#hope anyone in the way of this storm is somewhere safe

[darlingsblackbook]

Beneath the Ashes

Diluc Ragnvindr x Reader

Summary : All you want is to help and fight alongside your lover but all it causes is arguments. Words are said, feelings are hurt and you storm away but will you come back?

Warnings : angst, arguments, blood, sad moments >:)

A/N: This is my first piece for Diluc, my beloved♡

There will be a part two soon!

The slam of the door rings in my ears, but it’s not enough to drown out the argument still raging in my head. The cold air hits me as I step outside, sharp and biting, but I barely feel it. My heart is still pounding from the shouting, from the words that cut deeper than I’d ever imagined they could.

“I’m not some child, Diluc!” My voice had cracked, raw with frustration. “I don’t need you to protect me like I’m some helpless idiot!”

“You don’t understand,” he’d shot back, his voice edged with a rare, ice-cold anger. “You’re too reckless. This isn’t just some petty mission. This is real danger. I won’t risk you getting hurt because you want to prove a point!”

There it was, that condescending tone. That same look he always gave me when we fought—like I was a fragile thing to be coddled, to be kept safe. It made my blood boil, made my fists clench at my sides.

“And what about you?” I had spat, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “You throw yourself into danger every damn day. You think that’s fair to me? To anyone who cares about you?”

Diluc’s eyes had darkened then, his jaw tightening. For a moment, I thought he was going to back down, to let me in. But instead, his voice turned cold, a chilling contrast to the fire always burning beneath his stoic exterior.

“That’s different.”

I had laughed, bitter and hollow. “Of course it is. Because it’s always different when it’s you. You get to play the hero, sacrifice everything for the sake of Mondstadt, but gods forbid I want to stand by your side.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe!” His voice had risen, a rare crack in his composure. “Do you think I want to do this? That I want to push you away? But if something happened to you, if—” He had cut himself off, his fists clenching. “I couldn’t bear it.”

“So that’s it? You just expect me to sit here in this mansion, waiting for you to come home, hoping you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere? You want me to be okay with that? With being left behind every time?”

His silence was deafening.

“I’m not a fragile flower, Diluc. I’m not one of your servants or your… your responsibilities.” My voice had trembled with the effort of holding back the storm of emotions threatening to break free. “I love you. I want to fight with you, not against you. But you… you won’t even let me in.”

He had looked at me then, his eyes hard, distant. The walls he always built around himself had gone up higher, stronger. And when he spoke, his words were like daggers, each one sharper than the last.

“This isn’t about love. This is about survival. If you can’t understand that, then maybe you don’t belong here.”

I’d felt something inside me shatter at those words. The pain had been so sharp, so sudden, that I couldn’t even speak for a moment. I had stared at him, at the man I loved, the man who was supposed to trust me, to stand beside me. And all I saw was a stranger.

“Is that really what you think of me?” My voice had come out small, barely more than a whisper. “That I don’t belong here? That I’m just… in your way?”

His silence had been the final blow.

Without another word, I had turned and walked out, slamming the door behind me. I didn’t look back. I didn’t want to see if he would stop me, if he would finally say something, anything to make me stay.

But he didn’t.

°•♡•°

The wind howls through the trees as I stumble along the path, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. My side aches from the cold, the pain still fresh from the fight. I should have grabbed my coat, but I’d been too angry to care. Now, every step feels like a reminder of how badly things went, of how shattered everything is.

His words keep replaying in my head. Maybe you don’t belong here. I never thought he could say something like that to me, that he could push me away so easily, as if all the time we’d spent together didn’t matter. As if I didn’t matter.

I bite back the lump forming in my throat. I’m not going to cry. Not now. Not after everything. If he wants to push me away, fine. Let him.

But the truth is, I’m not angry anymore. I’m hurt. The kind of hurt that sinks deep into your bones, that makes you question everything you thought you knew. And I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know how to make this better, or if it can even be fixed.

I don’t realize how far I’ve gone until the sound of twigs snapping behind me jolts me from my thoughts. I look around, but the darkness has swallowed everything, leaving only the faint outline of trees swaying in the wind.

I freeze. Something feels wrong. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I slowly turn around, heart thudding in my chest. At first, I see nothing but the dark outline of trees swaying in the wind.

Then, a shadow moves.

It happens too fast. A blur of movement, a sharp pain as something—or someone—grabs me, pulling me off the path. My scream is cut off by a hand clamping over my mouth.

Suddenly, a sharp pain explodes through my head, and the world tilts. I barely register the blow before I’m knocked to the ground, my knees hitting the dirt hard. The breath is forced out of me, and I taste blood in my mouth.

Panic floods my senses, but before I can react, a hand grabs my hair, yanking me back. I cry out, my voice barely more than a choked sob, but no one hears. There’s no one around.

I can barely process what’s happening, the world spinning as I struggle to push the assailant off. There’s more than one. Three—no, four figures, cloaked in darkness, their eyes glinting maliciously in the faint moonlight. Fatui? Bandits? It doesn’t matter. They’re here, and I’m alone.

My mind races, the fear choking me. Where’s Diluc? Would he even come if he knew? Or would he let me bleed out here, alone, because I wasn’t supposed to be out here in the first place? Maybe you don’t belong here. His words echo in my mind, cruel and sharp.

I was so hurt, so angry, so distracted by the fight I had with Diluc that I had not been paying any attention to my surroundings. I had not been paying attention to the possibility of enemies following me.

How could I have been so stupid? How could I have made such a mistake after my whole speech about being able to take care of myself and wanting to stand by Diluc's side?

I kick, I claw, but it’s not enough. I can’t stop shaking, the cold and fear gripping me in equal measure. One of them pulls out a blade, and I feel it cut into my side, a sharp, searing pain that makes my vision blur. I gasp, the knife sinking into my skin. Everything goes white with pain, and I feel the warmth of my own blood pooling under me.

My breath comes in ragged gasps, and I can taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. They say something to each other, but the words are distant, muffled by the rush of blood in my ears.

My vision blurs, and the world tilts again, the cold ground rising up to meet me as I fall. I hear the faint sound of footsteps, of voices, but it all fades, growing distant

I think I call his name.

Diluc.

But no one’s coming.

•• </3 ••

When I open my eyes, it’s to the sound of someone shouting my name.

“Y/N!”

It’s him. Diluc.

I try to move, try to sit up, but the pain in my side flares up, and I can barely breathe. His arms are around me in an instant, lifting me from the cold dirt. His face is pale, his eyes wide with something like terror.

“Don’t… don’t move,” he says, his voice shaking. “You’re hurt. You’re hurt…”

I try to speak, but the words don’t come. My throat feels tight, raw, and I can barely focus on anything but the warmth of his arms around me, the way he holds me like I might slip away at any moment.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it. Please, stay with me. I can’t—” His voice cracks, and I feel something wet hit my cheek. His tears.

I want to tell him it’s okay, that I understand now, but all I can do is reach up, my fingers brushing weakly against his cheek. He catches my hand, holding it tightly as if it’s the only thing keeping me here.

“I’m so sorry.." I sob as tears run down my cheeks as rivers. I yelp as sharp pain pierces my side, the slight movement of my crying causing immense pain. "Y-you were right-t...I kept telling you I c-could take care of myself and f-fight- still I-" My voice is barely a whisper.

His grip tightens, his eyes full of pain, of fear. “Sshhh, don't say that, dont worry about that now. I can’t lose you. I should’ve never… I shouldn’t have said those things. I was scared. I was—” He stops, choking on the words. “Please, y/n, just hold on.”

But I’m so tired. The pain is fading now, replaced by a numbness that spreads through me, pulling me under.

I hear him calling my name, but it’s distant now, fading with the rest of the world. And then, there’s nothing but silence.

♡

Meow meow meow meow...meow meow meow meow meow...

[aventurineswife]

Dear [Name],

The sound of your voice still haunts my thoughts—sharp, biting, and final. Two Augusts ago, that moment carved itself into me like the searing heat of Sigonia's sun. I told you the truth. A gamble, of course, like all things in my life, except this time I lost.

You didn’t like it, that truth. You left.

I remember standing by the gate of your home, the sharp scent of ozone from the desert storm overhead mingling with the iron tang of regret. Your car idled for a second too long. I thought—hoped—you might change your mind. But you drove off, taillights disappearing into the storm.

You in your Benz, and me, well… I stayed behind. Always behind.

Now, I fill my nights charming rooms full of people who adore my tricks and laugh at my lies. They think they know me—the dashing risk-taker, the lucky gambler. But luck had nothing to do with us. With you.

And what’s worse? I meant well, I really did. I just aimed low, didn’t I? Played my hand with all the finesse of a child at their first roulette table. I wanted to keep you, but my methods… I’ll make it known now: I failed.

Still, that’s just the way life goes, doesn’t it? Slam the door, spin the wheel, wait for fate to mock you. Trust me, I know—it’s always about me.

But I loved you.

And I’m sorry.

Two summers from now, I think we’ll be talking again, though not much. Just enough to pretend we’re “cool.” You’ll have your life, maybe someone who looks at you like I should have. I’ll be out on a boat somewhere, distracting myself with the sunset, the water, the drinks that never quite drown me.

I’ll wonder where you are—on a plane, I’d bet. Off to somewhere better, somewhere safe. Somewhere I could never take you.

And I’ll think, for just a moment, how surreal it all feels. Losing you.

Then I’ll remind myself that it’s okay, because that’s the way life goes. Push your luck until it breaks.

I wonder, do you remember the good parts of us? Because I do. And sometimes, they make the bad parts even harder to stomach. You were the best—and the worst. The way you could see through me, strip me bare with a single look, that sharp wit of yours like a scalpel. It terrified me.

As sick as it sounds, I loved you first for it.

But I was a dick, wasn’t I? It’s what I do, this age-old curse of mine. A gambler’s folly, thinking I could bluff my way through love the same way I do through life. You called me out, and I folded.

Now, when I laugh, it’s too loud. Too hollow. It’s the only way I know how to fill the silence you left behind.

Two years. That’s all it took for us to crash. And I stare at that wreckage every day, wondering what I could have done differently. But the truth? I don’t know if I’d have had the courage to be the man you deserved.

I try to make amends, sometimes. Not with you directly—I wouldn’t dare. I hurt you enough already. But with the world, in small ways. It’s a pathetic gesture, I know, but it’s all I have.

I’m wrong again.

Wrong for you, wrong for me.

And yet, when I joyride down the roads we once traveled together, I can’t help but lay on the horn, just to hear the echo. To prove, to myself more than anyone else, that the past still haunts me.

I love you.

And I’m sorry.

As I sit here now, pen in hand, this letter will likely never reach you. But maybe that’s for the best. You’ve moved on—I hope you have. You deserve peace.

Me? I’ll stay behind. Always behind. Watching the roulette wheel spin and wondering what might have been if only I’d played my cards right.

Because that’s the way life goes, isn’t it?

And in the quiet of my thoughts, in the shadows of my regrets, I’ll whisper the words you’ll never hear.

I love you, I’m sorry.

Yours Truly,

Kakavasha

[nevermorgue]

nevermore headcanons again: preferred weather

lenore: cloudy days. when the sun is barely seen through the clouds, but you can still somewhat find it if you squint. she’s stuck by the window, watching the clouds and swearing they twist intk familiar curls.

annabel lee: sunny, but not hot. a very light breeze in the trees and enough sun to illuminate any beautiful colored windows. the perfect day, many would say in passing.

duke: light drizzle of rain as the sun struggles to peek out of the clouds. the start of a potential downpour. he uses this to his advantage, of course, leading people to his entertainment as the closest place to stay dry.

pluto: pouring rain. No wind, just a dark sky and rain coming straight down against the ceilings. the sound puts him to sleep.

eulalie: very windy, sunny days. the sun is bright, but the wind whips through your hair and clothes. children laugh as hair gets in their faces and others panic while trying to chase their jackets. the laughter makes it all warmer.

berenice: cloudy skies with thunder rumbling in the distance, a sign of what’s to come. The thrill of finding somewhere to go before the storm is exciting and fun. the wind is starting to pick up slowly.

morella: crisp air and a bright sun, specifically in the early morning when the grass is still damp with dew. for a girl who should not stay in the sun for too long, she loves being outside.

prospero: very light snow. Not being in it of course, but watching it fall out of the corner of his eye as he sits by candlelight. it makes him feel a sense of security, knowing that he is indoors and safe from the growing cold. he watches it dust over the outside, thinking that the world looks cleaner than it usually does in that split moment.

ada: thunderstorms. Nobody can leave as long as the weather is strong, giving her more time to not be alone with her thoughts. the lightning flashes through the window, making her smile. her companion cannot leave, and she hopes it stays this way a bit longer.

montresor: extremely hot, humid days with warm wind and dark clouds. it hasn’t rained yet, and nobody is sure if it will…but it looks like a very bad storm coming. It’s humid and muggy, leaving everyone melting and fabric clinging to sweaty skin. the clouds are a faint green, a sign of a potential tornado on the horizon.

will: heavy, heavy snowfall. blizzards. from indoors, he feels as if he were trapped. he may be warm and comfortable out of the cold, but he wonders if he were buried in the snow- if he would feel more than he does now. would anyone notice if he were buried in it? would anyone find him? would freezing to a shade of blue be enough to be something that isn’t someone else?

[signfromeywa]

AUNGIA TA EYWA (A SIGNS FROM EYWA)

Chapter 04: The Infirmaty

Description:

Anastasia Novak is a behavioural scientist tasked with socializing a captive Na'vi on behalf of the RDA. The longer she works with the Na'vi and the closer she gets to him, the more she has to rethink everything she thought she knew and redefine her morals and values. Can she just carry on like this, or will she follow her heart?

Content: Rating +18, Avatar fanfiction, human x Na'vi ship, Na'vi captured

Characters: Human OCs: Anastasia Novak, Steven Turner, Patra// Na'vi OCs: Ean'tu,

Word Count: 3914

⊹˚₊‧─────────────────────────────‧₊˚⊹

❗️English is not my native language! I apologize very much if it reads a bit bumpy here and there.

I'm a German author and this is the first time I've tried to translate a story I'm working on into English and upload it. I still hope you enjoy it.❗

A sudden loud bang that shook the walls of the base made Mr. Turner jump up from his chair. He had been scared out of his wits and not long after the loud bang, the base's alarm sounded. Were they under attack? What had happened, just a moment ago Turner had been dozing away in front of the documents with his coffee cup in his hand, now chaos had broken out. The doors to the surveillance room opened.

"Turner! Quick!" Gonzales literally shouted and Turner took off running.

Once in the room, his eyes immediately fell on the window, which offered a view of the enclosure. The red flames colored the otherwise unlit surveillance room red.

"We have to get Sky out of there, now! Mobilize Unit 12 and give Sky a dose! This has to happen quickly!" as he instructed Gonzales and another colleague. The colleague ran out of the room to initiate everything else to get Sky out of the completely destroyed enclosure, Gonzales was busy in the meantime adjusting the dose and administering it to Sky via the collar.

It wasn't long before an entire unit stormed the enclosure. Fully equipped, they fought their way through the flames and searched for the Na'vi, who was lying unconscious somewhere. Only a few minutes later, the next unit arrived to fight the fire. Two AMP suits were mobilized to help get the flames under control and clear the debris out of the way.

Turner stood tensely at the top of the window and watched the units at work. Half of the surveillance technology had failed and he very much hoped that nothing worse had happened to Sky. If something happened to the Na'vi on his shift, it could cost him his head. After a nerve-wracking eternity, he was given the all-clear. The recovery unit had found the Na'vi and taken him out of the enclosure. But now everything had to happen very quickly. Sky couldn't wake up until he was back in a safe room where he couldn't hurt anyone and, above all, couldn't run away.

Gonzales came over to him. " Come on, let's take care of this, it's going to be a long shift."

Turner nodded to his colleague. He was right, besides, he would have to write a detailed report later and let Novak know that she would have to show up for work early, because they would most likely need that woman if Sky got out of control.

**

Ana woke up to the sudden ringing of her cell phone. Tired, she reached for the device that she had recently started keeping on her bedside table for just such occasions and peered at the number with blurred, tired vision. When she recognized the facility where she worked, she hastily answered her cell phone.

"Dr. Novak, what's wrong?" she asked anxiously, still a little hoarse."Forgive me for interrupting, Turner here, it's about Sky."

"Has something happened to him?" Ana interrupted her colleague, upset and worried.

"He's fine so far, just a few bruises, but we had to transfer him to the infirmary. Could you make it here at short notice?" Turner reassured her.

Ana sat on the edge of the bed and breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes, I'll take the next team bus, where do I have to go?"

"Just our normal facility, I'll pick you up at the gate. See you in a minute."

"Yes, ok, I'll be right there. Goodbye." Ana ended the call. What had happened that Sky was in sickbay? It certainly hadn't been easy to move him there. Sky was wild and dangerous, he wouldn't have let that happen without resistance.

Tired, she got up and hurried to put on a skirt and blouse as quickly as she could before setting off. After all, this was still her workplace and she didn't want to be lacking in professionalism. She grabbed her work bag and hurried out of the room and down to the bus stop while she hurriedly checked her wristwatch again. If she remembered correctly, a bus was about to arrive and she couldn't miss it under any circumstances if she wanted to get to the base as quickly as possible.

The bus stopped and she ran the last few meters to catch it. Out of breath, she sat down on a seat in the first row and the bus took off. The journey seemed like an eternity, all she could think about the whole time was Sky and how he was doing. Questions were running through her head, making her tired mind dizzy. So she was delighted when the bus finally reached its destination and she was able to rush out of the doors.

Past the security staff, in the courtyard, her colleague Turner was already waiting. "It's a good thing you made it here so quickly. Sky is completely out of control," Turner said by way of greeting and set off with her.

"What happened, why did he hurt himself?" Ana wanted to know.

Turner's steps were fast and Ana had difficulty keeping up. "A plane crashed and tore one side of the enclosure. It started a fire and the flying debris must have injured Sky," he said, without turning to look at Ana. "That was a big bang, I tell you, I was totally startled."

"Oh shit- sorry." Ana cursed in disbelief, it was lucky that nothing else had happened to Sky. No wonder Sky was beside himself now, he was in a strange environment with strange people and the last thing he remembered for sure was that huge bang. Absolutely disturbing.

Turner went on to fill her in on the state of the enclosure, what measures had been taken and what would be necessary. While he was telling them this, they walked along the large main corridors of the base to an area that Ana had not yet entered. Until now, she had always taken the direct route to her department and had not explored the rest of the base. However, they walked through far too quickly, so Ana had no chance to look around, not to mention to remember where they were. She would never find her way back without help.

The large mechanical doors of a ward appeared in front of them, with a large white glowing sign. Infirmary. But this wasn't where ordinary soldiers went when they were injured, this was a high-security wing. It was already written on the front which security clearance was required here. One that Ana certainly didn't have, but Turner seemed to know what he was doing.

Together they entered the station through the large door and just ahead was an airlock with a receptionist. "Yes, please?" She didn't even look up from her work.

"Mr. Turner, we're here for Sky." He pulled out his employee card and Ana did the same.

Now the woman looked up, inspected the cards and compared the data with her computer. "Yes, that's right. You have to go down the corridor, turn left and go all the way through. He's in the isolation station, room 4," she explained briefly and then opened the airlock to the station for both of them.

With the help of the description, it didn't took them long to find the right room and when the doors opened, they could hear something falling to the floor and shattering, followed by the loud sound of many smaller metal objects falling to the floor.

Turner and Ana hurried in. The room was divided into two areas and separated by a pane of glass. On the far left was a small airlock and behind it was Sky. He was hissing angrily and frightened, pressed against the wall and fending off the medical staff who tried to approach him. In the process, he had knocked over a small side table where medical utensils had been laid out ready for treatment.

The two medics, fully clothed in protective suits and wearing masks, didn't dare approach Sky, their gazes just as frightened as Sky's.

"What's going on here?" Ana wanted to know immediately.

The two medics became aware of her: "He suddenly jumped up and started thrashing around wildly!"

Ana didn't want to hear any more, it was clear that they were scaring Sky and she couldn't blame him. He didn't know what they were planning to do to him, he was completely disoriented and perhaps even in pain.

Without hesitation, she grabbed a mask and entered the airlock. If she didn't intervene, someone else would get hurt.

She entered the separate treatment room and stood in front of Sky: "Please leave the treatment room, Sky is not in a condition where you can treat him."

"Mam, we have to treat his wounds," said one of the medics, raising his hands placatingly.

"You can do your work later, but if you don't leave now, Sky will only hurt you."

"All right," they picked up the medical instruments and bandages that were scattered on the floor and left the treatment room, "watch out, there's broken glass here."

Ana turned to Sky, who was now huddled on the floor in the corner. He had raised his hands anxiously in front of his face because the light in the room was a glaring white and seemed to be blinding him, which must have disoriented him even more. Tears were running down his face and his body was bruised here and there, with small wounds and cuts. His whole body was trembling. Ana felt so sorry for him, but she didn't know what to do. It wasn't as if they had built up any trust in each other, he was probably just as scared of her as he was of the doctors. How could she help him?

Then Sky suddenly lowered his hands and his wrinkled forehead smoothed as he seemed to recognize her.

"...Ana." he then said and Ana's eyes widened in surprise.Had she just heard correctly? Had Sky said her name? It was impossible, even if he was intelligent, that he had remembered the name so quickly since the last time, which had been a few days ago.

"Ana." she heard clearly this time. No doubt he had called for her. She cautiously approached Sky and carefully raised her hands.

"I'm here, don't worry." Ana said gently and crouched down in front of him when she reached him. She sat there hesitantly. Sky's expression had calmed a little when he recognized Ana, but she still wasn't sure how much he trusted her. Was it OK for her to touch him? How close could she get to him?

To her surprise, Sky pulled her out of her thoughts by saying her name again. He seemed to want to communicate with her, but it was the only word he knew. Ana summoned up all her courage and reached out for the Na'vi, who did not flinch. So she reached for his hand.

"Come Sky, come with me." She made a gesture for him to follow her, hoping he would understand beyond the language barrier.

Indeed, as she rose from her crouch, Sky stood up too, but without letting go of her hand. He was so huge, his hand completely covered Ana's, she felt fragile next to him, even though Sky only held her hand very carefully. It was as if he was aware of his size and, above all, his strength.

She gently led Sky to the treatment table where he must have been lying a moment ago. He sat down on it and looked at Ana.

"I'll get the medics to help you now, okay?" Ana knew that he didn't understand a word. Nevertheless, she looked deep into his eyes and said this very slowly in a particularly gentle tone of voice. She was trying to make him understand that she wasn't up to anything bad and that everything was fine.

Nothing was good at all. The circumstances were completely bizarre and actually quite inhuman. In front of her sat something that seemed not unlike the consciousness of humans, and yet he was caged like an animal.

As she turned to go to the airlock so she could use the microphone to ask the medics in, Sky held her by the hand. His eyes looked at her pleadingly; there was no way he wanted to be left alone.

Ana lovingly placed her other hand on his. "It's okay, I won't leave you alone."

She thought about it. Sky needed someone to look at the wounds and treat them, not that anything would get infected. But he would never let the medics near him without Ana.She pointed to his sore knee. "You have wounds." she said very slowly, then pointed out to the medical staff standing in front of the glass pane, still holding the bandages in their hands. "They'll help you take care of the wounds."

Sky looked at her warily and then at the medics. He seemed to be thinking about what Ana might have meant and she hoped so much that he would understand. She didn't know how else to tell him.

"Tam 'ì'awn hu oe." Sky then also said very slowly. Ana could hardly believe that she had just witnessed his language. It was the first time she had heard this foreign language, so she had no idea what he might have said, but from the way he had squeezed her hand, he clearly wanted her to stay with him. She smiled at him, trying to be calm, even though her heart was beating excitedly. She had gotten herself into something, the extent of which she could not yet fully comprehend. The more she saw that Sky was not so emotionally dissimilar to her, the more she had to question everything she thought she knew.

Ana looked to her right, to the window behind which the medics stood and watched in amazement as Ana dealt with Sky, waiting to do their job. With a gesture, she indicated to the two men that they should come to her and Sky to treat him. Only hesitantly did they both set off, still full of suspicion as to whether the Na'vi would be able to control himself this time or whether he would fight them off again.

Turner also seemed to be watching tensely. He seemed to be worried about Novak in particular, just like on the first day. As the medics stepped through the airlock, Sky's hand holding Anas tensed. His tail whipped nervously back and forth and his ears flattened. Ana could see him clenching his teeth and tightening his jaws, but he remained still. He was clearly still scared, but he trusted Ana to look after him, which she was determined to do.

"Come to us, but slowly, don't make any loud noises that might frighten him," Ana instructed.

The men approached them slowly, careful not to make any rash movements. They placed the utensils for cleaning, disinfecting and bandaging on the small side table with castors that they had set up again.

"Can we approach him without concern?" one of them asked uncertainly.

"I can't promise anything, but I'm in good spirits if you move calmly and slowly," Ana answered them, but looked at Sky to let him feel safe. The medics carefully began to clean his wounds and Ana knew that most of them stung a lot. Sky held on bravely. His body was tense and his face showed fear and uncertainty, but he didn't break eye contact with Ana. She would have loved to say something to him now, but she didn't want to risk Sky answering her in his own language. After all, Ana didn't know who exactly knew that Na'vi were apparently an intelligent species and what would happen if the wrong people found out.

After plasters had been applied to the few abrasions and two deeper cuts had a thin bandage, the two medics left the treatment room again. You could immediately see that Sky's tension had eased a little. He was much more relaxed when he was alone with Ana, but unfortunately she also had to leave now, however much she hated to leave him behind. He needed her now more than ever, of course, she was aware of that, but she had to talk about his further whereabouts. After all, he couldn't stay here. He needed a place where he could rest, with somewhere to sleep. Here in the room there was only emergency care equipment with a treatment table. If she took a closer look, it was even the right size for Sky. That was extremely unusual. None of this changed the fact that the circumstances had to improve for him.

"I have to go for a moment, but I'll be back." She looked Sky in the eye. "I need to talk to my colleague." She pointed at Turner.

Sky looked at her, worry written all over his face. He didn't want her to leave. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he pointed at Ana and said her name.

She nodded with a smile. "Yes, I'm Ana." But then he pointed to himself. "Ean'tu"

Ana's breath hitched for a second as she processed what the Na'vi had just said. Was it what she suspected? Had he just told her his name? His real one? Ana had to make sure. She pointed at him now too. "Ean'tu?" she said in an uncertain, questioning tone. The Na'vi, who apparently went by the name Ean'tu, nodded and Ana thought she saw a faint smile on his lips.

Ana pointed at herself again: "I am Ana," she said slowly, every single word, then pointed at him. Would he understand?

He looked at her warily and pointed at himself too. "I. Am. Ean'tu," he spoke after Ana, with a strong accent, only with his name instead of hers.

"Yeah, right." Ana smiled happily at him. He had understood quickly, she hadn't expected him to really try to communicate with her and if he did, it wouldn't be here. It was all very unexpected and she wished they had more time and, above all, more privacy. But there was a lack of both and she really had to go and talk to Turner, who certainly had enough questions.

"I'll be right back, I promise," she said softly and released her hand from his. Ean'tu stood up immediately, wanting to grab her hand again, but then hesitated when Ana flinched. That he would reach for her so suddenly had admittedly startled her and Ean'tu seemed to have noticed. His gaze went to the window behind which Turner was standing, watching them both tensely through the glass.

Then Ean'tu sat down again. He apparently didn't want Turner to think he was going to attack Ana again, because now he seemed very passive and was ready to let Ana go, even if she could read in his gaze that he was reluctant to do so. But she didn't have any more time to waste. Ana's colleague was waiting for her outside and she didn't want to keep him waiting any longer. She hurriedly left the isolated area through the airlock and approached Turner.

"What happens to Sky now?" she wanted to know directly. Now that she knew what Ean'tu's real name was, it felt wrong to talk about him as Sky. The name he had been given by a human. But for now, it was safer for them both and wouldn't lead to unnecessary questions.

"The enclosure is still partially destroyed and will probably need a few more days until at least everything is escape-proof again, until then Sky can't go back," Turner explained the situation. Among other things, he was responsible for managing the enclosure and therefore always knew exactly what was going on.

Ana crossed her arms thoughtfully. "We can't leave Sky here, he needs to rest, it's all been a lot of excitement for him. Isn't there a temporary enclosure for him?"

"We have a sanatorium on this base, with various enclosures, but I can't tell straight away which ones are currently occupied and which are not. I'll make a few phone calls in a minute. If I have anything, we can move him." Turner looked over at Ean'tu thoughtfully. "The only thing we have to think about is transportation. We can't just transport him through the station like that, there's a high risk of escape or worse, he could attack someone. I'll be glad if there's something between him and me to keep us apart."

Ana could have been upset. The way Turner talked, Ean'tu was a monster, but Ana was no longer convinced of that at all. He was considerate and careful around her. To be honest, she had the feeling that he was very sensitive and therefore often very scared. If only she could make his circumstances better. She was determined to do this in the future and, above all, she really wanted to find out more about the secret contact. Her contact certainly knew a lot more about the Na'vi."Take care of initiating the transfer, I'll take care of Sky," Ana looked at her colleague resolutely. "I'll make sure he goes safely with me to the other station. No need to sedate him again."

"You want to... walk through the ward with him? Just like that? I can't let you do that. It's far too dangerous to trust on your word alone that Sky won't get out of control again and hurt someone." Ana could understand Turner's mistrust, but they had to start trusting him somewhere. At least Ana could, but Turner didn't know what she knew either. She was sure she could form a good bond with Ean'tu.

"We're taking security measures. We clear the corridors from here to the sanatorium, then we don't endanger anyone. We'll seal off the exits so Sky can't escape and he'll still have the collar on in case of emergency. So if he gets out of control, we can use it to tame him," suggested Ana, who was now all the more determined to move Ean'tu without sedating him. He should walk on his own. If he could see that Ana trusted him to do this and that he wouldn't hurt her, it would be good for their bond.

"...Novak, you have some ideas." Turner sighed.

"But they're good, aren't they?" Ana grinned.

"Unfortunately, it's not a bad plan... but I'll have to talk to the boss to get permission to evacuate and go into lockdown. After all, we'll be shutting down a small part of the facility."

 "Good, then I think you should start making calls right away." Ana laughed a little, although she felt sorry for her colleague. These were certainly difficult calls that she wouldn't have wanted to make herself. But then again, she was the brave one who was always with Ean'tu. Although she was no longer sure whether the Na'vi was the greater evil in this case.

Ana turned away to go through the airlock, "Let me know when we can start the transfer, I'll take care of Sky until then."

"All right, I'll see you later." Turner pulled out his cell phone and began to enter a number as he left the room. Ana just looked after him for a moment, then went through the airlock to Ean'tu, who had apparently been watching them the whole time and was already waiting for her.

Tag List: @twisteduniverse5 @yukilaaw @mooniequeen (If you want to get added, comment it under the post)

[abrunettefangirlnerd]

Apart From You

Request: Reader and JJ are in a relationship despite her father telling her to stay away from him. One day she gets a call from Sarah or Kiara that he’s in the hospital- his dad beat him within an inch of his life. Luckily her dad is somewhere on the mainland for the next two weeks so she can sneak out. She doesn’t leave his bedside for anything but using the bathroom until he can leave the hospital. Maybe he’s in surgery when she gets there, and/or has to have emergency surgery, maybe his heart stops a few times from like internal bleeding or something.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Warnings: some language, the beginning of spice that doesn’t lead anywhere, angst but has a fluff ending

Masterslist

“Dad please! Stop!” Your footsteps on the stairs echo along the walls as you storm to your room as your dad rants on and on about how bad of an influence JJ is. Quickly turning around your eyes find his as he starts his ascent up the stairs. “I love him please, try to understand.”

“Sweetheart, I know you think you love him but you’re both too young to understand what that means.”

His voice is softer and the hardness in his eyes melts away. He doesn’t understand. Mom left years ago and he refuses to even think about dating again. It doesn’t matter if you are dating JJ or someone else, he will never approve. You turn around with nothing more to say and plan to stay in your room the rest of the night.

“You are grounded starting now till an undetermined date.” His voice stops you in your tracks. “You can hang out at the country club or anyone else but the pogues and that includes JJ. Consider yourselves broken up.”

               The finality lingers in his voice. You’ve only heard this a handful of times in your life and you know better than to challenge it. There is no negotiating, no changing his mind. The door closes behind you, the sound deafening. You’ve never felt so alone.

You: Steer clear for a while, wait for him to cool down

JJ: Missing you already

               Tears blur the words on your screen. You tell yourself that your dad just needs to cool down. He is one of his moods and he heard about a gun firing off at a boneyard party. It was incredibly stupid of JJ to bring the gun and to actually fire it. But you understand why he did it. John B was drowning at the hands of Topper.

               A week passes and your dad hasn’t let up on the ban. Mostly you just stay at home in your room. You avoid seeing your dad. A day after the ban started, he took your phone so you couldn’t message JJ. He has eyes all over the island that could keep track of where you went, who you spent time with. Dinner time is the only instance you can’t avoid him.

“I have to go to the mainland for two weeks for work.” His eyes bore into yours like he already knows you’re getting an idea. “Ban is still on. Mrs. Sanchez will be checking in on you and you have to tell her if you’re going anywhere. I will still have my eyes on you. But you will get your phone back and I hope I can trust you.”

               You stay silent and continue to eat like you never heard anything. You want your phone back at least so you can contact JJ or any of the pogues. If you still can’t get out to see them, phone communication was the next best thing.

A scraping sound comes our way as your dad slides your phone to you. Your eyes stare at it like it might bite you. Can’t seem too eager for it but you have to be thankful at the same time. Slowly your hand wraps around the device and you slip in into your hoodie pocket.

“Thank you,” your eyes reach his for a respectable amount of eye contact to show your appreciation. “Have a safe trip.”

***

Voicemail #1 : Y/N it is Sarah please call me back! It’s about JJ, it’s an emergency!

Voicemail #2: it’s Kie, Y/N please answer your phone! JJ is in the hospital. It’s not good. Luke… he *sniffles* JJ is in really bad shape.

Voicemail #3: The fact you haven’t answered or showed up means your dad took your phone. Please whenever you get this get your ass over here!

               Your dad gave you your phone last night but didn’t allow a charger till he left the next morning. The girls’ words ring in your ears. The calls are from last night. If your dad gave you the charger you would have known and been there immediately.

               Not caring about the phone now, you leave it behind and grab your car keys. The truck roars to life for the first time in over a week. Tires squeal in a distance, your tires, but the only thing you can focus on is getting to the hospital. Kie mentioned Luke, JJ’s father, which means only one thing. Luke beat JJ, bad enough this time to need medical help.

“JJ Maybank please.” Your voice robotic, in shock.

“Room 0023” the nurse at the front desk informs you. “The ICU.”

               The ICU. That snaps you out of your trance and the next thing you know is you’re running. Passing through the unit doors your eyes skim all the number to find his room. The door is closed and you stop dead in your tracks. Taking moment deep breaths pass in your nose and out your mouth. The beating of your heart is still heard through your ears. Slowly you open the sliding doors to his room, preparing yourself for what you are about to see.

               The room is empty. No bed. No IV pumps. The monitor is set on standby, no one to hook it up to. Why wouldn’t he be in here? The lady at the desk said he was here! What if he is dead? You stop breathing with that last thought before hyperventilating. A nearby nurse notices you in distress and slowly directs you to a chair against the wall.

”Sweetie, he is in surgery.” Her calming voice is a balm in the panic storm of your mind. “Are you related to him?

               You’ve seen this part in movies before. If you don’t say you are in some compacity then they can’t share anything with you. It’s insane because you and the pogues are the family he has but they won’t accept that.

“I’m his cousin… more like siblings really. We grew up together.” The last part is at least the truth. JJ has been in my life since childhood. Were in the same class till your father’s rose up in the company that let you become a kook in middle school. No matter the social status, JJ never stopped being the most important person in your life.

“He was beaten up pretty bad, we suspect a possible hit and run along with a fight. Some facial fractures, a few broken ribs, left femur is broken. Nothing showing up on the scan of his head thankfully. He has some blood collecting in the space around his left lung, the trauma surgeon is placing a chest tube now and they are evacuating blood that is also pooling around his GI tract. But I don’t think they’ll need to wire his jaw shut and I think they’ll be able to take the breathing tube out after surgery as well.”

               The nurse’s words try to settle and make sense but the only thing you can focus on is the fact his own father tried to run him over. A chest tube sounds really serious. A breathing tube? Could he not breathe on his own at one point?

“You can stay in here till they bring him back if you want.”

“Thank you.” You breathed.

               The tears start flowing the second she steps out the door. All the tension and fear is crashing in on you at once. The tension between you and your dad the last week. The worry you always have for JJ getting into trouble without you there to help. The fear that iced your veins the second you saw the room was empty, scared he was dead and you never got to say goodbye. The fear you still have in seeing the full extent of his injuries.

               The sound of wheels and beeping of machines echoes down the hall. A bed pulls into the room with a team of people in blue scrubs. You watch them settle the bed, the pumps, and the monitor before leaving the room. One of the people on the team catches the nurse that spoke to you outside the room and gave what you could only assume was updates on how it all went.

               Your eyes gaze over towards the bed. Getting closer you see JJ laying there like he is asleep. He has a slight crease between his brows like he normally does when he is dreaming. You pray that he isn’t in any pain right now.

“JJ?” You gasp and rush to his side. Taking a seat on the side of the bed instantly your hand finds his while your other runs it’s fingers through his blood matted hair. A sob tightens in your throat as you try to speak. “It’s going to be okay, you’re okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

               The nurse is telling you how the surgery went and that they are just waiting for him to wake up. He got a lot of pain medications before heading over but he is responsive so they aren’t worried about his airway. She is trying her best to explain what things mean and being assuring that they are doing everything to help him. By the look in her eyes you think she knows you’re not actually his cousin but she doesn’t’ say anything and neither do you.

“Do you know how we can get in touch with his father?” She asks you next. Yeah the end of a bottle somewhere, hopefully in the bottom of a ditch.

“I think he is working on the mainland. I forgot my phone so I don’t have the number on me.”

               She leaves you be after that. Occasionally coming in and out as she needs for various assessments and administering medications. You just stay where you are and continue to watch the rise and fall of his chest. Your eyes on occasion falling on the chest tube and following down to the drain.

“Hey princess.”

               Your eyes meet JJ’s. Despite the pain he must be in, he sends his signature smile your way. Instead of smiling a sob escape past your lips. Your free hand tries to shield your face so JJ doesn’t have to see you cry.

“No princess, don’t cry. I’m okay. Promise.” JJ squeezes your hand. “Your dad is going to be pissed you’re here.”

“I don’t care. He is on the mainland for two weeks but even if he wasn’t I’m not leaving here till you do.”

               JJ doesn’t argue with you and you stick to your word. You stay the night there and only leave to use the restroom. Occasionally taking a sponge bath in the sink. The girls bring extra clothes for you when they come visit.

“Careful, I think I’m being spoiled.” JJ groans in satisfaction as you poor some warm water over his head. The nurse gave you a basin with some shampoo so you could wash the blood out of his hair. It has been almost a week and the doctor took out the chest tube yesterday.

“I think you’re entitled to a little spoiling.” Your voice is lighter than it has been in days. Leaning over, you press your lips to his forehead.

“I only want to be spoiled by you.” JJ whispers, his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of the warm water and your fingers running through his hair.

               Finishing up, you take a towel and massage his head, trying to wring out as much water as you can before combing it. JJ protests and begs for you to just run your fingers in his hair instead. A request you complete knowing that JJ’s hair has always looked a mess no matter what. Messy is its natural state of being, as is the beautiful boy laying in front of you.

“How did I get so lucky?” JJ’s eyes gaze into yours like his looking at a piece of art.

“I think you’re getting delirious from all the pain medicine.” You can’t help but giggle, letting your hair fall on your face to shield the blush betraying you.

“Don’t hide from me, please.” His words lock up in his throat and you notice a sheen over his eyes. “You’re beautiful, even when you’re embarrassed. I’m sorry about the gun. I will never admit this to anyone else but it was stupid… I’m stupid. It cost me you, anything that does is not worth it.”

               If JJ wanted to say more he couldn’t. Your lips find his with a tender kiss. JJ’s tongue dances across your lower lip, asking for more. Parting your lips you both begin to explore each other. Your body is on fire and JJ is the only thing that can be your salvation. JJ’s hands find your waist and guide you to straddle him. Careful, you maintain distance between your bodies, scared that any change in position could bring him pain.

“I wish I wasn’t in the hospital,” JJ gowls. “Or I’d have you on your back and naked in three seconds.”

“I think you’re overestimat- oh fuck!” JJ’s tongue trails down your neck, quickly finding your sweet spot.

“You were saying?”

               You can hear JJ’s smug smirk rolling off his tongue against your skin. One hand remains firmly on your hip while he trials his fingers so gently up your torso, shivers ignite in their wake. He takes his time, leaving incoherent shapes before reaching his desired destination. Fighting a whimper, you bite your lip as JJ’s hands play with your breast, his thumb ever so gently grazing your sensitive nipple, as his tongue continues at it third favorite spot.

“You’re right,” JJ pants out of breath. “I do like to play with my food before I eat.”

               JJ’s lips leave your neck, refocusing on a new territory. You notice the labor behind his breathing. Glancing up at the monitor you have a feeling that his elevated heart rate is in part for the excitement of being together like this again but also from pain. His warm wet tongue distracts you from your thoughts as it runs down the center of your chest, grazing the inside crevasse of each breast.

“Fuck, I want you so bad.” JJ breathes between every few words. “But I think I have to stop.”

“I’ll let the nurse know you’re ready for more pain medicine.” Your lips brush his forehead, not trusting either of you for another kiss. Carefully and quickly, you climb off of him and head for the door. “When I get back we are watching a trashy hospital cable movie and cuddling. Keep your hands to yourself this time.”

“Movie and cuddling, yes. But the last part is asking too much of me. I have to make up time being apart from you.” His signature wink flies toward you and you can’t wait for the day you get to take him out of this place. Not just the hospital but away from his dad, away from your dad, maybe from the outer banks all together. As long as you two are together and there is no one there to break you apart.

@stu-machers-girl

[clearancecreedwatersurvival]

I’m sorry your probably still up, I’m sorry you’re probably suffering and scared right now, but thank you for posting. Thank you for not giving into doom. Thank you for putting a little more love and hope and reminders to hold onto your community and survive into the world right now. I really appreciate it as someone who can’t sleep tonight. I hope you rest well and survive, even if it is mother fucking impossible thrive in these conditions. Sending you a guttural field to scream in together rn.

This is a very sweet message, thank you for sending it. And I hope you’re also able to find some peace tonight. Admittedly, I think I’m doing significantly better than many people right now, and to some extent I’m only as calm as I am right now because I very intentionally stayed out of the mire for most of the day. Instead, I read some stories that made me smile, and doodled some of the remaining fall colors, and later took a walk while the first snow of the season was falling, beautiful massive flakes coating the trees. I’m looking forward to drinking some warm beverages tomorrow while the snow keeps falling and getting to talk to my therapist. A blue jay came to my bird feeder this morning for the first time in a while, and perhaps tomorrow they will come again.

A couple hours ago I got the chance to video call a beloved friend who I haven’t talked to in a while, and it was really grounding to just catch up with someone I care about in the midst of all this. No better time to phone a friend and share the burden than the middle of a sleepless night.

I’ve spent a lot of time recently appreciating the resilience of my local riparian ecosystem. I live in the suburbs, but even in the middle of this heavily human altered environment, life still flourishes. Just this year I’ve seen owls and muskrats and turtles and cranes and raccoons and hawks and a very adorable juvenile skunk. I think when the storm is gone I will once again go out to pick up trash around the creek and do my part to help this little ecosystem thrive.

I think for anyone who is struggling right now or tomorrow or any of the days after, the best thing to do always, is to find someone to help. Yesterday (or the day before yesterday at this point I suppose), I helped one of my neighbors get through the aftermath of a domestic violence incident and find somewhere safe for her and her kid to go. Being able to provide support for someone who needed it in such a tangible way was really nice, and I know I can always look forward to finding more opportunities to help the people around me.

That’s what’s most important right now, I think. Helping your neighbors whenever you can, holding space with your loved ones to cry and laugh together, and doing something practical and tangible like cleaning up the trash by a creek.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 29: Back From Under the Ground

Summary: Tommy and Lucy work to put the last of their affairs in order.

Word Count: 4,244

Warnings: Violence, minor/canonical character death, terminal illness, suicidal thoughts/intentions, past animal death, and estrangement.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 19: No Limitations

Lucy clutched tight to the straps keeping her securely in place, jostling back and forth against the plane's movements. She cringed when they took a sudden dip, her stomach swooping. And not in a pleasant way. 

Outside the rectangular windows that lined the sides of the plane, she could see nothing but gray clouds. She could only assume that it was storming horribly outside. 

The inside of the plane felt cramped and small and dark. She had been reluctant to get into it when she and Tommy first climbed aboard. He must have seen it on her face, because he squeezed her hand.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” he’d promised in a soft whisper into her ear.

Once they’d gotten in and settled, it wasn't so bad. At least until the turbulence started. 

Next to her, Tommy had gone quiet, his head down and hands interlaced on his stomach over the buckles of his seatbelt. He was frowning at the floor, eyes unfocused, somewhere far away in his own head. 

He grimaced, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the bumpiness of the ride, or whatever visions were passing across his eyes. 

She reached down and took his hand, interlacing their fingers. Something in his shoulders seemed to relax at the touch, the look in his eyes snapping back to the present. He gave her hand a tight squeeze, resting their entwined fingers on his thigh. 

The aircraft was rattling so bad, she half expected it to start breaking apart. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back against the seat, and hoped that soon it would be over.

When they finally touched down onto the ground, she heaved out a sigh of relief, eagerly unhooking the buckles on her seatbelt. 

“Well, that was awful,” she commented to Tommy after they’d gotten their things and were out of earshot of the pilot

“You didn’t like it?”

She cast him a disbelieving look. “You did!?”

He shrugged. “It was…interesting. I’m sure they’ll fine-tune the process as time goes on.”

“I thought we were going to blow up right there in the middle of the sky multiple times.”

He snorted. “We still have the trip back.”

She groaned. “Is it too late to just let Michael fucking kill us?”

That got a genuine laugh out of him, kissing the top of her head fondly. They started to work their way through the fog, heading in the direction of the same pub and inn they’d met Michael at before. 

On their way, Johnny Dogs sidled up to them. 

“What have you got?” Tommy asked. 

“I just spoke to your man inside the inn. He says that they’ve put a bomb in the boot of the front car closest to the door.”

“Right. We’ll go inside and keep them distracted while you switch out the bomb and put it in the boot of the other car.”

“You don’t want me to just throw it in the ocean?”

“No. I expect he’ll have his men take the second car. It’ll be an easier way to get rid of most of them without having to engage in a shootout.”

“I’ll mark a noose on the door of the car to let you know it’s safe to get inside.”

“Good. Now go, before someone spots us together.”

Johnny disappeared into the mist. Lucy took a deep breath, flexing her gloved hands against the cold. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Johnny to pull through for them; she just wished sometimes that she could do everything herself. 

“You ready?” Tommy asked. The inn came into sight up ahead. Sure enough, there were two cars parked in front of it. 

“Yeah.”

He stopped her suddenly, hands resting on her upper arms. “If things go wrong…” he drew in a deep breath. “I want you to know that I’ve loved you very, very much.”

She placed her hands on his forearms, emotion squeezing at her heart. “I love you too. I’ve loved you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

He kissed her, slow and gentle, lingering a little even though it was not a particularly long kiss. She squeezed him once, then let him go, and together they picked their way over to the door of the inn. 

They walked in to find Jack’s men lounging in the pub, eyeing them both up like a pack of hungry dogs. Michael was sitting at the bar, his back to them. In the corner, she saw  Jean-Claude, the cut that Tommy left him with the last time they saw him having healed into a faint scar.

It was a gambol; trusting his information. But they paid him well and put him and his friends back to work when prohibition threatened to steal them of their jobs. Hopefully that was enough. 

They went to the bar, Tommy ordering whiskey for them both and greeting Michael. They looked over at the man they had entrusted with their lives. Jean-Claude’s eyes sparkled a little when he noted they were drinking whiskey and not water this time around, lifting his glass to them. 

Lucy felt herself relax a little. 

Tommy ordered a second helping of whiskey, drinking it while Michael explained that they wanted him to take them to where the opium was being stored before they paid for it. 

Ah, so that was how they were going to get them into the car. 

They went back outside. On Michael’s order, all of the men he was with piled into the second car, the one parked further from the door. Michael said he would drive with her and Tommy, then stopped, patting himself down, promptly announcing he’d forgotten his cigarettes and heading back into the pub.

Lucy shared a knowing look with Tommy. The kid needed to work on his acting skills. 

She craned her head around Tommy to peer at the passenger side door. Smudged near the handle was a drawing of a noose. Tommy quickly wiped it away and opened the door. 

“You sit in front, with me,” he told her, leaning back so she could climb in first. The request made sense. If the car behind them went up in flames, the glass could injure her if she was in the backseat. He climbed in behind her, and slammed the door shut.

They sat with their sides pressed tightly together, the only sounds in the car their breathing. Lucy reached over and took Tommy’s hand.

At least if they died here, they would die together. 

Tommy checked his pocket watch, the ticking unbearably loud in the otherwise quiet of the car. Lucy could hear her heartbeat hammering away in her ears. It could only have been a few minutes, but it felt like an excruciating eternity, sitting there with him, listening to the ticking of his watch, waiting for the flames of an explosion to consume them both. She shuffled closer to his side, feeling him press back against her. 

When the explosion came, it half rocked their own vehicle with the force of it. The back window blasted inwards, and Tommy was suddenly seizing her into his arms, pulling her tight to his chest and half curling over her to try to shield her from the broken glass and blazing heat bursting outwards from the car behind them. The blast was so powerful, it broke all the front windows of the pub they were just in.

Neither of them moved, waiting to make sure it was over before cautiously raising their heads.

“Are you okay?” Tommy asked, gripping her shoulder. She nodded. Her ears were ringing a little, but other than that, she didn’t seem the worst for wear. 

“You?”

“I’m fine,” he let out a shaky breath, reaching into his coat for his pistol. Lucy did the same, head swiveling around towards the door to the inn. 

They stepped out of the car just as Michael came out of the inn, his eyes growing round as saucers when he saw them. Tommy had his pistol trained on him in an instant. Lucy took a moment to check behind them, to make sure that no one in the second vehicle was still alive. Fire was still crackling from its charred remains, and she recoiled a little at the scent of burning flesh. 

There was no movement from inside. Black smoke billowed into the air, a deep contrast with the white of snow all around them. The wind blew it back into their faces. 

She returned her attention to Michael, pistol leveling with his chest. Tommy was shouting for Johnny, who came running from where he was hiding nearby. He acknowledged Michael, and quickly excused himself.

Tommy lowered his weapon, but Lucy did no such thing. She did not see a weapon on Michael, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She kept her pistol trained on him while he and Tommy talked.

Her fingers flexed against the trigger, waiting for Tommy to give her the order. She offered, before they left England, to be the one to put an end to Michael. To spare Tommy the guilt and pain of having to do it himself. He had not yet decided which of them it would be, then. But still, she was ready. 

She knew the decision he made by the tone of sorrow that entered his voice when he began to speak of Polly. 

“She’ll visit me no more,” he announced, and in a movement almost too fast to even comprehend, he raised his pistol, and fired a single shot into Michael’s head. 

Michael went down, onto his back, splayed out there onto the pavement. She and Tommy surged forward to stare down at him. The bullet had entered his left eye, leaving a bloodied mess in its wake. His other eye was wide open, staring emptily up at the sky. Dead. 

Lucy couldn’t quite help the pulse of satisfaction that went through her. Even if she wasn’t the one to pull the trigger on him in the end, she was just glad that they didn’t need to worry about the usurping idiot anymore. 

They both holstered their weapons, and went inside. Glass crunched loudly under their feet, the hinges on the door shrieking in complaint when it was opened and closed. Tommy brushed bits of broken glass from the surface of the bar with a gloved hand and pulled up a chair. Lucy sat down beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. She didn’t bother with asking if he was alright. She already knew that he wasn’t. 

He pulled out his cigarettes, lighting one and taking a drag before holding it out silently to her. She took it, drawing the smoke gratefully into her lungs, and passed it back to him. 

A booming voice from the back interrupted the little moment of silence they’d been having, Alfie bursting into the pub with his usual flourish and bravado. Arriving to snatch up his prize of half of Boston. 

“Hi Alfie,” Lucy greeted him with a small smile. “Did you get our wedding gift?”

“Yeah, I did, actually, thanks, little demon,” Alfie reached over to tussle at her hair affectionately. She swatted his hand away halfheartedly, 

“We got him a wedding gift?” Tommy asked. She kicked him lightly under the table. 

“I did, and because I’m a good partner I let you take half the credit by putting your name next to mine on the card.” She shot him a fond smile, pouring herself a glass of whiskey while Alfie launched into his usual mad ramblings and ravings. 

“Cousin,” she corrected, when Alfie referred to Michael as Tommy’s nephew. 

Alfie stopped mid-speech to stare at her. “Come again?”

“Michael was Tommy’s cousin. Not nephew.”

“Oh, for fucks–it’s practically the same bloody thing, isn’t it?”

“It is not.”

He rolled his eyes, grumbling and returning back to his pontifications. When Tommy did not react, he frowned, shuffling in closer, asking–in a voice frighteningly genuine in its concern–if he was alright. 

That lasted only about ten seconds of course, as his next question following Tommy’s revelation that he was dying was if it was from the clap. Lucy almost choked on her drink, Tommy patting her on the back and shooting her worried looks and Alfie a few glares until she had stopped coughing.

But under the madness and the nonsense, she could sense the genuine concern and sadness in Alfie’s voice. From over Tommy’s head, he looked at her, brow furrowed.

She waited until they were mostly done with their conversation, and then slipped from her chair. 

“Before we go, I need to make a phone call.” She went to the phone in the corner. “Ah, look at that. They replaced the one that you…shot.” She gave Tommy another fond look over her shoulder while she picked up the receiver and dialed. 

“The fuck you going around shooting telephones for?” Alfie demanded, and she chuckled a little to herself as the two men started to get into a spirited debate behind her. The phone rang a few times, and then a familiar voice answered from the other line. 

“Hello?”

“Isiah? Talk to me.”

“Billy’s dead.”

She let out a breath of relief, nodding to herself. “Who killed him?”

“Duke.”

“Finn failed, then?”

“Yeah,” Isiah sighed. “He tried to shoot Duke twice.”

“Is he alive?”

“Yeah. Duke banished him from the family. He’s allowed to do that, right?”

She smiled a little to herself. “I delegated my powers of exile to him while I’m away.” She glanced over at Tommy and Alfie, the pair still talking. A little ghost of a smile pulled at Tommy’s lips. “You’re both okay?”

“All grand here. Finn left in a huff, but I don’t think he’s going to try anything. Not for a while, at least. He’ll need to lick his wounds, first.”

She had to agree. Finn was mostly bark and no bite. But they would need to tread carefully, in case he decided to try to come crawling back like Michael had. “What about Arthur?”

“He’s fine. He and Jeremiah took care of Laura McKee and the men she brought with her to the Garrison.”

“She’s dead?”

“Yep.”

She sighed heavily in deep relief. Practically everything had gone as they’d expected it too, then. It was a fucking miracle they’d managed to pull this all off with no casualties. 

“Good. You boys did well. You found the booze in the cellar?”

“Sure did.”

“Enjoy yourselves.”

“You and Tommy are alright?”

“Right as rain.” Her smile faded. “Michael’s dead.”

“That’s to be expected.”

“Mhm. We’ll see you soon.”

“Bye, Lucy.”

She hung up, returning to Tommy to find him eyeing her anxiously. “Well?”

“Everything went as we planned. Billy and McKee are dead. No casualties on our end.”

His shoulders relaxed, relief blatant in his eyes. 

“Duke had to send Finn away.”

He squeezed his eyes shut at that, a look of pain momentarily working its way across his face. But when he opened his eyes again, his expression was resigned. “That’s what we expected to happen.”

“Mhm.”

“Right.” He stood. “Let’s go.”

∗ ∗ ∗

It was later, when he was seeing them off, that Alfie stopped her with a hand on the arm. Tommy was busy talking to the pilot of the plane they were taking back to England, giving him a chance to pull her aside and speak to her alone for a minute.

“He’s really dying?” he asked, voice soft and serious. 

She nodded, lips pressing together. “Yeah. Tuberculoma. In his brain.”

“Fuck,” he looked over at Tommy, then back at her. “What will happen to you, after he’s gone? Are you going to take over?”

She hesitated, not sure if he would understand. “There’s not going to be an after, Alfie. Not for me.”

His brow furrowed, taking on the expression of a grumpy grizzly bear. “You can’t be serious, treacle.”

“I’ve never been more serious of anything in my life.”

“You have plenty left to live for.”

“Do I?” She shifted, wrapping her arms around herself. “The Shelbys will probably want me gone, let alone ever accept me as their leader. Mosley will most likely try to have me killed again, and…” she trailed off, shaking her head. 

“And what?”

She forced herself to meet his eyes. “And I just don’t want to live without him, Alfie. I wouldn’t be living. I’d been surviving, at best. Wandering the earth, waiting to die so that maybe I can see him again.”

“You could come work for me.”

“I love you, Alfie, but it wouldn’t be the same. We both know that.”

He looked at her with the expression of a deeply disapproving father or older brother. “Does he know what you plan to do?”

“Yes.”

“And he’s alright with it?”

“I had to practically beg him over it, but yes. He is. He understands.” She looked into his face, the look of disapproval not dispersing. “It’s my decision, Alfie.”

His lips turned downwards. “Of all the bloody people you had to go and tie yourself too,” he shook his head, looking over to the plane. They appeared to be almost ready. “I suppose this is the last time we’ll ever see each other, then.”

A lump formed in her throat. “Probably.”

He pulled her into a bone crushing hug that she fiercely returned. “May you find peace, little demon,” he said into her shoulder. She closed her eyes, holding onto her old friend a minute longer before letting him go. 

“You too, Alfie.”

She offered him a sad, but hopefully reassuring smile, and went to return to Tommy. 

∗ ∗ ∗

She stood in the middle of the darkened foyer of Arrow House, a strange sense of deja vu washing over her at seeing all the rooms vacant of furniture or decoration. It felt like it did that first day he brought her and Grace out to see the house for the first time, when they were looking for a bigger home to buy.

A place for their family. To grow old in. To find peace from the chaos that was the rest of their lives. 

Look how well that fucking worked out, she thought bitterly. She wondered to herself if the house had ever really felt like a home to her. Or if there was always a part of her that felt like a fraud. Like they were playing pretend at a life they never were meant to have. 

“Lucy?”

She turned at the sound of Tommy’s voice, waiting for her near the door. 

“Are you ready?”

She took one last long look around the home, and nodded, going to take his hand. 

“Yeah.”

He led the way out the door and down the drive, giving the order once they were far enough away to their men. Behind her, she heard the echoing boom of the dynamite igniting, then the thunder of brick and wood splitting and bursting as the house went up in flames, collapsing down into itself. 

She forced herself not to look back. There was nothing to look back to, anyway. 

Her arms tightened around the urn clutched in them. 

They’d picked up Shadow's ashes on their way back from the airport. She kept them clutched tight to her chest ever since, unable to let them go quite yet. 

“Wait a minute,” she said, reaching to tug on Tommy’s sleeve. He stopped, facing her curiously. The rest of the family was camped out on the grounds near a lake on the property. They’d gone all out with the setup. Wagons. Horses. A campfire. It was nice. 

And it would serve as good cover for them to slip away with the excuse that they both needed the fresh air and time away from the city and business to unwind. 

Glancing out at the grassy fields surrounding them, she sniffled at memories of Shadow racing across the lawn. He was always happiest there, chasing the ball they would throw for him or trotting dutifully at their sides.

“It should be here,” she said to Tommy. He looked out over the grass, and nodded. 

“Yes. I think you’re right.”

She fumbled with the top of the urn, twisting it open and passing it to him to hold. He followed her out onto the grass, to the top of a little hill just off the path. She felt tears burn at the corners of her eyes. Sniffling, she dug her hand into the urn, taking hold of the first handful of ash.

She let the grey and black material slip through her fingers to be carried away by the wind across the meadow. 

“My good boy,” she choked on her tears, turning the urn over, spreading the ashes across the grass. “I love you.”

Tommy came up to her side, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. The empty urn dangled limply from one hand while they watched the ashes blow away into the breeze.

Lucy sniffled, chest spasming with a few sobs before she quieted. Tommy stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head, waiting patiently until she was ready to move. 

“Okay,” she whispered finally, taking his hand once more and letting him lead her in the direction of the camp. 

They had set up a long table amongst the trees, the rest of the family already seated when they arrived. Lucy slipped into one of the empty chairs next to the head of the table. She entwined her hands together, resting them against her lips while Tommy started to give a speech and raised a toast. Hopefully, if anyone noticed the emotion clouding her face, she could just pass it off as lingering grief for Shadow. It was at least half true, after all. 

When he announced that he would be going away for a bit, she half launched herself out of her seat, going to stand behind him with her back to the rest of the table, knuckles pressed hard to her lips to keep from crying. Tommy rested a grounding hand on her shoulder. Drawing in a deep breath, she turned back to face everyone, watching Tommy say his goodbyes. 

Her heart felt like someone really was cleaving it from her chest. 

How could she say goodbye to all these people? They had taken her in when she had nowhere to go. Yes, Tommy had made them, and she did not always get on with all of them, but they had cared for her, each in their own way. 

She supposed that was what family was. 

Tommy was struggling too, his voice breaking when he spoke to Charlie, having to quickly turn away to collect himself. Lucy shifted a little closer to him. She could see Ada watching them, her eyes narrowed. Suspicious. 

They needed to get away before they both fell apart completely. 

She followed Tommy in hugging everyone goodbye. First Curly, then Charlie Strong.

“Thank you. For everything.” she whispered. Charlie squeezed her back. Had it not been for him taking her in when he did, she never would have had any of this.

“Goodbye, Lucy,” he told her. She could offer only a tearful smile in return, reaching over to fondly ruffle Duke’s hair. 

“Take care of yourself, kiddo.”

He cast her a warm look, nodding. She gave him half a smile back before stepping away, glancing around the table to make sure there wasn’t anyone she’d missed. Arthur wasn’t there. And she doubted Linda wanted a hug from her. 

From within her chest, her heart constricted agonizingly at the sight of Charlie across the table. Moving tentatively, she shuffled around the chairs to stand a few paces away, fingers fiddling with her rings. 

“Charlie?” she tried, cautiously. 

He refused to look at her, turning his face away stubbornly in the opposite direction towards the water, jaw clenching. She dropped her hands to her sides, breath shuddering painfully in her chest. It was what she had expected. 

Didn’t mean that it didn’t still send shockwaves of pain through her already bruised and battered heart. 

Wordlessly, she turned away, going to follow Tommy to their wagon. 

Ada raced after them, demanding to know where they were going. When she got no answers from Tommy, she turned to Lucy. 

“Lucy…Lucy what is going on?”

She smiled at Ada sadly, pulling her into a hug. “Thank you for taking care of Trouble. I know she’ll be well looked after with you.”

“What are you–? Lucy!” she shouted when she pulled away. “Tommy!”

Lucy wiped at her cheeks with her thumbs, reaching out to take the hand that Tommy silently reached out for her. When they got to their wagon, he stopped, pulling her close, eyes staring deeply into hers.

“You can still change your mind,” he said, voice quiet even though they were far enough away from the rest of the family that there was little risk in any of them hearing him. “You can stay here. You don’t have to come with me.”

“Tommy.” She gripped onto him as tight as she could with one hand, touching his face with the other, looking at him hard, forcing him to see the resolution in her eyes. “I’ve made my choice. I’m staying with you.”

He swallowed hard, searching her eyes for another moment, then nodding. “Okay.”

She took hold of his hand again, and let him lead her away, to the last few weeks of their lives.

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[the-timeless-founder]

Promise Me

Chapter 2 of 5

let's gooo, part 2 is here... good God this one was a RIDE... @secretarykang as usual, let me know if there is any inaccuracies, I'll fix them immediately and I hope you all enjoy <3

All he sees is the pouring rain and the blazing lightning. He hears no thunder - the ringing in his ears has been loud and constant for a while now. Distantly, he recalls that he needs to push himself back up - try and call for his loyal dragon, and flee from the wrath of nature.

Yet still, his body refuses to move. It's as though each finger is as heavy as a boulder of dark stone, and suddenly, fatigue is all too present in his bones. The gash across his chest should hurt - is it the cold rain soothing his aches, or has he lost sense due to blood loss?

Time seems to have stopped. Or is it moving too fast? He can't tell. This is bad, that much is clear, he's losing blood still, and his vision is dimming ever so slightly. Is the battle still raging on? If so, why hasn't anyone come to finish him, or take him away? Did they presume he died from a simple mace strike and a fall off his dragon? The mere thought makes his blood boil.

Or it would, if he could keep his consciousness afloat for much longer. Somewhere between life and death, he can only comfort himself with one thought. That his father will come to his aid. He always appears when he needs him most. He won't fail him this time.

His vision goes black.

"Sae," Devyn calls, and he turns his face to her expecting gaze. Eyes puffy and red from the tears slipping, she can see his own grief - his own tears threatening to spill any moment now - and then speaks, "never once have you broken a promise you made to me. Now I ask of you to promise me again..."

He closes his eyes, and leans his head forward, so their foreheads touch. "Promise me that he will be back to us. I need you to promise me. Promise me you'll bring him back safely."

"I will do whatever is within my power to bring our son back, head and hearty. I promise you, dearest Devyn. But I must go now - we need act with haste."

"Yes. Of course. Take care, my love, and- and please come back soon." Devyn squeezes him in her hold one last time, before letting go. "I shall stay back and keep Silas and Aurora from doing anything reckless."

"Thank you, dearest. You always do right by us."

"Do not dally any longer, my love," Devyn looks to the storms in the East, "I can hear him... I can hear him call. He can not leave me. He can not leave us this way."

Saeclus has run dry on words to speak as he mounts Nocto, taking flight as soon as his hands connect with the feathers on his neck. He's sure Nocto can feel his urgency through their bond. And not just that. He can feel his anger, his regret, and most of all his fear.

A fear he has not felt in millennia. A fear so primal and heart-wrenching and painful, he can barely stand the reason he must feel it. The fear of losing a loved one. A child. His child. Their child.

His mind races back to Devyn - who had rushed into their chambers with an unbecoming hurry to her step - eyes wide in fright and worry and uncertainty. She had told him through choked sobs that Dante's squadron has been attacked, that they have sent their fastest eagles and ravens calling for aid, and how Dante is too stubborn to allow for eagles to be sent calling for aid.

She had insisted on coming at first, and it seemed impossible to hold her back until Silas and Aurora came to the main hall, demanding to be allowed leave as well. To search for Dante, to take their brother back home, and to unleash hellish fury on those who'd dared to try and take him from them.

It had taken all of Saeclus and Devyn's authority as their parents to keep them from doing anything reckless, and they agreed that should the both of them leave, then it was likely the siblings would follow closely behind. And a warzone is no playground.

Saeclus should know. He has been on countless. He has created and decimated countless.

Is this penance? If so, then the elder demons are crueler than God.

His thoughts come to a stop at the sight of a raging battle - blood splattering and metal clanking can be heard from all the way up in the air. He can not see Dante. Even as Nocto screams and dives down, hurling lightning from his wings at the Vibora outlanders, sending them ablaze or screeching from the pain - he can not see Dante among the fighting men.

His spear is in his hand before he realizes he's summoned it, and he jumps from Nocto's back onto the charging Vibora, sending five of their heads tumbling just from one swing. And causing the rest to recoil or freeze - they had not anticipated reinforcements. And they had certainly not anticipated him.

He has no time for this. He must end the battle this instant and begin searching for Dante. And presently, despite all of his self-discipline and so-called mercy, he could not care less for any of those standing in his way.

They will burn.

And they do, as a flip of his hand bursts the ground open, sending the company leading the aggression into the burning, blazing fires at the heart of the Earth. Screaming profanities and curses at him, the men are consumed by ruthless fire as the ground closes back up.

Saeclus speeds forward in a one-man charge - his eyes glow bright gold in such a terrible, powerful gaze that frightens the rest of them into a hurried flee. Even as he calls lightning down from the storm, directed at their backs, the Vibora run for their lives. They have caught a glimpse of the fury of the Timeless - and that single instance will haunt them into sleepless nights.

The Vampires who had been pushed back now push forward, out for the blood of snakes, but Saeclus could not care less for that. Or for them. Or for battles and victories and the other wounded. He has seen his son.

He comes to a halt at his side, shouting his name in a desperate cry. "Dante!" His arms come to the back of the younger man's shoulders and beneath his knees, carefully lifting him into his embrace. The wound on his chest is no laughing matter. Nor are the broken ribs and calves. Did he fall from his dragon? That is a plausible answer, yet Dante is the most skilled rider in their family—

No. This is no time for such thoughts. Life still dwells in his veins, that much Saeclus' magic can tell him, and that is all that matters. He shall heal and bandage him at the nearby camps, and then mount Nocto with him towards the mansion, so he can receive better care and medicine than he will on the front lines.

Rushing for the nearest medical camp in the storm, he misses the way Dante's eyes twitch open to see him for a moment, and fall closed again.

[codeopod]

Is This Allowed?

Post C3E89

Laudna and Imogen get another chance to talk once they are on their split-party mission, and Orym is caught in the middle. Yes this is titled from the vine, I wanted to play with Imodna from an outside perspective cause they definetely get lost in their own little world and romanticize things that are probably horrifying to onlookers, gotta love some untrustworthy narration. Enjoy!

Orym watched as the nerves settled in to each of his friends. The weight of the world would be enough to drive anyone over the edge, not to mention the weight of another smaller -but no less significant- planet.

They all carried it differently.

Fearne’s ears gave her away, twitching and following each little sound. Ashton leaned a little heavier onto his hammer when he stood for too long, and his brow was hardly ever relaxed. Chetney’s hands had developed a slight tremor, evidenced by his increased frustration while carving. FCG was hard to read, but his emotion wheel was nearly always verging on “exterminate” rather than “smiley” which was definetely something to keep an eye on. Imogen and Laudna were an odd pair, one crackling with light and the other weaving darkness, it only ever balanced out when they were touching, which they had been doing less and less of.

“So let me get this straight,” Ashton huffed, “we’re splitting up.”

“Yeah, that way we can cover more ground.” Imogen responded tersely. She had chewed off her pinkie and thumb nails and had taken off her gloves to continue, almost mindlessly as she paced the earthen chamber. They had already ruled out the assassination mission, against Orym’s hope that she at least be there for whatever happened. He, Chetney, Imogen, and Laudna were set on the infiltration mission, while the others were decided to join Ira for an explosive distraction.

“It’ll work out Ash, it has to.” He spoke up, squaring his shoulders. “You guys do what you do best, and we’ll do the same. Play to your strengths.”

Something flashed in Ashton’s gaze before he rolled his eyes with a laugh. “Right, the time-bombs vs the high-strungs.”

“I would say poor choice of words but you literally blew up.” Laudna chimed in, spindly fingers ghosting over her neck, Imogen glared at him from behind her.

“Shit, sorry Laudna.”

“It’s alright, it was funny.” She spoke over Imogens “Not funny.”

Orym sat vigil as Imogen curled in on herself, eyes glazed as she watched the violet flickering orb of her magical light dance between them. Their party had split off that morning to infiltrate and gather as much intel as they could before finally reporting back to Exandria. They were almost done, but the pressure had only increased. Especially now that they needed to spend the night in the underground network of tunnels near their target. They were meant to be back by now, and they would lose their telepathic communication soon without Letters nearby. It was all getting messy, but they had determined that it was safer to take it slow. Somewhere nearby, Fearne, FCG, and Ashton were waiting with Ira for their signal.

They are safe. Everything is stable. He reminded himself.

He had been first to offer to watch while the rest started their nights rest, but Imogen lingered as if her light was a fire that needed stoking.

You wanna talk about it? He spoke directly in to her mind to not disturb the others. It took her a minute to respond.

Bout’ how my momma might be dead right now? How if I close my eyes I might see her walk into that storm? How it’ll be the last time I ever see her. How I could’ve probably changed her mind but chose not to?

You couldn’t have changed her mind, not overnight.

Imogen looked at the ceiling, tilting her head back to suppress her tears.… I know it. That’s the worst part. She never would’ve chosen me over them. Not without a lot of talkin’ and time we don’t have.

War is full of ugliness and pain, I’m sorry you have to experience it, but you aren’t alone. You have us, we may be broken but we’re your family too, and we chose you. He gestured to the weathered grey fur of Chetney and to where Laudna lay curled up further away. Us and your spooky lady. We love you.

She smiled a little at that. Thanks Orym.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the soft snores of the old werewolf. Imogen’s eyes were noticeably drawn to the huddled form of her girlfriend just at the edge of the purple glow.

Can I ask how it’s going with you guys?

We’re alright. We talked earlier about everything and we probably still need to talk more but it’ll have to wait.

Yeah, I think a lot of us are holding out for a breather to delve into our stuff.

Some things are easier to postpone, my momma not so much, Delilah too, I just wish she wasn’t there all the gods-damned time.

Is it really constant?

Well, ‘ts what Laudna said anyway, she’s been getting stronger, she even spoke out loud to me and Fearne. Imogen grumbled. Cant stand it…knowing that ragged nasty old bitch is whispering horseshit in her ear and watching all our time together. Makes me not wanna do any…private stuff.

Orym snorted but paused and looked thoughtful for a moment. You know that’s exactly what Delilah wants, right?

Us not doing stuff?

Not just that, she needs Laudna to feel isolated…unlovable…it’s much easier to overpower someone with nothing to live for, she would definitely want to separate you two as much as possible.

Orym thanked every deity he could think of that he was friends with Imogen Temult and not at the receiving end of her power as she shot to her feet.

“That fuckin’ cunt.” She hissed out loud, turning to go to Laudna. Thanks Orym.

Orym chuckled and let his head fall back. “Yep.”

The glowing orb trailed after her, shifting its lavender spotlight onto the couple and leaving him in total darkness.

He couldn’t help but watch as they reunited; Laudna jolting upright to check on her, before furrowing her brow and pulling Imogen into her arms. Orym could only guess what Imogen could have possibly said that had Laudna wrapping around her like a spider keen on its prey. The darkness around them drew closer and the warlocks form blurred, growing in size and shuddering as her bones cracked and grew jagged bark. Her shadows licked and played around the perimeter of Imogen’s light, casting a ghostly lightshow accross the cavern wall near them.

His grip tightened on his sword hilt. He still wasn’t used to her unique display of power, and his gut often told him he was in serious danger even if it wasn’t aimed at him. He had started deferring to Imogen in those moments, to gauge the appropriate response.

The sorcerer slipped into the dark embrace without a seconds hesitation. She held on for a long moment before she drew away just enough to pull Laudna’s distorted face down to her own, hands stained black.

He nearly blushed at the raw intimacy of it all. The urge to reach under your partners skin and make a home amongst their bones was usually, he hoped, a purely poetic notion. They were in a unique position, literally, he couldn’t quite make out what was happening so he figured it wasn’t his business.

After a few minutes he glanced back to see imogen blushing and smiling like a smitten teenager, lips smeared dark, as she swayed into Laudna’s -now relatively normal- form. They were still impossibly close, but their magics had calmed, pastel purples blending into shadowy void. He heaved a sigh of relief upon hearing the lilting crone of Laudna’s laugh echo across the cavern. As they settled into their nest of blankets, Imogen’s residual dancing light faded to a dim glow before disappearing altogether, reducing Oryms perception to just his keen ears.

He really wished it hadn’t. It didn’t take long for the pair to start muttering and whispering again. He did his best not to eavesdrop, but it quickly took a tense turn, and he felt a deeply unsettling energy radiating from their direction. The normal darkness turned into something deeper, a chill skirted up his arms, and their whispers distorted to be unrecognizable and nightmarish. He wondered if Laudna had even noticed all the ways magic flowed from her, or if Imogen had grown so accustomed that she hardly took note. He was on his feet and stepping towards them when a voice broke above the din.

“No you fuckin’ aren’t!”

He nearly groaned. They were supposed to be keeping quiet and covert, not infighting. If this came to blows they would be in for a world of problems.

A light flared to life and shot towards him. He froze, preparing for his worst eventualities to unfold, until it stopped just above his head. It was one of Imogen’s, and it swayed slightly, seemingly attached to him this time.

Thanks , uh, could you guys k-

She interrupted him with a frustrated growl.

“Nope. Not messing with that.” He muttered to himself and sat back where he was before. Luckily, things slowly returned to normal, the room regaining its very faint light from the outside, and the couple quieting down for long enough that he knew they were finally asleep. He walked over and kicked Chetney lightly to switch watches with him.

Imogen wanted nothing more than to fall into a dreamless sleep, but she had a point to make first.

“Laudna?…hun? You awake?” She whispered into her lovers mind as she took a careful step towards the slight lump in their bedroll, shedding her outer layers that smelled like ozone and earth.

Laudna shot upright, concern pinching her features. “Are you alright darling?”

“Are you?”

“Can’t seem to close my eyes.”

“Well that never stopped you before.” Imogen teased.

“Imogen…?” Laudna regarded her with caution as the intensity in her eyes sharpened and locked on to her with a faint blush.

“I love you.”

“I love you t-“ The air burst from her chest as Imogen crashed into her.

“I love all o’ you.” She whispered. “Just as you are right now, okay?”

Laudna could only mumble incoherently, balking under the sudden attention as Imogen closed her eyes, happily tucked against her collarbone.

The cold seeped around them, Laudna’s aura enveloping her just before her arms followed suit. “I love you when you’re all creepy and dark.” Imogen took a deep inhale of petrichor and cedar, her hands sliding along the delicate architecture sprouting along Laudna’s spine as it shifted to accommodate her.

All Laudna could do was squeeze her eyes shut and try desperately to believe the woman in her arms.

“All your gore too.” Warm fingers traced ink across pallid skin. “You’re so beautiful Laudna, inside and out, an’ I would know cause I’ve seen it all.” She pulled her down into a slow kiss, hands smoothing her hair as twigs and leaves fell away to oil softened tresses. “I don’t love you in spite of Delilah, I love who you are in spite of her. You’re kind, and joyful, and crafty, and you love kids and you’re always eager to help cheer people up, even when everythin’ is just awful, and I’m gonna sundre that witch for ever thinking she could dim your spark.”

Laudna’s grip on her tightened with a strength that defied her willowy form. Imogen buried her head back into her now-soft skin and pressed a light kiss to her neck.

“I wanna have a farm with horses and two babies with purple eyes and black hair and a dog and some barn cats, and I want the worst thing that happens in a month to be us runnin’ outta eggs.”

Laudna gasped a breath as her ribs settled back in to place, her shock nearly choking her. “Imogen…” she cradled her face gently, dark eyes wide in awe. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Everything is okay, I promise, I just figured some shit out and I wanted to tell you.”

“I-okay.” Laudna wiped tear tracks from warm freckled cheeks as her own dripped from her jaw. “I want that life too. More than anything. It would be my deepest honor to share that with you.”

“Then it’s decided.” Imogen hiccuped and laughed softly. “Did you still wanna sleep?”

“Will you join me?”

“Can I hold you?”

“Please.” Laudna’s voice was small, but her shy smile remained as she bumped their noses and prestidigitated the tears and ichor away.

“Aw.” Imogen mumbled. “I like when it stains me.”

Laudna laughed bright and carefree, pulling Imogen in for another kiss. “You’re strange, my love.”

“Oh I like the sound of that.” Imogen purred.

My love. Mine.

Laudna giggled, delirious with affection, and pulled Imogen down into their bedroll. Imogen rolled onto her back and tugged Laudna’s head to her shoulder, hooking her own legs over Laudna’s, fingers slipping into her hair to scratch gently at her scalp. Her other hand soothed along the arm around her waist until the usual chill had melted away under her careful attention. Laudna sighed again and sunk deeper onto her.

“Alright?” Imogen whispered.

“The children… our children, if we somehow figure out how to have them, rather than adopt, they might be different than you imagined.” Laudna whispered after a moment.

“What like purple hair and black eyes instead? Maybe we’ll get lucky and get one of each.”

“Or a…teifling.” Laudna added.

Imogen held her a little tighter. “Oh! That would be interesting.”

“You’re not opposed?”

“We could always adopt. But, I would be honored to have your little teifling babies, or hells, maybe they’ll be little patè’s- I don’t care one bit darlin- they’ll be ours.”

Laudna clutched at her chest and squeezed her eyes shut. “Okay!” She managed.

“Shit, was that too much?”

“No!” Laudna hid her face in Imogen’s neck. “This all feels like a wonderful dream that will only end in horrid dissapointment.”

“Why would you say that? We’ve come this far havent we?”

“It’s not real .” She began, “I mean -I’m not real- I’m not alive, anything good that happens is simply a nice sentence in my epilogue.” She spoke in a flippant way, whether it was because she believed it, or because it was too painful to say sincerely, either way it made Imogen’s chest ache. A chill traced her spine, and up the back of her neck.

“Don’t you dare say that. I am not a dream.”

“No. You’re far better than anything I could’ve possibly imagined.”

“Don’t get sweet on me after saying this ain’t real.”

Laudna flinched, “I’m a ghost, darling.” She whispered.

“No you fuckin’ aren’t!”

Orym cleared his throat from somewhere in the shadows. Imogen threw a glowing orb his way and turned back to Laudna. “You listen to me. Your heart beats. You have dreams and hobbies and passions. You have a whole-ass girlfriend sitting in front of you, kissin’ on you and talking about making a family. You. Are. Alive.”

“That life wasn’t meant to be mine.”

“Says who? You think you’re just meant to be a hollow shell for a necromancer to puppet? That’s why you were born? You think you haven’t suffered enough to earn a little good?” Imogen huffed and set her glare in the taller woman who was currently curled in on herself. “You think Letters isn’t worthy of love? A family? A future? Just cause his life came about a little differently? Cause he’s two old to feel as young as he does? Cause sometimes he gets the urge to do bad things cause a’ how he was made?”

“Of course not!”

“Well you’re no different.”

Laudna’s eyes darted around, welling up with cloudy tears. “Well, I never thought about it like that.”

Imogen shifted to hold her face, “You deserve this hun, all the good and the weird and the beautiful, you’re just as alive as any of us and shit, you’ll probably even outlive some of us.”

“I should hope not.”

“At least Chetney.”

“…I can live with that.”

They watched eachother in the near darkness, taking a moment to breath as the tension finally faded and the roar behind Imogen’s ears dimmed.

“I’m not letting you go.” Imogen reaffirmed.

Laudna smiled sadly but kissed her forehead. “I hope not, nor I, you.”

“Good.” The last of Imogen’s anger left her in a few hot tears that pressed into cold skin as they hugged and swayed for a long moment.

“Shall we try sleeping again?” Laudna murmured.

Imogen waited until she was almost sure Laudna was asleep before whispering softly. “I’m afraid I’ll see my momma walk into the storm.”

Laudna made a pained noise and cradled her closer. “I’m so sorry dear.”

“It’s alright, really, she’s easier to let go of now that I know more.”

“It’s very much not alright. It’s entirely fucked and horrible. But I’ll be right here the entire time you’re asleep, you won’t be alone for a second, I swear it.”

“Alright.”

[mc-lukanette]

Marinette shivered, bringing her blanket further around her as she stared out the window. Even though it was still autumn, the weather for the day could easily be mistaken for winter. There was snow falling outside and, while she normally would find it pretty, she was still waiting for her tiny heater to warm up the room.

...I hope Luka's okay, she thought, curling in on herself worriedly as she imagined how he might be doing. They'd only met recently, but he was always so sweet to anyone who came by, even listening to people's situations despite his own. It felt like they were good friends.

She was certain he had money to stay somewhere as, despite him explaining that he wandered from town to town, he always managed to get enough gigs or general work with his musical talent. He could play just about anything and she'd never seen him turn down a single request (though he did make an amusing face when someone asked him to play an XY song once).

For all she knew, he could've already left and gone somewhere warmer. The thought made her feel colder, wishing that she'd be able to at least say "good-bye" to him had she known.

He might not have left, she reminded herself. He could even still be out there in the cold. Maybe he couldn't find a place soon enough, or everywhere was too packed, or he didn't even know that it'd get cold in time to do anything about it.

She glanced at the window again, watching the snow and imagining how cold it must be outside if she was still cold inside where she didn't have to worry about the wind chill factor of a cold breeze.

After a few seconds of silence, Marinette let out a loud whine of relent, throwing the blanket off of herself and pouting all the way to the door. She snagged her jacket, put on some boots, and opened the door to brave the cold outside.

——

"Luka!" Marinette cried, storming up to him. "What are you doing out here?!"

She found him out in the park, sitting on a bench like it wasn't snowing outside. He was in the middle of playing guitar, though "playing" was a bit generous when his fingers seemed frozen in position. She distinctly remembered cold winters back when she was younger when the heat would be only in the bakery section of her parents' house, leaving her to zone out in her room when it felt too chilly to think straight.

Luka only looked up at her when she put a hand on his shoulder, his hand twitching as his eyes focused on her. The scarf he wore was of decent quality, but hardly good enough to keep him warm.

"M-Marinette..."

"I can't believe you're still here!" She threw her hands up, but flinched and hugged herself when a cold breeze flew past. She scowled at the flecks of white in Luka's hair making it sparkle, eyes trailing down to his pants next to add, "And you're still wearing distressed pants when it's this cold?!"

"Sorry." He smiled, but sounded confused as if her worrying about him was strange. "I thought maybe I could make something new. It's not that cold."

"Not that—" Marinette bristled. She'd been out in the cold for maybe five minutes and already hated it. Almost like a declaration, she said, "...You're coming with me."

He blanked. "What?"

In a swift motion, she took his guitar from his lap and put it in the case, locking it shut so she could safely get it onto her back.

"Marinette—" Luka tried to protest again, but she was already grabbing his arm and pulling him off the bench. He stumbled, his legs taking a moment to find stability.

"You can lean on me if you have to," she insisted. "Why didn't you go somewhere anyway?"

He grinned sheepishly. "I thought someone else could use the space I'd—"

She huffed, almost rolling her eyes. "Yeah, you think that way, and then people start walking all over you, being all friendly just so they can..." She trailed off as she caught Luka's concerned gaze, blushing when she realized that she was revealing too much. "Ah—anyway, we need to go."

——

After practically shoving Luka inside her home, Marinette turned and used her full weight to slam the door shut behind them. The warmth of her house slowly started to sink back in and she let herself sigh in relief, almost dropping to the floor before she remembered the guitar case on her back.

"Can I set this down?" she asked.

Luka nodded, seeming somewhere between fond and amused. She took the strap off of herself and let it lean against the corner of the room, then started to dust off bits of snow from herself. Taking a look at Luka, who stood either too cold to notice his own state or uncaring, she reached up and did the same to him. She felt like a feather duster, brushing unwanted specks and such away to make way for a neater appearance.

It was only once she stepped back in satisfaction that she noticed Luka's wide eyes. It registered with her then that this was a grown man, she was a grown woman, and she was touching him even if it was with wholly innocent intentions. Maybe it was simply because Luka was such a comforting presence or she'd just been lost in the moment, but she genuinely hadn't thought about it.

"...O-oh!" she exclaimed, turning away and trying to find any distraction. Spotting the heater still in the corner, her mind buzzed trying to think of how to best rid him of the cold and she decided, "I'll let you use my shower."

"I—" Luka shook his head, back straight like he was trying to be professional about this. "I can't ask you to do that."

"Good thing you're not asking then!" She gave him a gentle push towards the hall as a test, eyeing his legs when he adjusted his balance. "See? I bet your legs are still frozen! Now go!"

She walked past him and tried to show him the way. It took a moment, but she eventually heard his footsteps following after her, confirming that he'd finally accepted the offer.

Marinette took one look into the bathroom to make sure she didn't need to panic clean, then stepped aside to allow Luka in. "There you go."

"...Thank you, Marinette," Luka said.; she could tell that he'd held back another refusal and it made her feel a little smug. He continued, "I'll pay you for it."

She poked his chest. "Don't. It's just one friend taking care of another." She paused, hesitating when she realized that they'd never established their relationship. "Uh... w-we're friends, right?"

Thankfully, Luka smiled at her, voice soft as he replied, "Yeah. Of course."

She smiled back, watching as he turned away to head into the bathroom. He went to close the door as something occurred to her, her hand unconsciously reaching out to stop him. "Wait!"

He opened the door back up, blinking at her. She ran off to go grab her tiny heater, unplugging it from the wall and gathering it in her arms.

"Here," she said, running back and handing it over to him. "Plug this in. I hate it when I get out of the shower and it's cold."

"Don't you need this?" he wondered, adjusting his grip on it to ensure he wasn't putting any pressure on the wire.

She waved a hand, dismissing the idea. "I'll be fine for a few minutes." Looking him up and down, she mulled over if she covered everything. Her eyes locked with the tears in his pants and she snapped her fingers, noting, "Ah, you'll need something warmer to wear!"

She didn't wait for him to say anything and went off to her room. While he was obviously too big to wear anything of hers, she still liked to dabble in making clothes in her spare time - including menswear - so she found something suitable enough for him.

Luka was still standing awkwardly in the doorway when she returned. She piled the clothes into his arms that were still carrying the heater, but while he was giving them an odd (almost uncomfortable?) look, she had another thought.

"Oh, and you'll need your own toiletries of course!" She went past him into the bathroom, crouching down at the sink to open the cupboards underneath it. She always kept spare hair care products for when she ran out, and while she didn't really have any that were made with men in mind, she didn't imagine Luka would care about that sort of thing.

She brought back a few of them she thought he might like, though his arms were still full with the heater and clothes. Leaning left and right to get a good look at the situation, Marinette carefully wedged the products where she knew they wouldn't fall.

Somehow he gave an even stranger look at the products themselves. It was comical actually, poor Luka standing there and trying not to drop anything she'd handed him. She blushed, wondering if maybe she'd overwhelmed him at all.

I-I guess I could've just put everything near the sink or something instead of giving them to him, she thought, rubbing an arm shyly.

Luka, however, took it all in stride, a laugh bursting from his chest that almost threw off his balancing act. "You're a funny woman, Marinette."

"F-funny?" She stared, wide-eyed at what she interpreted as a bizarre reaction. Did she embarrass herself?

Luka's gaze was warm though, reassuring her before he turned away to her towards her shower. While he didn't elaborate, the way her heart skipped a beat told her that he could've only meant good things.

She walked out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her to give Luka privacy. There was a clattering noise from the other side - probably him finally losing his hold - and she covered her mouth with both hands to hide her laugh. He was a little funny himself.

——

While Luka was taking his shower, Marinette decided to prepare some hot tea to keep her warm. The lack of her heater still left her a little cold, but she put up with it like she said she would.

She could hear the shower running, as well as what she was certain was Luka's humming. If she listened closely enough, she could tell what sound it was.

He has good taste, she noted, finding herself humming back.

She didn't have people over that much, so it was often just her in the house. She didn't even think anyone had used her shower before besides herself. Now that the panic of getting Luka out of the cold had settled, it was oddly nice just having someone in her otherwise lonely space.

Time passed, Marinette only stopping her humming when she needed to take a sip of her tea. Another cup had been set out in case Luka wanted something as well, though she was prepared to make him hot chocolate instead if he didn't like tea.

It was strange though. At some point, she stopped hearing the shower itself and only heard Luka's hum. It also sounded like it was louder than before. Maybe she was hyperfixating so much on the sound that she was blocking out everything else?

At least, that's what she thought until she looked up, noticing Luka leaning against the wall. He was still humming along with her, a look of amusement on his face.

"Buh—" She averted her gaze, a strangled noise coming from her throat when she cut off her hum. "S-sorry. I knew that one, so..."

"You always made the best requests," Luka compliments instead of addressing the humming elephant in the room.

She giggled sheepishly. "I know the best music. That's why." Then, trying to turn things around on him, she grinned and reminded him, "I would've asked you to play XY if I didn't."

Luka's face soured instantly. Feeling successful in her attempt, Marinette laughed in delight.

Now that he was out of the shower, she was able to properly take him in. Sweaters weren't really "his thing" and it showed in how he wore it - not that she wouldn't take on the challenge of making him one he liked wearing - but it was comfortable. His hair, meanwhile, was damp, but dry enough that he didn't need a towel around his shoulders to catch water. She kind of wanted to touch it, entranced by the way his highlights remained unaffected by being washed. Maybe they were natural after all.

Unprompted, she blurted out, "How aren't you famous?" and while it would've been easy to take it back or apologize, Luka was never offended by more personal questions and she wanted to know. "You're more talented than most - probably any - musicians in the industry, you're handsome, and you have good energy."

He blushed at the blatant compliment to his looks - cute - but answered anyway, "People have tried, but I'm not interested."

"Really?"

He walked closer to her for a more comfortable conversation. She showed him the hot water and his choice between tea or hot chocolate, noting that he opted for tea and sweetened it a little more than she would have.

She made a mental note that he had a bit of a sweet tooth.

"I know it sounds like an honor to have people offer me deals," he sighed, leaning against the counter and fidgeting with the tag on the teabag, "but they always want me to change something. They think I need more tattoos and piercings, or want me to be a little meaner for an 'edge', or change the kind of music I like to make."

Marinette understood that. There were some types of fashion she didn't like to make, and while it felt bad turning down requests from friends or even commissions, she didn't want to force anything or go outside of her comfort zone. She was simply her and she respected herself enough to avoid putting herself through that.

"I get it," she said after a moment, smiling sympathetically at him. She'd already revealed something personal that day, so she didn't want to unload further onto him. Maybe another time.

Luka smiled back at her, then looked back down at his tea. He took the spoon and gave the tea a stir, adding on, "I wouldn't have accepted anyway, even if they did give me a good deal. I don't think I want to be a rock star."

In shock, she wondered aloud, "No? I was so sure that's why you were traveling. I thought you were trying to get someone to notice your skills?"

Her reaction felt rude, but it didn't look to surprise him. She supposed he must've gotten it a lot, perhaps from frustrated people who wanted him yet couldn't have him.

He hesitated, tapping at the edge of his tea cup with a black nail, before asking, "...Can I tell you something personal, Marinette?"

Perhaps too eager for her own good, she stepped closer and nodded fervently. It was perhaps too close for the amount of time they'd known each other, but she was too curious to care and Luka didn't mind.

"My mom never liked being tied down," he began. "Even if we stayed in the same city, we lived on a houseboat so she could move whenever she wanted to." He stared off at nothing, as if reminiscing on mixed memories. "I never said anything about it because we were taught to go wherever our passion took us, and hers took us all over until I grew up enough to go out on my own."

"And she rubbed off on you," Marinette guessed. She imagined a little boy on a pirate ship, going to sleep in one place and waking up somewhere new; a dramatic mental image and almost definitely not how it was actually like, but she felt that it was the feeling he was getting across.

"She didn't have an anchor keeping her in one place," he continued, lifting the teabag slightly just to let it go and watch it sink back to the bottom of the cup. "She did meet some woman before I moved out, but she liked to travel too." He shrugged, unbothered. "I don't know where they are, but I'm sure my mom's happy."

It sounded sad, but Luka didn't. Marinette wished she could be in his mind for a moment, going through his memories to see where his attachment to his family began and his lack of attachment when it came to letting people do as they pleased began. What could she even say? That his mother surely missed him? That he was better off as he was, going around by his own choice than his mother's? That he at least seemed happy traveling from place to place and playing for people even if he didn't have a place to call home?

"You're looking for your own anchor then," she said instead. She was sure that's where he was going anyway.

He hummed with a confirming, "Mm," and that was apparently all he had to say on the subject, as his next comment was, "I should get your heater back from the bathroom."

She let him go, watching him disappear into the hallway. The vulnerability he'd shown her made her shiver, drawing her eyes back to the world outside her window. Taking her teacup with her, she crossed the space and set it on her windowsill while she took in the sights.

The snow had stopped only after she and Luka were out of its range, because of course, and she focused on the blanket of snow covering just about everything. Some people walked by, most dressed for the occasion while others were as unprepared as Luka, and Marinette frowned at the idea of having not planned further than getting him a warm drink and shower. On some level, it wasn't any of her business, so whether Luka moved on to go somewhere warmer or chose to stick around a little longer shouldn't matter to her.

It mattered to her.

As she mulled it all over, she faintly heard footsteps behind her, the other sounds signaling that Luka had returned and was setting up the heater back where it was before. Not stopping to think or let herself regret saying it, she voiced, "Do you want to stay here until the cold lets up?"

Silence was her response, and even his movements had stopped. She followed the original source of the sounds to see Luka crouched down, his hand hovering to put the plug in the socket yet frozen in place while he stared up at her in surprise.

Still committing to the suggestion, she anxiously tried to persuade him. "I know you were just talking about how you travel everywhere, but I'm worried about you. Even if you have the money to go somewhere warm, it's still expensive, isn't it?" She waved her arms about as she spoke, trying to work out her nerves. "I'm not asking you to pay rent either. The house is big enough and your company is—"

"Won't that make things hard for you?" he suddenly questioned.

"...Huh?" She tilted her head, puzzled. Wasn't she just explaining how there was more than enough room in her house for another person?

Luka stood, abandoning the plug - or maybe having forgotten it entirely - to stand up at his full height. Touched, he put a hand to his chest, but clarified, "If you really want me here, I'd love to, but I don't want anyone to feel awkward if I stay."

"What are you talking about?" She stepped closer to him again. "Why would it be awkward?"

There was that face again: the one he'd made when she gave him clothes and the hair care products from under the sink. She ran over their whole conversation, wondering if maybe she'd said something that he could've taken the wrong way.

"Marinette," Luka said, sounding as confused as she felt, "I'm talking about your boyfriend."

"My—" She felt like she was going to fall over. "My what?!"

"Or your girlfriend," he hurriedly corrected, looking contemplatively at the clothes he was wearing. "I guess if she was tall enough, then—"

"Luka!" Marinette put a hand over her face in an attempt to cover up her blush, her other hand waving wildly at him to tell him to stop. "I-I don't have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, or anyone. Those clothes are mine." Okay, maybe that would only confuse him further. "Do you remember when I told you that I design clothes?"

He nodded.

She pointed up and down at him. "I made those. They don't belong to anyone."

Luka's body language changed in an instant. Both of his hands went up to grasp at the sweater, his eyes intently taking in every detail of it with such awe that she felt a sudden burst of confidence.

Everything clicked now. He hadn't looked awkward in the clothes she made because of how he felt wearing such clothes, but rather because he thought they belonged to someone else. He only hesitated on accepting because he thought there was someone else living with her. With the latter, there were all sorts of ways she could interpret him having thought that she'd already been spoken for, but regardless, it did mean one thing...

"So you'll stay then?"

He tore his gaze away from the clothes to make eye contact with her. In response, she held her hand out, hoping to make the offer "official" with a handshake. She could already imagine him insisting on doing dishes for her or giving her warnings about when he'd be gone and when he'd be back, and honestly it just made her all the more eager to get him to accept. He was just cute that way.

"...Alright." He beamed at her, reaching out to complete the handshake. "I'll stay. Thanks, Marinette."

It must've taken a lot for him to agree to root himself somewhere, so she felt extra special albeit a little guilty for it. Besides, maybe it was just her imagination, but she did feel like an anchor in a way, keeping Luka grounded in her presence. It felt as though he wouldn't go anywhere so long as she kept holding onto his hand.

Idly, she thought that she wouldn't mind being that for him.

[dead-lights]

deadcanons: the vatores (earlyish stuff)

I've been slowly typing up headcanons lately while I'm waiting on renders - I'll put them up as I finish them! These are my ramblings about what I think the vatores' early vampire years were like, starting a bit before Lilith turned and ending around when Caleb was a prime vampire. This is pretty long.

Caleb, Lily, and Lilith were born in Veronaville in the late 1930s/early 1940s, meaning they came of age as occults in the 1960s.

Lilith met Vlad shortly after her parents, along with Lily’s, died in a horrific car accident back in the good ol’ days before cars were required to have seat belts (which btw, in the US wasn't until 1968). He preyed on her grief and her fear of death and human weakness. At the time, Lily was lost in her own grief and Caleb was jealous of the attention Lilith was getting from Vlad.

While Vlad was absolutely manipulating Lilith, she did ask to be turned.

Caleb was super naive when Lilith first turned. He thought he’d be able to spend time with his sister as usual and didn’t recognize the danger in being the lone mortal barhopping with a bunch of unruly vampires. Lilith used to hang out with the Rebellious Vampires amongst others, soooooo...

Lilith told her new vampire friends that Caleb was off-limits. No feeding, no turning.

Caleb had fairly recently finished culinary school, and was working as a sous chef in an Italian restaurant. He was so stoked.

Though Lilith respected the fact that becoming a vampire would destroy Caleb’s life - you can be a vampire, you can be an Italian chef, but you definitely cannot be both - she quickly realized that she didn’t want to do the occult thing or live the immortal life without the people she loved. Shortly before Caleb was turned, he and Lilith talked it out and decided that he should become a spellcaster, with the hope that he could cure Lily with magic and make her a spellcaster too, and then they could all be immortal together. Miss Hell got to him before he could figure out where the portal was, and their relationship with Lily only got worse from there.

Miss Hell was turned a few years before Lilith was, but they became minor vampires at around the same time. They were rivals for Vlad’s approval, and he had fun playing them off each other. Very much a "Daddy loves ME best!!!" kinda dynamic.

Miss Hell is kind of a shitty vampire - like I get big Team Rocket vibes off of her. Caleb surpassed her within a few decades.

After some petty disagreement between Lilith and Miss Hell, Vlad suggested that turning Caleb would be a hilarious prank and a great way to get back at Lilith. Vlad wanted Caleb turned because it would give him an extra level of control over Lilith, but he didn’t want to do it himself because he thought (correctly) that Lilith would never forgive him, and might even leave the coven.

Caleb felt comfortable around his sister’s new vampire friends because he didn’t think any of them would go against Lilith’s order not to harm him. He didn’t realize that Miss Hell was more of a frenemy than a friend, so one night when she asked him if he’d like to find somewhere a little more private, he really didn’t think it’d be his blood getting sucked.

Lilith was not amused by Miss Hell’s “hilarious prank.” After she found Caleb and got him safely home, she stormed over to Vlad’s mansion and tried to beat Miss Hell to death with her bare hands in front of the entire coven. At this point, Lilith had started to develop supernatural strength, and she would’ve ripped Miss Hell’s shriveled heart right out of her chest if Vlad hadn’t called her off. Vlad was very impressed by Lilith’s ferocity. She gained his favor, but he lost her loyalty. Miss Hell wound up sidelined.

Caleb has always served as Lilith’s moral compass. She is aware that she is selfish and lacks empathy - she has trouble truly caring about anyone except Caleb and Lily - and she doesn’t like that about herself. She deeply loved and respected her parents and feels bad that she struggles to live by the values they taught her. Caleb, on the other hand, has their father’s compassion and patience (as well as his ambitious and materialistic traits), and she generally looks to him as the authority on what their parents would’ve wanted. After Caleb turned, he got fully caught up in the chaos and debauchery, turning his back on the person he was. Without Caleb to moderate her worst impulses, she fully embraced her darker side.

Caleb’s journey back to the light started when he developed his guilty drinker weakness as a minor vampire. I don’t see this as just switching on like it does in-game, but rather developing over time. He had trouble figuring out what was happening to him for a long time, and it’s not like Vlad had any advice for him beyond “stop being a goddamn baby.”

Caleb met Inna at a gala the Bloodvein coven was hosting when he was a minor vampire. Bloodvein, her owner at the time, had her mesmerized and was more or less showing her off like a trophy or pet (like this promotional render). Something about that made Caleb deeply uncomfortable, though he wasn’t entirely sure why.

At that point, Caleb was struggling to maintain his place in the coven - Vlad was increasingly disappointed in him and Caleb badly wanted to win back his approval, so he had the idea to pull a hilarious prank against Bloodvein for some perceived slight. He thought it would make him look cool in front of Vlad. At first he thought about drinking from Inna - feeding on another vampire’s thrall is an enormous mark of disrespect - but something about that made him feel deeply uncomfortable, so he decided to turn her instead, essentially doing to her what Miss Hell did to him. He still feels deeply conflicted about the whole thing - he legitimately was not trying to help her and he didn’t ask permission, and yet it ended up being the best thing that could’ve happened to her. They've remained friends, though he feels incredibly guilty when he's around her.

Lilith started coming back to herself when she realized just how miserable Caleb was. If feeding on humans made Caleb feel that bad, they must be doing something horrific, even if it didn’t feel that way to her. She started making plans to get her and Caleb out of the coven.

[dinas-a-bird]

A Chance Encounter

Pairing: Ellie Williams x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You, a survivor who got separated from your group while trying to reach a settlement called Jackson, meet Ellie, a girl who is simply on a supply run. Ellie helps you get back to Jackson and invites you to come to the winter dance.

Word Count: 2,102

part two

A/N: Once again sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. Also did you notice I attempted an actual summary.

p.s the dance is set up a little differently here than in the game.

Ellie cautiously approaches the small clearing in the forest. She is on a supply run for Maria, who sent her to collect some medicinal herbs. As she searches the area, she notices movement out of the corner of her eye. Her hand instinctively reaching for her gun, quickly turning around and pointing it at you.

“I’m unarmed,” you say, stepping forward. “I’m sorry for startling you.”

Ellie relaxes a little, but still keeps a firm grip on her weapon. She could tell you were nervous, and she finds herself wondering if you were in trouble.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

You nod, “Yea, I’m as okay as anyone can be out here,” you chuckle, “I just got separated from my group, we were on our way to a settlement called Jackson, heard it was safe there. I’ve been wandering around for hours. Started to think I was gonna die out here.”

Ellie raises an eyebrow. “Well, I’m actually on my way back to Jackson after I get some more herbs. You can join me if you want but first empty your pockets. Want to make sure you're not gonna kill me on our way back.”

You pull your front and back pockets inside out, a couple strands of lint falling to the ground. “Alright, c’mon then.” She starts walking towards the forest waving for you to follow.

You smile gratefully, and as you walk silently through the forest together, Ellie says, “So, what’s your story? How did you end up out here?”

You tell her about how you and your group had been traveling for weeks, trying to find a safe place to spend the night before continuing your journey in the morning. You had lost some members along the way, and morale was low. But Jackson gave you and your comrades hope, you were all determined to make it there. That was until the storm came, darkness and rain surrounded your group and you got lost along the way.

Ellie listens intently, nodding along as you speak. She could relate to your struggle, having lost many people herself. But she had found a sense of community and purpose in Jackson, and she hoped you would too.

As you walk, you both keep a lookout for infected or other dangers. But despite the risks, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief and camaraderie with Ellie by your side. Maybe, Just maybe, you would make it to Jackson after all.

After a while, you both arrive at yet another clearing where Ellie needed to gather herbs. She quickly collects the necessary plants and stuffs them into a pouch. You both set off again eager to make it to Jackson before nightfall. You couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of trust towards Ellie. She seemed like a capable survivor, and you were grateful to have her by your side.

As the sun begins to set, you see the walls of Jackson in the distance. Ellie picks up the pace, and you follow close behind. Finally, you reach the gate, where you are greeted by armed guards.

After Ellie explains your situation, the guards allow you both to enter the settlement. You let out a deep breath, relieved to finally be somewhere safe, surrounded by people who could help you.

Ellie gives you a small smile and outstretches her arms, “Welcome to Jackson.”

You grin back, “Thank you, Ellie. Really, I wouldn’t have survived without you.”

Ellie shrugs, “It’s what we do here, we help people, endure and survive.”

You nod a small smile appearing on your lips, “Yea, endure and survive.”

As you walk through the settlement you can’t help but feel a sense of awe. The people here have built a community in the midst of chaos and danger. There are children playing, families cooking, and people working together to keep the settlement running. You feel a sense of hope and belonging that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Ellie leads you to a large building, “This is Maria, she kinda runs things around here, Maria this is y/n she's new.” Ellie says as she hands the herbs to Maria.

“It's nice to meet y/n” the blonde says before examining the herbs. She gives Ellie an approving nod and thanks her for her help.

Ellie turns to you, “If you need anything, let me know. I’ll be around.” As she turns to leave she looks back to you one last time and says,  “There's gonna be a dance tomorrow in the church, drinks, food, if you want to come.”

You smile, “Thank you Ellie.”

As Ellie leaves, Maria turns to you. “So, what brings you to Jackson?”

You explain your situation and how you had gotten separated from your group. Maria listens patiently and nods sympathetically. “Well, you’re welcome to stay here. We could always use another pair of hands around here.”

You smile, grateful for Maria’s kindness and generosity. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. I’m willing to help out in any way I can.”

Maria smiles, “That's great to hear. We have a variety of tasks that need to be done, from gathering supplies to maintaining the walls. Just let me know what you’re good at and we’ll find a job for you.”

Over the next couple of hours Maria helps get you situated, showing you to your living space and giving you some clothes. Once nightfall hits you lay down on your new bed ready for a much needed rest.

The next day you wake up feeling refreshed and ready to explore more of Jackson. You spend the morning helping out with some tasks around the settlement, but your mind is preoccupied with the dance that Ellie mentioned.

As the day wears on, you find yourself getting more and more excited for the dance. You shower and change into the clothes Maria gave you, feeling a sense of normalcy you hadn't felt in a long time.

As you make your way towards the church, you see the settlement coming to life. People are setting up tables and chairs, and you can smell the delicious aroma of food cooking. Children are running around, laughing and playing, and you hear music in the distance.

When you arrive, you greet some people outside before heading in. The room is decorated with colorful banners and streamers, and tables are filled with food and drinks. People are milling around, chatting and laughing.

You spot Ellie across the room, she waves you over. “Hey, glad you could make it.” she says, handing you a drink.

You thank her, taking a sip. “This is great,” you look around the room, “Everyone seems to be having a good time.”

Ellie nods, “Yea, we try to have a dance every so often. It helps people forget about the  bad stuff for a little while.” After chatting for a couple minutes you leave her to go mingle with the rest of the crowd.

Looking around at the people dancing and laughing around you, you say, “This place is incredible. I can't believe how everyone’s managed to come together and make something like this happen.”

“Yeah, it's pretty amazing what people can do when they work together. We all have our roles to play, and it’s not always easy, but it’s worth it.”

You take a sip of your drink and look around the room again. Suddenly, you spot Maria across the room, waving you over.

“Excuse me,” you say to Ellie, “I think Maria wants to talk to me.”

Ellie nods and gives you a small wave. You make your way over to Maria, who is sitting at a table with a group of people.

“Hey y/n,” she says, smiling. “I wanted to introduce you to some people. This is Mark, he’s in charge of our scavenging team. And this is Sarah, she’s one of our doctors.”

You shake hands with Mark and Sarah introducing yourself. You end up chatting with them for a while, discussing different tasks they do for the community and how I could fit into the mix. After a while you say your goodbyes to the group and make your way over to Ellie, who is sitting alone at a table.

“Hey.” you smile and sit down next to her.

“Hey yourself,” Ellie replies, a smile spreading across her face.

“Having a good time?”

Ellie nods, “Yeah, it’s been great. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself too.”

You take a sip of your drink, sitting in silence with Ellie for a moment. Ellie suddenly stands, turning towards you, “Care for a dance.” she offers you her hand. You take her hand and she leads you to the center of the room. As you start to dance you notice Ellie’s eyes studying you. Seemingly analyzing your every move. You can’t help but feel self-conscious, wondering if  you’re dancing wrong.

Ellie notices your discomfort and gives you a reassuring smile. Her smile relaxes you and you start to feel more comfortable. You let the rhythm guide you, moving to the music, and Ellie follows your lead. You can feel the connection between the two of you growing stronger with each step you take.

As the song picks up, Ellie spins you around, her hand on your waist, and you can’t help but feel a sense of electricity between you. You look into her eyes, and for a moment, the world stops. You feel like you’re the only two people in the room.

As the song ends you both slow down, catching your breath. You can feel your heart racing, not sure if it’s from the activity or something else.

Ellie smiles at you, “You’re a good dancer.”

You smile back, “Thanks, you’re not too bad yourself.”

Ellie chuckles, “Well, I’ve had a lot of practice. That old man over there,” she points over to a man you had a brief conversation with earlier, Joel. “He forced me to learn.” You chuckle at that as the next song starts playing. You both move to the song, enjoying each other's company. As the night goes on, you find yourself feeling more and more comfortable around Ellie, like you’ve known her for years.

The party starts to wind down a little while later, you and Ellie decide to step outside for some fresh air. You see the stars shining bright in the night sky.

Ellie looks over at you, leaning against the railing, “You know, you’re not like most people who come here.”

You raise an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

Ellie shrugs, “Most people who come here are broken, you know? They’ve lost everything and everyone they care about. But you, you still have hope. You still believe that things can get better.”

You look at her, “I don’t know about that, I’ve lost a lot too.”

Ellie puts her hand on your shoulder, “I know, but you’re still here, fighting. That takes courage.”

You smile at her, feeling warmth spread through your body, “Thanks Ellie. I appreciate that.”

Ellie looks at you, her green eyes shining in the moonlight, “Y’know, I’m glad I met you.”

Blushing and smiling softly you nod, “Me too.”

You hug her, wrapping your arms around her. She returns your hug, wrapping her arms around you.

"How about I walk you home, it's getting pretty late." She says pulling away from the hug, a gentle smile on her face.

You nod, "That would be nice."

She smiles at you as you both begin walking towards the house Maria settled you in. It takes only a couple minutes for you to arrive. Ellie turns towards you, rubbing her neck, "Well, I guess I'll see you around."

Opening the door you smile, "Why don't you stay the night. It's pretty late, and I would be forced to offer to walk you home." you laugh.

"Thanks for the offer, but Joel's gonna worry if he doesn't know where I went." She sighs looking up at you

"Okay, well if you change your mind... my door is open"

"Thanks y/n, I had a great time tonight."

You smile at her, "Get home safe."

"I'll try." she jokes.

You step inside and start to close the door before turning back around, seeing Ellie making her way down the porch steps you call after her, "Goodnight Ellie."

You hear her laughing softly, "Goodnight y/n."

You step into the house, closing the door behind you. The house is silent. You take a deep breath, and walk into your room. After changing into pajamas, you crawl into bed. It is silent as you close your eyes.

[gayboyasher]

YOU ASK FOR GHIACCIO YOU GET GHIACCIO (my gay ass was summoned by your post) caaaan I ask for Ghiaccio with a male reader who was like his. Gay awakening. Like I don't think Ghiaccio's ever been like "I'm straight. End of story." But I think being attracted to a dude would still catch him offguard? Hope this is good

THANK YOU

Thank you oh my GODDD. Honestly Ghiaccio drives me NUTS I NEED HIM. I Hope I interpret it  right.

____________________________________________

Honestly, everyone at the base just kinda KNEW Ghiaccio was somewhere on the homo-scale. No one knew what though. They had only seen him with a few women, all who only dated him for a few weeks and couldn’t handle him

He jokes that maybe he’ll look another man’s way, but it doesn’t seem like he will he’s too scared

But actually, he doesn’t really understand when a guys flirting with him unlike a women. He only understands Melone’s flirting because it’s Melone, but another guy flirting with him? — YOU flirting with him?? He gets awkward and flustered, and he gets frustrated and just goes as red as his glasses.

He will shove you away awkwardly and storm off. Don’t take it personally though.

He’s having a whole sexuality crisis. He doesn’t know what exactly is going on, because yea, he can appreciate a man, but you’re making him REALLY appreciate a man.

He doesn’t really know what to do with his feelings at the moment. He feels awkward

He’s not really good at talking about them either, so to be safe he just stops talking to you for a while

He’s angry, but not at you. He will be avoiding you for weeks though.

He also doesn’t know where to turn. He can’t talk to Melone about it, because it’s self explanatory, and the only other person he trusts is Rissotto, but he’s not gonna talk to his CAPO about this!!

Maybe let it slip out in front of Prosciutto, only because he’s actually an okay advice giver.

Prosciutto just told him to date you, and he lost his mind. Literally went bat shit banana monkey crazy.

After all of the avoidance you two were put on a mission together to “make up” because Rissotto cannot have conflict in between his gang members. So reluctantly and happily he has to be with you (Prosciutto recommended Rissotto to do this, he will take credit for everything)

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

Awkward silence and tired screeching was all that could be heard at the current moment. Ghiaccio was quiet and driving his car faster than usual, almost as if he just wanted to get it all over with. Eventually, he slammed on his breaks, flinging you forward slightly. You clutched onto your seatbelt, looking at him. “What’s wrong? You just almost blew a red light and now your slamming on your damn breaks like a maniac!” He turned to you, sucking his teeth and looking annoyed.

“Haven’t you realized something?? You’re just throwing me off and it’s pissing me off!” He yelled, slamming on the gas and going once the light turned green. His face was a tad bit un-readable, but his body language was clear as day. He seemed a bit on-edge, not knowing what to say. You spoke up again “what are you talking a—“ “The damn flirting! The way you look at me, the way you act! Everything! You’ve got me questioning myself! I don’t get it!” He then turned down a street so fast you guys almost drifted off of the road. He then pulled over, slamming his hands onto the wheel. You sat there awkwardly, not really knowing what to say.

“I know I never said I was, straight, but now you’re making me think I’m actually gay.” That sentence actually didn’t make sense. The smart guy, the literal grammar police, just said something dumb? “What?” You asked, he started to talk more. “Like, as in, I was questioning for a while, I mean, I think you turned me gay.” Huh. Was that meant to be a compliment? Or was it backhanded? “Being gay isn’t contag—“ “I know! I know! But like, just recently I’ve been looking at you more than like, any women, or anyone.” Then it clicked for both you and him. This mf just had a gay awakening. Poor boy had his first guy crush and didn’t even know what he was doing. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? Almost crashed the car and killed us for?” You asked. He stayed silent. Then you started to talk it out with him.

After the conversation, you guys had to rush and get the mission done, and safe to say, you guys returned to the base “reluctantly” holding hands because a stand user attack, and that you guys “would totally not hold hands if you had a choice” in Ghiaccio’s words. (There was no stand attack; he just lied to hold your hand with out being awkward about it in front of everyone) (everyone, and I mean EVERYONE knew he was lying)

[dr-futbol-blog]

The Storm/The Eye, Pt. 8

Elsewhere, McKay and Weir are also working hard to save Sheppard (and Sheppard alone, since they don't know about anyone else in the city). McKay is trying to get his plan to work with the subroutines as fast as he can, and Weir asks him to stall so that Sheppard has enough time not to get electrocuted by the plan to save him working.

And again, when push comes to shove, McKay who believes himself a terrible liar lies like a pro to save both Sheppard and Weir, inventing codes they need to insert. They both seem ready to even lose the city before losing him. McKay allowing himself to get slapped by Kolya is small compared to that, he doesn't even have to think twice about it as he provokes a complete sociopath to distract him.

Again, while he is capable of lying when it's needed, he's also successfully using the truth to buy Sheppard more time. This is what he believes about himself. But that's not what we've been seeing all day, at all.

Their bluff backfires when Kolya decides to abandon ship, as he intends to take both of them with him as "payment for what they've done". Again, he's treating McKay as an extension of Sheppard (also, to a lesser degree Weir, but McKay's "What we've done?!" just underlines his role in all of this). Both Weir and McKay were protecting Sheppard, which is why they both really start panicking only when the Genii soldiers start leading them away from where they would have been able to engage the shield as soon as they knew Sheppard was somewhere safe.

The climax of the episode happens with Kolya holding Weir hostage in front of the stargate. Note, however, that Sheppard makes sure, before he does anything, that McKay is safe. Like, you could interpret it as Sheppard pawning saving McKay off to Ford while he himself went off to save Weir, but that's not really what happened. Clearly, Kolya was the biggest threat in the room which is why it made sense for Sheppard to go after him first. But the very first thing he did, before making any kind of a move, was to make sure that McKay was safe (and "You got McKay?" is a question, he is making sure).

Earlier, he made sure that Ford has on him a gun capable of killing people instead of a stunner. Then he makes sure that while he takes out their primary target that the whole attention of the second best soldier in the whole expedition, who he also had hand-picked for his own team, that his whole attention was on keeping McKay safe for him while he took out the person that threatened him with killing McKay pretty much all the day long.

However you interpret Sheppard's actions, Kolya damn sure thought of McKay as Sheppard's primary motivation. And he probably really hoped that he had McKay instead of Weir in front of him, as we come to Sheppard's BAMF moment at the end:

Yes, he's an expert marksman. He was able to shoot Col. Sumner very accurately in Rising (S01E02). And we know that he really wants to kill Kolya, having promised to do just that earlier in retribution for killing Weir.

But I wonder if he had been able to do this if it had been McKay instead of Weir. If he hadn't made sure that Rodney was safe first. If he had been able to focus, if his hand would have been steady, his aim firm, his breathing calm. If he had been so cavalier about the possibility of his death. I wonder.

So, Sheppard actually misses (if we assume that he had intended to make good of his promise to kill Kolya), managing to wound him and send him hurling down the Nakatomi Building into the event horizon. Weir is, understandably, shaken.

Weir is paralyzed by fear, possibly even in shock. She's a complete and total civilian, where McKay has actually been on missions and tight spots, even shoot outs (Suspicion, S0105), and hence is able to get swiftly out of the way when the shooting starts.

Sheppard: You okay? McKay: I'm fine. This is... this is fun for me.

So he makes sure that she's okay, leads her out of harm's way by hand because she doesn't seem capable of moving on her own. All very romantic. Only, she tells him that she's not okay and he kind of tells her to snap out of it: "You will be [fine]. Come on!"

Again, his tone of voice is not that of someone that just saved the love of his life or was in a really high pressure situation but someone that wants her to hurry up. What he does is shake her out of it and drag her by the hand to McKay up on the control platform because they all still need to be there for his plan to save the city to work. The one that it is revealed had been his plan all along, and they had just been fibbing and stalling the Genii to save Sheppard. Sheppard was executing McKay's plan by getting her to move on.

McKay is really anxious to get the shield up and save them all, but Beckett and Teyla are still missing. McKay tells them that they have 2,5 minutes, so Sheppard tells him to wait for two. And impending doom, city of the ancients about to be destroyed with the stargate that is the only way for anyone to ever get back to the Milky Way galaxy with all of them in it, McKay doesn't even argue. He just does what Sheppard asks. Just like that. Until the last possible moment.

This is the same sheepish look he gave Sheppard earlier in the day when he'd just been lashing out at his team and he walked in. Like he really, really disagreed but swallowed it all down because it's Sheppard.

For some reason, when it's time for McKay to save the city and the day, both Weir and Sheppard run toward him. And watch him work. Like getting real close to him and right up in his face is somehow going to make things work better or move faster. They all sure seem to think he's Superman or Mr. Fantastic right then. Sheppard especially looks at him like he's dumbstruck (because, as established before, for him McKay is the Big Damn Hero).

Sheppard does the thing with his lip. Might be that he wants to say something in what could be their final moments that he can't say.

Could be Rodney does too:

Instead, he seems to suddenly notice that Beckett is also in the room:

McKay: Carson. Beckett: Rodney. McKay: Just in time to see how this ends, huh?

He's saying good-bye, he's comforting them by inserting levity into the situation, making it less emotionally heavy. Even here, in what could have been their final moment, he's trying to help Sheppard by turning an intensely emotional moment that he can't deal with (see every other time he does the lip thing) into something more manageable while still getting to say good-bye just in case. By saying it to Beckett instead (who, it should be noted, he was willing to sacrifice to save the city just a moment ago). Beckett isn't who he wants to say good-bye to. Who he's trying very hard not to look at here.

The plan works, and they have the following exchange:

Weir: Nice work, Rodney! McKay: Did you ever doubt me? Weir: Yes! Several times!

She may have doubted him. But I can spot someone that never did, not for one moment.

The way Sheppard is looking at him. I can't. I just. Can't.

Sheppard turns and says "I see you made a new friend, Teyla!" and his tone of voice tells us that he wanted to say something entirely different. Just like Rodney said his good-bye to Beckett instead of the person he wanted to say it to, Sheppard expresses his gratitude to Teyla instead of the person he wants to say it to. And the words that they are saying are entirely different from the meaning conveyed. It's misattribution or a kind of projection meant to reduce anxiety.*

Both his tone and his expression are just way out of whack with what he's saying (his tone is kind of like Teyla had just brought in a unicorn or something, like he's never seen a friend before). He actually glances at Rodney as he's saying it. He's trying so very hard not to look at him with a face that has Christmas morning all over it.

All is well that ends well, we are lead to believe. We finish with Weir and Sheppard up on the balcony watching the expedition return from their short exile. We are meant to understand that this ordeal has brought Weir and Sheppard closer together. They are standing very close, although note that Weir is standing behind him, sort of boxing him in.

McKay joins them and we get something very different from how we started this story, where Sheppard was seeking McKay out, trying to coax reactions out of him, getting too close to him, watching him pretty much all the time, his body actually drawn to the other man.

Here, he turns away, gives a short, noncommittal reply to Rodney's direct question, and otherwise only engages Weir. He is acting different.

Some people see Sheppard smile here. He smiles briefly where they can see but as he turns his face away from them, he does the lip thing and swallows hard. Like, it's meant to be a humorous moment that Beckett wasn't able to patch Rodney up and he had to do it himself and he knows about as much about medicine as Beckett does about engineering. Oh, that Rodney McKay. So silly, so inept in non-science things.

But that, my friends, is pure pain on Sheppard's face that he doesn't want them to see. He let that happen. He let them injure McKay. And a lot worse could have happened. He came so close to losing him. This reaction, on his face? That's all because of Rodney.

He's able to stand there, chit-chatting with Weir like everything's back to normal. He can't even look at Rodney. Does not glance at him once here. He looks away from him, very pointedly stares at nothing when Rodney is talking. He's very obviously avoiding his eyes. He doesn't want to be left alone with him. He turns his whole body away, turns his back on him.

Because John Sheppard has just been reminded that caring so much about someone that you are constantly putting into danger is a Really Bad Idea. People on his team that he cares about die like Dex and Mitch (and Capt. Holland, as we later learn). The more he cares about someone, the more likely it is that they're going to die horrible deaths because of him. Kolya was using McKay to get to him, to punish him. To get payback on him. He survived this time but not unscathed. He tells Weir: "You're extremely optimistic, you know that?" Because he is not feeling optimistic at all right then, quite the opposite.

He's pretending like everything's back to normal. It's not. It's not that this ordeal brought him and Weir closer together, it's that he's trying to create distance between himself and McKay and he's using Weir to do that. Comparing the start and the end of the story, it becomes so painfully obvious what's happening.

McKay was trying to reconnect here. To cheer him up. It's possible the bandage thing was exactly that, an attempt to turn it into a joke, to remind Sheppard that everything is going to be fine, no permanent harm done. Get a chuckle out of him. Except, John Sheppard has been reminded that his love is poison. He has to protect himself from falling any harder. And most of all, he has to protect Rodney McKay from getting too close to him. Sheppard cares about him too much to allow him to die because of him.

The thing is, Sheppard never got to see how hard they were working to save him, to keep him safe. How much they were willing to sacrifice for him. He only saw what he had to do to save them (again, he killed a. lot. of. people, fellow soldiers, basically innocent men just following orders; at the end of the season he confesses to Col. Sumner's fiend that he's the one who has to live with the guilt). Neither he nor Rodney recognize their own inherent worth. Both, for their own reasons, believe that someone loving them can only be a mistake. And that is the tragedy.

.* "Projection reduces anxiety by allowing the expression of the undesirable impulses or desires without becoming consciously aware of them; attributing one's own unacknowledged, unacceptable, or unwanted thoughts and emotions to another."

[dailyadventureprompts]

Dungeon: The Fleetbreaker’s Bones

“More than three hundred years dead and rotting and it’s still going to kill us all. That’s dedication right there.”

-Tousu, hapless deckhand moments before a wreck

The remnants of this great kaiju turned fossil-reef has been swallowing up ships for centuries, a habit it’s not managed to break despite a great hero spearing it to a volcanic atoll and founding a prosperous kingdom over the territory it never would have ceded in life. Underwater lava flows create boiling mists and unstable weather patterns making sailing anywhere near the island a gamble. Ships lost in storms throughout the region seem invariably pulled towards the reef, leading many in villages along the coast to speculate that not even death can sate the great beast’s hunger.

In more recent years a ramshackle band of corsairs has decided to make the Reef their home, having suffered a disastrous defeat while raiding the mainland and needing somewhere, no matter how inhospitable, to regroup.  The Fleetbreaker ironically provided the perfect safe harbour, close enough to the trading lanes to raid, far enough out of anyone’s way and into unfriendly waters that reprisal was unlikely. They’ve had such success that they’ve been able to cobble together dwellings and fortifications across the reef, as well as a knocked together shipyard in the sheltered caverns that were one the kaiju’s belly.

Adventure Hooks:

The Fleetbreaker Pirates have managed to chart the rhythm of the atoll’s seemingly unpredictable weather, following in the wake of storms like scavengers after a bloodthirsty predator. With the party’s vessel having barely survived the night battling a sulfurous smelling gale, they’ll have to act quickly as first light and the hope that comes with it is dashed by the appearance of enemy vessels on the horizon.

Captured at sea (or perhaps after having one too many rounds of grog while in port) the party find themselves clapped in irons, stripped of their gear, and locked in a series of muggy stone cells. The Fleetbreakers deal in slaves as well as plundered goods, and it’s only a matter of weeks or maybe even days before their buyer shows up to trade in flesh. They have to escape, but how? Sneak out just their friends and disguise themselves on an enemy ship? Break out the other innocents and risk detection?

There are many sections of the great fossil reef where the pirates do not go, tidal warrens inhabited by skittering things made monstrous by generations of feeding off kaiju flesh, boiling caverns where lava vents glow just beneith the surface of the water and odd shapes move in the mineral vapour, lofty and winding passages leading to the lonlely spinal cliffs where the sound of strange birds causes hallucinations. Somewhere among all of this is the hero’s spear, a divinely invested artifact that has the power to found, and perhaps destroy kingdoms. The party may unwittingly stumble across this artifact while escaping captivity, or find it in a dramatic moment as they pursue the last of the pirate captains into the caverns in their final push to oust the corsairs once and for all. What they do with it after that is all up to them.

[elmoslungcancer]

Howl x Male reader

Angst? Happy ending

Lowercase when words should be uppercase is probably common. As well as there is probably incorrect punctuation.

Big ass paragraphs as well.

Went to look at my drafts and saw this calling my name.

It was peaceful and quiet. Calcifer's fire makes the room feel warm, cozy, and safe. You don't wake up because of the quietness, you wake up because there is no chaos hell even Calcifer isn't talking up a storm.

Howl had a break down earlier and ran off somewhere you were waiting for him, lately every time something doesn't go his way it seems to set off a bomb inside of him. He isn't the best with expressing his feelings all you wish he would do is talk it out as a normal couple. Though it is better than screaming at you and having to clean up the green goo.

As you toss another log to calcifer even though he already has three, you sit back on the rocking chair, and you wait hoping to hear the click. You want to see his face; you want to scream at him, you want to be angry at him, you want to ignore him, give him the silent treatment when he tries to act like nothing happened, but who are you fooling to think you'll just ignore him.

You hear the wheel click at least you thought you did. It could be anyone though. Was it Sofie? She's a sweet girl, but lately she's been working on her hat business. Plus it was too late for her to be coming here. You've tucked Markl into bed already. Even though he claims he's a big boy that can take care of himself, he still loves it when you tuck him in, read him a story, give him a kiss on the forehead, and wish him sweet dreams as you shut his door.

You start to feel drowsy so you get off the rocking chair and give calcifer another log, even though he insists he will be good for the night. You tell him it's a treat, to think of it as a thank you for keeping you company, and keeping you warm. While you walk up to the table you pick a plate and lay it on the table, and you grab a box of some pastries you got early from a bakery. The ladies there were so sweet and kind it made you smile a little while setting some on the plate for when he returns.

You close the box and leave the it on the counter, not on a shelf too high in case Markl wakes up in the night, and wants a quick snack before he goes back to bed. You rinse and dry your hands off and walk upstairs, but not without saying goodnight Calcifer. As you lay on the bed you stare up at the ceiling where clocks stare back at you. You know this isn't a healthy relationship. Yes fights are common in relationships healthy or not. Not being able to talk about them because your partner is having a tantrum, and you have no clue where he is not normal.

You want to set boundaries no you need to. You can't be the only one wanting to make this work out. You hear the door open and hear Calcifer screaming, "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED M/N WAS?" There was no point it was a cycle. After Howl comes back home from wherever he decided to head off to. He ignores Calcifer, heads upstairs takes a shower and comes to lay down in bed with you. You start to fall asleep but then you feel a body next to you hugging you from behind. You try to ignore it as he always does this but then you feel him start to cry. You feel shocked because he usually just passes out, but this is new.

"m/n.." he mumbles in-between your shirt and his hiccups. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry! What I'm doing is wrong..I want to break out of those habits...but I can't it's hard. It's not right for me to drag you with me. Please let me make it up to you." He says as he buries his head deeper into your back and holds onto you tighter. So you tap his arms signaling him to let go, he does as well as scooting back to give you some space. You turn to face him, but seeing his tear stained face hurts you. You always hated seeing Howl cry. You cup his face and nuzzle noses together.

"Howl, yes I am upset you keep running away instead of talking this out like adults. I want you to try to stop doing it, I know it won't happen right away as it's a cycle for you, but I want you to try to break that cycle." You say as you pet his hair and move it out the way to give him a forehead kiss. His eyes widden and start filling up with tears and he buries his head in your chest. You pet his hair as his body shakes.

"I love you Howl and I want us to work, but it takes two. We will talk more later in the morning. I want us to set boundaries, I want you to tell me what's a clear no in your book, and what's in mine. Let's rest for now, but I want you to know I love you very much Howl and don't forget it." As you finish you kiss his head and wrap your arms around him.

How writing this made me feel:

Anyways thanks for reading