different than those two savages? You still bore the scars of his switch across your back and your only shield was the life growing in your stomach. It was him who had brought you to this; who had sentenced you to live as a piece of a flesh; who had exposed you to the barbarity of his kin and kith.

“Why?” You asked softly as you turned your head against the pillow.

“I thought… I thought you would want to see vengeance done.” He said sternly. “To see that I’ve brought those beasts to justice.”

You sniffed and shook your head. “I never wanted to see them again… I…” You shrugged and exhaled weakly.

“I did it for you, Mouse. I dragged that animal, Magnus, down to my dungeons and cut his flesh until he did confess. I watched his blood weep from his flesh and reminded him of what he'd done to you. I made him tremble at my hands. For you.” He sneered. “I’d do it again.”

“You did it for you. For your pride.” You uttered. “You’ve never done anything for me or any other. It is all for you. They humiliated you, took your plaything, kept from you your pleasures. It isn’t about me, it is about what I can do for you.” You wiggled away from his touch, “Do not lie to me, it not only makes me a fool, but you as well.”

“Do not presume to know my will,” he snarled, “Do not talk to me as if I am your subject and not the other way around. And look at me--” He grabbed your chin and forced you onto your back, “When you speak to me, mouse.”

You blinked as a lump lodged in your throat and let the pillow fall away from you. You braced yourself for what he would do next. You remembered the noise of the hinges, the heavy footsteps, the metal against your wrists, the stony touch of loveless beings, the violent claims to your body.

You grabbed the king’s arm and began to flail. “No, no, no,” You exclaimed, “Please--”

“Gods,” Loki said in exasperation, “Hal! Hal!” You heard softer soles on the boards, “Fetch Birger. Now.”

Loki wriggled his arm from your grasp and grabbed your shoulders. He pinned you down as you kicked out and clawed at the air. “Mouse, shhhh. Mouse!”

“No! No! No!” Your hand flew up and struck Loki’s jaw. He grunted and shook away the jolt.

He struggled with you until the door sounded again and there was a clatter of footsteps across the front chamber. Loki climbed over you as the physician appeared and touched your forehead.

“I don’t know what has come over her.” Loki said, “She has these… episodes.”

“Ah, well she is with child and only just returned from an immense situation. Her nerves are split.” Birgir rubbed your cheek calmingly, “Dear, tell me five things you can see.”

“No, no, no,” you chanted.

“Five things, dear. Five things you can see.” He urged.

“The-- The bedpost…” You wisped, “Y-Your cap… Hal… The ceiling… A chair…”

“Very well, dear, and five thing, “Three things you can feel.”

“Y-Y-Your hand,” you touched the back of his hand, “The bed…” Your eyes flicked back and forth, “The fire.”

“Great, great,” he took your hand gently, “One thing you can smell.”

“The wood. Burning wood.” You gulped.

Birger nodded and smiled at you gently. “Hal, my boy, bring my chest.”

“What is wrong with her?” The king knelt on the mattress beside you.

“I told you. It is stress.” Birger said staunchly and squinted at the king, “Have you…”

“Not in the last days.” Loki admitted.

“But since her return?” The physician prodded. The king rolled his eyes and glanced away tellingly. “And you expect you to be as she was after all that? Do you even know all that happened to her?”

“She does not speak of it.” The king huffed.

“And why should she? To you?”

“You tread a dangerous path, Birger,” Loki warned.

Birger tutted and caressed the back of your hand. “Alright, I’ll do what I can.”

“You have something which can restrain her,” Loki said, “That can calm her.”

“As her condition stands, not much.” Birger stood as Hal approached with his chest, “It is better if she is kept calm. You can burn lavender--”

“No, you will sedate her so she will sleep,” Loki ordered, “I’ve pressing matters and little energy or time for this nonsense.”

“With respect, your majesty, this nonsense is as much to do with you as it is your brother or his accomplice,” Birger insisted, “It will persist.”

“So be it,” Loki pushed himself off the bed, “Find one of your vials and do your duty. She needs sleep, not quackery.” Birger let out a long breath and tapped his fingers on the lip of the chest. “Well, you’ve something else to say?” The king challenged.

“No, your majesty,” Birger looked into his chest and stirred through the contents, “Boy, bring some milk for the woman.”

Your body was limp across the bed, suddenly without strength as you listened to the argument. It was your fault. All of it. If you could just control yourself. If you weren’t so weak and stupid.

“When you finish, you will go.” Loki neared the door. “And do not bother me on your exit.”

The king disappeared through the doorway and you looked up at Birger as he pulled out a glass vial. You saw the irritation on his face.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly.

“Why?” He asked bluntly, “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

You clamped your lips shut and stared at the top of the bedpost. Hal returned and handed a cup of milk to Birger. The physician mixed in drops of the tincture and sat to hand it to you. You pushed yourself up and took it from him.

“Perhaps it is better you sleep for a time,” Birger said. “Are you eating well?”

“Yes, a lot,” you assured him and sipped the thick milk.

“Well, you make sure you keep on. Rest as much as you can.” He looked to Hal, “See if the boy is permitted to take you on walks. You must keep active as you can.”

You nodded and swallowed the milk tainted with the odd flavour of the medicine.

“Is the king rough with you? As he was before?”

You shook your head as you offered the empty cup. “Not since…” You nodded to your stomach.

“Good, good,” Birger set the cup aside and packed up his chest. “Take care, dear. I will be look in as I can.” He hauled his chest up and clapped Hal’s shoulder, “And boy, you will keep her well in my absence.”

“On my honour,” Hal promised and followed the physician to the door.

You felt heavy as you laid back and listened to Birger’s departure. The king was just in the next chamber and you heard the flutter of pages. Hal’s figure lingered as your eyelids shut and you sank down into the abyss. You were smothered by a sleep deeper than any you’d known in months.

🐍

You weren’t certain how long you slept. You woke in a fog. It was dark but for the glow of the fire and the shapes around you, the furniture shroud in grey, seemed distant and yet close. You felt light and airy and your body felt detached from your thoughts.

You lifted your head and peered around, trying to focus on the chair before the hearth. A wraith sat in it and as you sat up, you realised it was the king. You giggled and let the blankets fall away from your shoulders. He glanced over at you and tilted his head as the firelight limned his features.

“Mouse?” He said quizzically.

“Looookiiiii,” you sang as you turned your legs over the edge. He was visibly aghast at your use of his name. You only laughed again as you stood and wobbled. “Such an odd name.”

“Is it?” He lowered his brows and carefully stood to face you, “You should stay, mouse.”

“No, I’m not tired,” you argued and gave a long yawn. “I feel alive!”

“You can barely stay on your feet,” he rushed forward as you stumbled and caught you. “Come on, to bed with you.”

“Wouldn’t you like that!” You snapped and wriggled in his grasp. “But I’m hungry.”

“You’re deluded,” he rebuked.

You laughed and continued to struggle with him. “I’m perfectly well,” you slapped his chest, “I’m just…” You looked down as your stomach brushed against him and your mouth fell open. “Oh, gods…” You rubbed your middle, “I’ve already eaten too much!”

“No, mouse,” you heard a sliver of amusement in his tone, “You… you are just fine.”

“I’m fat!” You pouted and glared up at him. “Why am I so fat?”

He barely withheld a snicker and took your hand daintily. “I have some biscuits. Would you like one?”

“I couldn’t…” You shook your head as you felt your stomach. “I’m already-- but I am hungry. Just one, just one.”

“Well, you must sit if you want one,” he chided. “Understood, mouse?”

“Mouse! Mouse!” You mocked. “I hate that name. I am not a mouse.”

“Alright,” he nudged you back to the bed and you sat heavily, “Then what are you?”

“Hungry. I told you.” You crossed your arms. “Who are you?”

He grinned and looked around as if confused. “It is me, Loki.”

“Your nose is big,” you said sharply.

“Thank you,” he said rigidly. “Just wait here.”

He left you and returned with a small box. He took out a biscuit with currants baked into it and held it out. He set the box aside and sat beside you as you eyed the treat.

“What is it?”

“It’s a biscuit,” he said curtly. “Like I said.”

“Sure, sure,” you smelled it and cautiously took a bite, “Suppose it tastes like a biscuit.”

He was quiet. You flinched as you felt his hand on your back suddenly. He rubbed a circle there as you chewed and you clapped the crumbs from your hands as you finished.

“Good?” He asked.

“I told you,” you grabbed his arm and shoved it away. “No.”

He dropped his arm and nodded. He watched you as you balled your hands in fists. You stood and stomped like a child around the room.

“As good as it feels, no, no, no!” You swept your finger through the air. “But perhaps…” You stopped and thought for a moment, “No! No!” You sneered at him. “I don’t want your royal cock tonight, sir!”

At last he chuckled and you were startled by the noise. His features contorted in his mirth and you watched him with wide eyes. He stood and neared you slowly. He reached out tentatively and touched your arms.

“Fine. Not tonight.” He assured you. “But you must lay back down.”

“Why?” You quivered and looked at your body again, “Are my legs broken?”

He smirked and shook his head. “No, because it is the middle of the night.”

You frowned. “Oh.”

“So, bed?” He asked.

“Wait!” You stopped him.

“What is it now?” He sniffed.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged.

“Right,” he said and calmly led you back to the bed. “Time to sleep, mouse.”

“Hmmpf,” you grumbled at the pet name and let him lay you across the bed. “I’m not tired.”

“Oh, you’re not?” He taunted as you yawned again into your hand.

“No,” you argued and your eyes closed. “Not at all.”

“Not at all,” he echoed as he pulled the blankets over you.

He sat with you until you drifted off again though you were barely aware of him. You fell back into the warmth of the bed and the haze of your mind. The peculiar scene blending in with your senseless dreams.

🐍

You awoke facing the king. He slumbered beside you, his pale features unmarred by his waking thoughts. Your head was fuzzy and your limbs heavy. You sat up slowly and wiped the sleep from your eyes. The events of the days before slowly came back to you but did not hit you with the same force. You were anxious to think of Thor and Magnus but not terrified.

Loki groaned and reached out to touch your leg, as if assuring himself of your presence, as he stirred. You watched his long fingers as he squeezed you through the blankets and opened his eyes.

“Mouse,” he voice was hoarse as he retracted his hand and swept his dark hair back. “Is there something the matter?”

You shook your head and looked around. You didn’t like how comfortable you felt. You recalled his callous words the day before during your panic and all those times before he had been unkind. How could he sleep beside you as he would a wife? A wife…

You turned your back to him and evaded his reach again as you stood. You hugged yourself as you neared the dwindling fire and shivered. You heard the mattress move beneath him but he did not rise. You looked to the ceiling as you tried to clear your thoughts.

“Why won’t you give me an answer?” You asked.

“Excuse me?”

“What is to become of me when your wife is here?” You spun back to face him. He sprawled across the mattress as his shoulders and chest were bare above them. “I know this… will change. And I know once this babe is born, you will be done with me or cruel as you were before.”

His face darkened but he made no move to rise. He exhaled, a low growl, and rubbed his forehead.

“I needn’t tell you anything more than you need to know.” He sneered. “I will do whatever is best at the time.”

You gritted your teeth in frustration. You hated his riddles. You weren’t going to get an answer.

“My wife will do whatever I wish of her. And when I have a child on her, then you and the bastard will be of little bother.” He uttered. “And when you are ready, you will return to your original duty.”

Your chest knotted and your stomach grumbled painfully. Your anxiety mixed with your hunger and made your core a pit.

“And the child? I am to carry it to some unknown fate?”

“My child. I shall keep it safe.”

“And me?”

“You are its mother. But you are mine, first and foremost.” He bent his arms behind his head. “You will serve me before the child.”

You scowled in disgust but said nothing. He watched you and slipped his hand beneath the blankets.

“I will have a nursemaid for you. You needn’t worry for the child’s health.” He cooed.

“And my own? Do you care?”

He scoffed. “I’ve provided you with shelter, with sustenance, with a physician for your ailments. I’ve seen you well and I ask little in return.” He declared. “Remind yourself again that you are not my wife.”

“Yes, I am your whore. I am aware.” You hissed. “But you do seem to forget yourself.”

“I forget myself?” He sat up. “Oh, let us put things straight.”

You staggered backwards as he was off the bed in an instant. He seized your arm and you struggled with him as he tried to drag you back with him.

“The child!” You cried.

“Will be well,” he snarled as he grabbed a hank of your hair and twisted your neck painfully. “Come on, mouse, you want things to be as they were.”

“Stop! I only--”

He sat and you lurched against him. He pushed you back and forced you down to your knees and drew you between his own. His cock twitched and hardened slowly as he clung to you. You pushed on his thighs and wrestled with him as he gripped your jaw.

“My patience for you is spent,” he spat as he shoved your head into his lap. “Open up, whore.”

“Please--”

“Let me give you your answer.” He bit out. “When you have born my bastard, I will use those parts of you unruined by its passage.” He squeezed until you gasped and forced his tip into your mouth. “I shall have my wife’s cunt and your mouth.”

You gurgled as he pushed against the back of your throat and slid down it. You gagged and he pulled you back.

“Breathe,” he warned, “You don’t want to hurt the child.”

He forced you back down and you clawed at his sides. He moved your head steadily, up and down his length until he was entirely hard. You were dizzy and helpless against him. His groans and grunts added to the noise of you in his mouth and he clutched your head tighter.

He fucked your mouth until you were gasping and gulping around him. He wrenched you off of him suddenly and stroked himself to his climax, his seed stringing across your face. He released you and you fell back in a heap. He stood and stepped around you without concern.

“That is what you will be. Always.” He barked as he crossed the room. “Mine. To do with as I please.”

🐍

The days that followed were frigid and fraught. You could not forget that morning as the king’s former disposition returned fully. He left you in the morning without disturbance and you bided the hours silently, barely aware of Hal as he tried to cheer you. When Loki returned, the boy was sent away. He didn’t speak, only sat and stewed in whatever blight had angered him that day.

And when he wanted you, he had you. Hand, mouth, or cunt. You bore it and hid yourself under the covers when it was done.

Another week gone and Hal announced that the verdict had been dealt. Loki hadn’t said and you hadn’t dared to ask. You listened as the boy explained how the jury and judges had found Thor guilty and condemned him to death by the sword. Magnus, however, was to be hung like a common criminal.

But that did not mean you would be without a villain. Loki’s moods assured you that nothing had changed at all. It assured you that your life would be as it ever was. That the fate he’d promised you down in that dungeon would come to pass. You would never escape him and perhaps, though you’d not realised it, your time with Thor and Magnus could have been your only hope at an eventual end to the agony.

You sat in limbo. You could hardly believe that they would die and yet, you feared the future beyond. For all the certainty of their sentences, yours was still frightfully abstract. You could not decide if you were appeased by their demise or envious of it.

Your inner strife was interrupted as Hal stood suddenly and you turned to watch the door open. The boy bowed to the king as he entered, clothed in fur and his horned crown. You stood and the king looked between the two of you. He raised his chin and looked down his nose.

“Get her a cloak and boots,” he demanded, “You will accompany us to the green.”

“The green? Why--”

“Gird your tongue, woman,” Loki demanded. “Haven’t you asked enough questions?”

Hal glanced at you wistfully but did as he was told. He helped you into the fur-trimmed cloak and you pulled the hood up as he helped you step into the boots and laced them tightly. Hal snatched up his own cap as he followed you and the king into the corridor.

You walked behind Loki and his guards, Hal was at your side and foreboding set deep in your stomach. You could guess at the event on the green though you hoped it wasn’t as you expected.

You came out into the blustery winter light and a crowd gathered around a stage erected over the white yard. Just before the walls of Boulder Tower, housed tight within the borders of the palace, a platform stood awaiting the executioner and his victim. You stopped short and Hal quickly caught your elbow and urged you on. The king peered over his shoulder in a wordless reproach.

The people parted as the monarch approached and you were diverted into the crowd of onlookers by another armored man. You went unnoticed as the king passed to the front of the audience and you stood alone with the steely sentinel.

A hush went over the crowd as the king stood with his head high. The hooded executioner came out onto the stage and waited by the lever. Armor clinked and announced the arrival of the criminal before he appeared. Magnus had only rags wrapped around his feet and shreds of clothing barely hanging from his form.

He twitched nervously but showed little emotion as he was herded up the steps. The hooded man came forward to wrap the noose around his neck and a holy man offered muttered prayers to the condemned.

You froze as you gaped up at the scene. It felt like a horrid nightmare. The prisoner shrugged away the holy man and strained against the rope. He looked across the green and his eyes narrowed at the king stood among the masses.

“Fuck the king!” He shouted and the lever was pulled suddenly.

The heavy body plummeted downward and all could hear the crack of his neck above their gasps. It was a sickly sound that made your legs weak. You saw Hal, close to the king’s shoulder, lower his head and a few onlookers swayed before they fainted. You felt queasy but did not waver.

You only remained as you were as slowly, those who still had sense, roused those in shock and dispersed. Those who had fallen were carried away by their companions and you still did not move. It was only as the king’s figure retreated that you were woken from your trance.

“Shall I have his skull boiled and brought to you?” He asked as he neared with his guards in tow. You shook your head and looked away from him. Your eyes stung. “Do not act as if I’m the same as they were,” he lowered his voice as he leaned in. “They would’ve killed you and the child. Where do you think they were taking you?”

You shivered and pulled your hood low to hide your distress. Loki let out a breath that clouded before him in the cold. Snow crunched as an unseen figure neared and another armoured man came up breathlessly. You peeked from beneath your cloak and king frowned at the guard’s frantic energy.

“What is it now?” He poked the guard’s breastplate harshly.

“Your majesty,” the man caught his breath in rasps, “The prince--”

“What of my brother?” Loki tensed and fidgeted as he glared at the guard.

“He is gone. He has escaped.” The guard announced. “He--”

“What do you mean he is gone?!” Loki seized the guard by the mail that poked up around his cowl. “How could he be gone?”

“It seems there was a plot. Lord Fandral and his ilk--”

“Fuck!” Loki shoved away the man and punched his palm. “Fuck!!!” He shouted and looked around at the liveried guards, “Well, you fools, go find them!”

#loki #dark!loki #dark loki #loki x reader #the bitch is back #series #by the king's hand #dark fic #fic #dark!fic #au #medieval au #magnus #dark!thor #dark thor #thro #king!loki

313 notes · View notes

plantsarefun06 · 4 years ago

Text

Creation of Lazarus

"But I know the rage that drives you. That impossible anger strangling the grief, until the memory of your loved one is just poison in your veins. And one day, you catch yourself wishing the person you loved had never existed, so you'd be spared your pain."

-Ra’s al Ghul ----

Ra’s was born in the Arabi desert, to nomads, in 1430. If you asked any person from that tribe what Ra’s was, they would say “A boy with dreams”. Ra’s had dreams of knowledge, dreams of helping others, he dreamed of having a legacy, and a great one at that.

His dreams led him to leave his tribe. He knew that as a nomad, he would never truly achieve what he wished to and the best course of action was to settle down in a great city and continue the measly education that he got as a nomad, and the great knowledge the libraries of the Sultan provided.

His studies led him to a physician. Ra’s requested to become a physician, he wanted to help others, this would offer him an opportunity to study and learn about diseases and ailments, firsthand, and offer him chances to help the sick and injured.

The physician asked for one thing. “I am infirm and soon for the grave. My daughter, Sora, she will need a husband to look after her.” That’s when he heard a yell from the curtain behind the clerk’s desk. A woman swiftly pushed back the curtain to scold her father. “I thought we agreed you’d stop trying to marry me off!”

The girl, clearly about his age, looked at him, let out a quick huff before grabbing his wrist in a vice-like grip and dragging him behind the clerk’s desk, behind the curtain, into what he could now see was a closet, with medicines and serums lining the walls, all filled with cobwebs and dust, clearly having not been used in a while.

“I’ll be honest with you Ra’s… I don’t really like boys much… but I can offer you companionship and support. And if we get married it will make my father’s last days much happier.” He was evaluating what she said as she said it when she quickly looked over to the shelves “And him stop pestering me.” She mumbled more to herself than Ra’s. At that he let out a light chuckle and having thought over her offer gave her his thoughts.

“I admit, I’m more interested in the pursuit of knowledge than women. We might be able to come to some… mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Sora gave a light smile to Ra’s, and he returned it. They both understood the agreement they both had created.

----

Within the year, as they all had expected, Sora’s father had died.

Despite them knowing that the time was drawing near, it was still hard. Sora would never admit it, but she shed a tear at his funeral, watching the bird fly through the skies as he was laid out in the Tower of Silence for a sky burial, traditional for his Zoroastrianism.

To cope Ra’s delved into his studies and found a project of the late physician. He had seen him look over it many times, but he had never been allowed to read the texts. He would simply watch as the physician would spend hours pouring over the texts, before the physician would finally come over and teach him about traditional medicinal herbs and serums and their effects. Ra’s forever acknowledges that he learned more in his months under the physician's tutelage, than he ever did in the library.

He learned of how diseases spread, and the common ways they would extend across the city in the matter of weeks. How if they started within the markets, they would quickly spread across many of the peasants, and other middle-class folk, but they wouldn’t get much farther, and how if the diseases started amongst the slaves, they would spread much faster due to the unsanitary conditions, and they would often then be picked up by someone of upper class, as they traditionally had slaves, and spread.

He was eternally grateful for the lessons he was given. They helped him serve the city in incredible ways. Ra’s performed near miracles for anyone who needed it. His reputation started to grow, some upper-class citizens would refuse to come, because Ra’s would cater to slaves, but others would request the treatment of Ra’s and would always find themselves healed within the week.

But these texts that he found of the physicians, seemed to have some pages with herbs and brews, but the majority held drawings of people, dressed in unfamiliar clothing, all bright, with texts in a script he couldn't begin to understand. He looked among the pages and found what looked to be a cypher in the physician's handwriting. The physician had part of the unfamiliar script figured out… no not script… it was CODE! The texts were coded!

All he would need to do was complete the cypher and he would discover what the texts were for.

----

Ra’s poured hours into the texts and completing the code, with no such luck.

“It’s no good. These codes your father was working on have me beat. I can’t break it…” He called to his wife, who was currently working in the front of the shop after it closed about an hour ago, she was preparing for the next day, he supposed.

“Perhaps I can help?” She poked her head in from behind the curtain to peer at him being over the table.

“Thank you, Sora. A warm bowl of goat’s milk and nutmeg would be most refreshing.” Ra’s commented back to her, without lifting his eyes from the texts in front of him.

He could practically feel the glare she was giving him. He wasn’t entirely sure it wouldn’t burn him with the intensity he could only feel from it, and he wasn’t even looking at her.

“I mean with the code. I learnt much from my father and knew he was struggling to complete his final great work, just as much as you. You’re not married to a servant girl, Ra’s. Warm the milk yourself, and let me see those figures.” The defiance in her tone was thick and her anger was subtle yet tangible. He didn’t understand it but that defiance, and strong will made him want to love her.

He knew that their relationship was built on the agreement of companionship, and for the safety of Sora after her father’s death, but he would be lying if he said that he didn’t love her. Love the way she would snark him when he would ask her to do things, that he could do himself, love how she would hum as she cooked the dinner that they ate every night, her loved how she would ever so lightly furrow her eyebrow when she was concentrated on work.

Ra’s let out a small smile and turned to meet his wife by the curtain. He bent down to kiss her forehead, “Sora… I believe this is going to be a beautiful marriage.” He gave her a light hug before giving her another kiss on her forehead and mumbling to her just loud enough for her to hear, “I’ll go warm some goat’s milk for the both of us, and you can look over the codes, until I get back, and we can work on them together.” He gave her a light squeeze before unraveling himself from her and going off to warm the goat’s milk, and Sora heading over to the table to study the texts.

----

“More code?” Ra’s asked no one in particular. He and Sora had stumbled upon a trapdoor underneath a floor mat in the medicinal closet while cleaning. Ra’s could tell from the hinges alone that it was used regularly. When they opened the hatch they saw that it led down a small ladder, the ladder led to a room, an underground cave almost, despite it being quite dark he could make out the sound of lightly sloshing water and summarized that there was a pool in this cave.

They both held small candles, and when holding them close to the wall they saw it. It was a wall full of more texts! They were familiar enough with the code to recognize that the code from the texts upstairs matched the one in front of them.

A glint of recognition and understanding was in Sora’s eyes. “My father was working on a map of the Tibetan mountains, using the wisdom of the stars and other maps from the libraries of the Sultan. And figuring out the meaning of the code from texts of the ancients. A code showing…” She stopped speaking, her eyes running over a few things before stopping.

“And code of what?” Ra’s questioned Sora’s sudden quietness and turned to give her his whole focus. Her eyes were completely fixed on one drawing. It was of the silhouette of a man, behind him was a circle of purple. The way it was positioned it seemed to be describing the man emitting the purple. Like he was glowing.

He refocused his attention on his wife’s face as she turned to him, “One which tells the way to achieve something men have long dreamed-” he saw the emotions his wife’s face held. Emotions he had never seen in her face before, it was complete and utter disbelief,

“-a wish to change reality.”

----

They soon were able to decipher enough code to learn that the Tibetan mountains was the location of the Temple of Guardians, the holders of two pieces of magical jewelry that possessed the ability, when combined, to grant a wish that could alter reality.

Sora and Ra’s had both packed enough for a 3-week trip on horseback, to the Tibetan mountains, and back. Ra’s had won the argument over who would be going, Sora wanting it to be herself, but eventually agreeing Ra’s would be better suited for the job, considering he grew up as a nomad, much to Sora’s chagrin.

He had been on trek for a week and was taking a rest on the side of the dirt road to fill his canteen with water from a stream he saw nearby, when he saw a flash of light blue and white out of the corner of his eyes. He immediately drew one of the daggers that he carried at all times and started to look around for what he saw.

He hadn’t fought anyone in a decade, last time being a practice spar with his uncle the night before he left to go live in the city alone, and even then, he was only okay, but he did know some forms of martial arts and weaponry in theory. He read about it in some of the texts from the library, while theory may not have anything on experience, it was better than nothing.

He was beginning to think he had either come down with a fever and been hallucinating, or he had simply been seeing things, when after five minutes of surveying the area, he could see that no one had been there.

He walked up to his undisturbed horse and grabbed the reins. Upon lifting himself on the horse he heard a light *jingle*. He looked down to find a small drawstring bag tied around the tip of his saddle. He was used to seeing little drawstring bags, like this one, around the shop. Sora often used them to hold the herbs they used for medical purposes, but he didn’t know why she would have packed it, or why it jingled when it was shaken.

He slowly picked it up, examining it as if it were going to spontaneously catch fire. He slowly undid the knot and overturned the contents of it in his gloved hand.

Out fell two earrings and a ring…

A ring that was a black as dark as the night sky he saw as a nomad child, with a pawprint, greener than any grass or any tapestry he had seen before…

And a pair of earrings red as the blood he had seen countless times as a physician, and five distinct spots, black as the ring…

Both the ring and the earrings looking exactly like the drawings he had seen of the Black Cat miraculous and the Ladybug miraculous he had seen in the texts.

Ra’s had learned many lessons in his life, but one of the biggest, most important of them all: There are no coincidences in the world.

Ra’s had no doubt in his mind that in his hand, he held the two most powerful objects in the universe, two objects that would grant him a wish.

Slowly, a grin grew on his face. He immediately seized the reins of his horse, and turned him around, heading faster than he ever had back to the city.

His father-in-law's final project was finally completed on its way to being completed.

----

The look on Sora’s face was one he had only seen once before, when they first discovered the small area underneath the shop, complete and utter disbelief.

“This… these jewels… are they really the Black Cat and Ladybug miraculous?” She asked wide-eyed, just looking at what Ra’s had set on the counter after barging into the shop, in a ridiculously loud manner, might she add.

“I do believe it is, they practically feel powerful!”

Sora slowly inched her hand toward where the earrings fell on the counter. The moment she gently brushed her finger against one of the earrings, a bright pink light emitted from it, one that forced both Sora and Ra’s to cover their eyes.

Once the light dimmed, they saw something that was not in the texts.

Both Sora and Ra’s were in a state of shock. It was broken when the thing floated up to her face and began to speak, “Hello my name’s Tikki. I’m the Kwami of Creation!” She said, giving a little twirl in the air.

Ra’s, finally able to speak again, asked, “That does not explain much. What is a ‘Kwami’ and why did you suddenly appear when the earrings were touched by Sora?”

“Ooh. A Kwami is an entity tethered to this plane of reality by the jewelry that is sitting on your counter. I’m the entity of creation. When everything came to be, I came to be with it, not before, not after, some people confuse that.” The ‘Kwami’, as they both learned it was, giggled before continuing with the explanation they both needed, “I’m the thing that gives power to that jewelry, without me, that jewelry is just some antique junk.” She finished her explanation.

It made more sense than just ‘magical jewelry’ to have some entity tethered to it. “If you touch the ring Plagg will come out!” She exclaimed before going over to Ra’s and pulling off his glove and grabbing his hand. She pulled his hand from his side and he willingly allowed the ‘Kwami’ to lift his finger to touch the ring.

A second burst of bright light, green this time, came from the ring. This time Sora and Ra’s expected it so it wasn’t too bad. They only had to blink a couple times before they heard a yawn, “Well that was a good cat nap!” The other ‘Kwami’, who he was guessing his name was ‘Plagg’ from what ‘Tikki’ said, “Do you all have some cheese, I’m starving!”

Sora was the one who pulled herself together enough to answer ‘Plagg’s’ question, “There is some food in the cabinet under the basin. You may find what you are looking for there.” Sora gestured to the curtain and both Kwami got the memo, before floating off where Sora indicated the food would be.

Both Ra’s and Sora locked eyes. Their silent conversation led to them both leaving each other's gaze to eye the ring and earrings. They both agreed that they had no idea what had just happened.

----

“That is not a good idea.”

That was the only thing that was said after Sora and Ra’s took them to see the basement beneath their shop that held the texts and the pool. Both of the Kwami were faced away from the texts as ‘they should not see them’. Ra’s gave them an indignant look at their immediate dismissal of their want for a wish.

“This could help hundreds maybe even thousands of people, how is this not a good idea?”

“You don’t understand, the wish has major repercussions, you can always ask for a way to heal the injured and dead, but that wish will have untold side-effects.” Tikki tried to explain to both Ra’s and Sora. The sincerity in her voice was deep, but they did not hear the sadness that lingered in it as well.

“Will you not allow us to make the wish?” Sora asked, tilting her head to the side, as if analyzing the situation.

“We cannot stop you from making the wish, but we must tell you, it will have repercussions, and the one who makes the wish will feel them deeply.” Sorrow again seeped into Tikki’s voice; this time Ra’s noticed it as well.

“Then I will make the wish, I have memorized the incantation and only one of us can make the wish itself.” He pulled the now silver ring and black earrings from his pocket. He placed the ring on his left middle finger. He prepared to force the earrings through his ears, worst case scenario he could use whatever came of the wish to heal himself, only to be pleasantly surprised when the earrings glided through his ear as if he did have a piercing.

Both the Kwami moved to the outstretched hands Ra’s offered and sat down. Ra’s failed to notice the tears in Tikki’s eyes, and the downcast look on Plagg’s face.

The moment he uttered the last syllable, the rush to Ra’s was undeniable. He felt immense amounts of power seeping into his veins.

“I wish to have the means to heal any injury and return any person from death.”

And everything went quiet. All the power he was feeling only moments ago, felt like it was running off him, like dirt would in a shower.

He looked over to see Sora sitting in the ground shielding her face, much in the same manner she was when they first met the Kwami.

Both the earrings and ring started to burn lightly, so he ripped them off and threw them behind him, before running over to Sora and helping her stand.

Ra’s felt at his ear, where he just ripped the earring out, noticing the earrings didn’t leave so much as a scar.

Looking to check over Sora, he saw out of the corner of his eyes a bright green glow.

Both Ra’s and Sora looked over to see a neon, toxic green color at the bottom center of the pool.

It was mesmerizing how the green stretched from a small center at the bottom of the pool out, almost like tentacles, or tree roots growing out in the dirt.

He continued to watch until the entire pool was filled with the green, when he saw the same white and light blue flash out of the corner of his eyes. He tried to turn quickly and catch it, but the only thing he saw was an empty room.

A room empty of both the Black Cat and Ladybug miraculous.

----

Life went on relatively normal for Ra’s and Sora. They cleaned out the basement and removed the texts, as they were no use to him anymore, and cleaned the area.

When finding a name, they settled on one- Lazarus Pit - from a biblical story that Sora’s father mentioned in one of the texts.

He had said ‘he wanted to be able to do the same as the Christian’s god, and revive the dead. And if the wish truly worked, it would be able to, they had yet to try the pit and test the magic that quite obviously resided within it.

----

As time went on, and the pit remained below their feet, Ra’s continued his work as a physician, continuing working miracles without the use of the pit, which was an actual miracle. His reputation grew both of his physician's duties, and of the great mind he held. He was referred to as “the greatest mind of his age” by some.

Ra’s had heard him referred to as this on occasion, but he didn’t realize just how far word of his miracles went until the Sultan’s guard requested his aid in healing the prince who had fallen ill.

As the guards left his shop, leaving him with the letter asking him officially of his aid he immediately turned to Sora with quite possibly the largest smile he ever had on his face, “If I could cure the prince-- our reputation would be made, I’d have the funding to push my research forward-”

He was cut off by Sora who he only realized was rubbing her temple with her hands at his rant, “The prince is nothing but a cruel young aristo-- I’ve caught him leering at me in the Bazaar!”

“Don’t do this Ra’s. We can do without the Sultan’s money!” Sora pleaded to him. She held a look of concern on her face that Ra’s completely ignored, rather thinking about what he could possibly do with the benefits of healing a prince.

“You’re wrong! When I walked through the desert, I nurtured a dream. This is my way to fulfill it!”

Ra’s turned away from Sora, and headed down below the shop, to the Pit.

----

Everything went wrong. And Ra’s had no idea how.

Everything was going fine.

The royal guards had brought the sick prince to his shop as requested by Ra’s. The moment he saw the prince Ra’s knew that he was on his deathbed… he knew the only way to help him was using the Lazarus Pit.

He had the guards bring him down the ladder and he followed them, with Sora by his side.

They dipped the prince in the Pit. They let him wade. It was only seconds, maybe a minute, at most, before the prince burst out from under the water. Certainly not sickly like he was, to the point of not being able to walk, not like he was when he arrived.

For the briefest moment Ra’s lived in this fantasy where the Pit healed the Prince, and Ra’s got the reputation he wanted, the funding he needed, and got to continue the research that he always wanted to. He lived in this fantasy where he and Sora worked side-by-side, studied medicine, and became great physicians known for their miracles.

This fantasy ended when the prince left at Sora his eyes, we're not the same as they were when he went in; they were yellow and feral. There was a snap before the guards were able to subdue him. They only realized that the snap was from Sora’s neck. And Sora laid on the ground with scratch marks on her face, her head bent at an unnatural angle, and a small drop of blood dripping down her cheek, from her mouth.

Ra’s fell beside her body, unmoving, he saw out of the corner of his eyes, the prince stopped struggling in the guards' arms and seemed to gain some form of coherency of the situation, but he could not look away from her. He didn’t even breathe until the guards grabbed him as well and put a bag over his head.

Everything went wrong.

----

They said he killed her. The Sultan was told by the prince’s guards that his son had killed the wife of the physician that treated him for his illness.

That he had snapped her neck. In return the guards were killed. They could not have the truth be spread. It could cause uprising if such rumors were told to others. So, the moment he was told the story, directly from the prince’s guards who had been there, and he got assurance that they had taken the husband -the physician- and put him in the dungeons, and after that assurance was placed, he had his personal guards slit their throats.

It wasn’t hard to say it was the husband who did it. Without the guards to tell what happened, and the physician in such a state of shock he wouldn’t even talk, no one questioned what the Sultan said.

How did this happen again?

Why did the prince look like that?

He looked feral?

His eyes were near yellow?

Why would he attack her?

Why would he kill her?

Why did he seem to be fine after a minute or being restrained?

Why?

They were the only questions Ra’s was asking himself of late.

He was completely unreactive on the outside but was perfectly aware of what was happening. He was perfectly aware of how the Sultan was placing the blame on him. How the Sultan was saying he killed Sora. He killed his wife.

And yet he knew that regardless of the fact he was innocent, he would still be blamed and persecuted for her death. So, he sat still and continued to ask those questions in his head.

How did this happen again?

Why did the prince look like that?

He looked feral?

His eyes were near yellow?

Why would he attack her?

Why would he kill her?

Why did he seem to be fine after a minute or being restrained?

Why?

He knew he was being gagged, tied up, and dragged from his cell from the dungeons beneath the castle. He knew that this is when they would punish him. It would be death.

How he would die?

He did not know.

Likely a public flogging, beating, or torture of some kind before then bend him over a rock and to take his head off.

And to be honest, Ra’s couldn’t feel anything, he was completely numb as his knees, calves, and feet were dragged over the dirt, and cobble leaving long scars. He knew they were supposed to sting, and burn, and just hurt, but he couldn’t feel a thing. He knew that was a bad sign, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He didn’t start to see anything until he saw it. There was a cage in the center of the courtyard, black iron, probably burning hot with the sun as it is, but that is not what caught his eye. It was the body of Sora that laid in it.

He started to feel the burn of the metal as they forced him in the same small cage as Sora. He was forced to curl in on himself as her body lay not 6 inches from him. Sat up against the side of the cage, with rope tied around her neck and waist, keeping her sitting upright, and facing the rest of the unbearably small cage. Her eyes still opened in the same shock they were in when he first was beside her body.

He felt as the cage was lifted up, the burn of the hot metal only worsening, as they carried the cage out to the city walls, to leave him in the desert to die.

----

His eyes never stayed off Sora’s for long. He remembered what her eyes looked like…

… these are not her eyes.

Sora’s eyes held none of what it used to. Her eyes held confidence, charm, they held stubbornness and defiance. All the things that made Sora the woman she was. All the things that were devoid in those eyes.

Those eyes were open and held only one thing: fear. And that was unlike Sora at all. Sora was never afraid.

But maybe she was of death. Maybe her eyes held fear because she realized what was going to happen…

...because she realized she was going to die.

----

Ra’s didn’t know how long he sat in that cage outside the city walls, staring into the unfamiliar eyes.

All he knew was that the trance was broken by the sound of creaking metal. The hinges. And the feeling of hands going under his arms and pulling him up. He had the strength to turn his head and be met with a face that was faintly familiar.

“Who are you?” He weakly rasped out. “Sabih, I’m a slave for the al-Hafiz family. You saved my mother from dysentery four months ago… I figured I owed you the same.”

And that’s all they said. That’s all they said when he walked back towards the al-Hafiz property. That’s all they said after Sabih settled him in the stables and fed him some water and leftover scraps. That’s all they said as Sabih handed Ra’s a small bag with some water, and food in it. That’s all they said before Ra’s returned to the outside of the city walls, and left on a search for the nomadic tribe he was born and raised in.

He didn’t know what to do, but he was going to figure it out, but not do it in that city.

----

It took him a few weeks, and some manual labor in return for supplies, before he found his uncle’s nomads and took control. It was relatively easy.

By the time he had found the nomads he had been able to sort through his mind. Find his priorities.

And right now, he wanted one thing: he wanted the great city to burn.

He wanted them all dead, he just had to be smart about it. He was thankful, now more than ever for the lessons Sora’s father gave.

It would be easy, he would start by giving a disease to the slaves, if the disease would spread quick enough, it could be passed down the classes and severely weaken the city. Especially if the slaves were hit first, considering that the city was built with them as their foundation.

----

The city was ravaged. Those who didn’t die of disease were killed by Ra’s and his men. When the priests of the Zoroastrian Delegation asked if they spared them and their Holy Towers of Silence. Ra’s turned to the man who was the messenger of the request and bared his teeth.

“Kill the priests. Burn their sacred buildings!”

Ra’s stood in before the destruction he caused. He returned to the city a very different man from when he first arrived there.

A man with a different dream…

Ra’s walked back to the old shop. One that he spent much time in. Leading the others down to the opening below the shop to allow them to see the Lazarus Pit.

“Uncle, you are still the leader of our tribe, but the tribe I am describing will stretch farther than the sands of Arabi. Stretch into every land… past the wall of every city.” Ra’s spoke keeping his voice low and authoritarian. His uncle let off a chuckle.

“Oh, nephew. Just like your father. You were always the dreamer. What you speak of it too… fantastical.” His words made Ra’s a bit angry, but a bit smug at the same time. His uncle had no idea what the Pit in front of his very eyes was capable of.

“*tch* My father never had half my vision, Uncle, nor half my talent.”

His uncle just sputtered in response, “But… it would take several lifetimes for one man to accomplish what you speak of!”

Ra’s just smirked at his words, “Yes, uncle. Yes indeed. And it will be quite some journey.”

“I don’t understand.”

Ra’s focused on the pit, reminded of Tikki’s words…

“You don’t understand, the wish has major repercussions, you can always ask for a way to heal the injured and dead, but that wish will have untold side-effects.”

“We cannot stop you from making the wish, but we must tell you, it will have repercussions, and the one who makes the wish will feel them deeply.”

He truly did. The creation of this wish helped him achieve one of his life’s greatest desires, one of his greatest loves, and in return he lost the love of his life, Sora.

And if you are to use the Lazarus Pit to heal physical injuries, you will suffer from temporary loss of sanity.

Truly a balance.

“You will learn in time. Time is something we have a great deal of. The destruction of this city… has unleashed a demon.

And I… Ra’s al Ghul… I am truly the Demon’s Head!”

----------

Heavily based off of Batman Annual Vol. 1 26

‘al Ghul’ translates to Demon’s Head in Arabic. Notice how that ‘al Ghul’ is only used during the quote at the beginning of the story(yes I did use a quote from the Nolan movies. It fit really well), and at the end when he loses it.

This is the closest I could possibly get to DC canon on Ra’s al Ghul’s origin. In the original Ra’s does not create the pits he simply finds them, with the help of maps left behind by the physician. I wrote this because I really wanted a Miraculous created Lazarus pit, but one that also had Sora in it. I really like her for the scene with the goat’s milk (that is comic accurate, you can check) and what happened to her was NOT deserved. I also wanted to show the human side of Ra’s, and how rage drove him to be such an evil person.

Also a headcanon of mine is that any miraculous jewelry that is some sort of piercing, does not actually require a piercing to wear, it will just go through the skin as if there was a piercing.

The ‘light blue flash’ that Ra’s thinks he hallucinated was a holder of the Rabbit miraculous leaving both the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous to him. This is done because the Lazarus pits are necessary to a stable timeline, not because whatever holder of the Rabbit miraculous is active, thought it was a good idea. They were practically forced.

Ra’s and Sora were closer to each other than anyone else, she was referred to as the love of his life, and they really had a deep bond and when Sora was killed he was broken. In the comic I based this off of, Talia even says, “[...]the death of Sora broke your grandfather’s heart… and forever darkened his soul.” when speaking to Damian.

#maribat #ra's al ghul #sora al ghul #lazarus pit #ml tikki #ml plagg #miraculous fandom #prequel #the blindness of marinette

71 notes · View notes

diaco1968 · 4 years ago

Text

Of Proud Fragile Hearts

Bakugou x reader

Angst, Blood is mentioned, Hanahaki disease

Under the cut cause it got too long :')

"What is your problem, Katsuki?"

You whisper yelled at Bakugou after everyone else had already left the conference room, closing the door and locking it as you turned to face the boy, leaning back in his chair, arms tightly crossed over his broad chest, scowling.

In the past few months that you two have been secretly hooking up, he had gone through not caring about your daily life, to trying to make you listen to his healthy tips, to fleeting episodes of jealousy and then some. Yet when you pointed it out to him he would deny it. Usually either by changing the subject and leading it to your usual ordeal of a hook up or if he was still feeling possesive by moving straight to pinning you down and shutting you up by some steamy make out session. Either way, the hook up is what would happen and then you'd both go away on your separate daily lives.

You had grown fund of him enough not to mind getting together with him if he was the one who'd step up first. Hell you would love to. He was hot, he knew how to spoil you, he remembered little things and despite his fiery temper he knew how to treat you properly like a woman. To sum it up, he was boyfriend material. Except he was emotionally unavailable. And you were fine with that. But recently as you started making friends with Kaminari, Bakugou also started acting up. You two acted like mere acquaintances in public and in the agency it was lonely. Then there was Kaminari, the Pikachu. He was easy to be around, easy to talk to and easy to listen to. So you befriended him. It was really nothing at all. You'd hang out with him when you couldn't hang out with Bakugou. Much to Bakugou's dismay, those times would be right in front of his eyes, earning you dirty looks and some sulking episodes every time.

And now only minutes ago during the briefing, he had been sitting across from you and Kaminari, and when Kaminari said anything he would mock and humiliate him. It was hard to even watch so you stood up for him and Bakugou shot you a nasty look before he stopped participating all together. Honestly you were glad he didn't start mocking you instead. But this behaviour towards the poor guy was unacceptable. He didn't even know why he was being targeted by Bakugou's wrath.

His eyes shot up to yours not believing what he was hearing. "What is my problem?! What the fuck is your problem!" He shot back, earning a 'Shhh!' from you. "You had no business picking on Denki like that." You scolded and he sneered "Denki?" You rolled your eyes glaring at him as he went on "you had no business sitting with Denki the whole day long. You had no business snickering and chatting and flirting with him during the conference like that. You had no fucking business standing up to me for him!" He leaned forward in his chair, placing his arms on his knees.

"We were not flirting! Everyone knows about his crush on that recruit from the IT for fuck's sake. And Denki is my friend, Bakugou! Who are you? Should I have been sitting by you? Chatting you up?" You said harshly, sarcasm dripping off of your last few words. To his sheer surprise, he felt his chest tighten from the way you addressed him with his last name right after you called Kaminari by his first name. He knew you had a point. He knew he was the one setting things up the way they were, for his work always came first and in his path to success there was no place for a full time partner or dealing with the rumours of one even existing. He knew he had no right to complain about this now. Yet, he couldn't help the pang of jealousy that rose deep in his heart whenever he saw you hanging out with that dunceface so freely.

Your keen eyes seemed to have caught him slightly off guard and your own pent up hurt and rejection clawed at your logic before you could stop yourself and you went in for another low blow "even if I am flirting with anyone, it is none of your business unless it gets physical. That was the deal. Take it or leave it."

His jaw visibly clenched, nostrils flaring as he inhaled sharply before snorting "so that's the problem. You already have some one else for back up to warm your bed just in case, huh?" there was no way to take it back now, and he was too angry to try. You watched him in silence, disbelief and hurt written all over your face. At first he felt triumphant for rendering you speechless with his snarky remark but seeing the hurt in your eyes and your pursed lips he regretted opening his mouth at all. He wished you would just yell at him, punch him even. But you did nothing as a few minutes of torturous silence passed on between the two of you, your eyes searching his face for a sign that the man you loved and cared for didn't actually come to know you as such a person he just described. You had thought you were at least friends. He opened his mouth when he saw your eyes started to glisten but before he could say anything, you exploded.

"You know what Bakugou! Fuck you! You and your whole bullshit!" You threw the first thing you could grab at him which happened to be an empty glass, that missed his head when he docked shattering on the wall behind him. "You're so emotionally unstable, you don't even know what the fuck you want yourself! Let alone get to know anyone else you arrogant piece of shit!"

His brief sadness from making you upset faded from his mind as rage took it's place filling him up to the brim and spilling out as he shot up in his place, his chair scraping on the floor and falling back. He slammed his hands on the table in front of him, saying words he had come to feel anxious even thinking about hearing "oh fuck it all to hell. You wanna know what I want, fuckwipe? You're a waste of time, I want this over and done with. We're through!" He headed for the door walking right past you.

His insult really dealt some heavy damage on your pride as angry tears filled up your eyes and you gathered all you had not to let them spill "fine with me Fuckboy! Go be a nuisance to someone else!"

He had his hand on the doorknob, knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping it with anger, he pulled it once and found it locked. Not bothering to unlock it, he exploded the whole thing open loudly, the door turning on it's hinges and slamming on the opposite wall, him stepping out and leaving amidst the dust barking at the peering colleagues who scattered away immediately "what?! Get back to work extras!"

You left the room after you made sure he was gone, hoping you could hold your emotional breakdown in the whole way home, having to raise your hand up to your mouth to suppress the multiple coughs as you inhaled the dust from the explosion.

He kicked his boots off, threw his jacket to the side and plopped down on the couch covering his face with his hands and releasing a heavy groan "ugh what the actual fuck did I say... stupid fucking dumbass..." his hands were cold and fingers shaky from the after effects of the rage leaving his body but he was too stubborn to let remorse invade his mind yet. Not fully at least. You were at fault too! "She shouldn't have provoked me like that! Annoying brat!" He spat as he lay down on the couch, but In the back of his mind, your hurt glistening eyes and shocked expresseion was creeping in the darker abyss of his brain, haunting him slowly. Then his mind wandered to the argument, your words resonating in his now mostly dark and empty mind.

'Who are you Bakugou?'

'Take it or leave it'

The way you said that so nonchalantly... did you not care at all if he left you?... after all you've been through? He wouldn't ever say it, but he had opened up to you more than anyone, you knew that. He knew you did.

'Fuckboy'

'Nuisance'

His throat constricted violently and he had to sit up and cough harshly to clear it. "Tsk fuck it. I don't give a shit." Rising from his seat he went to the fridge to get something to eat and grabbed his phone to call Eijiro to see what he was up to tonight.

"You've been sick for a while now, maybe you should see a doctor? It doesn't look like a simple cold..."

Bakugou waved his hand nonchalantly, dismissing Kirishima's concerns as he coughed into the palm of his other hand, shutting his eyes and trying to concentrate on controlling his breathing through his nose. Even though he feigned indifference he was worried himself too. It's been 2 weeks since the coughing started and it wasn't just coughing either. He would occasionally find himself out of breath and unable to get enough oxygen in his lungs without opening his mouth and taking in a sharp gulp of air. As if he was losing his lung capacity. '(Y/n) would know how to get rid of this...' he groaned in annoyance as he caught himself thinking about you again. You had made your choice. It was obvious. He even texted you to meet up, but you've been ignoring him ever since the argument half a month ago... felt like years...

His heart clenched, along with his jaw as he felt another epiode of coughs coming. He rose to his feet and headed for the bathroom "be back in a sec." He replied to Kirishima's questioning look with a hoarse voice. The noise cancelling bar bathroom was starting to become too familiar for his liking, as he had frequented it quite often in the past 2 weeks. Not alcoholic often, but the free time he usually spent with you was now spent working over time or with Eijiro at his favorite place...

He burst out into another coughing fit, gripping the sink as he bent over it. He could feel a hard lump move in his throat as he heaved his lungs out, finally managing to spit out what was stuck in his airways. And to his utmost horror he was not relieved at all by the sight and the sound.

What spilled out of his mouth and scattered inside the sink with soft 'thud' sound, was a fist full worth of what looked to be... seeds?!

His hand shot out and grabbed a few bringing them close to his eyes and squeeshing them between his fingers to make sure. "What the fuck...?!" He whispered mind wandering to each and everyone of his recent quarells with the villains trying to recall anyone at all with a floral quirk. Was this what caused the coughing?

It took him quite a while to get over the initial shock but when he was sure he wasn't coughing anymore he headed back to his table with Kirishima, plopping down tiredly in his seat. "You look pale bro, what's up? You weren't a light weight last time I checked." Eijiro teased, making him smirk tauntingly in reply "I can drink 5 times as much as it takes to knock you off your feet and still be barely tipsy, dumbass. Don't test me." They both laughed and Bakugou forgot about his problems for a little while, hoping spitting out those seeds was the end of it.

And it seemed to be. He hadn't coughed for a while now. At least not until the breaking news popped up over the screen right across from where he was sitting.

"The notorious spider villain escaped the law once again but hero (your hero name) managed to save all the victims, with the help of none other than hero Deku, who just landed a few hours ago for his vacation-..."

The words flashed in his mind and the voice of the reporter faded as he watched the screen showing the scene after the rescue, where you were talking to that bastard Deku, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck with a grin, like you used to do when Bakugou made you shy and you never had any idea how cute it made you look, and he was smiling down at you.

Violent coughs errupted out of his chest and he covered his mouth just in time to stop the content from spilling out as he shot up from his seat and made his way outside for some fresh air. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gasped for air lightly, leaning on his shoulder on the wall outside, opening his palm to see the same few seeds and a bunch of delicate red and white petals. He stared at his palm with wide eyes for a few more seconds before crumbling them in his fist as he felt someone's presence behind him. "I really really think you should see a doctor." Kirishima put a hand on his shoulder.

"I will. Right fucking now actually. This shit is so annoying."

"I said when I cough flowers come out- ugh! Hey! I know I sound crazy! Don't stare at me like that!" He let out a frustrated groan as he sat there on the bed for his check up, answering the confused doctor. "We have not encountered this before mr Bakugou, you don't sound crazy. I would have to check the database again for quirks with this kind of side effect. Meanwhile if you could... provide a sample would be really useful."

"Sure, I'll just cough my lungs out for buried seeds till you get back..." Bakugou clicked his tongue and gestured for the doctor to show it was okay to go do whatever he needed to do.

And again he sat there alone and annoyed, watching the rest of the hospital, from the little space he was provided by the door that the doctor forgot to close properly.

You always refused to close the door too...

He had forgotten how lonely a hospital felt before he had you to fuss over him as he sat there grumbling that he was fine.

He heaved a careful sigh zoning out so when he saw your face, he thought he had imagined it at first.

"Ms. (Y/h/n)! You did amazing today! The room you're looking for is just at the end of this corridor to the left. You actually did a good job finding it." The excited nurse chuckled and Bakugou snapped out of his daze hearing your muffled voice thanking her.

'Always so bad with directions...' he thought bitterly swallowing the lump that was raising in his throat in favour of getting up and following you quietly. He just wanted to know why you were in the hospital, is all. Just making sure your clumsy ass didn't hurt yourself.

He stopped outside the door you disappeared into on the other side of the corridor, blended in by the moving patients and busy staff, scoffing sarcastically as you didn't bother closing the door.

His little smile was soon gone however when he saw who you were visiting.

Sat there on the hospital bed was none other than Deku, who had his forearm wrapped in some light bandage. Probably from the rescue they showed on TV earlier. Where you were too. It was normal. You checking up on him after. Totally normal. He reminded himself. 'I could do that at home shitty nerd, no need for a hospital.'

Normal was not where it ended though and what happened next as you got up to leave had Bakugou wishing he had ripped his eyes off you and walked away the moment he had figured you were alright.

"Guess I'll be seeing you around then. Oh and Midoriya," you chuckled mischievously leaning close to whisper in the boy's ear. "I wish you luck with Ochako." Just as you expected, heat rose to his face and he flushed red to the tips of his ears as he started stuttering embarassed and his hand moved up to rub his bandaged arm "ouch!.. I mean!... thank you!"

You both jumped as you heard something metal clattering to the ground in the hallway and you peeked out to see what was going on. Much to your surprise and concern you saw a familiar spiky blonde hair a little further down the corridor. 'Katsuki?' You leaned out of the room more to see better. He looked like he had a terrible time trying to breathe, his shoulders shaking as he heaved cough after cough, bent down with his arms keeping himself up on his slightly bent knees. Your heart clenched at the sight. He looked in pain. The nurse Bakugou had supposedly crashed into, causing him to drop his metal platter to the ground put a hand on his back to try and calm him down. But Bakugou just swatted his hand away "...don't... touch..." he managed to rasp out with an unusually hoarse voice as he gained enough composure to push past the nurse and walk away, still coughing but much less violently.

"What was it?" Deku asked from inside the room.

"Nothing, just a nurse dropping a bunch of stuff..." you said quietly concealing the worry in your voice as you stared after Bakugou down the corridor even after he was already gone.

Blood. Blood and petals. And the occasional flower bloom falling out of his mouth as he coughed. He had been wiping blood off his mouth since he had gotten home from the hospital. The feeling of constantly having one of those petals sticking to the back of his trachea. It was disgusting. The sickening sweet scent filling his nose and mouth made him want to gag. They had suggested hospitalization when they couldn't find anything on his condition and he had refused. But now as the pain in his throat grew ever more intolerable, he was trying his last hope for an answer as he looked for the contact in his phone, playing with the little flower in between his fingers with his free hand absentmindedly.

'Amaryllis...'

He had looked up the shape of the flower as soon as he had seen it, washing the blood off the petals. None of this made any sense to him. How does one cough out flowers? How was this even real?

He dialed the number immediately when he saw the contact name.

"Aizawa sensei"

Despite your efforts to completely ignore Bakugou's existence after your 'break up', you've had Baugou back on your mind ever since a few days ago in the hospital and it wasn't in the best of ways either. His tense shaky shoulders, his harsh hoarse voice, his pained dry heaves. It all sounded and looked so serious but you had no idea what he was down with and it was killing you. You were constantly distracted and it was proving to be such a hassle. Oh how you wished you were not alone in this very moment. Alone in the middle of a crowded square full of civilians.

"What's wrong girly? Can't beat me now without that green lettuce, huh?"

Alone against this dude known as the spider villain. Who was back to take his revenge on the humiliation you and Deku gave him last encounter.

"Oh fuck off bug. Those are your last words before being sprayed back to the sewers?"

You growled getting in your fighting stance and ushering him to come at you.

Bakugou was walking down the street towards the hospital, crumbling the piece of paper with the surgeon's address and name in his fist, deep in his pocket thinking on his meeting with his former teacher a few days ago.

'Amaryllis?' Aizawa had said the moment he saw the bloom in Bakugou's hand, much to his surprise. He never took the old man as a flower person. 'I've only ever seen this once with my own eyes when I was a student myself... wouldn't believe it if I hadn't.' He had pulled out a bunch of old books handing half the stack to Bakugou, probably deliberately chosen ones as there was one on the meaning behind flowers in Bakugou's stack. As he sat down in front of the boy turning pages rapidly scanning the words, Bakugou reluctantly read the book.

'Amaryllis is the only genus in the subtribe Amaryllidinae. It is a small genus of flowering bulbs, with two species. It symbolizes pride.'

He stared at the lines, reading them over and over again with a blank face. Until Aizawa's voice broke him out of his trance.

'Hanahaki Disease is a disease where the victim of unrequited or one-sided love begins to vomit or cough up the petals and flowers of a flowering plant growing in their lungs, which will eventually grow large enough to render breathing impossible if left untreated...'

He paused making Bakugou wonder if it was for adding more dramatic effects as his eyes moved up to lock with Bakugou's

'...until the victim dies unless the feelings of genuine love are returned or the plants are surgically removed but this excision also has the effect of removing the patient's capacity for romantic love. It may also erase the patient’s feelings for and memories of the enamoured.'

It was obvious what Bakugou chose. There was no place in his life for such a hassle as love. It would just get in his way anyway. What a nuisance...

'Nuisance'

'Fuckboy'

His heart clenched making a surge of pain go throught his whole body remembering your words and your tone.

"Reciprocating feelings of genuine love my ass..."

He scoffed pushing his fists deeper in his pockets to keep his shoulders from shaking as a series of coughs ripped out of his throat, staining the black mask in front of his face, with blood.

He bumped shoulders with a guy in front of a TV store who looked distraught enough not to recognize Ground Zero as he apologised and turned back to the TVs on the display in the windows.

Feeling insulted, Bakugou turned to look at what this man was watching that got him so stupid to stand in his way. The moment his eyes met the screen he felt as if his heart stopped. Hands freezing cold and eyes going wide with terror as he watched the live report of none other than you being picked up and thrown a distance away aginst a wall by some villain.

Lying there in the rubble of the building you gasped to catch your breath that flew out of you when your back hit the wall. Before you could wholly come to your senses he was above you again, grabbing you by the neck and picking you back up. Your hands shot up to grab his arm to try and relieve the pressure around your neck, your feet dangling in the air as you tried to kick him off of you but he was smart, keeping you away from himself.

"Just as I thought. I should've found the broccoli. You are a waste of time."

Bakugou's face and a bunch of memories flooded your mind and your eyes stung with unshed tears, feeling it ironic to have to hear this again in what appeared to be the final moments of your life.

The corners of your vision were blurring out as you couldn't breathe in anymore air and you were sure you imagined his voice in your head.

"Get off you fucking bastard!"

The loud growl accompanied by the sound of a loud explosion and the hand around your neck disappearing, the pressure gone. You dropped to the floor on your hands and knees gasping in and looking up to see Bakugou launching himself at the guy who was framed in the opposite wall due to the initial explosion. His bare fist met the bug man's face with a sickening 'crack' and only then did you realise he wasn't even in his hero costume.

"Bakugou... I'm fine..."

You tried calling him but your voice was too strangled. He was delivering punch after curse after punch and the guy seemed to be knocked out long ago.

"Bakugou! Stop..."

You said louder as you got to your feet making your way towards him, hesitating momentarily before grabbing his shoulder and ripping him off of the bloodied beat up guy.

"KATSUKI!"

His whole heavy sweating panting body whirled around and crashed into your arms, making you trip backwards on your feet and fall on your butt still holding him.

Very unlikely for him to be so ungraceful and fall with you like that, he would usually catch you and scold you for being clumsy. Out of habit you braced yourself for his scolding but it never came.

He started wheezing and gasping in your arms, unable to breathe, whatever air he had left in his lungs being forced out by the violent coughs that wracked through his whole body, his hands moving up to grasp at his throat squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

"F-fuck... h-hurts..." he wheezed out twisting in your lap as you watched him in terror.

"W-what's wrong? Holy shit! Katsu you're turning blue!"

You didn't know what took over you as your hands moved on their own accord, grabbing his jaw, forcing his mouth open and plunging your fingers down his throat. What you pulled out would haunt your nightmares for the rest of your life.

Bakugou started gasping in big gulps of air when you removed your hands from his face, but you couldn't see him anymore. You were staring at the thing that was previously clogging his airways. A whole, leaf, stem and flower petals between your fingers, dripping with fresh blood and saliva; mouth falling open and paling even more, if possible, at the sight.

Bakugou looked up once he could breathe again and couldn't help but whimper quietly at the thing you just pulled out of his own throat. The sound making your eyes snap back on him even more concerned than when he was choking. "What the fuck is this?!" You asked showing him the flower, as if either of you could ever forget about it, instinctively cupping his cheek and stroking it with your thumb. He looked surprised and you immediately realised your mistake pulling your hand away "sorry force of habit... but... answer me!"

Your touch was soothing to the ache in his damaged throat and he was so in pain already that he didn't care if he was going to sound pathetic or needy or clingy... or... sorry. He opened his mouth to tell you to put your hand back on him but instead of words he had to cough, fresh blood mixed with the sickly sweet scent of the flower spraying over both your clothes, making you panic again.

"I'll tell you later... just... give me a sec...please..." He whispered embarassed and grabbed your hand placing it back on his cheek, lowering himself down on his shaky arms and laying over your legs exhausted. His voice sounded so tired and broken that despite yourself, you chose to just let him have a moment for now without making him talk.

You stroked the back of his hand absent mindedly careful not to touch the busted knuckles, watching his sleeping face as he lay in the hospital bed. He looked terrible. Pale skin, bags under his eyes. You could swear he had also lost some weight. How long has he been coughing for? How much blood?His face twisted in pain and you jumped as he stirred with a cough, opening his eyes and staring at you blankly.

His eyes moved over your features in silence with a soft expression on his own face, watching your glistening bright eyes, wide with concern. The way your hair framed your face, your eye lashes making your eyes look even more beautiful, your lips pursed with worry. Then moving as you talked...? He was so concentrated he barely heard your voice.

"...- yeah?"

"Yeah..." he replied softly.

"Yeah?!"

His mind started to clear up more as he raised an eyebrow uncertainly "uh... no?"

You laughed at his weird behaviour and he smiled. He had missed it. Missed seeing it. Hearing you laugh.

"You weren't listening to me, were you?"

He offered an apologetic look "yeah...sorry."

You shook your head softly "nah it's fine, wasn't important."

He suddenly looked very serious "No. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said those things. I didn't mean any of them."

You stared at him blinking in confusion before realising what he meant. Bakugou was apologizing! You opened your mouth and closed it again, speechles. Clearing your throat you tried again.

"Yeah those really hurt..."

He could feel his heart drop as he looked at you wondering if it was actually over.

"I forgive you, stupid. Stop looking so pathetic." You rolled your eyes and grinned pinching his cheek.

"God I fucking love you so much... be mine again?"

You couldn't help blushing as you nod your head "you're such an asshole... but I can't help loving you either."

His eyes lit up, relief washing over him as he raised his hand cupping your cheek and bringing your head close, leaning in to kiss you.

"Wait! What was the deal with that flower-!"

"Shhh I'll tell you later...just..."

He looked down at your lips as he trailed off, licking his lips and pressing them against yours firmly.

And to this day, you still think he wanted to give you the flower and he chose the creepiest weirdest way to do it.

Nah just kidding.

He said he fell down and swallowed it by accident...

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #hanahaki #hanahaki bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #my hero academia #hanahaki disease #hanahaki Bakugou

268 notes · View notes

katsukikitten · 5 years ago

Text

Golden opportunity

A/N Hello lovies. This one is a bit more intense as I've been corrupted by Jo @lady-bakuhoe so enjoy some sub Bakugo with a delightfully hurtful twist. This is my first sub Bakugou work so I hope you enjoy.

WARNINGS: NSFW, 18+ AU/ Adult Au. Heavy Adult themes such as dub con and non con. Mentions of cheating. Imbalanced power dynamic.

Bakugo grinds his teeth to prevent himself from blasting the door off of its hinges, mad he let you slip through his fingers. Angry hands shoving the key into the knob before roughly shoving it open only to slam it shut.

"You make this too easy." Your voice rings out in the darkness of the apartment but burning red eyes find the source easily. He doesn't even bother flicking on the lights as his eyes adjust to see you sitting on the countertop of the island. Hand holding up a golden apple. He lunges for you, hands outstretched to strangle you to keep you quiet but you uncross your legs just in time to land a steel toed boot into his ribs. He slides back hitting the side table, he catches the lamp before it can crash, ears perked and eyes peering down the hall to the beds rooms.

"You know what happens when I take a bite don't you?" Your voice is a low hum in his ears, "I would hate to wake the new addition of the happy Bakugou family."

The threat competes with the rushing blood in his ears. Rage flowing hot in his veins as he watch you bring that deadly apple to those damn plump lips. His mind playing over the last time you had bitten into the apple of discord. One bite could cause the smallest of arguments in an instant, throwing even the most level headed team into chaos.

But two bites, two bites could end lives and random and three?

Well the last time you had taken three half of the city was swallowed whole by a swirling black portal.

A tremor runs through him to be so powerless.

"Eris…" Your villain name but not your true name leaves his lips. It never fails to cause a shiver down your spine. The gruffness to his very tone was enough to have you wanting more. It always had, especially the first time the two of you met. He pinned you against the brick, few fast enough or strong enough to do such a feat. You watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly, his crimson eyes raking over your body clad in a black skin tight suit with a zipper resting just below your collar bones. Your swift fingers yank it down to your navel.

His wedding band burns on his finger, each time he was forced to please you he had come to like it just a tad bit more. He swallows again as you jump from the counter with a sigh.

Going through the same song and dance was beginning to get so boring. He wanted you, it was so clear in the way that he watched you, in the way he was first on scene for your crimes no matter how far away and in the way he kissed you when asked.

So why did you have to threaten his family in order to get what you both want?

With ever step you took forward he took back until his sculpted back was pressed against the wall. Your hand wraps around his thick throat as you shove him further into the wall, the light switch bites into his shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise but he's had worse.

Why was he denying you? The thought alone had you seeing red as you're sure to make his vision blur. His still gloved hands gripping onto your forearm as your free hand travels just above the hem of his black hero pants before you shove it down his boxers to slowly stroke his thick length, coating him in his own precum.

His eyes flutter from the combined actions.

"Such a dirty boy huh?" You purr, he glares your way as he gasps out his response.

Trying so hard not to moan your name.

"You're the desperate slut forcing me." Your press your hand harder careful to avoid his larynx despite how badly you want to damage it now. Pressing until his grip on your arm begins to weaken, his breaths coming out as desperate pants as you increase the pace. He groans, unable to stop the buck of his hips into your touch.

"Am I really forcing you though?" Your honeyed voice in his ear prompts another illicit, breathy grunt as your apple blossom wine and bonfire scent smother his senses.

Fuck is all he can think as you relieve the ache of his cock, threatening to burst in your delicate deadly hands. His tell signs of coming are easy, flushed cheeks, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he fights it, before the lock onto you. You stop just in time, pulling harshly on his tight balls, he lets out a whine as you remove your hand from his throat.

"I didn't hear you ask permission to cum." You move the fabric of his hero shirt, stretching the collar to bite down on his shoulder, harshly sucking and nipping until you were satisfied. A set of red teeth marks and gorgeous black bruises adorn his shoulder. Another set he will have to somehow hide.

"Fuck. You." He snarls quietly, trying to push you away but your nails bite into his balls before you give them a tight squeeze. He gulps down air as he watches your ass sashay away. Stopping just before the couch to point with an expectant finger.

"Now." You bite impatient as ever as he reluctantly makes his way to the couch. Glancing down the hallway praying that the two of you are quiet enough.

Last time the both of you were almost caught, your mouth wrapped tightly around his length as he was forced to have a conversation with his sleepy wife. You being the devil that you are, had slid two arched digits into his ass at the wrong time. Almost getting the two of you caught.

He came in your mouth as he told his wife "I love you."

Again his wedding band burns along with his heart but nothing beats the burning in his loins.

He swallows thickly, hands popping as he removes his gloves.

"We could've done this when I saw you earlier tonight." He bites, attempting to take control as he towers over you, large hand wrapping around your throat. Making sure you see stars but you hold his glare, hardly ready to give power to him.

At least not until he stops lying to himself by thinking he could actually play house with a boring, quirkless woman. What a waste of his seed.

"Such a dirty boy. You would've rather fucked me in the dark alley?" You purr, breaking his hold with a jab at his arm before you shove him on the couch behind you.

"Would you have liked that better because you would have been able to scratch my back against that brick again? Was it the thought of being caught that made your cock so hard for me?" You straddle him to remove his shirt and marvel over your work. A mix of bruises and bites from past battles and previous fucks. You bring your mouth to his ear, pulling the lobe between your teeth.

"Or maybe it's because you got to yell out my name when you came." A shudder runs through his body, his cock aches and twitches at the memory.

Of you looking so fucked out as you finally allowed him a moment of dominance. Your tits bouncing as he roughly pounded into your sopping pussy at one in the morning in a dimly lit alley. The sound of bodies clashing and throaty moans echoing back to him before you held your half lidded gaze with his, your throat marked by him for once. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head as your thick frame quaked in his arms, cunt grabbing onto him for all he was worth.

He hated to admit but it was the best cum of his life. Fucking into your tight pussy as hard as he wanted.

Your name, your real name, leaving his lips and his knees weak.

He swallows guilt whole as you ease off of him yanking down his pants and boxers. His cock springs free causing you to lick your lips and fight the urge to rub your thighs together for some desperately needed friction. You slide out of your suit easily as you step forward, legs slightly apart as your eyes stare hard at the man before you with a silent command.

He sucks his teeth but does not disobey as he lets his fingers find your soaked folds. He growls, swirling calloused digits around your swollen bud. Waiting for those thick thighs to shake before he reaches around to grab a hand full of your ass. Pulling your delicious and heavenly naked body towards him. Your nails bite into his forearm as you glare down at him.

"Did I say you could touch my ass peasant?" You hiss, bending over to grab his jaw tightly.

He sneers, baring his teeth as he replies.

"I'm not the dirty slut who's been breaking into houses and threatening heros to fuck them, Princess." He keeps up his quick pace, wanting nothing more than for you to come undone by his hand, on his command for once. Waiting for your thighs to quiver beneath him but instead you shove his arm away before he can slink to your core.

Straddling him, purposefully shoving your tits in his face with a single command.

"Suck." You say humping his length but never slipping onto him, he growls with each stroke, teeth nipping at your perked nipples waiting for the familiar feel of your velvet walls.

The house settles making a creaking noise that has Bakugou's hands on your hips, his throat closing up as he strains to listen. You grab onto his face harshly, letting your thumb pull at his lower lip before shoving it into his mouth, deep enough that he gags.

"I didn't tell you to stop." He wants to bite your thumb clean off and relish over the coppery tang that would flood his taste buds. But instead he gives your thumb an obedient suck.

He pulls away with a lewd pop, one hand twisting a sensitive bud while the other sucks, all the while your clit slides delightfully over him rocking yourself through your first three orgasms of the night.

As the third washes over you, you plunge onto his weeping cock and he can feel your pussy convulsing over your last high. Making you almost uncomfortably tight but you felt so good and full. You grab onto the couch beside his head staring into his eyes as you growl.

"Don't you dare come, I don't plan to stop until I squirt all over what's mine." He swallows thickly and answers before thinking.

"Yes, Princess." You smirk, having finally gotten something trained into him before you start the violent roll of your hips. His cock hitting all the right spots, already making the coil in your stomach tight.

"Touch me." You moan and his hands begin to roam over your body finding your hips that grind on him, and squeezing your ribs.

You were so tiny in his large hands yet you held so much power over him. The thought made his dick twitch, squeezing harder to keep himself from pumping up into you, he groans relishing your tightness around his girth.

"F...fuck Katsuki." You cry out, coming undone again, fucking your self through another impossible high.

He sees it on your face, how desperate you are for another release and he wants so badly to help you keep good on your promise and squirt all over what belongs to you. He should feel guilty, he should feel angry and disgusted over your words but instead all he feels is undeniable pleasure.

To be honest the thought of his wife wasn't on his mind at all.

He could see only you, sitting atop your throne using him as a living dildo, fucking yourself to greater highs.

"Peasant, help out your Princess." He thrusts into you harshly, reminding you of his own power angling his hips to snap just right. His dick slides along that sinful spongy spot that has your vision blurring. Still you see the sweat on his brow as he is ready to chase his own release. Fighting to keep himself from painting your walls white. Movement in the hallway catches your eye, you smirk looking down to see his eyes fluttering as he looks up at you.

"Make me cum first. Then I want to hear you cum." You squeeze his throat, making it that much harder for him to focus on not busting. He goes feral, pounding up into you carelessly and loudly grunting as best he can through your steely grip. You take your free hand and harshly rub over your clit until he's threatening to spill. You hold eye contact with a figure in the dark before you look into a deep set of crimson eyes.

Throwing your head back as you grind your hips to meet his until you're moaning entirely too loudly, squirting onto your, fingers, his lap and his chest.

As you promised.

Your pulsing cunt grabs onto his throbbing cock so tightly that he cannot take it. He groans as his hips sloppily piston and stutter.

"F...fuck fuck. Eris…" Head falling onto the back of the couch as he fills you to the brim. Your name leaving his lips with a final thrust.

"Bakugou?" A shaky voice calls out, harsh light flooding the living room showcasing what he had avoided for almost a year.

His wedding band burns against this ring finger, a lie lodged in his throat as he sits covered in a mixture of your slick and his seed. He looks to you with wide, angry eyes. His hands burning the skin on your bare ribcage. You smile, leaning down to kiss his horrified and angry face.

"Another day my naughty peasant." You smile with delight, apple appearing in your hand. You take a large bite out of the golden flesh and disappear into thin air.

#Bakugou x reader #bakugou angst #non con #dub con #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou smut

619 notes · View notes

purplesunrisefanfic · 4 years ago

Text

A long-ass defence of the unsexy sex scene between Abby and Owen.

(No pictures of it are included here because gross)

So, at the risk of alienating pretty much everyone who follows me, I actually think **that** scene with Abby and O🤢🤢n is a worthwhile storytelling element, and I see why that scene was included but not a Dina/Ellie one. (Even though “I wish things were different.”)

With Dina/Ellie, they love each other, they have a fairly healthy relationship, they have chemistry. Everything that, story-wise, needs to be shown can be (and was) shown without needing a full sex scene. Yeah, I would really like to see a sex scene between them, for sure, but I can’t pretend that because I think there’s vital story elements hidden in there. Not at all because, let’s be honest, we KNOW they had great sex. No one who wants that scene wants it because they’re wondering if they had good sex or not, we want it because we wanna see some great sex.

You‘re not seriously doubting that I’m good in bed, are you?

I’m not dissing us for that, representation matters, and I think Neil made a HUGE error of judgement when he spoke about a sex scene in a context where we’d all assume it was Dina/Ellie. (And that was a moment of terrible judgment that I would be classing as queerbaiting has it not been for the SO FUCKING MUCH groundbreakingly excellent representation in Part 2. In this case, I think it was an example of how even when you work really hard at things you can still make mistakes, still be thoughtless to how much impact you can accidents have on a representation-starved group. And yeah, it’s not easy to let him off the hook for something that important to me, but I do think he’s done enough overall to earn an assumption of good faith here. Not least because I don’t really don’t think anyone’s purchase actually hinged on whether we saw a Dina/Ellie sex scene vs a make out scene and a well-developed queer relationship, and the whole point of queerbaiting is to manipulate us into buying or consuming things we otherwise wouldn’t.)

But to get back to the main point, I think it’s important to recognise that we don’t wish we’d had that scene because we feel like there’s something vital to the story that we don’t know for not seeing it. We have good reasons for wanting that scene, but thinking that we missed out on some vital characterisation, relationship or story elements isn’t one of them.

Now, the sex scene that we do see is very different. First thing I wanna say is that this isn’t a sex scene that only lesbians or people who dislike Owen find to be uncomfortable. I’ve seen some critiques where I feel like a gulf might have opened up with that. Where it’s maybe kinda of assumed that if you are into that type of sex and don’t hate Owen, then that’s an equivalent to the Dina/Ellie scene that we didn’t get, and it’s NOT. Dina and Ellie having sex for the first time is a situation that opens a door (a door which then walk through with them in other ways, such as the small moments of love and bonding that we see portrayed so beautifully) while Abby/Owen having sex for the last time is a scene about reaching a dead end. It’s about realising that the past is a dead end. It’s a scene that I’ve not seen anyone, even people who didn’t find it uncomfortable, describe as sexy.

Abby has dwelled on the past for four years. She trained herself up to kill Joel. She took no notice of what she was doing and who she was becoming in the present because all she thought about was the past. She ended up “top Scar killer” without really noticing (though that point is more my subjective opinion than the other points here, but I see no evidence she was proud or that or even really trying to achieve that). She killed kids and parents ruthlessly without paying any mind to her own morals or whether she even wanted to be a Wolf at all, because she was living in the past, getting whatever the job in the present was done without asking any questions because her head was never there. Everything she did as a Wolf was just a means to survive long to find Joel and be in a position to kill him when she did.

Eventually, as we know, she does find and kill Joel, and the experience doesn’t give her any of the closure she imagined. Her friendship groups fracture, her self-image is damaged, and she’s now both without closure and without purpose. But she still hasn’t quite figured out why. She hasn’t yet realised that dwelling on the past is the problem. Her ex is still in the picture, an ex that she lost “because of Joel” (in the sense that the main tensions we see in their relationship are linked to Abby’s dedication to revenge).

So caught up in revenge through 4 formative years of life, she’s not had the space to develop in ways she likely would have otherwise. She hasn’t moved past the idyllic childhood sweethearts idea, she’s not moved on to thinking about what she actually wants and needs in a partner. She’s not even noticed that her friends have moved on to more adult relationships, relationships where you might settle down with children, until she’s shocked into that realisation by the news that Mel is pregnant. (This is similar to a point Druckmann has made in an interview.)

Even then, the way she talks about suggests she’s still struggling with seeing the present clearly. She talks about it (especially to herself in Jackson) as if they are still teens, as they are 16ish and should have been more careful. There’s ample evidence, in my interpretation, that Abby’s ability to notice the present, to notice change, and to grow up herself has been near-stunted for the 4 years between Jerry’s death and Joel’s death.

So when she has sex with Owen, it’s another way of looking back. It’s another attempt to look for a future in her past, and I think that to really see and understand just how much she has tried to find a future in the past, and how much that has led her to betray her own values, betray her friends, and to be blinkered to the consequences of her own actions and how she finally realises all of this herself, we need to see the sex.

Because the sex is like the receipts. Like the death certificate for the long-overdue passing of her idea that her future can be made good by a fixation on the past.

Say they had had a shitty kiss instead. Well, that could be Owen holding back because he’s torn about Mel. They could be Abby holding back because she’s torn about Mel. If they do anything less than completely betray Mel, then there’s still room for Abby to believe that, if Mel were to suddenly never had existed or whatever, that her and Owen would be 16yo idyllic sweethearts forever.

So they have to totally betray Mel, they have to have clearly and totally disregarded her, for us (and for Abby) to see their relationship clearly. So it has to be sex. And for us to share in that process in Abby’s mind, the realisation that life has moved on, the realisation that her love for him is based on assuming nothing much has changed in 4 years when it has, the realisation that the past is dead end, we have to be with her for that.

Then we can see how she’s gotten to where she is and how she finally realises that there’s nothing that the past can give her. And then, she’s finally ready to see the present for what it is. She’s finally ready to see that what she does in the present matters, that she can chose whether or not two children live or die, and that she should focus on that. She’s ready to see that Owen was a guy she loved 4 years ago, not a guy she loves today. She’s ready to “Let It Go!(sorry, couldn’t resist!). She’s ready to question whether she’s actually this person who wants to be “top Scar killer.” We’re able to see just how much of herself has been lost on her revenge journey, how she can get on a better path, and why we think she’s worth having that chance. I don’t think that story could come together so richly without the visceral discomfort and the layered realisations that seeing her having (imo terrible, some folks have gone as far as “mediocre” and I’ve genuinely seen no-one rate it any higher) sex with Owen.

Abby: I’d rather watch 10 live amputations and have my own arm amputated than ever have sex with Owen again. In fact, I’d struggle to choose between sex with him and sex with the Rat King at this point.

Yara: I think you should try your luck with fucking the Rat King, can’t be any worse, can it?

Side point: This argument also touches on why I don’t believe that Abby is categorically canonically straight, because her whole arc relies on her being too stuck in the past to consider who she’s actually attracted to in the present. Normally, it’s kinda on the people making the media to show us queerness and not expect us to be satisfied that “well, they could be bisexual because we’ve never said they aren’t,” but I think TLOU does enough in terms of active representation to merit an exception, especially when there’s a strong storytelling reason why we never see anything of what she’s into beyond her childhood sweetheart. (I’m not saying she’s def bi, just that I think saying she’s canonically straight is dicey and that, unlike with almost any other form of media where I’m with y’all in the “straight until otherwise proven” approach, with Abby specifically I find it does give me some of the bi erasure feels that I get all the time irl when people describe her as canonically straight.)

I’m gonna pick Lev up from Scar Island, then find myself a hot woman who likes big arms, boats, and my precious adopted children.

#tlou #abby anderson #the last of us #tlou2 #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 spoilers #spoilers #discussion #opinion #my thoughts

134 notes · View notes

thgfanficinspo · 4 years ago

Text

Fear of the Water - 20

Annie meets the other victors from District 4

From the Start - Jonsa - Coryo

(ANNIE)

There are nice clothes in my closet but I don’t want to wear them because I know they’re from the Capitol. And I’m not in the Capitol anymore and I don’t want it on me I don’t want it hanging off my skin.

I find one of my everyday dresses that Bosun brought along to the new house and slip it on. I always wear big shapeless dresses that go to my knees. I like them because they don’t get in my way – I can run around or work or sleep or do anything without them causing me any trouble. They’re long enough that I don’t have to worry about people seeing too much if I crouch or bend or climb, and the materials are simple and comfortable, and the fact that they’re so loose means I don’t have to keep adjusting them like I would with regular dresses. And I like that they’re dresses, too. Pants always trip me up, and I don’t like worrying about two different pieces of clothing when I can just wear one.

I don’t like being in this new bedroom, at least not yet. I don’t like being in this house. It’s too big. Too many rooms. Creaky floorboards and rusty door hinges. Too many places for something to hide.

I change as fast as I can and then run back downstairs. Bosun is pacing in a circle around the main room. He glances up at me. “Get changed; we’re gonna be late.”

I shake my head.

He opens his mouth and curls his lip like always does when he’s about to yell at me but he makes himself stop and take a deep breath to calm down because I think he knows he shouldn’t yell at me, at least not yet. He’s trying to wait a couple days to let me settle in before he starts up again. I hope he doesn’t start up again at all.

When things are good with Bosun, they’re great. It’s like we’re the only people in the world and we’re everything to each other. But then when I start counting things or get “stuck in a loop,” as he says, he gets annoyed and tells me to stop even though he knows I can’t. if I stop it feels like a million tiny ants covering every bit of my skin and I can’t move or do anything until I’ve finished counting.

He raises his eyebrows at me in some sort of prompt. “Ready?”

There are three big dogs in front of Mags’s porch that stare at us as we approach. I think of the dogs in the arena and start to pull away from Bosun, but he holds onto me. “They’re just dogs,” he says. “You can’t be afraid of dogs forever.”

Mags appears in the doorway. “Annie! Bosun!” She waves her hand at the dogs and they disperse. “Ignore them. They hang around wherever they think they can get food. They’re harmless.”

All the homes on Victor’s Isle follow a formula, but there are subtle differences in each. My new house seems to have less walls than Mags’s. Hers is artfully decorated and looks comforting and warm. She’s had almost sixty years to work on it.

“The others are already inside. I don’t think Eefa will make it, though. She’s not one for socializing.”

The others, including Broadsea.

Broadsea. He was a member of the Career pack during his Games. He betrayed them relatively early on – probably because he didn’t like working with other people and he didn’t want them out there working against him. Broadsea was on watch one night while his allies slept. He killed them each, one by one, by slitting their throats or stabbing them through the heart.

One of them managed to get a knife and hack his face apart before dying.

I’m still lost in my thoughts when we find him in the kitchen.

“Annie, Bosun, this is Broadsea.”

And there he is – arms crossed over his enormous chest. He’s well over six feet and at least two inches taller than Finnick, who’s already taller than six feet, too. The best word I can think to describe him is sturdy. He looks like he could stand in one spot during a tidal wave and not even notice it crashing over him. He has hazel eyes and his jaw is strong and square and half his face is hardly a face at all.

That scar – it’s one thing to see on television, but completely different in person. He had some medicine to treat the wound, but not enough. The wound was infected. He did a piecemeal job of stitching it back together with threads pulled from his fallen allies’ clothing.

They cleaned it up as best they could in the Capitol, even removed some tissue and tried to build him a new cheek artificially, but it didn’t work. I still can’t believe he survived such a thing. Now it’s as wide as a finger from his right cheekbone to his jaw, where it dips under his chin and stretches down almost onto his neck. Ghostly pale against his coffee-colored skin. He grew a beard to partially cover it, but no hair grows over the corrupted flesh, so it just makes it stand out even more.

Not to mention the fingertips and toes he lost to frostbite. And the tip of his nose. But those have all been patched up.

He gives of us each a good up and down look before turning away without a word.

Proteus turns away from the stove to greet us and I feel a little bit better because Proteus is not scary or mean and I sort of know him. “Ah, I’m glad you’re here. I wanted your opinion on the sauce I made for the duck before I serve it.” He gives me and Bosun each a little spoonful of orangey-brown stuff. Bosun takes a lick and offers his compliments.

Finnick strolls in as we taste, completely ignoring Broadsea even though they’re about to walk right into each other. He stops for a moment and shoots him a mocking smile before he steps aside to let him through. Broadsea keeps on walking, knocking back another glass of liquor as he makes his way to the sitting room. Finnick is bright again as soon as Broadsea gone. “Do I get a sample?” he asks, flashing that winning smile.

He was fourteen when he was in my place. A child. But he doesn’t look like a child anymore. He was never exactly childlike, though; in the arena he was handsome and young with a chiseled face and sparkling eyes, his cheeks always flushed from being outside. He was gorgeous, and everyone was impatient to watch him grow up and therefor more handsome. And so they could touch him. So he could touch them.

I still don’t understand that – why he wants to jump from bed to bed. Surely the gifts they give him can’t be worth all the trouble. Is he just bored? Or is sex really that good? Having someone flop around and sweat all over you doesn’t sound terribly appealing to me, even with someone like Finnick.

Finnick pulls me out of my mind when he sidles up next to me. “I see you met Broadsea,” he murmurs. He produces a handful of sugar cubes seemingly out of nowhere, pops some in his mouth, and stars crunching away. He speaks through the mouthful: “Don’t feel bad – he hardly ever talks. And he’s an asshole anyway.” He realizes something. “Oh, do you want some candy or sugar or something? I keep a stash in the pantry. Mags thinks it’s bad for me, but I’m nineteen, so what I eat doesn’t really matter.”

If only he knew what it was like to be a woman.

“You might as well sit down,” Proteus says to us over his shoulder. “I’m almost ready to serve.”

Proteus’s wife, Brona, is already seated at the oval dining table, which is made of reclaimed wood.

Her clear, smooth skin is the color of honey and almonds, and she keeps her dark hair tied behind her head in a tight bun that pulls the skin on her forehead taut. Her mouth and teeth are big, but they fit better with her face than my big mouth and teeth fit with mine. She introduces herself and shakes Bosun’s hand. She doesn’t try to shake mine; somebody probably warned her about it.

I wonder how hard it must be for her and Proteus, to be separated from your love for the whole summer. Assuming they love each other.

It surprises me that so many victors have families – about a third of them, I think – but the fact that any of them has one is surprising. Any one of us, now.

Eefa got married at nineteen – a normal age in the districts but unbelievably young for the Capitol – and had two children, but she only speaks to one of them now. Proteus is married, of course, which honestly seems odd to me. He and Brona appear more like friends than lovers, but even friends might be too intimate a term. They don’t have children. On television, they always show Proteus next to a victor from District 5 who won a few years after him – the 55th Games, I think. He actually shows genuine fondness for the man; that’s obvious even through a televisions screen.

I wonder if Brona knows about this man. She seems very cold so I don’t know if she’d care.

We sit down and tuck in to eat. Finnick pulls out Mags’s chair and then mine and pushes them both in for us. He takes the chair between us and smiles at me as he settles in and my ears get red. Bosun is on my other side. Broadsea is directly across from me. I try not to look at him.

Proteus brings out a thick orange soup as our first course. He tells us what it’s made from but I don’t pay attention since the smell is so distracting. I start eating before everyone’s been served, which I think is rude but I don’t care. I slurp down two bowls and a fist-sized loaf of bread before anyone else finishes their first serving. I don’t care enough to look up at them or excuse myself.

I didn’t really eat today. Our kitchen isn’t stocked yet but I found some nuts and hid them in my pocket because I forget that there will be more food and that I don’t have to be hungry anymore ever. I haven’t counted them yet.

Bosun keeps looking back and forth from me to the other victors – trying to gauge my reactions to them and their reactions to me. He looks like he’s ready to leap across the table if he has to, though I don’t know why he would. He’s too smart to tangle with a victor. And he doesn’t even get into arguments with people he’s not related to. But he’s plenty argumentative with me and our cousins and Chelsea and me and me and me.

Broadsea observes me throughout the first course, which takes about half an hour for everyone to finish. He looks at me like some new trinket – strange and intriguing and more than anything else, a source of amusement. He’s continually eating hunks of bread which he tears from the rolls with his stumpy fingers (they had to amputate four fingertips above the knuckle after he won due to frostbite) and dips them in the soup. For every mouthful of bread he tears some off and puts it in his pocket. Maybe he forgets, too. About not being hungry anymore.

Finnick watches me too, but in a much softer way. His pretty green eyes are warm where his gaze touches my skin. He smiles whenever I do, and he’s quick with a story whenever there’s a lull in conversation.

Proteus brings out the main course, which is made with duck rather than fish. People in District 4 get sick all the time from eating too much fish, so duck is a usual substitute, since that’s really the only other animal around except for seagulls. Duck is fancier than seagull. More expensive. But I guess that’s not a big deal since victors have so much money and we don’t ever have to be hungry anymore.

It’s served with turnips and Katniss root.

When I see it on the platter my stomach starts to roll over itself. My hands are shaking.

“Annie?”

I don’t know who says it. I don’t know who they’re saying it to.

I stand up fast, knocking my chair over and then tripping on it as I try to get away. I can’t be here. They’ll kill me to get my food. They’ll kill me for still being alive. I have to get away or they’ll kill me like they killed Piers and I don’t want to die but my legs aren’t working so I have to drag myself across the floor I can’t breathe.

“Annie! Annie!” It’s many voices now. They’re behind me, above me, closing in on me and I can’t breathe. I scoot back until my back slams against the wall. Put my hands over my ears so I can’t hear the mutts eating the boy from 6 or Piers screaming while they saw through him.

Bosun’s face is right in front of mine, saying “Annie? Annie?”

He’s not supposed to be here. His name wasn’t drawn. Why is he here? Why isn’t he home? They’ll cut his head off and they’ll poke out his eyes I’ll poke out his eyes and get goop on my hands and I can’t wipe it off.

“Run!” I scream at him. “Bosun, run! Run!”

And all the voices start screaming “Annie!” too loud and I don’t like it.

I try to shuffle further back but my head hits the wall and it goes dark.

6 notes · View notes

sheerfreesia007 · 5 years ago

Text

Fallin’ All In You (Pt. 15)

Title: Fallin’ All In You (Pt. 15)

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007

Words: 1,797

Tags: @cosmo-bear, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @randomness501

Author Notes: Oh these two idiots, they’re gonna be dumb for a little bit here before we get back to the fluff. This is going to be a little 4 part arc in the series. This is my theory on why Whiskey keeps voting no on Ginger Ale and the next part will explain my theory on why Ginger Ale says that Whiskey doesn’t know how to please a woman in the movie. Thank you for reading!

Gif credit: @pariztexas

You couldn’t believe him. How could he do this again?! The anger that was rushing through you was a little concerning to you as you paced outside the conference room. You were waiting for him outside hoping to catch him before he went back to his office. Your eyes were trained on the floor because you felt that if you looked at anyone right now they’d see the fire burning within and didn’t think anyone would survive it.

Just then the door to the conference room opened and you watched as Jack walked out of the room. He had a deep scowl on his face and when he looked up and noticed you it only deepened.

“Not now darlin’.” He warned firmly but you didn’t heed it. You shook your head and stepped closer to him.

“We need to talk.” You hissed letting a little bit of your anger escape in those words. He shook his head and glared at you with such an ugly look that it almost took you back. He’d never been this angry around you, usually he was all soft and warm. But not today.

“Not now.” He said for a second time and continued to glare at you.

“Either we talk now right here in front of everyone or we go to your office.” You demanded firmly in a low hiss. You were so mad that you felt your whole body tensing. Jack sighed angrily and gripped your bicep in a tight grip.

“Fine, have yer way.” He growled lowly to you as he dragged you down the hallway towards his office. The trip didn’t take that long and soon he was yanking the door open and shoving you inside. You stumbled into the room but quickly caught yourself as you whirled around to face him. He was glowering at you darkly. “Alright darlin’ let’s have it out now.” He said menacingly and you faltered slightly. “No, no let’s hear it.” He taunted.

“How could you vote no on Ginger again Jack?” you asked scornfully as you crossed your arms over your chest defensively. “She’s passed all of her training to become a field agent and she’s ready.” You bemoaned to him furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “She’s been trying to become a field agent for ages and every time you’re the only no vote she receives. I just don’t understand why you won’t give her a shot? Is it because she’s a woman? Because that’s ridiculous. Or is it because she’s a lab rat? Because I used to be one and I’m a field agent.” You reasoned as you tried to understand his motives for voting against Ginger again. During your diatribe against him you hadn’t noticed him advancing towards you in anger.

When you looked up to look at him you were taken aback by how close he had gotten without you knowing. You almost flinched but you stopped yourself you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction to see you affected by his anger.

“Don’t be stupid.” He scolded angrily and you felt your cheeks heat in embarrassment at his words. He was talking to you as if you were a stupid child and you didn’t like it at all. You opened your mouth to retort but he held up a finger warningly as he glared at you. “Oh no darlin’.” You stated mockingly. “I gave you your time to speak so you’re gonna stand there and listen now.” He lectured and you glowered at him with a sneer curling your upper lip. “I know women can do this job. Hell I voted you in didn’t I? Not to mention there are so many other women in this agency that I voted in because I knew they were capable of the job.” He admonished as if he thought your reasoning was absurd. “No it’s not because she’s a woman it’s because she can’t do the job.” He explained heatedly.

Jack had begun to pace around his office throwing his hands out in angry gestures during his lecture and you glared at him as he moved about the room with purposeful steps. You could feel the harsh fire of the blush on your cheeks intensive as you took in his words. He was still talking to you as if you were thoughtless and it was starting to really ruffle your feathers.

“What do you mean she can’t do the job?” you asked testily still confused how he could believe Ginger wouldn’t be able to do the job. She had after all passed all of her training to be a field agent, and she had passed with high marks. With your petulant question voiced out Jack has rounded back at you and you saw the furrowed eyebrows he wore. His anger was showcased on his face easily and you were surprised that it had taken this long for you to see it.

“I mean she can’t do the job.” Jack repeated and your confusion fueled your anger and you ranted out against him.

“You’ve said that Jack.” Came the petulant remark from you and Jack’s eyes hardened as they glowered at you angrily. He moved close to you and seethed. You could see his chest was raising and falling rapidly in anger.

“Shut yer mouth and listen.” He hissed in a callous tone that shocked you to your core. “If you would just listen you’d understand.” He bit out furiously as he loomed over you. Inside you were faltering and felt yourself crumbling under the anger that presented so easily. But on the outside you held your ground and kept your arms crossed over your chest tightly and scowled up at him gritting your teeth. “She didn’t score high on all of her training darlin’.” He mocked heatedly as he turned and took a few steps away from you. “Her physical training was just passing. Not to mention her psychological training. She doesn't have the ruthlessness that’s needed in a Statesman agent.” He said firmly still glaring at you heatedly.

You watched as he moved over to his desk and sat down in his office chair with a huff. He pulled his Stetson from his head and ran a hand through his hair frustrated. Placing his Stetson down on the edge of his desk he waved a hand over in your general direction and didn’t bother looking up at you.

“She won’t have her partners back out in the field. She’s too soft and would roll over on Statesman easier than you breathe in air.” He mocked irritably. “She can’t be trusted to be able to get herself and her partner out of a situation.”

“That’s not for you to decide about her.” You argued firmly. You could see what Jack was saying, he had seen the training logs that Ginger had in her file but he wasn’t an expert on psychology so you didn’t feel as if he had a leg to stand on in this argument.

“I’ve seen enough in life to know when someone will have my back and when someone will turn tail at the sight of trouble.” He said grimly and still didn’t look up at you as he spoke. You glared at him hating the feeling of being so casually dismissed by him.

“Well that’s why training is as rigorous as it is.” You reasoned easily and began pacing. “If she’s not up to the task the training would be able to show that. And the other senior agents on the committee would be voting no on her also.” You rationalized logically and turned to him. “I get it you’ve seen some shit Jack but you’re the only one who’s voting no on her. The only one. What do you have against Ginger?” you asked defensively and planted yourself in front of his desk and crossed your arms over your chest. The anger had quickly seeped out of your body and suddenly you felt tired and desolate. If the way Jack was acting towards was any way to go about it he had given up on your reasons in this fight and only saw himself as being right.

“I don’t have anything against Ginger.” He dismissed so easily and waved a hand over towards you again without out looking up. Instantly your hackles were up again and you felt the anger simmering just under the surface yet again. “She can’t do the job end of story. And if I have to I’ll keep voting no on her until someone else gets it. Understand?” he finished darkly and looked up at you with such an ugly and ominous glare that it took the breath from your lungs. “Now if you don’t mind darlin’. But I’ve got some work I’ve got to get through.” He sneered condescendingly. “Why don’t you go lollygag with Tequila? You’re good at that.”

The words hit you directly and you felt your chest constrict. Is that what he really thought about you? That you didn’t pull your own weight? Fury engulfed your body so wholly that your fist clenched tightly at your sides and you whirled around on your heel. Your teeth gritted as you nearly ripped the office door off its hinges and rushed out slamming the door loudly not bothering to look back at the man who had just stomped on your heart in his office.

The sound of the door slamming shut broke through the wrathful fog that had settled over him during your fight and Jack looked up. He was surprised to see that you were no longer standing in the middle of his office. Suddenly the last words he spoke out to you in anger came back to him and he grimaced deeply. Slumping in his chair he ran a hand over his face in remorse.

He knew he needed to apologize to you. You didn’t deserve his ire directed at you, yes you had been angry at him also but there was a better way to go about explaining himself to you other than in anger. Also the words he used with you were ugly and nothing like himself. He was just so angered by the ignorance of the rest of the senior agents. He knew that Ginger Ale wouldn’t be able to safeguard her partner’s wellbeing on a mission. He was sure of it and didn’t trust the woman to be unmerciful enough to get the job done.

Looking down at the paperwork he had been pretending to be working on during your fight he sighed deeply. He had to get these reports done before the end of the day. Figuring he would give you some time to cool off before he sought you out to apologize Jack got back to work and started on his reports.

#fallin' all in you #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #my writing #kingsman the golden circle

48 notes · View notes

akitokihojo · 5 years ago

Text

Enchanted - Part 2

Inuyasha was easily growing distracted by just the thought of her. He was being scolded for the work he had building up, his mind out the window and over the walls of his grounds. Sometimes, the urge to see her became too overwhelming, so he found himself sneaking out in the dead of night. Not every time did he find her, and to be honest, he was grateful for that. He recognized very quickly that he didn't like her out late on her own, and the few times that he did run into her, whether it be collecting specific herbs that thrived in the evening or walking home from some sort of medicinal delivery, he wasn't able to bite back the frustration that developed. He'd offer to walk her home, she'd respectfully decline, then he'd begrudgingly walk her home anyway. Her only excuse was ever, "It can't be helped." After a few times, despite his incessant lecturing of the dangers, he noticed her smiling from the corner of his eye, almost appearing comfortable with their walks. He’d put up a front for the sake of his argument, but inevitably softened from her warmth.

Seeing her was like a dosage of medicine, and when he went days without, he craved the satiation she provided. He knew he needed to be serious about things. He had responsibilities, and he couldn't afford to tip anyone off that he'd been sneaking out. Miroku would have his head, and if word got to the king, hell would open up and swallow him whole. The prince was falling behind, becoming sloppy, so he pushed himself to focus. If he went a specific amount of days without jumping the wall, if he caught up with the pile of paperwork on his desk, and didn't lose form during combat training, he'd allow himself a few hours outside as a reward. Of course, he'd take the woodland route. If he was spotted, especially at night, he was done for. If his name or title was risked to be heard, his cover was blown.

Inuyasha obviously didn't know what he wanted. He couldn't be Koga forever, and quite frankly, personally knowing the actual owner of the name, he should have chosen wiser. It was a moment of anonymity, and he grasped for it. Now there was a part of him that wished she knew him. Really knew him; who he was, his favorites, his dislikes. But then what? What did he want to come of that? How would she react to his blatant lie? It was too soon to tell, but in that regard he had to ask himself, how long could he get away with this?

"From the fort, Your Highness." A messenger entered, holding out a sealed envelope for Inuyasha to take. Without hesitation, the prince opened the message, reading it thoroughly.

"What is it?" Sango asked, noticing the deep crinkle in his brow.

"They were attacked." Inuyasha responded, the words clenched in his throat. "They fended whoever it was off, but troops were hurt."

"Any casualties?" Miroku apprehensively inquired, the tension heavy in the air.

"It's not stated."

"And the attacker?"

"They don't know. They were snuck up on." The prince had yet to peel his eyes from the paper in his hands, reading it twice over before looking to the messenger standing at the door. "Get word to them that we're on our way."

The messenger bowed, doing a stiff one-eighty before hastily heading out. Inuyasha turned to his aides, both of them awaiting their instructions.

"I want three more men to come along with us. Have the horses readied, we're leaving in an hour."

"Wait. Inuyasha, what do you think this means?" Miroku stepped forward, indigo eyes steady.

"We won't know that until we see the damage for ourselves. Most importantly, my soldiers are hurt. If we are under attack, we can't expect them to be a formidable line of defense if we don't tend to whatever they may need. I want Koga as one of our troops, I trust you to choose the other two."

"Understood."

"Sango, make sure we have additional supplies, including food. I don't have word on their rations and I won't have anyone skipping meals."

"Understood." She nodded.

"What about a medic? Should we call for Kaede?" Miroku asked.

"No, she needs to be here for Rin. We'll bring Totosai to help the fort's medic tend to the injured."

"I'll send for him now."

"I'll meet you in an hour." Inuyasha said, eyes shifting out the window. He heard the stomp of Sango and Miroku's boots as they left him to do as they were instructed, and it wasn't until the noise had completely faded when he swiftly turned on his heal and headed out the back way.

He wanted to tell her. Chances were strong that he'd be gone for a minimum of two weeks, considering the time it took to travel there in the first place. Inuyasha felt more comfortable with the idea of her knowing he had to leave. Maybe she'd be a little more cautious while he was away and consciously make sure she was home around the time it got dark. At the very least, she could manage that during the span where he couldn't make sure she was safe, himself.

It was broad daylight, but he knew his path around the wall of the grounds well. The concealment of darkness made it easier, but it wasn't impossible to sneak by while it was still busy out. Once his boots collided with the soft earth of the forest floor just outside, he got running. He had little time to waste, and could only hope she was near Kaede's shop or in the small cabin out back that she’d claimed as her own. As he approached, he slowed, allowing his enhanced senses to take over, finding her sweet scent leading him towards the herbalist's doors. Just as well, Kaede's scent was powerful too. They were in there together.

His muscles gradually grew more rigid with each step. He wondered if Kaede could take a hint as easily as his aides had come to understand him, the direct look of his eyes bringing them to immediately follow his lead in whatever scenario. She was a smart woman, highly intuitive. Having seen too much in her age, she was willing to do whatever to keep the peace and spread compassion. Could he trust her not to say anything if he signaled for her to keep quiet, or would she speak too soon for him to catch her?

With no more time to contemplate, the prince grasped the knob of the door to the shop, slowly twisting it open, ignoring the unsettling feeling in his abdomen. Behind the counter, he saw Kagome, her nose close to a book as she silently lipped what it read, the petals of a plant held loosely in her right palm. There was no squeak to the hinge of the door, so when she finally noticed him standing there, she perked up, a soft smile greeting him. Quickly, the prince pressed a finger to his lips, ember eyes briefly glancing at the elderly woman sitting near the fire at the side of the room. Her back was facing him as she worked to grind medicine in a bowl, completely unaware of him standing in the doorway. As he glanced back at Kagome again, he gestured for her to follow him outside with a flick of his head. Her brows had furrowed slightly, perplexity written in the downward curve of her lips, but she didn't hesitate to do as he asked. She curved around the counter, the apothecary not even bothering to look up as she passed, and followed him out into the small field, shutting the door behind her.

"Hey." Inuyasha breathed.

“Hi.” Kagome half expected him to fill the silence; it seemed he had a lot to say, yet in that moment his lips were sealed and eyes unsure. “Is - uh - is everything okay?”

It was like his brain had become foggy. Why was he here? Why was he so set on her knowing he had to leave? Interestingly enough, whatever nerves that had built from the message he’d received from the fort at the border of their country was beginning to dwindle away. The longer he stood there in her presence, the calmer he felt.

He was losing his damn mind.

“I’m not sure yet.” The prince answered, running his fingers back through his hair as he tried to clear his thought process. “But I have to leave. On a mission. With the prince.”

“Oh.” Was the only thing she could manage to say for a moment, her body stiffening moderately. "Did you need some -"

"N-no. I didn't come here for anything. I just wanted you to know."

"Okay." She gave a slow nod, one that grew as the comprehension sank in. She couldn't help the awkwardness that was gradually building, decidedly passing the petals she still had in her hand from one palm to the other in an attempt to keep herself somewhat rooted. "Is it dangerous?"

"You never know with these sort of things. The potentials there."

"Be safe, then."

Inuyasha was the one to nod this time, uncertainty filling him like trickling liquid as he continued to question his initial purpose for coming. As he turned on his heel, he felt a little idiotic. There was no plan in the first place, he could finally see that. He'd just given himself a cheap excuse to see her before not being able to for an undetermined period of time. That was it. And now he was walking away prematurely, the realization of just how hopeless he was steadily replacing the uncertainty. Ironically, he liked the feeling. It was new. It held promise.

Suddenly antsy from the distance, the prince swung back around, marching back toward the girl with intention. "For the love of god, would you please try to be home before dark?"

"Oh, I knew it! I knew that wasn't all!"

"I don't think I'm asking for much here!"

"You know, I've been doing this a lot longer than you think, and I've carried my own pretty well!"

"That doesn't mean it has to keep happening! Would you just shut up and listen to me for once?"

"It has to be done, Koga!"

"But why does it have to be done then? Why not the next morning?"

"Because Kaede has a lot on her plate being the main pharmacist for an entire town, and with her weekly - sometimes multiple times a week - appointments with the princess! She's too old to carry the weight of this all on her own! Besides that, some people are too sick to even get out of bed! It has to be brought to them, and I don't mind being the one to do that!"

He huffed, the sound gruff and long as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, can you just do this for me while I'm away?"

"You act like you walk me home every night." Kagome rolled her eyes.

"Just -" Inuyasha groaned, simultaneously frustrated and amused. "Please?"

She pause, fighting a smile. She could see the fire in his eyes. Though there was a hint of venom in his tone, his expression lacked the depth to convince her of anything. He was serious, she could tell that much, but he wasn't quite as flustered as he was letting off. "I'll be fine."

"Kagome."

"I promise." She gently assured. "I've got a heck of an arm."

"Tiny arms." The prince mumbled.

"Keep saying that and I'll show you." She warned.

He chuckled, once more running his fingers through his short, untidy hair. "Just be in one piece when I get back."

As he walked away, Kagome felt a tickling flutter within her belly. From her angle, she could still see the upturn of his lips, swelling the feeling. Her cheeks grew warm, and she finally gave in to the smile, calling out for him. He stopped, looking over his shoulder, bright eyes patiently waiting.

"One condition." She began.

"What's that?"

"You have to be in one piece, too."

Without thought, Inuyasha walked back her way, a finger delicately smoothing over the loose hair that framed her face, pushing it behind her ear. "I'll do my best."

Three weeks later

Inuyasha slowed his horse by pulling on the reigns, the steeds of his soldiers' bobbing back and forth nearby as they were welcomed back in the main courtyard by countless smiling faces. It had been a long journey, longer than intended but necessary once he recognized the damage done to his fort and his men.

The prince stepped down to the ground, giving his companion for the venture a pat of appreciation, smoothing over her hair as a handler came to retrieve the reigns from him.

"How was the trip, Your Highness?"

"It was good. Worth it. Thank you." He smiled, giving his mare another pet. "Take good care of her tonight, she deserves the break."

"Of course."

"Uncle!" A high-pitched shout caught his undivided attention, and Inuyasha spun around, pushing his cloak out of the way so he could kneel and catch his young niece running straight at him. Happily, he lifted the little girl up in his arms, holding her close for a long-overdo and very needed hug. "I've missed you!"

"How's it been, kid? You been wreaking havoc in my place like I told you to?"

"You bet! Mama says she much prefers your havoc, because it isn't her problem!"

Inuyasha laughed, not doubting those exact words had come from the queen.

"Papa says he wants to see you as soon as you're back."

"Well, you tell your papa I'll see him once I'm good and ready."

"I'm eight, I'm not stupid." Rin deadpanned, hands resting on Inuyasha's shoulders while he held her at his waist. "I think I've done enough of your dirty work for a while."

"Alright, alright." He drawled, playfully rolling his ember eyes. "I'll go."

"Oh! Can I come with you?" She excitedly bounced in his hold, legs kicking away from his body.

"You can walk me there, but you can't stay."

"Can I announce you?"

"I don't need an announcement." He said, beginning the trek toward the castle, not yet putting the princess down.

"But you could have one if I do it!"

"Alright, but you have to do it perfectly? Just like we practiced."

He placed his niece's feet on the floor just as they reached the inside of the doors, the little girl immediately grabbing his hand and eagerly guiding him toward the king's study. A guard stood outside, opening the door at Inuyasha's nod.

Rin straightened just outside the door, marching in as if she, herself, were a knight, pink dress twirling out as she spun to the right to face her father. "Your Majesty, His Royal Highness Uncle Inuyasha."

Inuyasha dropped his head defeatedly. It wasn't quite how they'd practiced, and he had to stifle his laughter as he imagined his brother's all too unamused face. Composing himself slightly, he entered, nonchalantly holding out his hand for Rin to high-five on her way passed.

"I wish you'd quit teaching her these things." Sesshomaru sighed, closing the book he was reading. The guard shut the door, providing a puff of hair to rustle the king's groomed hair.

"Don't lie, that was cute as hell. You're just devoid of showing any sort of joy." Inuyasha sneered, standing in place in the center of the study.

His brother barely grinned, shaking his head as he crossed the room to greet the prince, grasping his hand and clapping his shoulder with the other.

"What news do you bring?"

"Twelve injured, no deaths. The damage is reparable, and was almost completed by the time we left. Whoever the enemy was had their faces covered, and came from the Northeast, but still no clear indication on who they were. It could have been worse, though."

"Could have been better." The king walked back towards his desk, his straight expression returning as if it'd never left.

"Sesshomaru, they -"

"Were snuck up on. Which means they were not paying attention. Which means they could have failed the kingdom entirely and allowed an attack on our country."

"They fought them off! They won! The fact that someone attempted something in the first place is what we should be worried about!"

"We can only worry so much about what we can't control."

"Funny, coming from someone who tries to control everything." Inuyasha challenged.

"You will bite your tongue, younger brother." Sesshomaru demanded, the venom in his tone all that was necessary to cause the prince to stiffen and silence. "Were your soldiers punished?"

"Twelve were injured, and they're working overtime to repair the fort. I could see the guilt in their eyes. Don't you think that's punishment enough?"

"Will guilt save our kingdom from an invasion?"

Inuyasha didn't answer, swallowing thickly, eyes wavering and dropping from the contact he held with his brother's.

"No. They will undergo more training. Apparently, they need a refresher course on the concept of standing post. If you want to keep these men under your jurisdiction, Inuyasha, I suggest you send out a general. At your earliest convenience, of course." The king cocked a brow, obviously challenging the prince.

Inuyasha clenched his fists, biting back his swelling temper as he nodded curtly. "I understand."

"You're dismissed."

"What about the attackers?"

"I will figure that out."

"I should be involved."

"It was most likely a warning, Inuyasha." Sesshomaru answered directly.

"A warning for what? Isn't that something we should discuss?"

"Is it?" The king stepped inward, a fire growing in his slanted eyes. "What did you find during your investigation? Any kingdom symbols or clues of any sort? Who do you suspect? You have nothing to report back to me, and therefore you are dismissed!"

Inuyasha didn't move, his nails pinching into his palms as his fists bunched even tighter. He clenched his jaw shut, controlling his anger to subside so he wouldn't say anything regrettable. His older brother was insufferable sometimes. He looked down on him, often times telling him he was too soft and therefore fell short of what was expected of him. Sesshomaru knew how to manipulate things to work in his favor. He was intelligent and strong-willed, Inuyasha wouldn't be the first to recognize that. It made Sesshomaru a good leader. With that being acknowledged, Inuyasha was also aware that his own methods didn't make him a bad one, either. Revealing his vexation would only show his brother weakness, and he refused.

Breathing the remainder of his indignation away, Inuyasha raised his chin. "If it were another kingdom, they wouldn't have let up at the first sign of resistance. They would have come in with a storm of soldiers. Considering their faces were covered, I suspect bandits testing our strengths. Maybe to see just how much they could get away with, maybe to weaken a portion of our defense, maybe to play the spy. I don't know that much. What I do know is my soldiers stood their ground. Excuse me, sire."

With an about face, the prince promptly exited the study, his cloak rustling behind him.

"Please go." Miroku spoke, finally breaking through the palpable tension in Inuyasha's office. The prince had clearly been fighting the urge to stare out the window, his fingers fidgeting against his pen as his leg impatiently bobbed up and down, and it was getting on the knight's nerves.

Inuyasha froze, ember eyes landing on his aide in the corner. Sango hardly looked up from the files she was sorting through, brown eyes flickering his way, then back to what she was doing. Miroku was solid in his disposition, his posture ill as he sprawled out on the small couch next to his partner.

"Go." He repeated. "Just don't be out too long."

"Go where?" Inuyasha apprehensively asked, a cold creeping through the blood in his veins.

"Please don't play dumb." Sango said, still unfazed.

"You think we don't know where you've been going? We've followed you almost every time."

"Miroku!"

"Just go! Please! Get it out of your system, you're driving me crazy!"

"I'm not doing anything!"

"You're brooding!"

"I am not!"

"Okay, fine." Miroku hopped off the couch, sauntering over to the head of Inuyasha's desk. "How much work have you filled out?"

Inuyasha hastily covered the papers before him with his body, glowering at the knight. "Back off!"

"Let me see!"

"Mind your business!"

"Hey, uh, news flash: In case you've forgotten during your daydreams of Kagome, you literally are my business!"

A wave of heat washed over Inuyasha's face, the words on his tongue dissipating as his stomach fell to the floor. He could feel his face drop, eyes widen - called out and exposed, humiliated, and completely nerve-wracked but too shocked to really do anything about it.

"Come on, Koga. Go see her. You and I both know that if you don't do it now, you're just going to cave and sneak out later. You might as well take the open opportunity."

"You really knew?"

"We know a lot of things you probably think we don't." Sango mentioned, the smirk on her lips taunting him.

The prince stared at her incredulously, unsure how to even respond.

"Don't worry, no one else knows." Miroku waved off, walking back over to the couch. "You should have just told us."

"Because you would have let me go?" He defensively asked.

"We haven't stopped you yet."

After a moment, Inuyasha sighed, dropping any idea he had to make an excuse, the tension leaving and deflating his chest. The soul purpose of having Sango and Miroku at his side was to help him with whatever he may need; whether that be protection, information, or guidance. They didn't just work for him though. Over the years, they'd become his closest friends. He trusted them.

"I liked that she had nothing to do with my main life at first. She smiled at me not because it was a polite face to put on in front of royalty, but because I genuinely made her laugh." He admitted, propping his chin up with his fist. His eyes fluttered downward as he thought back to the melodic sound, the memory filling him with the faintest tingle of hope. "In that same regard, she never feels obligated to swallow what she wants to say. And no matter what it is, I always want to hear it. It made me feel normal for a while."

"And what do you feel now?" Sango questioned, setting the files she once worked on aside.

"Scared."

"Why?"

"Because I can't get enough of her."

A smile bloomed on Miroku's face. The prince was justifiably guarded having lived a high-profile life. He couldn't allow just anyone in, and trust was hard for an outsider to earn. Miroku knew Inuyasha better than even his brother, having the close relationship that came with his trusted role, and he can honestly say he's never seen that soft, half-mast expression on his face before.

Ember irises glided up to meet his gaze, and without an ounce of delay, Miroku gestured toward the door with the flick of his eyes. The prince stood from his seat, not bothering to push it in as he promptly left his study.

Inuyasha seamlessly traveled through the halls without attracting any attention. The sun had yet to disappear behind the mountains, creating an amber hue to flood through the windows and reflect off the shining walls inside. Like second nature, he stuck to the barrier dividing the courtyard and the forest, finding his spot and swiftly climbing over.

"I wish you'd let me go for you." Kagome said, petting down the bridge of the nose of Kaede's rich, brown horse.

"It's nothing this old woman can't handle, child." She smiled down at her, the reigns loose in her grip. "I want you to rest tonight. Take the medicine I left for you, it'll help."

"I'm fine." She insisted, ignoring the thickness in her own voice.

"Kagome, dear," The herbalist hid her chuckle behind the back of her hand, a sympathetic curve arching in her brow. "That's impossible to believe when there's a "duh" sound being made at the end of fine."

"Really! It's just allergies!"

"And even if that were true, going into the high mountains to bring back herbs would only make your allergies worse, wouldn't it?"

"But -"

"Bed."

"Kaede -"

"Bed."

"I'm -"

"Don't say it." She openly laughed this time, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head as she prepared to leave. "You've done more than enough lately. There's nothing to worry about. I'll be back by tomorrow evening."

Kagome sighed, the steed bouncing backwards with the pull Kaede gave before they turned around and headed down the paved path at a hastened pace. She stood there, watching them fade to silhouettes in the distance. Kaede was a sneaky one. There were no orders for medication to make, and if there were, they were hidden from Kagome. The one delivery she thought she had to do today was picked up by the man's grandson just under an hour ago. Usually, whenever Kaede went to do anything overnight, Kagome was left a small checklist of things to do or prepare. Today, she found a container with a readied remedy for the common cold with a note that said, "Don't even think about chopping wood."

She couldn't help but feel useless. It was easier to keep busy than keep still as of late, and laying in bed while she was too physically uncomfortable to sleep wasn't exactly going to be the best solution to her restless mind.

Turning around on her heel to walk back, Kagome tried to think of subtle things she could do around the shop that wouldn't be too obvious to tip Kaede off that she'd worked. She could clean a little. Get ingredients to bake a pie for her return. How would Kaede even know if she chopped some wood, honestly? She'd just done laundry, and she regretted having that already checked off her list. Alternatively, she could practice shooting with her bow and arrow; her aim was rusty so it could use some work.

"Hey."

Kagome's sights darted up from the ground, landing on the knight she'd been trying so hard not to think about, leaning against the side of her own home. He was dressed semi-formally; a dark grey coat covering most of his torso, the inner hem and sleeve edges lined with gold and rolled up to expose half of his forearms. Beneath, covering his sternum and peeking through, he wore a deep red Bastian shirt, tucked properly within black pants, which in turn were tucked neatly within brown boots, his sword complimenting his attire at his hip.

If it was written in her body language, she didn't mind. There was no attempt to hide how finally seeing him there eased the tension in her shoulders, the soft grin he gave warming her core. She smiled in return, more of relief than anything, sighing out and redirecting her path toward him.

Her cheeks were flushed before she'd even noticed him, lids blinking over dull eyes. As soon as he gathered her attention, a small light returned to her, plush lips parting slowly. Though they weren’t as pink as he was used to them being, it was still more than enough to make him glad he came.

She didn’t stop walking at any distance, her head drooping slightly as she slowly closed any existing gap, gently resting her forehead against his chest. Inuyasha’s hands hovered out to the sides of her, uneasily. He knew something was wrong. If he hadn’t heard Kaede talking, he would have clearly seen it in her features. Nonetheless, he’d never expected Kagome to come to him as she had.

“You’re back.” She breathed, her weight sinking into him just an ounce more. Like a magnet drawing him in, relinquishing his caution, Inuyasha smoothed his fingers through her hair, threading at the crown with one hand while he pushed raven strands out of her face with the other. He could feel heat seeping through his clothing, scorching his flesh, a deep-rooted concern making home in his stomach.

“You okay?”

“Just tired.”

The prince ran the back of his fingers over her cheek, leaning away slightly and bending at the knees to get a better look at her face as he grasped her temperature. “You have a fever.” He said, and as she gave a wane smile and shook her head, he took her chin between his forefinger and thumb, holding her still to look at him as he stood straight once more.

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t do that. I told you I wanted you in one piece when I got back.”

“And I’ve yet to fall apart.” Kagome smiled cheekily. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, you look it.” He teased, sarcasm heavy in his tone. She grimaced, wrinkling her nose, but he spoke again before she could rebuttal. “Where’s the medicine?”

“You’re such an eavesdropper!”

“And I’ve got some fancy ears to support the hobby. Where is it, Kagome?”

She shook her head out of his grip, tucking herself within his chest once more. Her fingers gripped his coat this time, and his arms instinctively wrapped around her.

“It’s inside.” She murmured, words muffled by his clothes. There was something else there, something causing her to tighten her hold on him. He’d never seen her this way, and though he’d recently found himself wanting to know all there was to her, he wasn’t particularly fond of seeing her riddled with any degree of anxiety. When she didn’t say anything more, only trusted him to support more weight, he understood she wasn’t ready to move from their spot just yet.

“What’s wrong?”

“I was worried about you.”

Those words sank through his skin, igniting a flame in the cavity of his chest, flickering and popping like kindling encouraging wood to burn.

“I told you, one piece.” Inuyasha whispered in response, resting his chin atop her head.

#inuyasha #kagome #Kagome higurashi #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #Inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fic #inukag fanfiction #inukag fanfic #inukag fic #royal au #my writing #akitokihojo #enchanted

103 notes · View notes

tarotdeckshuffle · 5 years ago

Note

Witch and familiar au ignis was given to the local witch who lives on the outskirts of town as a peace offering because the villagers are simple minded and assume all witches like cats. unfortunately MC is allergic to them but still keeps ignis the cat because she's not going to throw an animal out to the wild. villagers there are jerks to her but always want some spell or potion from her so she's an outcast but also treated as "please help me even though I curse your name in town"

Roshy, I am so sorry this took so damn long to get to!!! I wanted to get this out for Halloween, but…well, we see how that went.

This is just a little drabble from what the story could be. It’s not well polished or anything, but it was time to get a story out for everyone. So I hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @idiotflowerex, @laststory1013, @sayaoqueen, @jophinabean, @mysme-already

If you like what you read, please consider supporting me on Patreon or buying me a Ko-fi!

A chill danced over your skin as the autumn winds announced the whispers of a frost. You smiled, busying yourself with harvesting the last of your herbs from your garden before the frost took them. Soon, they’d whither and die, to crumble into the soil and start the cycle anew. But this cycle didn’t sadden you, for these little plants would soon be a bed of nourishment for a new crop. If life had taught you little else, it was this: that everything happened in cycles.

Or so you hoped.

Your life had been a very long cycle of loneliness. Your parents gone and no siblings to speak of, you inhabited this little farmhouse alone. All the friends you had made had moved off to the city to seek their fortunes or married far from home. All the villagers that were left seemed to be wary of you.

You heard your name mentioned in hushed whispers in the market, only to fall to silence when you turned. Since the hushed whispers had begun, the children even came up with a new song to sing when jumping rope:

Goblin toes and honey dew

That what the witch’ll brew!

If you’re not good and home by dark

You bet you’ll be their next mark!

The whole situation was really quite childish, but it was getting on your nerves. You endured years of this taunting and were the butt of every joke, only to be called down to the village when the next fever swept through.

But that was for another day of this never ending cycle.

Today, you finished gathering up the herbs and carried the basket into your home. You placed the leaves into some cheese cloth to be washed in the sink and stared wistfully out the kitchen window into the afternoon sun.

A speck on the horizon caught your eye. Squinting, you could start making out that it was a person…Your heart sank as you realized it was your nearest neighbor, Darcela.

Darcela was an older woman. The woman had very little to be notable for, other than making a nuisance of herself. She wouldn’t be seen around the village for weeks on end, only to turn up, out of nowhere, trying to sell baked goods, and screaming about everyone around her. To the best anyone could tell, she hated everyone. You had obviously been the topic of her rants many a time, so you typically avoided her.

With the fury of a tempest, Darcela threw open your garden gate and came stomping up to your door. You opened it hurriedly, not wanting to give her the opportunity to knock it off its hinges.

“GET YOUR DAMN CAT OUT OF MY GARDEN!” The old woman screeched.

You stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded. Had the hag completely lost her mind?

“Why are you staring at me like that?! I said, get your cat out of my garden!! He’s ruining all of my plants!” The woman’s eyes were red and she looked ready to fight.

“I don’t own a cat…I’m allergic to them.” you gently whispered.

Darcela threw up her hands and spun away from you in exasperation. “You’re telling me the witch doesn’t own a cat?!”

You hufed, having had this argument countless times. “I’m not a…”

“I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU ARE! What I care about is the cat in my garden!” Darcela was already walking down the path back to her home. You sighed, following obediently, knowing you were the poor cat’s only hope.

You followed Darcela into her “garden” but honestly, it just looked like a bunch of unkept weeds within a picket fence. You didn’t see what the big deal was. She walked ahead of you, throwing her hands about and talking about how this was her pride and joy and blah blah blah.

Eventually, you came upon the patch in question. “It was almost ready to harvest, too!” Darcela cried, as you parted the tall plants. The leaves looked strange to you, like scrunched up stars. In amongst the greenery was a large black cat, sprawled out on his back, enjoying the sunshine.

Realization hit you like the scent from the garden as you picked up the cat. “I see why you want him out, Darcela. Maybe you should try DEALING with your plants rather than baking with them. Besides, I hear their smoke is far faster than their taste.” You shot your neighbor a knowing smile and she blushed.

You walked out of her garden, the black cat purring in your arms. Your skin was already starting to itch. You set him down when you were just out of sight of Darcela’s hut.

“There. Now don’t go getting into such trouble again!” You said to the cat, wagging your finger at it. “Who am I kidding…I’m talking to a cat.” You threw up your hands and brushed past the black beast. But your walk home wasn’t alone. Your furry companion zigzagged in and out of your legs as you walked, regardless of how badly you tried to shoo him.

Why was this cat being so persistent to be with you? Was it a lost pet? It certainly didn’t act wild with you.

At home, the persistent beast did not relent. It snuck into your home and made its bed on yours. You would have weeks of itching skin now. But it was cute…

Eventually, you relented.

By the time you got around to making dinner, the moon was already rising outside.

Tonight you would have parsnip soup. It wasn’t much, but it was all you had. Someday things would get better. They cycle had to end somewhere, didn’t it?

You sipped from the hot bowl with yoru wooden ladle. The cat seemed entranced by what you were doing.

“What? Do you want some?” you jested. To your surprise, the cat meowed in response.

A smile crept over your face. Perhaps this little creature wouldn’t be such a bad companion. As you leaned over to take another taste of the soup, a sharp pain ran up your leg!

It was the cat! He was trying to claw at your leg!

Relenting, you paused in your makeshift dinner to give your companion a saucer of milk. That was a thing cats liked, right?

But your plan didn’t work. The beast started meowing for your dinner. It took a few minutes of battle before he got the best of you.

You slammed a bowl down on the ground. “THERE! HAPPY?!” The cat replied with silence. Prancing over to sip from it’s victory dinner.

It’s small tongue lapped at the warm soup. It was all fairly cute you thought as you watched. Just as everything was starting to calm down…

POOF!

In a cloud of lavender smoke, the cat disappeared and a tall, handsome, completely naked man appeared.

He cleared his throat before addressing you. “Yes, now as I was saying, it needs some salt.”

#ffxv #final fantasy #ignis #ignis scientia #ignis x reader #witch #cat #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15

63 notes · View notes

saiilorstars · 5 years ago

Text

It Had To Be You

Ch.16: I’m Crazy For You // Story Masterlist

Fandom: The Flash

Pairings: Barry Allen x Original Female Character

Pronunciation of OC’s name: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: Caitlin prompts Barry to start facing his thoughts regarding Belén. Some of those thoughts are actually feelings and Caitlin might have a way to make it so that Barry can come to a conclusion. If only either of them knew what plans Belén made for her dating life a while ago.

"Pay up!" Belén laughed and held her hand out to her older sister. "Hey, just remember that it was you who wanted to play Monopoly. I just wanted to watch a movie."

With a glare, Maritza handed the required cash over to Belén. "You are so cheating."

"See this is why I don't like playing games with you - you are a sad sore loser!"

Maritza gasped in offence while Belén counted her fake Monopoly cash. Suddenly, her cell phone went off. She picked it up beside her and took the call without even seeing the ID. "Yellow?" she said then blinked ghastly. "Oh my, that was such a dorky thing to say. Forget I ever said that please-"

While Maritza could not hear who was on the other line, she had a good idea who it might be judging by the sudden rapidness in Belén to leave the house. There went her tenth attempt to have a proper family night.

"Where are you going?" Maritza called but Belén was already halfway towards the door.

"I, uh, completely forgot I had to go help Caitlin with, uh...painting!"

"Painting?"

"And drinking!" Belén closed the door behind her, figuring that excuse could be valid. She rushed off the porch steps and ran down to the streets where, in a couple more seconds, she turned into nothing but vines and went towards her destination.

~ 0 ~

An upturned car under a livewire was the center of the needed appearance of the vigilantes. A couple was trapped inside, and neither could figure out how to get out of it. Outside there were several firemen arriving on the spot to help.

There was a tap on the passenger seat, and the woman glanced to see a woman in green smiling kindly from the other side. "Hang on, we're gonna get you out."

While Belén worked on her side, Barry stood on the other side intending on helping the man there out. Using his vibration methods, he was able to get the driver's door off its hinges and thus the man out as well. Meanwhile, Belén was using her thick vines to pull the door off its hinges. As Barry took the man out of the car and brought him towards the firemen, Belén reached in for the woman.

"You'll be okay now," Barry promised the young man who literally feared for his life.

Just as Barry glanced back towards the car to see how Belén was doing, a spark from the livewire managed to touch spilled gasoline on the ground. A great flame sprouted that quickly spread towards the car and immediately caused an explosion.

The man beside Barry nearly lost it thinking his girlfriend had been consumed by the flames. Barry was in a similar state thinking Belén had not been fast enough. In his mindset, he forgot who they were at the moment and where they were as he called out to her. "Bells!"

"You know, the whole point of having secret identities is so people won't know who you are," he heard a perfectly calm voice behind. When he turned around there stood his partner with a scared woman beside her, both untouched from the flames.

"Dana!" the rescued man called with great relief as his girlfriend ran to his side.

Barry wasted no time in coming up to Belén to inspect her for any noticeable injuries. When he saw nothing, he gave her great, big hug. Surprised, Belén just laughed.

"Thank you," the phrase from the saved man cut their moment short.

"You're welcome," Belén cheerfully waved them goodbye before taking off with Barry.

~ 0 ~

Once the two metas were back at STAR Labs, Cisco got to work on a mildly charred suit.

"Dude. That was insane," Cisco was still in awe over the recent incident. "I mean, that was just...wow! Although," he sobered a little then, "I'm having trouble understanding how you dirtied up my suit while Bells here came out without a single mark."

"Mm, that's because girls are neater," Belén called from the computer desk where she, Caitlin and Dr. Wells were.

Barry, who sat nearer Cisco, frowned. "That's not true for every guy."

"Yeah, it is. Look, my brother was a slob and he was a genius. My dad, same story. Cisco, I'm sorry but it's true as well. And you, Barry, are the same story. Don't forget I stayed in your old room for sometime. You're all slobs!"

Caitlin snickered from the side, while Barry and Cisco exchanged unamused looks.

"I think perhaps it's time to call it a day," Dr. Wells declared after a minute, eyeing them all with a slight smile. "Proper rest is what you all need."

As he left the room, Cisco came up with an alternative option. ""Better yet, what we all need is a proper drink. Who's up for a round?"

Barry got up and went up to his draped jacket left near his suit. "Oh, dude, it's... It's movie night with Joe. I can't. But I'll see you guys tomorrow, all right?"

"Yeah, I can't either," Caitlin shook her head, getting ready to leave as well.

"I'll go," volunteered Belén, having Cisco perk up instantly. "I don't feel like playing monopoly anymore. I could do with a drink."

"Excellent," Cisco pointed at her. "And I know your favorites!"

"I'm not drinking vodka, though!"

Silently, Barry watched them go back and forth about what drinks they would be buying. He couldn't understand it yet, but he didn't feel too ecstatic about the two going out...on their own. Why would they need to go out on their own anyways? Why couldn't they wait until they all went out as a group instead?

"Barry," Caitlin's call made him snap out of his thoughts. He looked at her with slight widened eyes. "Your phone is ringing," she pointed.

"Oh," he fished out his phone from his pocket and saw Joe's name on the ID. "It's Joe, I'm late. I should...go…" Caitlin smiled and nodded for him to leave, but as he left he kept throwing looks back at Belén and Cisco who were in deep conversation of where they were going.

Caitlin waited for the two to sort of end that conversation so she could get to something important before she too left. "Cisco?" she called and grabbed his attention. "Funny thing, I was looking for my tablet at your workstation, and I found this." She held up his tablet that was on an article of F.I.R.E.S.T.O.R.M.

Cisco blinked rapidly. "I can explain. I know you said we should stop looking for Ronnie, so I... didn't stop looking for Ronnie."

Belén giggled at his honesty.

Caitlin was in no mood to laugh at the moment. "Why?"

"Hartley. He said he knew what happened to Ronnie-"

"Oh, Hartley Rathaway, who is currently locked up in our super-villain basement jail for going psycho with sound waves?"

"Yeah, he's not a very reliable source," Belén apologetically looked to Cisco.

"He's made some poor choices. There's no argument there," Cisco nodded his head in agreement. "But I looked into what he was saying and…"

"Cisco," Caitlin interjected, "Ronnie's gone, and it's time for me to move on with my life,"

Cisco looked at her a moment before mumbling. "Doesn't seem like it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Look, I'm not an expert on love, but I think in order to move on from Ronnie, you actually have to move on."

"And he means that in the nicest way possible," Belén added after an awkward pause, throwing Cisco a warning look to stop talking. He did, and with the nicest smile possible, Belén led him out of the room, leaving Caitlin to ponder on Cisco's last words.

~ 0 ~

Next morning, early morning, Iron Heights became the new spot for a CCPD crime scene. Barry inspected the lonesome cell that once belonged to a Clay Parker who, as of last night, had mysteriously made an escape without needing to unlock the cell door. There was no clue as to how he did it.

"Hey," Joe walked into the cell holding a small notepad in hand. "The security cameras in half the prison are shut down. Then Clay Parker, according to this data log, who was still locked in his cell, somehow vanishes."

"Not completely," Barry shook his head, coming to show Joe a small vial that seemed to contain black specs of some sort.

Joe eyed the vial. "What's that?"

"It's some kind of organic particulate residual. I found it on the floor in here, just outside the cell, out in the hallway. Trail led me all the way outside…" Barry stopped at the sight of his father walking in from the corridor. "Dad!"

Henry chuckled at his son as he was given a hug. "So... Word around here is, Parker pulled a Shawshank?"

Joe nodded. "Yep, and none of the other prisoners heard or saw anything."

"Well, they wouldn't talk to you about it."

"Leaves us with not a lot to go on," Barry sighed, though he could not feel an ounce sad about it when he had his father right in front of it.

"Well, if there's anyone who can figure out how Parker got out of here, it's you, Son," Henry smiled.

The guard that had brought Henry by rugged him by the arm. "Come on, Allen, let's go."

"Duty calls," Henry sarcastically told the other two.

Barry waved him goodbye then turned to Joe suspiciously. "So, my dad just happened to come by?"

"The guard owed me a favor," Joe shrugged.

"Thank you," Barry sighed, for once actually happy.

~ 0 ~

"Where are you going?" Belén asked Noah when she saw the young man leaving his desk to accompany two other of their colleagues.

"Working on the new escape case in Iron Heights," Noah studied Belén's reaction. "You...don't know about it?"

"I know about it but not that we were working on it," Belén clarified, rising from her chair to look at the other two colleagues behind Noah. "Why wasn't I asked to join?"

One of the colleagues, a middle aged man, gave her a scornful look. "We figured you wouldn't want to tell us anything you knew of."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Belén frowned.

The second colleague, a brunette woman, responded equally rude. "Since you don't want to let CC Picture News in on anything why bother to write with us?"

Belén blinked, but said nothing more. She knew exactly what they were talking about then. Noah gave her an apologetic look before following the other two away. A couple minutes later arrived Iris, who more or less assumed what had happened.

"I can't believe they're still holding my own kidnapping over my head," Belén plopped back on her chair. "I can't take more of this I swear."

Iris comfortingly patted her shoulder. "It'll blow over, you'll see."

Belén scoffed. "It's been weeks now, Iris, and they still won't give it up."

"Give what up?" Linda walked by and stopped at the sight of Belén. "What's happened to you?"

"They still think Belén is holding back on them with her kidnapping details," Iris explained, but Linda remained unfazed.

"Still?" she looked at Belén again. "Well, we are dealing with journalists. It's their job to hammer people down."

"But she says she does not know anything," Iris then spoke lower about the real problem. "She didn't actually meet the Flash."

Linda sighed, but she looked almost as disbelieving as the rest. "Well, maybe Belén is...you know, holding out. Which I Would totally understand considering the parahnas we have around here."

Belén looked up to Linda with a disappointed face. "Thanks, Linda, my mentor and she isn't on my side."

"Oh calm down," Linda playfully rolled her eyes. "I'll see what I can do, but you'll have to toughen up in the meantime and, you know, it wouldn't hurt to come up with a killer story for this week."

"There's no way to do that when they won't let me into the group anyways," Belén huffed as Linda walked away, letting her head drop into her desk. Iris came back and amusingly smiled at her friend while trying to cheer he up a little.

~ 0 ~

Figuring there was something overly odd in this case, Barry and Joe moved to STAR Labs for some help. They pulled up on a computer the evidence Barry had found in the cell.

"Not even Barry's cells move this fast. I've never seen anything like it," Caitlin remarked in awe.

"So Clay Parker is a meta-human?" Joe asked for some confirmation.

"Not so fast. The particulate residue Barry gathered at Iron Heights does contain Clay Parker's DNA, but also DNA of a woman," Dr. Wells revealed and made everyone look back at the screen to see for their selves.

"Run her DNA against the CCPD criminal database," instructed Barry. "See if you get a match."

Cisco typed for a moment before exclaiming, "Yahtzee!" and pulled up a profile of a young, dark-skinned, woman on the screen. "Her name's Shawna Baez. Mostly petty crimes, and this girl likes to party, apparently. Long list of disorderly conducts at local bars."

"So I'm guessing we find her, we find Clay Parker," Joe concluded.

"Yeah," Barry moved to leave with Joe.

Wells did the same with his team. "In the meantime, let's track these particulates and see how they work."

"I'll be right with you guys," Cisco called towards them, but after they left he moved in an entirely different direction...towards the pipeline.

~ 0 ~

Later that evening, Barry met Iris for some coffee before going home. He was pleasantly surprised to see Belén arriving with Iris. He realized he hadn't seen Belén all day since last night...when she went for drinks with Cisco. The mere thought put him in a mood he did not yet understand why.

"What's your smile about?" Iris greeted him with that.

"I saw my dad today. No glass, no phones. Just me and him, face-to-face," he shared delightfully. "Joe arranged it,"

Iris smiled softly. "That must have been amazing, Barry."

"Yeah. I really needed it."

"Were you there investigating the breakout?" Belén curiously wondered as she walked to their table with a to-go cup tray.

"Mm-hmm," it was then that Barry noticed something was off with her.

"That is a big story," she sighed, sliding Iris her cup. "That I am not a part of."

"Why not?"

Belén wondered if it was right to tell him considering it had a lot to do with him, well...most of it. Iris saw no problem in sharing for her.

"The editor and the writers think she's holding out on the deets of her kidnapping."

"Which I told them a gazillion times I'm not," Belén clarified meaningfully to him.

"But no one believes her," Iris finished for her. "They think she knows the Flash and is just hiding it. They want the story. Even Linda seems to doubt her."

"Yeah, but I'm okay with her - I know her," Belén waved that one off. "Plus, she would never do what the others are doing to me. She's a good colleague."

"Uh, hello?" Iris sarcastically waved at her.

"Along with Iris West," Belén added with a small smile. "And, I guess, Noah. But other than them I'm screwed. I really think I could lose my job if this keeps up."

"What can we do?" Barry quickly asked, but Belén knew what he really meant. What could he, as the Flash, do to help her?

"Nothing," Belén gave him a sharp look. She didn't want him to do anything on her behalf that could jeopardize his secret identity.

"I think what Linda said is true," Iris said, missing the exchange of looks. "I bet if Bells writes a killer story about this recent breakout in Iron Heights, this will blow over." Unfortunately, while Iris seemed sure, Belén failed to do the same.

~ 0 ~

Caitlin moved to the computer desk after seeing Belén and Barry coming in. She had found something interesting she needed to show them in case they came across either Shawna or Clay, or perhaps both.

"Little down, Bells?" Caitlin asked as she turned the computer on.

"Nothing to worry about," Belén discarded it, much more interested in what Caitlin had to show them.

"I was analyzing the particulates that Clay Parker and Shawna Baez left behind, and I found something very interesting," she began to explain. "When Clay's cells come into contact with Shawna's, they adopt her properties," she began biting her lip endlessly that both Belén and Barry had noticed in a snap.

Amused, Barry asked, "Something bothering you?"

Caitlin let go of her lip and looked at them. "Why would you ask that?"

Belén chuckled. "Because you're doing that biting your lower lip thing that you do when something's bothering you."

Caitlin cleared her throat and straightened up, looking positively offended. "Cisco basically said I don't have a life! And Bells was there as a witness."

The pointed finger her way made Belén chuckle. "He said it in the nicest way possible."

"There is no nice way to say that!"

"But, I mean," Barry awkwardly coughed, "You don't, do you?"

Caitlin frowned. "I do! I cook and I eat and I read and I help you guys-"

"So, what you're saying is, you do everything that has nothing to do with having a life."

This time, Belén smacked him on the arm. "And he means that in the nicest way possible."

Caitlin grumbled, crossing her arms. Barry chuckled. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm not doing any better than you. My social life consists of running at superhuman speed and Netflix."

"I'm more or less the same," agreed Belén with a weary sigh. "The only good thing right now is me getting my practice on with the aerial dance team. Oh, and, Hulu is much better."

Caitlin was about to declare them all losers when the computer chimed an alert. "There's an armed robbery in progress. Two suspects, male and female in their 20s. Sounds like our meta-human Bonnie and Clyde are at it again."

"We should go," Belén started for her suit.

"How could you think Hulu is better than Netflix?" Barry still found time to ask about that as he followed her. "It has commercials!"

"Then pay you cheapskate!"

"It's free on Netflix!"

Caitlin smiled to herself while the two metas went back and forth. She was just glad they were able to get a move on despite ending on disagreeing sides.

~ 0 ~

Shawna and her recently freed boyfriend, Clay, were certainly in action stealing money from a bank truck. While Clay kept the driver and passenger of the truck occupied via gun point, Shawna grabbed two full bags of money and teleported to their getaway car. When she finished placing the bags in the trunk, she heard a wind pick up and looked around to see the Flash.

"Oh, I've read about you," she mused, putting her hands in her back pockets like it was a casual moment. "You're The Flash. I've heard you're real fast. Let's see if it's true." She teleported a distance behind Barry, calling out, "Catch me if you can."

Barry took the easy challenge and sped up behind her, easily grabbing her. "I can."

Shawna rolled her eyes and teleported again, this time appearing on a staircase landing of a construction building.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," Barry groaned. Perhaps he could have instead taken up the task of getting Clay and the two civilians, but Belén had quickly volunteered to do so herself. So, he sped up to the landing but the moment he touched Shawna she teleported, and this time with him, to the second floor. Hanging awkwardly from the rails, Shawna smirked down at him.

"Not too many men can keep up with me," she waved and teleported near the car again.

"Then let's make it a ladies' fight," Belén had appeared beside her and flat out punched Shawna across the face. "I can disappear too, you know."

Shawna, clutching her cheek, got back up with a fury of danger. She teleported behind Belén and effectively kicked her on the back. She wished she had some sort of weapon to have a better defence.

Belén whirled around, angry herself. "Well!" She felt the other side of her powers absorb that anger to turn it into something else. You can't lose control, you can't, she told herself repeatedly. She flexed her hands and took in deep breaths in hopes of calming that side down.

She didn't get the chance to actually retaliate when she heard a ringing shot behind her. Halfway turning, Barry pushed her out of the way and the two rolled to a stop on the ground. Belén blinked rapidly out of shock and looked up at Barry. Their closeness factored in pretty fast for the two but their masks were enough to hide their red faces.

"Your arm..." Belén gasped when she saw the bullet embedded in Barry's right arm.

"What...?" he got off her and spotted the bullet in his arm. He'd barely felt the thing!

~ 0 ~

Caitlin was not an ounce happy treating a particular injury on Barry. "This is a bullet wound," she declared as if repeating it would make it more severe. "You're lucky it just barely grazed the skin."

Barry took her scolding silently, more or less bored. Meanwhile, Belén who stood on his side, looked more concern for the both of them. "I thought I knocked Clay out," she said once again, "I don't understand how he was up and ready to shoot me."

"We're thankful he didn't," Dr. Wells said, less concerned and less upset than both women.

"Barry, I'm sorry," Belén turned to him. "That is the last time you literally take a bullet for me, okay?" she blamed herself for being so focused on her powers. She missed the obvious - a man with a gun - and nearly caused her friend to get shot.

"It's no problem," Barry shrugged as he grabbed his jacket lying on the end of the bed. "I don't even feel anything."

"I owe you big time," Belén sighed, thinking of how long that list must be by now.

"It's fine, Bells," Barry said for the last time before going into their main discovery of the day. "Shawna Baez. She can teleport."

Caitlin blinked. "As in, 'Beam me up, Shawna'?"

Wells seemed much more excited as he laughed. "Yes, of course. Quantum entanglement. The ability to manipulate interconnected particles over an infinite distance. Or, as Einstein put it, 'spooky action at a distance'."

"Every time I got close, she'd disappear," Barry sighed. "It was like we were playing a game of…"

"Peek-a-boo!" Caitlin suddenly exclaimed, receiving odd looks from the trio. "Come on. Can't I name one?"

Belén smiled at her a moment then moved on. "How can we capture someone if we don't know where she's gonna be?"

"Everybody has limits," Wells reminded. "Now that we know Shawna's powers, we'll focus on those limits."

"That would be great," Belén sighed, now more determined than ever to capture Shawna.

"C'mon Bells," Cisco led her out the room. "Let's just get you home, yeah? It's all fine."

"Mhm," the woman gave a small nod as they left.

"I told her I was fine," Barry said after it was just him and Caitlin. "Why did she go off with Cisco again?"

Caitlin smiled to herself, something Barry caught, as she returned to the cortex. "Any particular reason why that's bothersome?"

"I didn't - no, I didn't mean it like that," Barry came walking after her. "I was just...I was just asking a question-"

Caitlin bumped into him when she turned around, surprising him in the process. "Really? So that face is just meant to be casual?"

"I - Caitlin!"

Caitlin chuckled as she went around the desk. "It looks like I'm the winning the bet after all."

"What bet?" Barry frowned at her.

She sheepishly smiled and pushed some of her hair behind her ears. "Well, don't get mad, but, um...Cisco, Dr. Wells and I made a bet about you and Belén."

"What?" Barry's frown further deepened and was mixed in with some offence. "How...this is a joke right? Right?"

Caitlin shook her head. "I thought it was a playful thing, you know. But I ended up winning. Three months and you're ready to ask her out!"

"Caitlin Snow I never thought you were capable of such a thing!" Barry turned away, mostly because his face was getting warm and red.

"I know," Caitlin said, but her laughter made her sound not that apologetic about it. "But if you ask me about it, I think you and Belén would make a nice couple."

"Caitlin..." Barry gave her a sideways glance, "I'm not...asking...no. I...I'm not."

"Why not?" Caitlin earnestly asked.

Barry gave a little smile, almost nervously laughing. "We're not actually doing this, right?"

"Doing what?"

"Talking about...this?"

"We don't have to," Caitlin raised her hands, showing him this was all up to him. "I just gave my opinion, but no one is forcing you to do anything you don't want to."

"Well, it's not that I wouldn't like to..." Barry swayed his head, really trying to ignore how warm his face felt. He had been admittedly thinking a little more about Belén than any other friend. In a very short time he discovered she was incredibly sweet, quirky and she definitely rambled a lot. He liked when she rambled a lot. "She's...she's my friend..." She was a really good friend...and perhaps that was the problem. There was a risk that maybe Belén didn't even see him that way and it would just end their friendship if he did anything beyond that. "What if I end up ruining it by actually asking her out?"

Caitlin warmly smiled. "Being scared is normal, especially if it is between friends. But I guess you just have to ask yourself if you really want to try things with Belén - do you think it's worth it?"

"I...I don't know," Barry felt terrible answering. "I've only just started thinking about this. I'm not sure about anything."

"Then just think about it," Caitlin said. "No rush at all."

"Yeah," Barry nodded, really intending on doing that. He bid her goodnight and returned home. He found the West residence completely empty. Joe and Iris must be still working. He found the kitchen empty and, unfortunately, empty of food as well. After a moment's pause, he pulled out his phone and dialed for Caitlin.

"Hello? Still need to talk?"

Barry playfully rolled his eyes. "Ha, ha, no. I just wanted to know what bars did Shawna go to again?"

"Uh, mostly south side dive bars. Why?"

"I was just gonna check 'em out. See if they fall into any old habits."

"That's a good idea...mind if I join you?"

"Sure!"

The two exchanged details of their first stop before hanging. Just as Caitlin was about to put her phone down she got another idea. Oh, she was being sneaky and she was never sneaky. Cisco might have been proud of her right there.

~ 0 ~

The bar Barry chose had a karaoke stand where literally anyone could get up on and unfortunately not everyone who went up had the right singing voice. He was having himself a drink, just for show considering he couldn't actually get drunk, while watching a man attempt to sing. He was on alert for Caitlin who was supposed to be coming in any moment now. So, when he saw not Caitlin but Belén crossing through the doors, nicely dressed, he nearly choked on his drink.

"Bells…?"

Belén seemed just as surprised as Barry was when she saw him. Still, she scurried through the bar towards Barry's table in a pair of black heeled shoes. "Barry, hi," she said rather breathlessly as she set her purse down.

"What are you...doing here?" Barry couldn't help giving her a look-over. She was dressed in an off-the-shoulder emerald blouse with short sleeves, tucked underneath a black leather skirt. Her lips were painted a deep red which were twisted into a smile. It was quite a sight.

"Caitlin called," Belén answered, never noticing that her appearance was being checked out. It's also why she missed Barry's face falling flat when she mentioned Caitlin's name,

Caitlin you sneak, Barry silently cursed.

Belén pushed back some of her curled hair after taking the seat next to Barry. "She was in a hurry but she said if I wanted to go out and since I wanted to get away from Maritza I said yes in a heartbeat. I guess she just forgot to mention you were here too."

"Is that a problem?" Barry asked, momentarily confused.

"No," Belén laughed. "Although now I'm self conscious of my clothing choices. I guess this is metahuman work time?"

"No, no, you look nice," Barry assured, and by the third look over Belén caught on and blushed.

"So tell me, what are we doing?" she cast a look towards the karaoke stand. "That looks...interesting..."

"Uh, well, so far just...listening," Barry pretended to flinch when the singing man didn't hit a high key the right way.

"Guys!" they heard Caitlin calling for them. She arrived wearing a tight, shiny black dress with her curled hair. With a beam she plopped down across them.

"Thanks for half explaining things to me," Belén mocked a scold.

"This is where Shawna Baez and Clay Parker used to hang out?" Caitlin looked around but discreetly smiled at Barry. There was no shame in pushing a little, she told herself after she made the call to Belén.

"It is, according to the files," Barry nodded.

"Is that what we're doing?" Belén said glumly as she looked down at her clothes. "Man, I could have worn jeans for this."

"I thought we could kill two birds with one stone," Caitlin shrugged.

"And what would that be?"

"Look for them and get ourselves back out there," Caitlin announced, startling the two. Yes, maybe she was pushing a little but it was fair game as long as she did not disclose anything both Barry and Belén had told her about them.

This surprised Belén, and for some reason she glanced at Barry. "You want to date?" she definitely did not mean to ask that in a disappointed manner. The words just came out of her mouth before she could even think.

Barry blinked, caught off guard by her question. "Uh - well, n-not...not e-exactly…"

"Oh, c'mon!" Caitlin ignored their awkward moment and reached for the drink Barry had been mindlessly drinking. "I'm pining for someone who bursts into flames and wants nothing to do with me, Belén's a bit traumatized from her last relationship and Barry's not gathered enough courage to ask someone out. We're kind of - for a lack of a better word - losers."

"Well, I mean, she's not wrong - wait, you want to ask someone out?" Belén had just processed all of Caitlin's words and now looked at Barry again.

"What? You're afraid of moving on from Carlton!" was Barry's genius response.

Caitlin buried her nose into the drink that wasn't even hers. She might have gotten a little carried away there. Whoops.

"Well, I think I'm justified," Belén said, mildly offended. "My last boyfriend kidnapped me. That's far worse than anything. Your petty fears are nothing. Girl's going to be lucky," she looked down at the table, processing the way she felt at the moment. She didn't want to say she was upset or anything just because Barry was thinking about asking someone out, but...yeah, she might be actually.

Caitlin had finished the glass in her hand and shifted on her chair to call a nearby waitress. ""Excuse me? I would like to start a tab."

"Oh, this cannot go well," Belén mumbled to Barry.

True to her word, Belén was witness to a different version of Caitlin...a much more drunk version of Caitlin. She and Barry tried stopping Caitlin at one point but she was adamant to keep going and to have some fun. Belén went up to the bar counter in an effort to get some water for Caitlin, but she had to wait for the bartender to get rid of other customers. Barry had volunteered first but for some reason the bartender seemed to ignore his calls. Still, Belén was taking an awful long time, so much that eventually Barry went over to check on her.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asked, taking a seat on the empty stool beside her.

"Long line," Belén gestured to the crowd at the end of the counter. "Um, where's Caitlin?"

"At the table," Barry pointed to...their empty table.

"Where is she!?" Belén straightened up, ready to jump off and go in search for their drunken friend.

There was a noise from the stage up ahead and next thing they knew, someone was calling for…

"Mr. Barry Allen! Come on down! Or up!" Caitlin giggled to herself, using the microphone to sustain herself.

Belén covered her mouth with her hand to hide her growing smile. She was wrong- this could possibly end well.

Barry, mortified with the extra attention he was now getting from the audience, repeatedly rejected the idea. "I'm not doing it…"

"Come up here with me!" Caitlin insisted, motioning with a hand for him to come over. "Oh, come show 'em what you got!"

Barry did a cutting motion across his neck, shaking his own head. "No...n-no…"

Caitlin refused to take a 'No' and called upon the audience to encourage him on. She was a relentless drunk by the looks of it. "Barry! Barry! Barry!"

Barry rubbed his face, thinking of an evil way to get back at Caitlin for all of this. He owed her a lot tonight! Suddenly, he heard a distinct voice joining the cheering crowd. He dropped his hand and glanced to his side to see Belén teasingly smiling his way, actively cheering.

"No, not you too…" he shook his head.

Belén laughed, gently pushing him forwards. "Go on, Barry!"

Caitlin raised a fist pump into the air when she saw him coming up to the stage. "Ooh, look at him go. He's so fast!" she slapped a finger to her lips and made an 'Oops' face as he stepped on.

Barry shook his head at her. "You know I'm not much of a singer. And you're not much of a drinker."

"We are gonna bring this place down!"

Barry could not see himself getting away from this situation anytime soon. "Okay, just…"

Belén made herself comfortable on her stool as the song 'Summer Nights' began playing. She was not surprised to hear Caitlin singing off key - it was rather amusing. She pulled out her phone in time to catch the singing session.

"Summer lovin', had me a blast…"

"Summer lovin' happened so fast, I met a girl, crazy for me…"

Belén was shocked to hear Barry's perfect singing voice. In comparison to Caitlin, it sounded like Barry had been practicing forever. She abandoned her teasing plans - sort of - and listened to the entire song.

When the song was over, she purposely cleared her throat loudly. "You're fast, you're a scientist and you can sing?" Barry responded in a light chuckle, not realizing Caitlin was lagging in catching up. "I'm starting to think you are the triple threat here."

"No...no," Barry sat down beside her, blushing red as she laughed.

"I'm so happy I can show this moment to everyone else tomorrow," Belén waved her phone in front of him, showing him the video of him and Caitlin singing.

Barry's eyes widened in alarm. "No!" Belén jerked her hand to her chest before he could snatch her phone away. "You are….evil!" Barry couldn't find the right words to express his horror.

"Mm, I think I was more...smart...or clever...no wait, that's the same thing," Belén tilted her head as she thought out loud. "I wonder what I would be like if I was evil?"

"You can't be evil," Barry flat out told her, almost laughing at the idea.

"What? Why?" Belén eyed Caitlin who was failing to show up because she had stopped at a random person's table. They would eventually have to go get her.

"Because you're too sweet to be evil."

Belén felt her face warm up at the comment, and so she smiled. "Aw, thank you."

"Guys! Look who I found!" Caitlin exclaimed, making them look over to see her walking with Noah and Linda.

"Hey!" Belén beamed at the sight of her two colleagues, missing the sort of disappointed look on Barry's face. "What are you guys doing here!?"

"Noah owed me a drink," Linda shrugged.

"For what?"

"My team losssst," the man glumly said, although there was something quite off about him.

"He's kinda drunk," Linda mocked a whisper tone as she explained.

"Ah," Belén eyed her indeed drunken co-worker with some amusement. "I think he and Caitlin are about to hit it off then."

"We were about to leave…" Linda grabbed Noah by the arm but the man shook her off and stumbled his way to the counter, howling towards the bartender to give him another round.

"Don't you dare, Stevie," Linda called to the bartender who was halfway down before she told him to go away.

"Guys," Caitlin's face had suddenly turned pale, and she placed a hand on her stomach, "I don't feel so well."

Both her friends could easily see she had finally reached her drinking limit. Barry nodded, half reluctant, towards Belén signifying he would take care of it. "C'mon, Cait," he quickly got up and hurried out the door, speeding away once they were outside before she would end up vomiting.

"Woah, where'd your friends go?" Noah laughed and took Barry's place beside Belén.

"Noah," Belén chuckled, placing an elbow on the counter to rest her cheek on her palm. "I think it's time for you to go home too."

"Yeah, I'm gonna go close the tab," Linda said, moving towards Stevie the bartender.

"I thought you said drinks were on Noah?" Belén glanced back.

"You really think I'm gonna let him pay right now?" Linda shook her head. "I do have honor, Belén."

Chuckling, Belén returned her attention to Noah, squealing when she saw him so close to her face. "Noah! You scared me!"

"I like your eyes, you have pretty eyes," he remarked without a car in the world.

Belén smiled. "And you have a freckle on your nose. We're all discovering new things about our friends tonight apparently," her smile widened as she thought of Barry and his apparent singing talent.

"What color are your eyes, Belén? Are they black?"

"No, they're brown. And sit back down before you fall!"

Noah ignored her and continued asking questions of her facial features. "Your cheeks are pink!"

"Because it's hot here! Now sit down-"

"You have straight teeth too!" Noah poked Belén's cheek which made her laugh.

"I should take a video of you and show it to you tomorrow," she thought out loud. "I'm just scoring videos tonight!"

"Belén, I like your lips too…"

"You're losing it, Noah. For real."

At this time, Barry had returned to the bar, after leaving Caitlin safely in her apartment. He saw Noah sitting in his place and quite close to Belén.

"Do you think...I could…" Noah's other fingers joined Belén's cheek then lowered near her jawline. Before Belén knew it, he had planted his lips over hers for a kiss.

A twinge of actual jealousy surged through Barry as he saw this literally feet away from them. Linda returned from paying the tab at the same time and had gasped in honest surprise when she saw them.

Belén pulled away as soon as she could. She was a bit disoriented for the first couple of seconds. She had no idea where that came from and she genuinely wasn't quite interested in having it repeat itself. Putting a hand over her mouth, she slid out of her stool. "Oh my God…"

"Glad to see you two are having fun," remarked Linda, arms crossed, as she walked up to them.

"H-he's drunk," Belén was still gathering herself from the moment, one hand in her hair. She met eyes with Barry, and instantly he could see her discomfort- which did put him in a less tensed stance. "Can we go home, please?"

He nodded. "Let's just get the tab closed, okay?"

Grateful, she grabbed her purse, intending on waiting for him in her spot. However, halfway passing by, Noah made an attempt to grab her arm, making Barry backtrack and practically yank Belén to his side.

"Goodnight," he spat to the drunken journalist, giving a somewhat lighter look at Linda.

"That was something I so did not expect," Belén confided in him after paying the tab and walking out of the bar. "And I...I didn't think I gave him signals to - oh my God, he's gonna think I gave him signals. Oh my God!"

"Bells, it's…" but Barry couldn't really find the right words to say at the moment. He was fighting the urge to go back and punch Noah. At the same time, he saw Belén feeling guilty, like this was her fault.

Belén sighed, speaking without receiving an ounce of comforting. "Can you drop me off at home please? I don't want to think about this."

"Of course," Barry nodded, hoping this would blow over by tomorrow.

Swooping in on Belén's porch was quick and easy. But, much like Caitlin had earlier, Belén was a bit rocky on her feet in the first couple of seconds after coming to a stop. Nearly losing her balance, she latched onto Barry's arms and he grabbed her tighter as well. She chuckled in her embarrassment and looked up, intending on apologizing but she realized how close they had gotten and immediately blushed. Barry too had stopped to look down at her, and for the first time thought about her as above what a 'friend' was to him.

For one, she seemed to easily fit between his arms. He could probably hold her and sway her for hours. Her hair was neatly curled over her shoulders, still looking as if they'd just been done minutes ago. Her blonde tips seemed to shine with the street lights. Even her deep chocolate eyes were looking different to him. For a minute, Barry remembered the last time he'd gotten the same feeling. Right after Oliver and Felicity had come to visit, at Jitters. He never figured out what made Belén seem so different to him that day but he did know that she had looked more pretty than usual. It was the same 'different' that made it harder for Barry to want to stop holding hands with Belén that day. Now that feeling was back and it was stronger.

Even the way Belén was smiling was different but this time Barry knew why. It was still the same soft smile she always had on for everyone, but tonight's smile was causing a swirl of feelings to start in the pit of his stomach. They were tantalizing. He wouldn't have to lean so much to touch her lips with his.

Belén was very aware that she had Barry's face just inches from her but unlike with Noah, she didn't feel uncomfortable. - actually, she felt quite a home. She felt safe. He has taken several bullets for you, she reminded herself. She knew there were moments where she would inevitably steal glances from Barry but who could blame her? He was cute, he was incredibly intelligent - she knew he was far too smart for his own good - and he was far too kind to people even when they didn't deserve it. All this Belén had decided a while ago but she kept it all in the deepest parts of her mind. She thought she had a good handle on it, but then came moments like these. She was too close to Barry and now she could see his perfect features.

Forget 'cute' he's hot, Belén blushed like mad when she thought that. Her eyes dropped from his gaze but that hadn't been the right choice because now she was realizing Barry's lips were right in front of hers. Maybe she could lean just a bit...

You can't! Belén remembered. She couldn't think about him like this. It was Barry, after all, and he deserved someone better. With that mindset, she pulled away, out of Barry's arms, to a safe distance from him. The abrupt action startled Barry but he kept himself in his spot. Belén offered him a small smile from where she stood. "I know it was unplanned, and perhaps not the ideal night out...but I had fun. I'll have to thank Caitlin for that tomorrow...if she can remember."

Barry gave a slight nod, unable to will himself to speed away just yet. Belén moved to unlock the front door, and before going inside, she turned around again, hand on the doorknob.

"You know, if what Caitlin said about you earlier was true...then I don't think you should be afraid of asking that girl out." Belén smiled, and for a split second Barry could swear it was a sad smile. "I think any girl would love to go out with a…" she paused and titled her head to the side, her eyes drifting up in thought, "...a fast-moving, signing scientist."

A smile broke across Barry's face, as well a surge of heat that rushed up to his face. "One could say the same thing about a fast-talking, passionate journalist who can dance in the air."

Belén chuckled, momentarily looking down to cover her own blush. During that moment she missed Barry almost making a move towards her but he stopped himself. He heard Caitlin's words about him all over again. Would he be willing to risk a friendship in the hopes of something more with Belén? Did he consider it worthwhile? Because after all, this was Bells, his fighting partner, his friend.

"Goodnight, Barry," Belén said softly, waving as she turned the doorknob and went inside.

Almost immediately, a deep exhale came out of Barry. His thoughts rearranged in that one second.

Ooh..but this was Bells...

A quirky girl who just happened to make him feel things he hadn't quite understood till then.

~ 0 ~

The next day, Belén came into work like nothing, thanking God she had not drank as much as Caitlin because she was sure a migraine would make things even worse. She was suffering, once again, at work because everyone refused to speak to her. Thinking she knew the Flash and was just being snobby by keeping all the details from them, they left her out of nearly every article being written for the week. If this kept up, Belén was 99.9% sure she would lose her job.

Hell, even Iris was being admitted into the group and she was barely a couple weeks old at the place. But, unlike the others, Iris was far kinder.

"I keep trying to tell them you've got nothing to hide," Iris sighed and crossed her arms, looking disappointed she was failing to help her friend. "But...they're all snobs."

"I learned that on my third day in my internship," Belén in a weak attempt to lighten the mood between them.

"But this is so unfair!"

"Yes, it quite is."

"Belén?" Noah was cautiously coming up to the desk, looking worse for wear. Belén imagined Caitlin looking something like him considering the amount of alcohol they drank last night. "Can we talk?"

Belén gave a small nod and motioned to Iris she'd only be a minute. Moving a safe distance from the desk, she crossed her arms and waited for Noah to begin what she knew must be related to last night.

"I just want to apologize for last night. I...I was so drunk and not right in the head," he clapped his hands together. "I don't want you to think I'm that kind of guy, because...because I'm not. I'm really sorry." He was sure Rayan would kill him if he ever found out what happened last night so Noah hoped to God Belén wouldn't tell her sister about it.

"Now that you got that out of your chest…" Belén started to softly laugh, much to Noah's surprise. "...go get yourself a headache pill because I bet your head is just killing you right now."

"What? You're...you're not mad?" Noah sounded doubtful, and with great reason too.

"I was never mad, because like you said, this wasn't you. I've done my share of bad things when I get drunk. Although I will admit to being caught off guard and a bit uncomfortable."

"I'm so sorry about that. Trust me, it will never happen again. I promise."

"I'm holding you to that," Belén pointed at him with a kind smile. "I think we work best as a writing team."

"Yeah, I think so too."

Belén gave him a last smile before returning to her desk where she was sure Iris was merely pretending she had not heard anything. The woman fiddled with some papers left behind on the desk.

"How much did you hear?" Belén decided to get straight to the point.

Iris dropped the papers and got to business. "Everything. What happened? Where did you go last night?"

"I was at a bar with Caitlin and Barry and we met up with Linda and Noah."

Iris stayed motionless for a couple seconds while Belén went around the desk to take a seat. "What...what were you, uh...what was the reason-"

"It was a friendly get-together, Iris, nothing more," Belén warned before Iris could finish.

Iris began to laugh mirthlessly and whirled around to face her friend. "N-n-n-no, the last time you were out with Barry, you came home with this goofy grin and-"

"Caitlin was there too," Belén reminded sharply.

Iris crossed her arms, now smirking. "Then why are you blushing?"

Belén clapped a hand to her cheek to feel the warmth she didn't realize she was giving off. "Am not." She was definitely not thinking about how close she'd been to Barry last night, nope.

"So are," Iris rolled her eyes. "You guys are slower than sloths."

"Iris...go away, please," Belén said in a hushed voice, preferring no one heard her. Iris shrugged and walked away, but Belén was sure this wasn't the last she would hear of this.

At the same moment, she heard her phone 'ding' on her desk. She didn't know if it was because of what Iris said, or perhaps of what happened last night, but she felt a jolt of nervousness when she read Barry's name written across. It was a simple text message with a simple question - why was she acting like a such a dork?

I'm heading to STAR Labs, do you want a pick up?

Belén smiled and immediately texted a response back.

Yes please! I want to share my video with the others!

Very soon, she got another text back.

...you suck. Be there in a bit.

Belén laughed to herself, acquiring some looks from co-workers passing by. Shyly, she put her phone down on the desk and started gathering her things together.

"Going out?" Noah called upon her, walking by with a file in hand.

"Uh, yes," Belén smiled sadly. "I don't think anybody here really cares if I skip out a couple hours before."

"Hey," Noah put a hand down over hers on the desk, "This will blow over okay? You'll see."

Belén tried to keep his optimism in her heart with a tight smile. "Put in a good word for me, though?"

Noah chuckled. "I will do that as much as I can."

There was a clearing of a throat from a distance. "You ready to go, Bells?" Barry stood there, attempting to hide his dislike as best as possible. He had seen them 'holding hands' from outside and he resisted the idea of speeding in and taking Belén without announcing himself. That was rude...apparently.

"Yes!" Belén exclaimed, then silently questioning herself if that had been too fast of a response. She pulled her hand from underneath Noah's and stood up from her chair, swiping her phone off the desk and dumping it into her bag. "Can you tell Iris I probably won't be back today?" she asked Noah.

"Don't worry," Noah smiled. "See you later," he told both Belén and Barry then walked off with his file.

"Soo…" Barry awkwardly began as they walked out, he letting her out first.

"He apologized," Belén turned to face him, figuring where his thoughts were at the moment. "And I forgave him. He was drunk, and he had no idea what was going on."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. Besides, both he and I agreed we didn't exactly want to go further than...friendship you know. We work fine as co-workers."

"Alright, c'mon. It's time to go see what Caitlin did to get up today."

"I suck apparently?" Belén arched an eyebrow before he could move them.

"Uuh…" Barry thought about a good response but came up with nothing. Instead, he sped them off for STAR Labs and hoped she would forget about it all.

Five minutes after they had gotten to the place, the elevator doors dinged open and out stepped Caitlin in thick black sunglasses clutching a water bottle like her life depended on it.

Holding the urge to laugh after glancing with Barry, Belén stepped forwards to greet her. "Hi there Caitlin-"

Caitlin flinched like Belén had just screamed at the top of her lungs. "So loud. Oh, ho-ho."

Barry stepped up beside Belén, and added, "Everything...okay?"

Caitlin sucked in a small breath. "Let's just say I envy your inability to get drunk. I don't remember much from last night."

She walked past them, heading for the cortex. Belén turned and walked beside her, leaving Barry to do the same. "Well, if you ever want to remember I think Bells has something that could help…" Barry sideways glanced at Belén.

Caitlin, confused, did the same and Belén pulled out her phone from her bag. She pulled up the video of Caitlin's and Barry's karaoke session and waved it at them, mimicking for them, "Summer lovin'..."

"Oh, God," Caitlin gasped in absolute horror. "That I do remember!"

Belén burst out laughing. She only stopped upon entering the cortex room where Cisco and Dr. Wells were, the latter with arms crossed at the former. It was easy to tell something was off.

"What's wrong?" Barry was the first to break the silence.

"Cisco... Has something he needs to tell you," Dr. Wells sarcastically said.

When all eyes turned on Cisco, he took a breath and declared, "Hartley's gone."

Belén gasped. "He escaped again!? How?"

Cisco shook his head and clarified. "I let him out." He took a moment to see how Caitlin was reacting but he was at a loss. "Are you mad? I can't tell with those glasses on."

Caitlin had remained perfectly still throughout the discussion, and for a good reason. "I'd like to yell and wave my arms, but I'm afraid I'd throw up."

"Why? What were you thinking?" Barry exclaimed, completely lost on this ridiculous idea of Cisco's. "You know how dangerous he is."

"Hartley said he knew what happened to Ronnie-"

"I told you to let it go," cut in Caitlin, removing her glasses. "I didn't want you looking into that for me."

"I wasn't doing it for you. I…" Cisco sighed, deciding to come clean once and for all, "I sealed Ronnie into the accelerator before it blew. He told me to wait two minutes, and I waited, but he didn't come back. And I can't stop thinking, 10, 20 seconds and... Ronnie wouldn't be like he is right now. I've wanted to tell you so many times. I'm so sorry."

Caitlin softened up as she went around desk towards him. "So you carried that around this whole time?" Cisco nodded silently. "Do you know what Ronnie would say if he was here? He would say that you did the right thing. It wasn't your fault. What happened that night wasn't anybody's fault. Come on. Don't we have a teleporter to catch?"

"Do we have progress on that by the way?" Belén asked once they had moved on.

"We do," Wells was happy to announce as he went up to the computers. He pulled up a tab of Shawna's cells that were flickering in and out. "Take a look at this. Now, this is the normal behavior of the particulate that Shawna left behind. Watch what happens when we remove light." The tab was exchanged for one of Shawna's cells in a neon green background that now had each cell motionless. "Shawna can only become entangled with something she can see. Take away her ability to do that…"

Barry realized, "She can't teleport."

"So, we just need to get her into a dark space," Caitlin commented and got to thinking. "How do we do that?"

Barry's phone began to vibrate and so he moved a distance to take the call while the others continued discussing.

"It's a valid question," Wells agreed.

"What...we can wait till night and fight her off in the dark?" Belén made faces as no other better ideas were being given at the moment. "Or...turn the lights off."

It was easy to tell something was completely wrong with Barry after he hung up his call. His face was pale and his eyes widened with distinctable fear.

"What's wrong?" Wells asked him instantly.

"M... My dad. He's been stabbed," he shuddered a breath just thinking about it. He was then ushered by the group to go see his father, but one of them - a tall ombre-blonde predicted an angry flare would soon rise and then something would then occur.

~ 0 ~

By the time Barry got the Iron Heights, Joe was already there with Henry, who was put to immediate rest after his injury. "Dad, what happened?"

"A rather stern reminder, I'd say, not to poke around Marcus Stockheimer's business," Henry was none too pleased that the only job he had, had been terminated so quick and easily.

"Dad, I told you to stop-"

Joe cleared his throat before Barry could finish. "Your dad called me with more intel. It helped us track down Clay and Shawna and arrest Stockheimer."

"I managed to screw up Marcus's big heist, too, so…"

Barry looked between the two men in disbelief. "You two kept working together, and you didn't tell me?"

"It isn't his fault. I did it to help you," Henry said before Barry would have a go at Joe. It didn't, however, ease things between him and his son.

"You getting stabbed and beaten is not helping me!"

Henry sighed, knowing Barry had a right to be upset with him. "Look, I... I... I don't get to feel useful very much in here. So if I can help you for a change, I'm gonna want to be there for you. Just like you've been there for me all these years."

Barry hated that he could, on a level, understand that. It was family, after all, that made people do crazy things sometimes.

"You said Marcus had a big heist coming up? Do you know anything else about it?" asked Joe.

"Dad, tell me who did this to you," Barry very much ordered. The anger inside him was flourishing just at the thought of the culprit thinking he could get away with stabbing his father.

Henry shook his head. "No, it doesn't matter, slugger."

Barry moved over to the side of his father's bed. "But you said you want to help me. So help me."

Henry saw that even though he wouldn't say a word, Barry would go on and find the answer himself. With another sigh, he answered, "One of Marcus's boys. Julius."

~ 0 ~

"I should have I bet on it," Belén sighed earnestly after Barry informed them all of how they would be getting some information on Shawna Baez. He'd gotten ahold of a specific inmate and extracted the needed information to get Shawna's location.

"Was that a joke?" Cisco sent her an odd look as she walked past them all ready in her suit.

"Of course…" but the way in which she assured him left him, well...not so sure.

Barry had stopped Shawna and her boyfriend underneath a tunnel and was having trouble keeping her from teleporting. In the car, Clay impatiently waited for Shawna to finish up fighting the metahuman. When Belén arrived, Shawna had just pushed off a construction worker off a machine. As Barry went to rescue the man, Shawna took opportunity and teleported back into the car with Clay.

"We have to get the lights!" Belén told the other speedster, looking up the light bulbs planted on the ceiling in a straight line. Who knew her idea of turning off the lights would become so relevant. She flinched as the car zoomed past her, but she didn't wait for an exact plan either. Thrusting both her hands upwards, she smashed the nearest light bulbs and swung forwards to continue smashing the next ones.

Seeing her plan, Barry sped forwards and passed Shawna's car to take a turn at the end. In a powerful blast, he smashed the front window and forced the car to an inevitable stop. Belén dropped beside the car and opened the car door to find a lonesome Shawna inside.

"...he left me," Shawna whispered, glancing at the now empty driver seat beside her.

"Men," Belén rolled her eyes, and as sorry as she felt for Shawna, she pulled out Shawna to bring her down to the pipeline. A bad relationship did not excuse crimes.

~ 0 ~

Shawna was placed into a cell in the pipeline, and as much as she tried teleporting out of it she would only reappear mere inches from her spot inside the cell. On the other side, which she could apparently not see, stood the rest of the team except Wells.

"Is there any way she can teleport out of this?" Barry curiously asked Cisco beside him.

"She's not looking at us," Belén commented from Cisco's other side, making a face, "So that's a clue…"

"It's one-way glass," Cisco answered the both of them. "It's mirrored on the inside. No one dangerous is ever gonna get out of this thing again."

Belén patted his arm, glad to see he was feeling a little better from his Hartley experience. "Next time don't let them out in the first place," she whispered with a teasing chuckle and walked away with him.

Meanwhile, Barry was going to have one last word with Shawna, at least to make her realize the reality she was now in. "Shawna. Clay left you. He's out there, and you're in here."

Shawna stopped teleporting, and looked to the side in utter disappointment. "You know what the crazy thing is? I still love him."

"Crazy is right," Caitlin made a face as she closed the pipeline down.

"Some people are worth being crazy for," Barry walked her pace back into the cortex.

Caitlin's smile widened in embarrassment. "Look, I'm sorry if I was a bit - well, a lot - of a drunken mess last night."

"Actually, it was pretty fun," admitted Barry.

"Even the part where Bells got a video she can now blackmail both of us with?"

Barry reluctantly gave a small nod. "Sort...of…"

Caitlin chuckled. "I'm also sorry for...pushing things a little too hard on you and Belén. I-it wasn't my place."

Barry took in a breath and motioned her not to continue. "Actually, I'm glad you talked to me and that you got us to the bar. It made me think and it made me realize...that maybe getting out there isn't such a bad idea."

Caitlin nodded her head. "If what Cisco says is true, that Ronnie merged with Martin Stein, then he's not alive anymore. Time for me to move on. Find someone new to be crazy about."

"Crazy thing is...I think I found someone I can be crazy for," Barry smiled to himself. "You think you and Cisco can help me out with a little something?"

Curious of what he had in mind, Caitlin nodded and paid close attention to what Barry was beginning to tell her.

~ 0 ~

"I don't even know why I'm going back there," Belén huffed like a child would, ignoring the laughter from Iris on one side and Linda on her other side while the three walked down the street.

"Because it's your job you worked for years now?" Linda tried to be funny but earned herself a small glare in return.

"I could be sleeping right now!"

"Oh shush!" Iris whacked Belén's arm, rolling her eyes. "And woman up - you are not going to let those co-workers intimidate you out of your own job because they don't believe you."

Belén said nothing more. She was resigned to yet another workday where people would give her dirty looks and scorn at her. All three women stumbled back when a strong force of wind hit them. Two out of the three were familiar with that 'wind', but only one was happy to see the other.

What is he planning? Belén wondered, admittedly concerned, as she turned the corner into an alleyway with Iris and Linda behind her.

As the Flash, Barry stood at the end of the alleyway. He was enjoying the look on Belén's face due because she had no idea what he was doing. "That's for you," he pointed towards a lone file left on top of a dumpster.

"That's the Flash," Linda gaped.

"Why are you here?" Belén could not help the tiny bit of anger in her tone - a concerned anger that Barry recognized. She was probably thinking how stupid it was for him to expose himself to yet another woman.

"I thought maybe you could help me out if you're willing," Barry shrugged oh-so-innocently it tugged a smile out of Belén. She got what he was trying to do.

"Oh, really?" she crossed her arms.

Iris moved behind them to pick up the file designated for Belén and skimmed a couple pages. "This is about the breakout at Iron Heights."

Linda snapped out of her stupor to check the file herself. "Belén do you know how big this is right now!?"

"Yeah, I do," Belén released a breath as she reached for the file herself, eyes still on Barry. "It's the story they're not letting me do right now."

"Why are you giving this to her?" Linda then asked him, no upset of his choice but overall curious. All in the meanwhile, none of them saw Iris discreetly pulling out her phone.

"Because she's an underestimated reporter and I want that to stop," Barry met gazes with Belén, the woman already flushing, "The world needs a woman like her putting the stories out there."

Belén had that look that said 'I'm gonna get you for this' with the widest smile ever. With a rather smug smile, Barry sped out of the alleyway.

"Oh my God, you have met him!" Linda exclaimed, still awed. Belén turned to her friend with a growing smile, taking Barry's plan with a small laugh. He would pull something like this.

~ 0 ~

That night in his lab, Barry got word of how his plan had gone. He'd heard it from Iris earlier and he did his job of pretending to be so surprised. Now he only had to wait for Belén to come see him. So he waited. He was working on a new case when he heard the familiar squeals nearing the lab. Barry jumped out of his chair though seeing how excited he was too, he took the few seconds to calm himself down.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!" Belén ran into the room and went straight for him. "Oh my Goooood!" she threw his arms around his neck and hugged him tight as ever. Pleasant with this sort of greeting, Barry hugged back. "I thank my lucky stars every night for meeting you," Belén whispered, dead serious yet enough to make Barry laugh.

"I take it all is well at work again?"

Belén pulled away slightly to look at him, eyes filled with suspicion yet happiness. "What the hell was that for, Barry Allen? You exposed yourself to Linda Park and you basically confirmed to them that I indeed I know you."

"And they told the others at work right?" Barry asked.

"Well, clearly!" Belén whacked his arm but ended up laughing. "You should have seen Larkin's face when I put my article together with what you gave me. And then when Linda started telling them how I got the story. Suddenly, I'm everyone's favorite now."

"Well, you're my favorite," Barry cheekily smiled, making her laugh.

"And you are my favorite!" she was so happy that she needed to give him another hug.

Barry forced himself to sober up enough in order to find some courage and ask her - as casually as possible - a question. When he pulled away, she was still smiling but more flushed now.

"Bells, you think...do you think we could...I don't know, go get a cup of coffee or...something…?" Yes, that had not been exactly how courageously he wanted to ask but at least the question had been put out there, or so he thought.

"Oh yeah, sure!" she exclaimed, misunderstanding the intention of the question. "We could get everyone down at Jitters and-"

"No, no," Barry gestured that he needed another moment. "I meant...um...do you, maybe, want to have coffee or lunch or...maybe dinner, I don't know...together?" he pointed between them. "Alone."

"Oooh…" Belén's smile faded and her hand gripped the strap of her bag. Her heart hammered under her chest. "...alone…" She looked to the side, so many things popping into her head yet she knew that one thing overrode them all, no matter how many butterflies those other ideas gave her. She couldn't be selfish, not to him.

And so, as much as it pained her, she gave her answer in one word.

“No.”

#barry allen #the flash #ocappreciation #ocapp #barry allen fics #the flash fics #barry allen imagines #barry allen fanfics #the flash imagines #the flash fanfics #caitlin snow #cisco ramon #iris west #oc: Belén Palayta #oc: Belen Palayta #fic: it had to be you

9 notes · View notes

hogwarts-is-frozen · 5 years ago

Text

Fanfic Update - I Wanna Know What Love Is

Summary: Elsa had long ago made peace with the fact she would never find love. The idea of allowing someone to be that intimate with her had been so frightening for so long that she written off the whole thing completely. That is, until a stranger from a distance land throws her entire world upside down. M for swearing and smut in later chapters. F/F and Kristanna

Word Count: 8,221

Rating: M

Chapter 2 - ‘Formalities’ is up and I hope you enjoy :)

"That. Was. Awesome!" Anna exclaimed punching a fist into the air. "Do you think I could get her to teach me how to do that? Whenever I ask Kristoff to teach me to fight he just laughs at me, and the guards are all too afraid you'd freeze them or sack them if they help me."

Elsa, wasn't listening to her sister, she could only look on in stunned silence as she watched the foreign woman snap at the guards before stomping past without even a backwards glace. For some reason the Queen couldn't tear her gaze away as the woman approached a very expensive looking carriage. This proved the woman came from some form of wealth, a little surprising considering what Elsa had just witnessed.

The woman wrenched open the door with such ferocity, Elsa feared she might pull it off the hinges. The driver didn't even have time to get down off his seat before the strange woman and her companion had jumped inside, slamming the door, and barking something at the driver Elsa couldn't distinguish.

And just like that, she was gone. It had all happened so fast Elsa didn't know what to think. She had never seen someone move with such confidence before, let alone a female. This woman had taken down two fully-grown men, and with surprising ease. Elsa had needed the help of her exceptionally powerful magic and (although she loathed to admit it) Prince Hans, to do the same.

Just who was this mystery woman?

xxx

Nia hissed in pain and swore as she did her best to tighten the laces of her corset, but the swelling in her hand was making it very difficult to curl her fingers properly. Conan whined anxiously from his place at in front of the hearth at the sound of her discomfort.

It had been a full day since her encounter with those two brutes back at the public house and the stinging in her right hand had only gotten worse. Despite this however, Nia was in fairly good spirits. She had found a reasonably nice inn just on the outskirts of Arendelle. A family owned establishment, run by a mountain of a man with his wife and three children. Nia could have afforded to stay at one of the finer inns, but this was closest one to the trails that lead into the wilds and the only one that allowed Conan to sleep in her room.

By the time she had finally gotten dressed and arranged her wild curls, Nia was practically jumping out of her skin to get to the mountains and begin her research. However, there were a few formalities she would have to deal with first.

Grabbing her peacoat for the early morning chill and her notebook, Nia made her way to the main hall of the inn.

"Yoo hoo!" called a man standing behind the counter, giving Nia a little wave of his giant hand. "You need some breakfast, ja?"

Nia smiled at the owner, who still wore a brightly coloured sweater and knitted hat despite it being rather warm inside, and waved back.

"Thank you, Oaken, but I really should get going. I have a lot to do today and –"

His wife suddenly appeared with a plate of honey rolls and bacon. "Nonsense, dear. Eat. You're much too thin as it is," she said, tossing a large strip of bacon down to Conan, who snapped it eagerly out of the air.

Nia laughed. "Helga, you sound like my mother," she said picking up one of the mouth-watering rolls, taking a generous bite out of one and stuffing two more into the hidden pockets of her jacket.

"Then an intelligent woman she must be," Helga replied with a wink. "So what is it that has you hurrying about like the Devil himself is clawing at your heels?" she asked, picking up a nearby glass and cleaning it with the apron she wore around her slim waist.

"I'm planning on traveling into the northern foothills tomorrow to see if the rumors I've heard regarding your herds of reindeer are true and I need to find myself a sure-footed horse to get me there," Nia said around a mouthful of bacon. "But before I do any of that, I need to get permission from your Queen."

Xxx

Elsa had to physically restrain from rolling her eyes at the two men bickering in front of her. She had been holding one of her bi-weekly Court sessions, and had been trapped attending to petitioners vying for her attention on one thing or another all morning. Currently, Elsa was listening to a simple dispute over wages between a farmer and his farmhand and they had been going on for almost an hour now. The farmhand claimed that he was not being sufficiently paid for the amount of work he was doing while the farmer argued they had long ago come to an agreement regarding payment. The farmer pointed out that the only reason the younger man wanted to be paid more was because he'd learned that one of his brothers had been earning more than he had, but the farmer could not afford an increase in wages.

Though the young Queen did her best to keep her attention focused on the petitioners, she couldn't help but let her mind wander the longer they went around and around in their argument. This day, she found her thoughts drifting back to the strange woman from the day before. Elsa couldn't say why, but the odd woman had been never been far from the Queen's mind since her return to the castle. Everything about her had been… curious. From the way she'd handled the two men who had assaulted her, to her accent, to the clothing she wore.

Who was she? Where had she come from? And most curious of all, what was her business in Arendelle?

So many questions and no answers, it was enough to make her head spin. Elsa had asked Kai if he knew of any visiting nobility, but he had assured her that none he knew of had docked in Arendelle recently. Only a few merchant vessels and one or two smaller ships.

The young Queen snapped to attention when she realized the two men had finally stopped talking and were now looking expectantly up at her. She hoped they had not noticed her brief mental lapse.

"I have heard enough," Elsa said, schooling her features into a mask of smooth neutrality, as her late father had taught her. She turned her attention to the farmer, "Do you have a written copy of your agreement regarding wages?"

The older man shook his head slowly. "No, Majesty. T'was a simple spoken agreement."

Elsa nodded. "Then there is no proof of what wages were agreed upon."

The young man grinned in triumph… but she was not finished.

"However, there are many young men looking for work and would be only too happy to accept the amount you are able to afford should this man decide he need the increase." She now turned to the farmhand who was no longer looking so victorious. "You must both come to an agreement over what is fair and have a written contract signed by the both of you as well as one other witness." When the younger man looked as though he were about to argue she held up her hand to silence him. "If you feel that you will not be able to come to a suitable agreement then come back and see me. We are always looking for more able-bodied men to help with the ice exports. Keep in mind that it is not easy work, but you would be well compensated."

In the end, the two men left looking appeased for now, if not overly thrilled about her decision.

She sighed and leaned back heavily on her throne, rubbing at her tired eyes while trying not to smudge her carefully applied eye makeup. After regaining her composure, she signaled Kai to retrieve the next (and hopefully last) petitioner. She had not at all expected what happened next.

"Ma'am! Ma'am, I am sorry, but I cannot allow that animal inside the castle! It will have to stay outside. Ma'am!" Came the sound of Kai's voice, followed by a set of purposeful footsteps.

"I have been waiting all bloody morning! And Conan stays with me. Always," another voice said firmly. "Oh, quit your fretting, man, he is better trained than most of the noble brats I've met."

"I beg your pardon! But –"

Kai wasn't able to finish his protest when the two – or rather three, including the canine – of them rounded the corner into the throne room.

Elsa stood, immediately recognizing the owner of the second voice as the woman from the market, although she looked a great deal different than she had the day previous. Today it seemed she had opted to wear something considered more appropriate to her gender. It was a very finely made violet dress hemmed in the same elaborate celtic knots that had been stitched into her earlier outfit. Around her hips sat a thin, silver chain that ran down the middle of her skirt that swayed slightly as she walked. And in the hollow of her slender throat sat a gold pendant that displayed two hands cradling a heart topped with a crown. It was then Elsa realized why this woman looked so familiar to her.

"Your, Majesty I -" Kai started but Elsa just shook her head before he could continue.

"It is alright, Kai," Elsa said, doing her best to reassure the manservant. "I'm sure her companion will be on his best behaviour. "Also, could you fetch Anna for me? I'm more than sure she has forgotten our appointment with the physician today. I'd check the stables first."

Kai hesitated for a few moments, eyeing Conan apprehensively. "Yes, Your Majesty," he said before nodding and striding towards the exit.

Nia took a moment to assess this mysterious Queen of Arendelle. She seemed so very different than the timid, anxious young woman Nia had met those many years ago. This woman carried herself in a way that displayed both her maturity and authority and yet there was still a fragility about her that piqued Nia's curiosity.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Nia said offering a small curtsey and tilt of her head, to which Elsa returned with a nod. "I do assure you that he does exactly as I tell him. Conan, down," she said to demonstrate, for as she gave the command the canine dropped down next to his mistress, looking up at her as if waiting for further instruction.

"Very impressive," Elsa said smiling her approval. "And I must say he really is quite remarkable. Do you mind me asking what kind he is, I've never seen any breed like him in Arendelle? I admit I don't know much about dogs. I was never very good with animals in any capacity really. I think they sensed my magic and so kept their distance."

"Animals are sensitive creatures, Majesty, they do not communicate through verbal speech like you and I, so they use body language and can easily read emotion. It is much more likely that they would sense fears or anxiety rather than magical abilities," Nia said with a reassuring smile. "I would be hard pressed to believe a wonderful gift such as yours would frighten an animal. And, to answer your question, Conan is an Irish wolfhound. A very common breed where I'm from, often used for hunting and to protect livestock. I raised him since he was a pup, runt of the litter if you can believe it."

The Queen blushed at Nia's compliment about her powers. "I must say I do find it rather difficult to imagine that there are bigger ones than him," Elsa chuckled.

Nia smiled. She decided she liked this Queen Elsa. She was easy to talk to and didn't seem prone to speaking down on those below her station, as so many royals often did. And Heavens, Nia had forgotten how lovely she was. She wore a magnificent soft blue gown that glittered in a way that Nia couldn't distinguish what fabric it was made from. No jewels hung about her neck or ears, she didn't need them, for her natural beauty far outshone any gems. The only decoration she sported was a delicate tiara, nestled neatly among her platinum blonde strands, which looked to be cut from glass and shaped like the top half of a snowflake.

But Nia was not there to gawk; she was there for a purpose.

"Forgive me, Majesty. I don't think I properly introduced myself. Or at least you probably don't remember when my father introduced us at your coronation."

Elsa grinned. "Countess Niamh of Castle Dunmore, if I recall correctly."

Nia blinked at the Queen in surprise. "You have quite the memory, Your Majesty."

The Queen shrugged. "I admit I didn't recognize you at first, but then I saw your necklace," she said gesturing to the chain handing around Nia's throat, "and I remembered asking you about it during our first meeting. The claddage, yes?"

"I'm impressed, Queen Elsa. You are correct on both accounts, or at least mostly correct. I simply go by 'LadyNiamh of Dunmore', now," she said. "I relinquished my claim to my father's lands some years ago."

Now it was Elsa's turn to be surprised. "Did you two have a falling out?"

Nia shook her head with a smile. "Hardly, Your Majesty, quite the opposite in fact. It was all done at my request when I became certain my brother was more than equal to the task. I knew the people would be more content with a male heir anyways. The Irish are much more… shall we say, 'traditional' compared to those here in Arendelle, plus it freed me to do what I truly loved."

Elsa felt herself hanging on to every word that fell from this stranger's lips. Drawn to her like an insect to a candle's flame. Nia was like something out of one of her stories – enigmatic and brash. She was so different from Elsa herself, who was so focused on duty and maintaining control at all times, which only served to make her all the more captivating.

"And what is it that you truly love?" Elsa asked, somewhat shyly, almost as if she hadn't meant to ask the question at all.

A contented smile painted Nia's expression and her gaze became unfocused. "To travel," she said, "and to learn all I can about the things that fascinate me most. Which, I suppose, brings me to the reason for my visit to your lovely kingdom."

But before Nia could explain herself further a loud gasp interrupted her.

"Ohmygosh! You! From the market!"

Thoroughly confused, Nia watched as a young woman with the reddest hair she had ever seen and so many freckles Nia could have sworn she was straight out of one of the storybooks her mother used to read her, skipped over to fidget excitedly beside the queen. Her appearance caused Conan to stand up and sniff her curiously - Nia couldn't help but notice the queen had gone very still at his sudden movement - and to Nia's amazement he stepped forward to push his head under the new girl's hand for a scratch.

"Well I'll be," Nia breathed.

"What?" The redheaded asked – who Nia now recognized as the Princess - happily falling to her knees and letting the canine give her sloppy kisses on the chin.

"He only behaves that way with me. And one other time…" Nia said, trailing off.

"When was the other time?" the Princess asked curiously.

"When my sister was… Forgive me, Your Grace, but you- you wouldn't happen to be… expecting, would you?"

Nia watched the surprise arc simultaneously through both women, confirming her suspicions. "I went to visit my sister and her husband when she became pregnant with her first child and it was like he turned into an entirely different dog. He followed her everywhere and was very protective. He even growled at my brother-in-law once," she said, chuckling at the memory.

The princess laughed, where as the queen still hadn't moved. "Such a clever boy, aren't you! Aren't you!" she cooed. "Oh Elsa would you relax, I can practically feel you worrying from here. He isn't going to eat me… although considering how big you are, you probably could. Right big guy?" the younger girl said winking in Nia's direction, forcing the woman to hold back a snort.

"That's not funny, Anna!" The queen scolded.

"It's a little funny. You just have no sense of humor," Anna teased, resulting in a small flush working its way up the Queen's neck.

Elsa tilted her chin up haughtily and folded her arms in a very undignified pout.

"You would never hurt me, would you, big guy? See, Elsa he's a big'ol softie," Anna said as Conan lay down in front of her and rolled on his back so that she could rub the soft underside of his belly. "You only attack big jerks in pubs who try and hurt your mama, don't you?"

Now it was Nia's turn to be surprised. "How - how do know about that?" she asked.

"Anna and I were in the market yesterday and happened to witness your… altercation," Elsa said, a little sheepishly. She still felt a little guilty for not allowing herself to intervene – despite the fact that Nia had been more than capable on her own.

Her shyness then turned into a small smirk. "I believe both my guards' prides are still smarting a little from your interaction."

Nia simply stood blinking at the two royals as the Queen's admission sunk in and she couldn't help the small flush of embarrassment that coloured her cheeks. Brawling with two men after an afternoon of drinking and cards was definitely not the kind of first impression she'd wanted to make. How was she going to gain the Queen's approval now?

She cleared her throat and bowed her head, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "I apologize, Your Majesty, Your Highness," Nia said. "That was… was unbecoming of me. I – I was…"

"It's alright, Lady Niamh." The Queen interrupted gently. "You were simply defending yourself. I only wish you had never been put in that situation in the first place, and I hope it had not tarnished your view of Arendelle's people."

The Irishwoman felt some of the tension in her shoulders ease. "Hardly, Your Majesty. It will take a little more than a couple of common thugs who can't handle losing to a woman at a simple game of cards to soil my opinion of your lovely kingdom." She smiled. "And please, call me Nia."

Elsa returned her smile while the Princess stood up and held out her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Nia!" Anna said brightly, before leaning in and lowering her voice. "But seriously, what you did to those guys was awesome! Could you teach me how to do that?"

Nia's laughter quickly turned into a hiss of pain as she took the Princess' hand. Conan jumped to his feet at the sound, eyeing her with concern.

"Oh my gosh! What is it? Are you okay? I'm so sorry!" Anna said.

"No, No," Nia said. "It's not your fault. It's just my hand, that's all."

The Princess made a pained expression before taking Nia's wrist before she could resist, and examined the appendage. It had turned a lovely assortment of colours and the knuckles had become so swollen that Nia could no longer make a fist. "Yikes. It's from punching that guy in the face, isn't it?"

"It's fine, really," Nia assured.

Elsa stepped forward a little hesitantly. "May I?" she asked.

Nia starred at the Queen's outstretched hand in confusion for a few moments before nodding in understanding.

As gently as she possibly could, Elsa took Irishwoman's hand and held it between her own.

The Queen's hands were soft and smooth – which made sense as everyone knew the monarch had worn gloves almost all her life – and it elicited a response in Nia that she had not been expecting. Gooseflesh raised all along her arms and her stomach did an impressive somersault at the contact.

For a few brief moments the two locked eyes and something passed between the two women that had Nia's mouth suddenly very dry.

She was pulled from her reverie however, when the young Queen suddenly looked away and a soft glow began to emit her palms. Nia watched in rapt fascination as a soothing cold wrapped around her hand and she couldn't stop the sigh of relief that slipped past her lips as the throbbing pain in her joints was reduced to a dull ache.

When the light died away and the warmth returned Nia examined her limb, holding it up to her face and curling each finger experimentally. The swelling had gone down considerably and the flesh felt cool to the touch, as if it had been bound in a healing balm.

"Wow," she breathed. "That's – you're incredible."

The Queen smiled bashfully and simply shrugged. "It's nothing."

"Nothing? It's amazing!"

Elsa merely tucked a loose strand of platinum blonde hair behind her ear, clearly becoming increasingly self-conscious under Nia's awed gaze.

The foreign girl didn't even realize she was staring until the Princess cleared her throat loudly, causing both women to look away from each other and shift awkwardly as Anna watched with a sly grin.

Elsa was the first to regain her composure as she stood more upright and folded her hands in front of her lap. "I apologize, Lady Nia. I'm sure you had actual reason for your visit today?"

"Yes, Queen Elsa. I would like to request your permission to travel the nearby foothills," Nia said.

"Oh?" Elsa asked lifting an eyebrow. "And what is it you will be doing?"

"I am hoping to observe one of your unique reindeer herds in their natural habitat," Nia explained. "Also, if you know of anyone who might be able to help me locate… whyyy are you looking at each other like that?" Nia asked as the Queen and the Princess turned to each other with knowing smiles.

"You are more than welcome to explore the surrounding Arendellian wilds to further your research. And in regards to whom I could offer as a guide, I think I know just the man for the job."

#nicole writes #fanfiction #frozen #i wanna know what love is #OC #F/F #Kristanna #queer elsa

13 notes · View notes

jbuffyangel · 6 years ago

Text

Disloyalty: Arrow 7x20 Review (Confessions)

Is anyone feeling like the ramp up to the season finale is lacking ramp up? Cause I do.

Also, it’s time to talk about D*nah.

Let’s dig in…

D*nah Dr*ke

The fact I’m starting with D*nah and not with Felicity or Olicity really says it all doesn’t it? Where should the priorities be right now given that it’s Emily Bett Rickard’s final few episodes? Hint: IT’S NOT D*NAH DR*KE.

“Confessions” employs a well known cinematic story telling device called the “Rashomon Effect.” It’s named after a 1950 film where a murder is described in four contradictory ways by four witnesses. Cool right? Yes, it’s a wonderful way of showing how an individual’s perspective, and self interests, can warp “the truth.” One of the best films to employ this technique is called Courage Under Fire. It stars Denzel Washington, Meg Ryan and Matt Damon. Watch it. Thank me later.

I think the Arrow writers are using the Rashomon Effect in “Confessions” but that doesn’t mean it’s effective. The episode has the same problem as “Spartan.” It’s placement in the season is bizarre. “Confessions” would work much better if it aired in the 10-15 episode range, but as one of the final it’s kind of a snoozer. I was super bored. Bored and annoyed. That’s me.

“Confessions” is a looooooot of exposition. Two guards have been murdered and once again Oliver Queen & Co. stands accused. My irritation begins with the Star City Police Department. At this point these ungrateful and disloyal twiddle dinks deserve everything the Ninth Circle has coming to them. My firm belief is Oliver and Felicity should dump this Emiko mess on SCPD’s lap, get the hell out of town and raise their family in peace. But they won’t do that because they are “heroes.” Their selflessness is super annoying.

The good news is our Parkour Prince and Olicity’s first born son Roy Harper is back in town! Oh how I have missed that perfectly sculpted jaw line.

Source: arrowdaily

The big question of course is who killed the two guards? I mean… I guess I care.

I’m not completely heartless. It’s sad the two guards are dead, but we already know Oliver didn’t do it. Neither did Felicity or Diggle. D*nah is investigating, so I’m assuming that puts her in the clear. So that leaves Rene, Roy or Emiko.

We can boil this list down even further given how shifty Roy is acting and the fact we know he’s living on a deserted island twenty years in the future. It’s either Roy or Emiko. I’m five minutes in and I’ve already figured out 95% of the plot. Yawn.

Every character gets their turn in the hot seat with D*nah and Sergeant Bingsley (isn’t that a great name?), who pretty much hates Oliver.

Source: smoakmonster

I’m not going through every single character’s perspective on the events in question mostly because it’s pretty boring (save for Felicity). Oliver, Felicity, Diggle, Roy and Rene’s details vary but all their stories arrive at the same conclusion – they didn’t do it and Oliver’s terrorist sister probably did.

Source: smoakmonster

This leaves us with one of two options – either Oliver & team are telling the truth about Emiko or they are covering for someone on the team i.e. Roy. Here’s where we arrive to the crux of my problem with “Confessions.”

D*nah Dr*ke.

The whole story hinges on D*nah either being a disloyal jackass or the audience believing she’s a disloyal jackass. Neither option says very good things about her character.

Oliver is sorry about the guards, but the team stopped a terrorist act so they are ahead by the numbers and boy he ain’t wrong! Yeah I know. Every life matters but also THEY STOPPED A TERRORIST.

D*nah and the SCPD’s evidence against Oliver is the guard’s were killed by emerald green arrows. DUN DUN DUNNNNN!!!! It’s too bad there isn’t another vigilante dressing like the Green Arrow running all over town. OH WAIT THERE IS.

D*nah and Oliver fess up to knowing the identity of the New GA and he admits Emiko is his half sister. Oliver seems extremely reluctant to name his sister as the murderer. D*nah and Bingsley believe Oliver is protecting Emiko, so it feels legit when he quietly confesses she killed the guards. She is the reason Oliver is lying and stonewalling, so Bingsley (kind of) buys his story. Quite frankly this is a stroke of genius. My boy was on fire with the plans tonight!

Long story short, Roy killed the guards in a fit of bloodlust rage, but Oliver is ride or die for his boy and insists the team cover for him.

Source: smoakmonster

However, Oliver’s plan is completely dependent on D*nah accusing her teammates of murder to misdirect the investigation, so he can casually/not so causally point the finger at Emiko.

Source: smoakmonster

We spend much of the episode listening to D*nah say, “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” and, “I want to believe you Oliver but you gotta admit this looks really bad,” because the arrows are green.

Me: Holy hell woman. He went to prison for you. What more does he have to do to inspire some friggin loyalty from you?

Oliver argues pretty much all of my words because he feels me on a spiritual level. He didn’t do it. D*nah should know him better than that. And all he gets is her stony face and judgmental eyes. I mean, God forbid Oliver Queen make the department look bad!

The reason Oliver used D*nah this way is because she’s been judgmental and disloyal all season long. She barely lifted a finger to help Felicity get Oliver out of prison, she arrested Rene for being a vigilante and was up Siren’s ass all the time. (Okay, that last one was warranted.) Her primary worry is holding on to her job as captain. And don’t even get me started on Season 6.

Felicity: Oh you mean when Ricardo Diaz kidnapped Roy to turn him against Oliver? You might have forgotten about that since you weren’t exactly on speaking terms with Oliver and I at the time.

BOOM. Felicity Smoak is my level of petty. I love it. Drag her sis.

At first, I thought the writers were going with Plan A – Emiko killed the guards. So, my irritation with D*nah and her constant blame game when it came to Team Arrow’s actions were at an all time high. I’m not kidding. I want Siren back. Can we do a Canary exchange? E2 gets D*nah . At least the writers have picked a personality with this version of LL. I’ve gone from advocating for Laurel’s death to missing her newest incarnation. This is a full circle moment.

D*nah has many of the character problems E1 L*urel had. The writers are 100% committed to assassinating her character whenever the plot deems necessary. There’s really no other explanation for D*nah’s flip flopping personality and constant suspicions of Oliver Queen. We’ve been here before.

I know for many outside fandom this Roy reveal was an extremely great GOTCH YA,

but I think fandom was on to Roy + rage = Lazarus Pit since the beginning of the season. It’s fine. We’re a very difficult group to surprise because we pay attention to all the itty bitty details a casual viewer blows right past. That wasn’t my annoyance with the episode.

My annoyance is the writers knew I would be annoyed with D*nah and believe she is selling out the team.

Sometimes Arrow is very self aware and this is one of those moments. They know fans are frustrated with the character and yet instead of fixing it they lean into it.

D*nah is blaming and accusing Oliver every other week. Her behavior really hasn’t changed that much from Season 6. So, the one time she’s on board with Oliver’s call I’m supposed to rejoice? No.

Sorry, particularly when the writers use her awfulness to sell the ruse. IF YOU KNOW SHE IS AWFUL THEN WHY DON’T YOU FIX IT?

I couldn’t even be happy about D*nah being “one for all and all for one” because she continues to bitch about protecting Roy to Oliver after they are cleared by the police.

D*nah: Two innocent people died and we’re covering it up.

Oliver: D*nah is someone on this team goes down then this entire team goes down.

Felicity and Diggle also make strong arguments about sitting in lock up while Emiko wreaks havoc on the city. OTA is strongly #TeamProtectRoy.

Source: lucyyh

Rene: But Roy’s not a part of this team. He’s been gone for months doing who knows what.

Oliver: With due respect, you don’t know what he’s been through. Roy is and will always be as much a part of this team as the rest of us.

D*nah: Except the rest of us don’t go around killing innocent people.

OKAY NEW KIDS. You’ve been going here for two stinking years whereas Roy has been around since Season 1. RESPECT YOUR ELDERS.

I understand D*nah and Rene don’t have a personal connection to Roy, but when the guy who went to prison for you vouches for him then that’s all they should need. PICK A SIDE. Are you on this team or are you out? If you’re on the team then fall in line.

One thing I will always love about Oliver Queen is his LOYALTY. Roy sacrificed everything for Oliver, so he doesn’t even blink at two dead guards.

Roy was clearly out of his mind, so the Newbies need to take a beat and follow the leader. Maybe you don’t know Roy, but they should know Oliver by now. And that’s the essential problem. Do Rene and D*nah trust Oliver Queen? No. I don’t think they do. Not fully. So what the hell are they doing here?

Also, has D*nah completely forgotten she is also a murderer? Because I haven’t.

The difference between Roy and D*nah is she doesn’t have bloodlust as an excuse. She was of sound mind and body when she pulled the trigger, so I really need her to shove the moral condemnation.

The entire reason this episode focused so much on D*nah is because she has been the character most predisposed to disloyalty this season. The entire reason this ruse worked on any kind of level with the audience is because we believed D*nah’s disloyalty. The entire reason Oliver knew the plan would fool the police is because D*nah’s disloyalty is believable. That is a very big problem. She is not a character I root for anymore and what’s even sadder is the writers don’t seem to care.

Roy Harper

I’m not putting my frustrations with “Confessions” all at D*nah’s feet. Now is the time to take a long and hard look at our problematic son Roy Harper.

Here’s how the episode should have gone:

Roy: I died, Thea dipped me in the Pit and we used the Lotus Elixir, but I still have rage issues because Mirakuru is forever screwing me over.

Oliver: Cool.

Then, Dad would send son out into the field with a babysitter. Kind of like a buddy system. By the way, didn’t they use the only Lotus Elixir on Thea in Season 3? Me thinks yes, but apparently Nyssa has access to a whole lotus garden now.

What’s hilarious about this is Oliver used the Pit on Thea, she used the Pit on Roy and L*urel used it on Sara. And yet they adamantly refuse to use it on L*urel. Nyssa has plenty of Lotus Elixir and Constantine is flying around time with Sara, but they still won’t resurrect her character. Oh Arrow. I see your petty and I love it.

(Yeah I know they aren’t resurrecting Moira, Tommy, Robert, etc. but none of those people are actively seeking employment on the show.)

Anywho, back to Roy. Oliver brought him back to town because Emiko doesn’t know who he is and he could be their ace in the hole. Also they needed someone really good are parkour.

The writers addressed the “Why not Thea?” question, but Oliver’s answer left something to be desired. He’s not going to tell Thea about Emiko until she’s in custody?

Uhhh… okay. I understand Oliver not wanting to drag Thea back into the Star City drama, but he could pick up the phone and let her know what’s going on. I’m not comfortable with a lie by omission. Would Thea come running home if she knew about Emiko? Yeah, maybe but I feel confident they could cook up a Lazarus Pit emergency instead of Oliver lying to his sister. Again.

This is 99.99% Roy’s fault and I’m glad Oliver holds him responsible for keeping a secret like this. It is possible to love and protect someone while holding them accountable. It doesn’t have to be either or.

This is what loyalty, friendship and team work looks like. D*nah and Rene could learn a few things from Oliver Queen.

Felicity Smoak and Olicity

It’s frustrating we’re on episode 20 and I’m spending 95% of my review talking about D*nah and Roy. I have long ago accepted Arrow is never going to focus on Felicity Smoak and Olicity to the level I would like them too. I’ve let that anger die many moons ago. However, I do occasionally get frustrated and this is one of those episodes. The need to use Felicity Smoak to her max potential seems even more urgent because of Emily’s impending exit.

And yet, Arrow remains Arrow. They won’t shift from standard operating procedure even now. Generally speaking, the big Olicity moments happen in the premiere, mid season finale/mid season premiere and season finale. I get it, but EMILY IS LEAVING.

It’s time to chuck the SOP. Granted they’ve focused on Felicity more than ever have before, but this kind of exposition episode and focus on secondary characters would have been an easier pill to swallow if it came earlier in the season. But 7x20?

Maybe there’s an explanation for that and maybe there’s not. I don’t know for sure, but as a viewer it frustrates me.

Upside: We watched Felicity eat a bunch of yummies and be her perfect, adorable self.

Source: lucyyh

She almost told Roy she was preggo and Oliver had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing.

Source: felicitysmoakgifs

Her feelings about Rene are the same as mine and it gives me life.

Source: smoakmonster

We end on a cliffhanger with a worried wifey freaking about bae.

Source: olivergifs

And her hair is its own storyline. Wow.

Source: smoakmonster

The fact these are the only real moments I have from one of Felicity’s final episodes is sad to me, but I appreciate them nonetheless. Despite my love, Arrow is an imperfect show and it will remain so until the very end.

Stray Thoughts

Tweet of the night.

THEA IS HAPPY. DO NOT TOUCH MY CHILD WRITERS.

It’s entirely possible Roy goes to Lian Yu because he can’t find a cure for the bloodlust and cools his heels there for the last 20 years. Pretty much anything is better than the writers killing Thea, so if it protects my Theroy happy ending then I’ll get behind it. They are literally dumping characters in Pauseville until the series finale and I am here for it.

Do Thea and Roy both have a red hooded jacket or do they sharesies?

Look I get Rene is in love with Emiko, but she's trying to murder her brother on the regular for stuff Robert Queen did so this whole “family is important to her” stance he is taking is completely laughable. Will anyone on this show ever make sense? Oh right. Felicity AND SHE IS LEAVING.

Oliver is making a shocking amount of sense. Fully realized superhero Oliver is so unnerving. EPIC MOMENT. Source: olivergifs

I'm glad Emiko finally dropped the Gambit bomb. Pun intended. Oliver needs to know the evil sister has been plotting since S1 because full circle baby!!!

Me: It's gonna take a lot more than dropping a building on him to kill Oliver Queen.

Also me: SOMEONE SAVE HIM!!!!!!!! THERE'S TOO MANY TOMMY MEMORIES AND I CAN'T HANDLE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MAKE IT STAHP!!!! Source olicitygifs

The final five minutes were good and delivered an action packed punch, but man it was a slow ride to get there. Time to pick up the pace Arrow! We’re almost to the finish line.

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me. 7x20 gifs credited.

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

#arrow #arrow 7x20 review #arrow 7x20 #anti dinah drake #roy harper #anti rene ramirez #anti laurel lance #felicity smoak #oliver queen #olicity #arrow spoilers #arrow reviews #arrow season 7 #arrow season 7 reviews #season 7 episode review #season 7 episode reviews

52 notes · View notes

carmenlire · 6 years ago

Text

Drag Me Out Alive

read on ao3

He’s always had dreams.

They aren’t visions-- he insists to himself that he just has a vivid imagination, that his life gives itself over to dreamscapes that seem fantastical and too good to be true and altogether unrealistic.

Still. There’s a part of himself that just can’t help but wonder if the dreams are part premonition, part threat.

When he was younger, Izzy had persuaded him to sneak out of the Institute one fall evening. The wind had been bitterly cold and leaves had danced along the pavement as they’d walked down abandoned sidewalks. For New York, there had been a noticeable lack of people milling about but Alec had shrugged it off and chalked it up to the fact that it was one of the coldest days of the season so far.

Isabelle had led them unerringly to a psychic’s parlor. Alec had scoffed-- couldn’t help but make his opinion on their destination clear-- but Izzy had just elbowed him in the side and declared that according to Google, this was the best place in the city to see one’s future.

Who the hell would want to know their future, Alec had groused. We’re shadowhunters, Iz, and I’d rather not know that I’m going to die when I’m barely out of the Academy.

Rolling her eyes, Isabelle had walked backwards towards the door to the building. She’d looked at Alec, equal parts exasperation and excitement.

That’s the beauty of it, Big Brother. There’s a whole world out there just waiting for us and I want to make the most of it.

With a long suffering sigh that they were both overwhelmingly familiar with, Alec had followed his sister inside.

The door creaked on its hinges. A washed out gray, Alec had taken one look at the faded sign and felt something slither up his spine. Shamdon’s Sight.

The name isn’t familiar and Alec can’t place the etymology, even though he’s fluent in a number of languages, both demonic and mundane.

Shaking his head impatiently, Alec scolds himself. Isabelle just wanted to get her palm read and this whole damn thing is nothing but a farce.

Try as he might, Alec can’t quite convince himself that he’s telling the truth.

The room is dark and smells of spice and incense and dust. Everything looks cheap, well-used. Whoever Shamdon is, they aren’t making a lot of money and that tells Alec all he needs to know.

They walk past the empty reception area and head directly to one of the side rooms. There’s a woman there and Alec’s eyes almost pass her by before he realizes.

She looks perfectly nondescript. Her face folds into a million wrinkles and her rouge borders on obscene. Lipstick runs into the crevices next to her lips and her eyes are sunken in but hold unfathomable depths. Across the room, they meet Alec’s and his breath catches for a split second.

It’s all part of an act, he tells himself. This woman dresses the part and appearances are everything in her line of work.

Welcome, she greets and gestures to one of the chairs across from her. She lays a lingering glance on Alec but moves on to Isabelle quickly enough, dismissing him.

I only work with one person at a time, darling. Leave us be and your companion will come get you when we’re done.

Isabelle had urged Alec to leave without protest silently, glaring and gazing pointedly at the door with pleading eyes.

With a last glance, Alec had complied. He doesn’t know what it is but this entire place makes him uneasy. Dread wraps around his lungs no matter how much he tells himself to calm down. It doesn’t make sense and Alec’s never liked things that he couldn’t neatly compartmentalize.

He stands outside and sinks into the cold. Huddling in his leather jacket, he glares at his surroundings. He’s nineteen and feels ancient. His life rolls out before him, a long line of patrols and mission reports and hiding a piece of himself that’s more heartache than work.

Jace is a never-ending pain in his ass and he’s always worrying about Izzy, no matter that she’d kick his ass if she knew. His parents are always fighting-- he hears the hissed whispers and hushed arguments-- and he’s so damned tired most days that it’s a wonder he makes it out of bed.

He smiles but its sardonic. The dreams don’t help, he privately acknowledges.

Since he was a boy, Alec’s dreamed. They always seem so vivid-- splashing colors and flashing images-- but as soon as he wakes, they disintegrate into fragmented memories. He only has impressions during the day: gold eyes, black veins, a pervasive sense of freedom. When he was a child, they were a comfort. At five years old, the dreams were an adventure. He’d imagined that he was a soldier come to slay the dragon and rescue his people.

As he grew older though, the dreams started morphing. When he’s in the grip of a dream, it’s all he knows-- his reality zeroes into the way the light hits an opaque vial, to raw screams that sound hauntingly like his own.

The dreams are ominous and chill him down to the bone because he doesn’t know what they mean. He’s never told anyone-- will never tell anyone what waits for him when he sleeps-- but no matter that there’s a part of him that’s afraid, there’s still a piece that feels drawn to the dreamscape.

The screams are cathartic, the way the vial absorbs the light entrancing. Alec has these dreams frighteningly regularly but they’re a comfort, too. They’ve been part of him since he was old enough to remember them and even if he’s never been able to put it all together, it’s a puzzle he never tires of.

Cold seeps through his jacket as Alec loses himself in the mystery. He’s startled, then, when the front door bangs open and Isabelle comes striding out. On the surface, she’s as calm as ever, but Alec can tell she’s shaken-- it’s in the tremors of her arms, the way she glances carefully at her surroundings.

Are you okay?

With a curt shrug, Isabelle looks back at the door and crosses her arms over her front. I’m fine, she insists. It’s just that . . .

Alec waits her out, in the meantime studying her carefully. Izzy is rarely rattled but whatever the fraud had told her had gotten under her skin.

She lets out a breath before meeting Alec’s eyes. She told me that my hubris would be my downfall and that I’d find my love in the most unexpected of circumstances.

Raising a brow, Alec had asked, Did she give you a name? A description of this soulmate?

Mouth a terse line, Izzy had responded, All she’d say was that love takes many forms and that the line between friends is blurred.

Alec had scoffed. There you go, Iz, that’s a platitude if I’ve ever heard one. I hope you’re not paying attention to vague claims made by a charlatan.

Glaring, Isabelle had shoved at his shoulder. You go then, and tell me what she says doesn't feel like the truth.

Rolling his eyes, Alec had pushed off from the brick wall and glared at his sister before entering the shop again.

The woman was right where’d he’d last seen her and he feels a pull towards her that he can’t quite explain. So, he tamps down the feeling and tells himself that it’s just his imagination and Izzy getting into his head.

He sits down and the old woman tracks his movements with sharp eyes.

What is it that you want to know, young shadowhunter?

Alec looks into her steady gaze and feels like she’s peering into his soul. Shifting uncomfortably on the wooden chair, he merely offers, I want to know why I should believe anything you say.

He waves away the fact that she knows he’s nephilim-- most psychics in the city had the sight and all it proves is that she has learned to make the most of her negligible gift.

The woman laughs warmly and sounds like someone half her age. It sounds weirdly familiar but Alec can’t place it and shakes his head when a headache starts to form.

You’re skeptical-- I like that. It means you won’t run to do anything rash, that your heart beats steady and stable.

Leaning forward suddenly, she grabs Alec’s wrist in a formidable grip and her gaze sears into his. I’ll tell you this, nephilim, you might prove yourself yet.

Taken aback, Alec can only frown. He tenses in her grip but feels no give. It’s like iron bands around his wrist and he wonders what the hell kind of game she’s playing.

She studies him with a calculating air. Unease drips down his spine and he shivers in her hold.

Good, she says quietly. You should be afraid. And do you know why, darling?

Alec can’t explain it but that twisted term of endearment burrows its way into his chest, wraps around his heart and squeezes until it feels like he’s suffocating.

One day, we will meet again and when we do, you’ll have a choice to make. We’ll see if you’re so sure and steadfast when that day comes, Alexander.

His wrist is released as suddenly as it was snatched and Alec stands quickly, the chair behind him crashing backwards to the floor.

It’s strange but he doesn’t feel threatened-- he doesn’t fear that presence, no matter how unsettling the encounter was.

The two of them stare at each other and Alec doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let his expression give anything away as he nods once and turns on his heel, heading toward the door.

Isabelle is waiting outside for him and he doesn’t pause to talk as he starts striding toward the Institute.

Izzy doesn’t say anything, seems to caught up in her own thoughts, and leaves Alec to his.

He doesn’t know who the hell that woman was or what she was trying to accomplish. All he knows is that she shouldn’t have gotten under his skin like this. As Alec nears the Institute, his sister at his side, he finds that he can’t quite remember the look of the woman. The details are blurred at the edges and he shakes his head, impatient.

By the time he gets to his room and draws a locking rune mechanically, he doesn’t remember the woman at all.

When he falls into bed that night, the afternoon is a hazy memory that he can’t quite grab onto. Sleep drags him under and with it the dreams come. There’s a man that calls out Alexander in hushed, reverent tones and a fire in the background that burns in twisting shades of black and white.

Alec relaxes in his seat. It’s a sunny summer morning and for the first time in days, the tension bleeds out of his shoulders. If it’s not one thing it’s another and Alec is so fucking tired of Jace and his mother and the whole damned world that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

One of the new recruits had almost gotten themselves killed last night and as Alec takes a bracing sip of his coffee, he wonders what it’d be like.

Shadowhunters reconcile death with life before they take their first runes. Alec’s always been willing to die for the cause, the raison d’etre that all shadowhunters were made to shoulder but that doesn't stop him from wondering about the after.

This sidewalk cafe is cheerful and worlds away from the dank oppression of the shadow world but Alec wonders that it hasn’t tainted his very skin. He might be the Head of the Institute and he might have found his own form of sunlight in one Magnus Bane but he wonders if it’s all meant to last or if it’s just a temporary reprieve.

Lost in his thoughts, Alec doesn’t realize that someone’s sitting across from him until he hears the tap of a cane against the concrete. He looks up and immediately freezes.

The man looks familiar but not in a way that he can pin down. It seems like he’s shrouded in shadows, even when the sun shines brightly down on them both and Alec feels an uneasy scratch between his shoulders.

“What do you want,” he asks and shifts subtly for his glamoured blade.

The man chuckles. It’s warm but fills Alec with warning. He has a flash of memory-- a psychic in Lower Manhattan-- but it’s gone almost before it’s formed.

He doesn’t answer and Alec doesn’t press. The man is attractive if perfectly nondescript. He’s dressed plainly but in well-tailored clothes and Alec can’t pin down his accent, no matter that he’s toured institutes on every continent.

Continuing to tap his cane, the man looks thoughtful. “It’s not what I want, I assure you,” he finally says.

His gaze focuses on Alec’s and whatever Alec sees makes the breath shudder in his chest.

It’s awareness. It’s knowledge that Alec can never hope to have and he wonders who the hell the man in front of his.

“And what is it that you don’t want,” Alec asks. His tone might be perfectly perfunctory but that doesn’t mean that his mouth isn’t dry as seven devils.

The man stares at him with amused eyes before he chuckles. “I want you to go back to wherever you came from. I want you to release your greedy little grasp on what’s mine. But alas,” he sighs before staring shrewdly at Alec. “It’s not meant to be and I just have to bide my time.”

He says those last words like they’re vile little things, like he’d rather kill a dozen men than wait futilely on the sidelines.

“Who are you,” Alec asks, pulse thrumming against his throat. He takes a lingering sip of his coffee to hide how unnerved he is but can see the way the man’s eyes focus on his barely trembling fingers.

“You don’t know who I am?” The question is sneering with the faintest hint of bite. Alec thinks he sees the man’s eyes flash before they’re the same pedestrian brown as before. The rhythmic tempo of the cane stops. In the silence, their eyes clash and distantly Alec swears he hears the sound of dull roaring and the shriek of blade against blade.

“You’ll know who I am soon enough, shadowhunter. Until that day, I’ll remind you of our past encounter. You have a choice to make and I will only offer my assistance once. I know you, you see,” he taunts softly. “You would blow up the very ground you stand upon to save those you love and someone new has wriggled their way into your good graces.”

“We’ve met before? Funny how I don’t remember you.” Alec’s voice whips through the air, quiet yet contemptuous. He doesn’t know who the man in front of him but he doesn’t like his gall. Alec is made of sterner stuff than a strange man crying out dire warnings.

As though he can read Alec’s mind, the man smiles but it’s cold and forbidding. “All in due time, young nephilim.” His expression morphs suddenly into something hungry and devastating. “Want to know a secret, Alexander?”

Recoiling at the name, Alec studies the stranger with new eyes. What the hell?

The man leans close and raises his cane to tip Alec’s chin up. “One day, you’ll come to me to save him and I will do it-- for the right price. We’ll see what happens on that fateful day.”

Standing, the man starts walking away. Unbidden, Alec can’t help but call out to the retreating figure as ice crawls up his back.

“Who the hell are you and why should I believe a damned thing you have to say?”

The man stills before he looks over his shoulder. “I’m your fate, dear Lightwood. Time will tell whether you’ll thank me or curse my very existence. Sweet dreams, boy.”

With that, he turns back and resumes his retreat. Alec looks down with a shuddering breath but glances up a split second later only to freeze.

The man has vanished between one step and the next and Alec can’t find him no matter how long he studies the people around him.

Settling back in his chair, Alec reaches for his coffee with shaking hands. The man, the things he said-- Alec doesn't know what to think.

Standing, he leaves a tip for the waitress and walks away from the cafe in a daze, coffee unfinished and sunny day ruined.

He sees shadows wherever he looks and wonders what the fuck just happened. Heading to the loft, he takes a shower, feeling distinctly if stupidly unclean, and thanks the angel that Magnus is out on house calls for the day.

He spends most of the day thinking about the man and how he could have known his name. His taunting premonitions make Alec’s skin crawl but Christ if he knows what to do about it. However, there’s a piece of him that isn’t justifiably creeped out-- there’s something in him that yearns to know more, wants to reach for whatever that man is alluding to but damned if he knows why.

Resolutely, he decides the man had been mad, had been rambling and looking for a willing ear. Nothing else makes sense and Alec feels the beginning of a headache every time he tries to pull everything together.

He falls into bed in the warm afternoon sunshine and surrenders to sleep almost immediately. In his dreams, he smells the fires of the damned and feels tears on his cheeks as he accepts an offer in a sure, steadfast voice.

This is a nightmare, he thinks a little wildly.

Magnus is weak, he’s fading and aging and there’s not a good goddamned thing Alec can do for him.

Well. That’s not true.

He remembers a man with flashing eyes and an ebony cane. As he looks into Magnus’s face, into gold irises with slit pupils, everything comes crashing over Alec and his knees almost give out at the realization.

“Asmodeus,” he whispers and it’s like he’s been summoned, like he’s just been waiting for Alec to utter his name.

“Alexander.”

The Institutes alarms are sounding off but Alec doesn’t pay them any mind. He hears frantic knocking on his office door but all he can focus on is the two men in his office.

Magnus, his boyfriend, writhing on the ground as his eyes roll back in his head.

Asmodeus, leaning negligently against his desk, that damned cane resting under stacked hands. He observes the tableau in front of him with apathy but even in his devastation, Alec sees satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

Leaning over Magnus, Alec looks up at Asmodeus. “Magnus needs his magic back.”

His voice is quiet with a hint of desperation lingering under the words. Asmodeus smiles.

“I can give him what he needs,” he says easily. “Whatever I’ve taken is just as easily replenished.”

Pausing, he studies Alec for a few moments. “My help comes with a price, though, young shadowhunter. Are you--”

“Do it.”

He looks taken aback but his eyes are unsurprised. “You haven’t heard my terms, Alexander.”

“Then why don’t you tell me them so I can agree,” Alec grits out.

Chuckling, Asmodeus complies. “Very well, then.”

He’s still leaning carelessly on Alec’s desk and Magnus is still losing his fucking life in front of him and the Institute’s alarms are still raising bloody hell. With a wave of his hand, the alarms silence in the office and the sudden quiet is stark. Alec hears Magnus’s labored breathing and the crackle of his fireplace. He looks up and when he meets Asmodeus’s eyes, he stills for a moment.

Gold eyes stare back at him, at once threat and salvation.

“I will give my son his magic back. I will make him hale and whole again-- you, however,” he trails off. His smile this time is cruel and cuts to the quick. “You I will make immortal. You will remain one of your dreaded kind but you will never age and you will never die. You will forever remain as you are-- tied to Magnus, to me, and I will watch as you grow bitter and resentful. That is the price, shadowhunter. That is what I will take in exchange for saving your love’s life.”

Opening his mouth, Alec doesn’t get a chance to say anything before Magnus is clawing at his arm. Looking down, Alec’s heart feels flayed open.

“Alexander,” Magnus mutters. “Don’t do it. Don’t make this deal, not for me. You don’t know what he’s asking, darling. You don’t know what he’s capable of-- do not accept.”

Magnus ends his entreaty with a pleading look but as Alec studies his boyfriend, he’s reminded of the quiet confession he’d made all those weeks ago.

I don’t think I can live without you.

He sees his heart in Magnus’s eyes and knows that his choice is hardly a choice at all.

Leaning down, he lays the softest of kisses on Magnus’s lips. He’s still now, laying on the ground with tears and fatal acceptance swimming in his eyes.

“I love you, Magnus.”

Magnus closes his eyes at the whispered admission. Without opening, he replies in a hoarse voice, “I love you too, Alexander.”

It’s the hardest thing that Alec’s ever done, standing from Magnus when he’s hurt, when he goes limp in exhaustion and pain as the loss of his magic ravages his body from the inside out.

He does it, though, and isn't ashamed when his own tears spill over. Alec stands and sways on his feet. Swallowing hard, he straightens and takes a single step towards Asmodeus, who’s watching him with amused eyes.

“I will only ask once, Alexander. Do you accept the terms of my deal?”

“Yes.”

It seems like the ground shakes and Asmodeus finally pulls away from the desk. He pulls out a vial from his jacket and holds it up so that it catches the late afternoon light. It’s pitch black, dark as hell, and it’s another piece of dreamscape returned to him.

“A deal is a deal, shadowhunter.”

In the time that it takes for Alec to reach out and take the vial, he relives a million memories and mourns a thousand deaths. He’s sure, though. He’s never been so sure of anything in his life. Anything is worth saving Magnus and that’s a conviction that Alec knows will never fade-- not with all the time in the world.

Uncorking the vial, he takes one last look at Magnus before switching his gaze to Asmodeus. It’s almost to his lips before he abruptly pulls it back, Asmodeus watching him with a faint smile.

“How,” he asks. “Why.”

Sighing, Asmodeus studies him and Alec feels his eyes linger on his deflect rune, on the necklace that was a gift from his son.

“There have been rumbling for millennia about the shadowhunter child that would aspire to immortality. It wasn’t until you were born, though, that angels and demons alike knew the fated nephilim had arrived,” he says thoughtfully. He looks at Alec with shrewd eyes. “I see all, young shadowhunter. I know future as well as past and I could see the connection that would form between you and mine.”

He laughs but it’s sardonic. “Those dreams were a way to reach you, to test your loyalty. You’ve always been so strong,” he marvels mockingly. “You dealt with the dreams and I could feel the yearning in you. I knew it was only a matter of time until circumstances pressed your hand and I vowed to be there when it did.”

“Why,” Alec manages. “Why do you care so much?”

“Don’t you see, Alexander? Immortality is as much gift as curse. There will come a day when you look at Magnus and all you can see is what you gave up. It may take a little while but I’m a patient man and we have all the time in the world to watch your love turn to seething hatred.”

Trailing off, Asmodeus takes a step closer to Alec who refuses to move an inch, no matter how much he wants to recoil. Asmodeus doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of Alec and then he grasps Alec’s chin in thin fingers that possess an iron grip.

“And when that day comes,” he continues softly. “I will welcome my prodigal son to Edom with open arms. You see, Alexander Gideon Lightwood, you are my way back to my son and nothing matters as much to me as him.”

He jerks his chin to Magnus who doesn’t even look aware of the exchange as he sweats through his waistcoat and the breath rattles in his chest.

Asmodeus pulls his head back until they’re staring into each other’s eyes. “I might save him but it’s not for you. You are nothing but a passing diversion. I am the one constant in Magnus’s life and I will stand next to him long after the very sight of him turns your stomach.”

The breath shudders out of Alec’s chest and he swallows hard. “That will never happen,” he vows in a low tone. “I will never give up on Magnus and I will never let him return to you. He is mine and I am his and nothing in this goddamned universe will ever change that.”

He spits out the last of it before turning his back to Asmodeus. As he stares at the fire roaring under the mantle, he brings the vial up to to his lips and throws it viciously back.

The screams start immediately.

Falling to his knees, Alec doesn’t feel the impact onto the granite floor. On all fours, his head hangs low and he tries to make himself as small as possible as pain radiates through every bone and organ and blood cell.

All he knows is pain, all he can hear is his own screaming voice, already growing hoarse. Looking down, he watches as his veins turn black and he wonders if it all wasn’t just a trick by the most powerful prince of hell.

He falls on his front, splayed in front of the fireplace and distantly watches as Asmodeus makes his way over to Magnus. He sees the way he kneels before Magnus’s side and the way crimson magic soaks into his boyfriend’s prone form.

The last thing he sees before it feels like his very soul gives out is Magnus waking in Asmodeus’s arms with blue wisps of magic curling around his arms.

He dreams. There’s a man with gold eyes that represent home and a world that’s far different than any he’s ever known.

He watches from afar as everything changes time and time again, the one constant the man beside him and the love that flares bright and high between them.

He wakes and in this new consciousness feels reborn.

He’s free and he’s taken and when he hears a hushed, reverent, “Alexander,” in a voice he’d know anywhere, he knows he’s safe.

Alec opens his eyes and stares at Magnus, at the rest of his life, and promises both heaven and hell that he’ll hang on to this with everything he is and everything that he will ever be.

#drag me out alive #my writing

101 notes · View notes

quinzelade · 5 years ago

Text

Making One’s Bones (chpt 14)

Chapter List

Porter Gage is in a pickle. Nuka-World needed a new boss and some woman just killed her way to the top. But a pre-war Mafia boss on the theme park's throne? Well...at least she'll have experience.

Hello, everyone! Welcome to my newest fanfic! While this is technically a ‘sequel’ of By No Constraint, you don’t need to read BNC to read this. It can be read as standalone.

Famous Last Words

“Hey, asshole! You're listening to Raider Radio. Don't like the name? I don't give a shit!”

Gage saw Bossanova visibly wince as RedEye’s voice crackled out over a radio on a nearby table. She stopped dead and stared at it, as if trying to will it to explode.

They hadn’t spoken a word to each other all the way down the stairs—Gage was furious with her for picking up the stray, and she was mad at him for his—justified—treatment of the kid. But his annoyance quickly made way for curiosity as Bossanova continued to stand and glare as if the radio had personally offended her. “What’s up with you?”

Bossanova glanced towards Gage, anger etched in every line of her ravaged face. She jerked her thumb towards the battered old radio. “I hate that man.”

“What, RedEye?” Gage frowned. “He’s a dumbass, yeah, but you’ve never met him.”

“I don’t have to meet someone to hate them for narrating my entire trip through the Gauntlet.”

“Oh.” Gage started to snicker. “Oh.”

“It’s not funny!”

“Well, I mean, it really is.”

The idea was Colter’s originally. RedEye, who already gifted Nuka World with his terrible Raider Radio show, had been drafted in to give commentary to all those stupid enough to fall into the Gauntlet’s trap. Fight their way through or die. And with RedEye making quips along the way, the whole thing had been genuinely entertaining for a while. Up until the point where Gage realised Colter was never going to move on and actually take the rest of Nuka World.

Still. The radio show wasn’t as bad as it could be.

“...got some news for you all,” RedEye went on, his voice rising in pitch as it always did when he was excited. “Word’s getting around that the Overboss has been seen meeting up with the head honchos for each of the gangs. No one's told me shit yet, but doesn't take a genius to figure out—”

“That was weeks ago,” sneered Bossanova. “He’s not exactly quick on the uptake, is he?”

“—we’re taking the park! The whole damn thing—”

“I would love nothing better than to kill him,” she said, toying with the hilt of her sword. “Introduce me some time, won’t you?”

“You just wait—this new overboss is the real deal, man. Getting shit done!”

Gage scowled. “Why bother? You’ll just pussy out at the last second or regret it afterwards.”

She frowned at him, and he knew he’d gone too far. But he wasn’t going to apologise. She’d let the stupid kid take his damn belt.

“I kill people who deserve it,” Bossanova said, just loud enough to be heard over RedEye’s babbling. “And when they deserve it, I enjoy it. It’s a skill; art, almost. And considering where we are, there are plenty of people who deserve it. You’ll get to see me in action soon enough, I’m sure.”

She turned on her heel and stalked off towards the front door, but Gage wasn’t letting this go without a fight. “So why the kid, huh? What benefit is she for us?” He lowered his voice as he followed her into the open. Never knew who was listening.

Bossanova was finally heeding his warnings about the other raiders, because she lowered her voice too. “She could keep things in order while we’re away. Like a servant.”

“She’s a slave, not a servant.”

“What’s the difference?”

“One knows its place, the other doesn’t.” Gage shook his head as they walked around the swan pond. “She’s useless, and if you keep her, the other raiders will think you’ve gone soft.”

“The girl could be an asset,” Bossanova insisted. “I’ve met her before. She followed me all through Nuka Town without me spotting her until the very end. And if we keep her loyal, she can squeeze into places we can’t, find information on people. No one pays attention to a slave. And the other slaves will think she’s on their side.”

Gage studied Bossanova for a moment. Her face was defiant, set, and absolutely full of shit. “Quit trying to kid yourself. You’re doing this because of Oswald.” Bossanova blanched and he knew he had her. “You feel bad for killing him, so you’re trying to make up for it by looking after the girl. It ain’t gonna work. You’ll never be able to trust her. She’s already proven that by stealing my belt, even if you don’t believe it.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure she’s taken it,” said Bossanova casually.

“What?” He didn’t trouble to lower his voice, and a group of raiders looked around at him. “What?” he hissed again, sticking his face close to hers. “You figured she had it, and you didn’t try to get it back?”

“I didn’t want an argument,” she replied with a shrug. “And besides, that old thing was looking a bit tired. Treat yourself every once in a while.”

“But the grenades—”

“I think Sarah’s sensible enough not to use them.”

The Fizztop Grille exploded.

Glass rained down on them as fire roared from the windows, furniture and body parts scattered into the open air before landing in the pond with a series of loud splashes. Gage slowly turned to look at Bossanova. She sheepishly met his eye as a crowd of raiders began to gather around the burning tower.

After a few seconds of painful silence, Bossanova said loudly, “Someone must have finally set off the traps I installed. I was wondering how long that would take.”

Gage blinked at her, thrown for a second, but then understood when the other raiders began to mutter amongst themselves about the ‘traps.’ Bossanova was covering her ass and making sure no one got any bright ideas about setting up bombs in the future.

“Let’s go see which idiot raider got too big for their boots,” Bossanova went on in the same loud voice. She strode back towards the main door, kicked it open, and disappeared inside. Gage jogged after her, hoping the smoke wouldn’t be too bad.

“Sensible my ass,” Gage snarled as they ran up the stairs together. “I knew she had my belt.” Secretly, he thought the grenades might be worth it just to get rid of the girl. But now was not the time. For all he knew, the building was about to come down and that would be an absolute shitshow.

The top floor lobby was a wreck. Black soot coated the walls, and the double doors leading to the outer patio had been blasted off their hinges. Smoke was billowing through, making Gage’s eye sting, but most of the damage seemed to have been contained to the outside. He picked his way through the mess, watching as Bossanova pulled a large red canister with a nozzle attached off the wall, turned to the nearest fire, and a jet of white-grey vapour engulfed the flames.

“The smoke’s bad enough without you spraying shit everywhere!” Gage yelled, coughing. He backed away.

“It’s a fire extinguisher!”

“What?”

“A fire—extinguisher!” Bossanova bellowed. She gestured to the wall behind him. “Get the other one and help me before this gets out of control!”

Gage blinked. The fire extinguisher—or whatever it was called—did seem to be doing the trick. He nodded and sprinted over to the other canister, wrenched it free, and fiddled around with the nozzle. “How do you—?” His question was cut off by a jet of white gas hitting him in the face. From across the room he heard Bossanova laughing, and after a second he managed to get control of the spray and direct it at the fire instead.

The fire flickered and disappeared, revealing a small figure pinned beneath the rubble. “Boss, there’s the girl.”

Bossanova whipped around. “Free her. I’ll carry on with the flames.”

Gage did as he was told, pushing and hauling the broken furniture, ceiling, and pieces of wall off her. Despite the chaos around them, the kid looked relatively unscathed. He spotted his belt on her immediately, and saw one of the grenades was missing. “There we go. Told you the little bitch caused this.”

Bossanova ignored him. “Is she alive?”

He checked her pulse and found it strong and steady. “Yeah.”

“Good. Move her to the stairwell.”

Gage grabbed the girl by the arm and began to drag her carelessly across the rubble out of harm’s way.

“Properly, Gage.”

Gage grumbled and sighed, but obeyed, picking her up carefully and walking away. He was surprised by how light she was, how fragile she felt in his arms. It occurred to him he couldn’t have been much older than this when he left home.

A wonder I didn’t die.

He set her little body down in the stairwell and checked her over. Bossanova would just give him shit if he didn’t. A cut on her head suggested she’d hit it when the explosion went off, but otherwise she seemed okay. Remembering one of the quick fixes Connor taught him, Gage took out a stimpak, lifted her head forward, and injected it where the back of her skull met the neck. She shuddered, and he did another one for good measure. Bossanova was living proof he’d need twice as much medicine to get the job done.

Sarah’s eyes flickered open, and she stared up at him, wide-eyed and trembling. “Where am I?”

“Stay still, asshole,” Gage snapped. “Or you’ll make your head worse.” He got to his feet. “I’m gonna go help the boss. Move from this spot, and I’ll bring you back up here just to throw you out the window again. Got it?”

Sarah nodded.

“Stop moving your damn head!”

The girl bit her lip, blinking quickly. Gage took this to mean she understood and he stomped off back to Bossanova, picking up his extinguisher and helping finish the job. He answered Bossanova’s searching look with a grimace. “She’s fine. I've given her some stimpaks.” The boss didn’t reply, but set to work on the fire once more with a look of relief.

The flames slowly died. Within ten minutes, the Fizztop Grille merely smouldered. Bossanova wiped her sweating brow, panting, and turned to him smiling. “Good job.”

Gage frowned, but didn’t reply. They wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place had Bossanova not brought the kid back.

“Gage,” Bossanova said, peering at him. “Stop sulking.”

“I ain’t fuckin’ sulking,” Gage muttered sulkily.

“Sure you are. Is it because of the girl, or because you doused yourself with the extinguisher before you actually managed to—don’t you dare!” Bossanova shrieked as the white gas engulfed her.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” Gage said blandly, his extinguisher nozzle pointed at her.

“I swear to Jesus and Mary and all that is holy, if you ever—”

Gage sprayed her again, grinning as her screams for him to stop turned into hacking coughs. Finally, the gas ran out and Bossanova emerged from the cloud holding her own extinguisher like a minigun.

“Porter Gage, you goddamn—!” She emptied her extinguisher at him, chasing him all round the Grille, and then threw the empty canister at his head for good measure. He easily ducked it, his sides aching with laughter.

It was odd, having fun without killing anyone. Gage savoured it while it lasted. Bossanova wiped tears from her eyes, grinning at him, despite herself. Then the situation—the smoking ruins of her den all around her, the implication behind it all—seemed to slide back into her thoughts, and the smile crumbled into a frown as she glanced past him. “You sure Sarah’s alright?”

“Yeah,” he said, not knowing or caring if it was true. Glancing back to the stairwell, he saw the kid was sitting up, watching them warily. There was something bothering him, and as he stared at her he realised what. “Boss...one grenade wouldn’t cause all this damage.”

Bossanova wore a grim expression. “That’s what I was worried about.” She walked across the lobby to Sarah, kicking aside rubble and dislodged furniture as she went, and crouched down. “Can you tell me what happened?” she asked, her voice gentle.

Sarah’s eyes flicked towards Gage.

“The boss is askin’ you a question,” he snapped. When she still didn’t move, he added, “Talking won’t mess up your head, idiot.”

Sarah flushed red and glared at him. Despite himself, Gage bit back a grin. Most of the other slaves wouldn’t so much as look at him. Guts was always admirable, even if it was misplaced.

“Raiders came in and planted a bomb,” Sarah said, scowling at Gage, while Bossanova’s face paled. “They were going to kill you, so I climbed up into the ceiling a dropped a grenade on them.” She smiled triumphantly. Bossanova looked horrified.

“Yeah, using my grenade belt, you little shit,” he growled.

“Don’t speak to her like that!” Bossanova cut in, shooting him a death glare.

Gage snorted. “She's just a slave.”

“She's a child!”

“Even worse.”

Sarah unbuckled the grenade belt and dropped it to the floor, kicking it towards Gage. “There,” she said, glowering at her knees. “If you won’t share.”

“It’s ain’t about sharing,” Gage retorted, wondering why he was trying to justify himself to a ten-year-old slave, “it’s my goddamn shit. I earned it. And I know how to use it properly. You just blew up half the fucking Grille.”

“No. The raiders did that. I just made it happen before you guys got back.”

Gage and Bossanova glanced at each other. The kid had a point, not that he’d ever admit it. He picked his belt up, noticing she’d gouged out a huge hole in the leather just so she could wear it. “Great. Fucking ruined.” He dropped it on the floor again and stormed off back towards the outer section. The damage was worst here, so the bodies of the raiders would be around. With any luck, it would be just one gang. If not, and the gangs were working together, they were in big trouble.

Now he was looking closely, Gage could see the body parts scattered around the mess. He picked the pieces up, dumping it all in the centre of the room, and then pawed over it, checking for tattoos and clothing to see which gang was the latest problem. He could have asked Sarah which gang members she’d seen, but he didn’t want to ask the little shit for help unless he absolutely had to.

“Body paint and stupid colours,” Gage said eventually, holding up a leg with a fluffy pink scrap of fabric clinging to it. “We’re dealing with the Pack.”

Bossanova approached, a muscle jumping in her jaw. Even in the poor light, she looked and tense. “They tried to kill me...again?”

“You’re surprised?”

Bossanova said nothing for a moment and then gave a small nod. “I thought I had everyone where I wanted them. I thought I had control.”

Gage rolled his eye. “How many fucking times did I tell you this ain’t like the Old World? How many times?” His voice was rising, sharp and full of condemnation. He knew he shouldn’t be this angry, but it was Colter all over again. Why did no one ever listen to him? “The raiders don’t trust you. You’re a ghoul and so far you’ve done fuck all to keep them in their place.” He threw the leg at her feet. “I told you. But you knew best, obviously. And I was stupid enough to believe it.”

Bossanova stared at the leg for a long time. When she spoke, her voice was low and quiet. “It seems I’ll be giving a demonstration sooner than I thought.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She ignored him, striding across the room, throwing open a surviving drawer, and pulling out a singed meat cleaver. “Get the bodies out of here. Toss them from the window for all I care. When you’re done, you come with me. We’re going to pay Mason a visit.”

The Bradberton Amphitheater screamed with the roars of the Pack. Mason lounged on his throne as Bossanova strode through the crowd, Gage at her heels. He admired her audacity, but wasn’t sure if balls of steel were going to be enough to waltz through this situation. Then Gage remembered the bomb and his temper flared. These fuckers needed to be taught a lesson.

“Get up!” Bossanova bellowed as she strode towards Mason. “Up, now!”

Mason raised an eyebrow, but didn’t move. Instead, he waved his hand towards one of his Pack—a tall boulder of a man with long dark hair to waist—and the raider stepped in front of Bossanova, baring his teeth.

“The Alpha don’t want to see—” he began, but Bossanova pulled out her sword without breaking her stride and drove the hilt into the man’s stomach, catching him by surprise. As he doubled over, she slammed her elbow into his temple, sending him toppling to the ground with a thud.

There was immediate uproar. Mason rose to his feet practically frothing at the mouth.

“Good Alpha,” Bossanova shouted, making her way up the stairs and kicking his throne backwards off the podium. “I like obedience.”

Gage had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself laughing, settling for a grin instead. He wasn’t sure where her attitude had come from, but he liked it. Mason, on the other hand didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He was easily two heads taller than the boss, but it was obvious she didn’t fear him. He moved down the steps slightly as she strode towards him, blade in hand, forcing him to look up at her.

“Boss,” Gage said sharply, noticing the anger rippling through the crowd. Weapons were being drawn, guns being readied. It didn’t matter how badass she was, even Bossanova couldn’t dodge lead.

“I defeated Colter with a sword,” Bossanova called out, turning to face her audience with her arms held wide. “I took him down in his power armour with this.” She held her blade high into the air and then gave a mocking bow. “What makes any of you think you could do better?”

No one answered.

Like Gage, Mason knew this wasn’t strictly true. The water, not her fighting prowess, had given Bossanova the edge over Colter. But the others didn’t know that, and most of them were too stupid to explain it to. Mason looked furious. Gage did his best to keep his face straight.

“Now,” Bossanova said, snapping her head back in Mason’s direction, “some of your little beasts thought they’d try and rig an explosive in the Fizztop Grille. They’re dead of course, but there needs to be payment for this transgression.”

“Payment?” snorted Mason. “What payment? None of us have shit and you know it. We’ve been stuck here for over a year, and judging by what you’ve been doin’, boss, we’re gonna be stuck here a little longer.”

Gage thought Mason had a fair point, but trying to explain the two areas they’d been to were still infested with gatorclaws and ghouls would probably be pointless. The gangs wouldn’t care that things weren’t ready—they only wanted results.

“Not money.” Bossanova paused, staring out over the crowd. She pulled back a layer of clothing to reveal the meat cleaver in her belt and met Mason’s eye. “Your people tried to kill Gage and I. Two lives, two fingers. They’re your pets, so you’re responsible. Pick someone for the debt, or I’ll just pick you.”

Gage frowned, feeling a little disappointed. Two fingers was tame considering they’d nearly blown her up. But she’d said he’d get to see her in action at some point and this was his chance. He decided to keep his mouth shut and see how it all played out.

Mason sneered at her and waved his arm around the amphitheater. “There’s a room full of us, bitch.” His words were met with a cheer, the Pack on the stands and the floor banging their chest plates and stamping their feet, throwing back their heads and howling to the sky.

Bossanova waited until they quieted down and smiled pleasantly. “Yes, but I only need two fingers.” She tilted her head and folded her arms. “Hurry up and make your choice, whelp.”

Mason flinched, the colour rising in his face. Gage thought she was pushing it, but couldn’t deny he was enjoying watching the prick be challenged in front of his own people. Mason gritted his teeth and flexed his fingers, his face going from red to purple as his eyes flicked between Bossanova and her sword.

“Haze!” Mason bellowed, turning to the stands suddenly. “This was your fucking idea! Get over here!”

A scuffle broke out in the crowd, followed by muffled screams as a lone figure was thrown into the clearing. He was a big man with purple hair and wearing a bright blue vest. He tried to back away, but met a wall of bodies pushing him towards Bossanova.

“Excellent.” Bossanova removed the cleaver from her belt and ran her finger down the blade lovingly as she stared at her prey. “Put your hand on the step in front of me. Now.”

The raider hesitated, staring at Bossanova’s placid face. She looked at Gage and gave a small nod.

Elation filled Gage’s chest as he strode over and snarled, “You heard what the boss said. Now!” He kicked the raider’s legs out from under him. Haze yelled in surprise, but Gage was too quick, taking his hand and forcing it onto the step at Bossanova’s feet.

“Choose your least favourite fingers.” Bossanova crouched down and stared into the man’s face, gently touching his cheek with the cleaver. “If you keep struggling, I’ll take your whole hand. I’m not picky.”

Her victim trembled, his eyes wide with a fear that made Gage’s heart sing. Finally Haze submitted, setting two of his fingers on the stone step and looking away. Bossanova trailed the rusted blade lovingly over the man’s knuckles, pressing in slightly so that he whimpered and tensed. The amphitheater was deathly silent.

Bossanova raised the cleaver in a sudden, violent movement and brought it down with a sickening clang. The raider’s scream was drowned out by the delighted yells of the Pack, a few howls piercing the din.

“Gage,” Bossanova yelled over the uproar as she picked the fingers up off the floor, “hold his mouth.”

Gage grinned, seizing the shrieking, writhing raider’s jaw and forcing it open. Haze hit out at Gage, blood flicking everywhere, but a second later his cries were muffled as Bossanova forced the fingers down his throat. He gagged and Gage let go, his teeth slamming shut with an audible snap.

Bossanova kicked Haze carelessly down the stairs and the crowd howled and whistled with appreciation, while Haze clawed at his throat, his face slowly turning as purple as his hair. She turned to Mason. “Save him if you want. You have my permission.”

Mason gazed down at the dying man, his expression one of intrigue and wonder, before looking back at Bossanova with renewed respect. “Nah. Fucker was no good anyway.”

She nodded and drew close. “If either myself or Gage are threatened again, you’ll be the next to kneel. And I’ll make sure something more valuable than fingers ends up down your throat.”

Mason didn’t seem to have an answer to this. Bossanova smiled, turned on her heel, and stepped smartly over the choking raider on the floor, tossing the cleaver carelessly away. Neither she nor Gage gave him a backward glance as they left the lair of the Pack.

#fallout 4 #fallout #nuka world #porter gage #gage #mob #Making One's Bones

2 notes · View notes