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msbigredmachine · 2 years ago

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TARGETS - 27 - In The Mouth of Darkness

Roman Reigns is an agent in the secret organization The Authority and one of the world’s deadliest assassins. When he crosses paths with a mysterious woman during an assignment, he makes a life-changing decision that switches his role from the hunter to the hunted. (AU Espionage Story)

TARGETS MASTERLIST

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Roman leaned against the wall of the van he was ensconced in, staring dully at the heap of clothes in front of him, seeing them without seeing them. His mind was somewhere else, spinning with a million thoughts - all of them centered on his love.

It seemed impossible that six hours had elapsed since he had last seen Jasmine; six hours since she left Leona's house. Since then, he'd replayed their last encounter several times in his mind, reducing it to the fragmented haze of sight and sensation that all treasured memories seem to consist of. He recalled what she said before she left, remembered what she had been wearing - heck, he could still remember the warm softness of her lips beneath his as he kissed her, the determined look in her eyes before she walked out that door. If he'd known this would happen, that that psychopath would take her, he'd have barricaded the doors and kept her inside and in the safety of his arms.

That Corbin had Jasmine, frankly, terrified Roman. If that bastard had his way, he would never see her again. If he lost Jasmine today, he wouldn't know what to do with himself, he honestly didn't. But he could not allow himself to think like that. He knew firsthand that his girlfriend was a firebrand, a fighter. There was little doubt in the Samoan’s mind that she was going to survive Baron and be reunited with him.

Roman had hitchhiked on a laundry delivery truck, hiding out among the dirty clothing. It wasn't a problem for him, as he'd staked out in worse places for agonizingly long periods of time. He recalled his phone conversation with Dean and Seth a couple of hours ago.

"What exactly is the plan, Reigns?" Dean asked. "After this...after you rescue Jasmine...what are you going to do?"

"We're going to bring the Companies down," Roman answered him, "both of us."

"What?" Seth and Dean exclaimed, their voices so loud that Roman actually had to hold the phone away from his ear.

"Bring the companies down? You tellin’ us you wanna bring down F.L.O.R.A. and the Authority?" Dean repeated incredulously, "Have you lost your fuckin' mind? How the hell do you expect to bring down two groups of the world's deadliest assassins all by yourselves? And need I remind you that even if you do rescue Jasmine intact...Corbin would have done some serious damage, you know that. She may be in no shape, physical or mental, to do anything by the time he's through with her."

Roman wished he could explain himself further. He knew they both wanted in on the action. But he couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let them get in harm's way. Not for him. "There's a plan in place, don't worry," he assured them. "But right now, the less you know the better. And if Jasmine and I do make it out of this mess, we've got a one-way ticket to Jamaica. And if we don't make it..." He watched their eyes widen. "I've asked Leona to head there if she doesn't hear from me. I want you to do the same. Both of you."

"You're joking," said Seth, stunned. "You want us to run?"

"Not run. Walk away. Start over. Skip town and this God-forsaken life behind. You deserve better lives than this and you both know it," Roman replied fiercely. And the silence that followed proved him right.

"Still...Dude, let us help you. I can get Dean to turn the car around right now," Seth pleaded.

"I can't let you do that. This is my fight. I got into this mess all on my own. I can't get you involved any further and have them chasing after you for the rest of your lives."

"Meh, they know we're involved already. We’ll take our chances," said Dean, "Corbin won't be in that building without backup. You need us, man."

"I don't care how many people are in there; I'll kill them all for hurting her." He paused and swallowed hard, the emotion threatening to take over again. He finally understood why sentiment was outlawed in this business; the pain of losing someone you cared about was overwhelming, all-consuming, and almost impossible to recover. But the former Authority agent knew he needed to put that aside and focus on getting this done, like any other assignment.

"Remember, boys. Jamaica," he reminded them. "I will meet you there as soon as possible."

"Your ass had better be there," snarled Dean, "You got a week to show up, and if you don't, I swear to God I'll come right back to the States and take out your fuckin' ghost."

Roman nearly laughed at the threat. He was sure he meant it, too. "I'll be there. We’ll both be there. I promise."

"Good. It’s about damn time we met the woman that’s stolen our boy’s heart,” Seth said with a deep, resigned sigh. “Get rid of the phone the moment you can, alright?"

"Will do. I'll see you soon, boys." And with that, Roman had hung up.

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He sniffed the air, and was instantly taken back in time. He knew exactly where he was. It took a bit of effort, but he broke out of the laundry truck and jumped out, relieved that he hadn't hurt himself as he did so. Looking across the road, he was spot on with his calculations. Roman could feel his fingers itch with eagerness. Shaking his muscular shoulders, he set off towards the building. In other circumstances, he would have given more time for to scout the area, but time was something he was lacking right now. Every second lost took Jasmine further away from his reach.

His walk was somber, subdued but determined, and a reminiscent chill swept through him as he crossed the tarred road. Yeah, this was it. This was the very place where he'd first got involved with The Authority. Unfortunately the ‘meeting’ hadn't gone very well; He was a bystander then, a hungry punk kid fresh out of prison and finding his way around Vermont, looking for some food to get him through the day. The warehouse looked like a good place to start. He ended up stumbling on an active ‘interrogation’ and the sight of a man in a chair covered in blood. Kevin Owens spotted him. He remembered fighting for his life against Owens, remembered the helplessness he felt as Owens stood over him, a bloodthirsty look in his eyes, sadistic enjoyment practically oozing off of every word he spoke...

"Sorry, man; you're at the wrong place at a very wrong time..."

That night changed his life forever. But by the time all of this was over, they would wish they let him go. They would regret ever crossing Roman Reigns. Every single one of them. And he would start with Corbin. That was a promise.

He dragged his beanie hat over his tied-up hair, hands in pockets, looking like just another pedestrian. He watched as a hooded man slipped in through the lone door at the side of the building and shut it behind him. Locked, surely. Approaching the door, he began working on the lock, looking around a number of times to make sure no one was watching him. The door opened successfully after a couple of tries. The area was blanketed in darkness, stuffy and uncomfortable. Perfect conditions for him. He navigated inside, his eyes adjusting quickly to the darkness. He made his way quietly down a flight of stairs towards the basements, where he had deduced Jasmine was being kept. Just as he thought, there were people standing guard; two men and a woman. He recognized them all; former Authority recruits. One of the men, Trick, if he recalled his name, stood there at the bottom of the stairs, oblivious to the intruder behind him. Withdrawing his gun, Roman aimed it at the back of Trick’s head and fired, the silencer giving nothing away. He stepped over the agent's body and kept walking like nothing had happened.

He made quick work of the other two, Dijak and Jakara, the woman. Their presence meant that Roman was at the right place. Both had dark hoodies slung over their heads and guns in their grasp as they patrolled the long, straight corridor. Roman moved quietly, ensuring to remain in the shadows. His footsteps were silent, invisible to the naked eye or ear. He approached Jakara from behind, locked his hands around her head and twisted it brutally to the side. Dijak received a bullet in the head for his troubles. He confiscated their weapons and continued on his way.

As Dean had shown him, there was a long line of doors along both parts of the corridor. Roman resolutely picked open the locks of each one, his heart pounding with anticipation and hope. But each door produced nothing. Time after time, hope after hope was dashed. And Baron was still nowhere to be seen.

He had pushed open the very last door, almost certain that he'd been too late, when his gaze landed on the slender figure dangling in the middle of the room. He recognized the person instantly, and shock flooded his body.

Her red wig was gone. Her dark hair was limp and dirty and tinged with blood. She was suspended in the air, heavy chains binding her arms above her head, her feet off the floor with her legs shackled together. Her half-naked body exposed the cuts and bruises littering her skin. There were deep, nasty-looking gashes along her stomach and both of her thighs. Corbin had hurt her. Badly. And Roman would make sure he paid if it was the last thing he did.

Rushing into the room, he aimed his gun and fired at the chain holding her arms hostage. He caught her before she dropped to the ground. Gently cupping her head, a sob nearly escaped his throat when he took a look at her face for the first time. It was battered and streaked with blood, and her eyes were swollen shut. Roman placed a gentle palm on her cheek. "Jasmine, wake up. It's me. Please wake up, baby."

She stirred, a small groan emanating from her. Squinting through swollen eyes at him, she gasped with surprise. "Roman?" she whispered. Her voice was incredibly weak. Roman felt the tears sting his eyes. "Oh, thank God," he breathed, bringing his forehead to hers.

Tears filled her eyes. "You're here. You found me."

He pushed his lips against hers and stroked her lank hair. "Of course I did. I told you I would." His bottom lip trembled, and it was all he could do not to break down in front of her. He couldn't describe the relief he felt that she was alive. "I'm so sorry, baby girl."

"Don't be," A sad smile tugged at her full lips. "Just get me out of here, and hurry. I don't know where he's gone or how long for."

"I'm on it. Is anything broken?" he inquired, just to make sure.

"No." Jasmine winced and hissed in pain when she brought her arms to her front. She was hurting everywhere; her entire body felt like she had third-degree burns, and it didn't help that this was the first time she could move in over six hours. Roman came back in front of her and unshackled her legs. His gaze drifted to the spot on her thigh where the branding iron had struck her, leaving an ugly wound that looked like it was infected. As he gingerly touched the area, Jasmine violently flinched with another hiss, and he regretted causing her pain. He eyed the bruises on her inner thighs, and looked up tentatively at his girlfriend, already dreading the answer to what he was about to ask. "Corbin...did he…do anything else?"

Jasmine swallowed hard, tears of shame rising. "He...touched me…He…put his fingers inside me," she clarified meekly. The heartbroken look on his face made her want to actually cry. "I'm sorry...I tried to stop him, I swear-"

"Hey, hey!" His hand was back on her face, his lips on her bruised cheek, soothing her, assuring her, "It wasn't your fault. You hear me? He did this." Jasmine's head was bowed as she nodded. Roman trembled with fury and hatred. "And he gon’ fucking pay. I'll kill him," he growled. "I'll rip his fucking balls out and feed them to him."

"Not if I kill him first," Jasmine told him, and Roman smiled as that familiar fire of hers flickered again. "Come on, let's get you to your feet," he said. "I can carry you out of here. Can you move for me?"

"I'll try." She glanced up, her gaze immediately drifted to the door. "Roman, look out!" she screamed.

The sound of the gunshot echoed all around the room.

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Thoughts?

Credit to the owners of the pics and the gifs.

Please leave comments. I love comments!

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns imagines #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x black oc

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alons-ycreeper · 2 years ago

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(The Solitary Clone got me to revisit the last installment of my Clone²AU and rewrite it. Here are parts [1] and [2]. Enjoy!)

- Order 66 went out but Cody was able to fight it off for just a little while, long enough to hide Omega and stumble away far enough to stun himself with his own blaster as he feels his control slipping. When he wakes up next, it's been 2 months since the Temple raid and his daughter is not where he left her.

- Cody had been contemplating going AWOL since he gained his own consciousness again. Then he finds out Crosshair is alive and holds out a little longer. Seeing and fighting beside Crosshair again makes Cody have hope, but then younger clone crushes that hope when he brings up the Jedi. Cody wonders if Crosshair even remembers Omega.

- After being captured by Rampart, Cody is quietly transported back to Kamino. Now two decades older than when he started but chronologically only half of that, the former commander spends his days on Timira City on his forsaken homeworld training imperial cadets. He thinks they're worthless yet they've attached themselves to him and the nat-born CO he's been given is a creep that puts Cody in uncomfortable situations.

- The Third Sister requests for him specifically. She's going hunting—hunting for Kenobi. Her chase leads them to Daiyu. To add insult to injury it's rumored that Kenobi has been seen with a child who may very well be Force-sensitive. Cody wants to have hope so badly but even if he just finds the old master he'll feel some small peace.

- He finds Kenobi along with a little girl who shares Cody's face. They see him and freeze. Kenobi's eyes know him instantly, pushing the girl behind him. Many things pass through the clone's head only to end up saying "You need to hide." They're running as fast as they can. Kenobi's hand gripped tightly in his while Cody carries Omega and she clings to his unless stormtrooper pauldron. The Third Sister jumps down from the rooftops, saber blazing bright red. Cody is too focused on how they're going to get out of there that he doesn't register Obi-Wan talking to someone on his commlink. Then suddenly the Havoc Marauder is in front of them but he has no time to question it because the young Inquisitor is right behind them and she's pissed.

- Coming face to face with the Bad Batch after a decade of not seeing each other is awkward. They don't know if they can trust Cody or not but Omega ultimately makes the decision for them. She wants to know her father and she's letting anyone take him away again. The Batch reassure her that they never intended to get rid of Cody but his chip is a danger to both them and himself. (Hunter makes a comment about already losing one brother protect Omega and Obi-Wan and how they're not willing to lose another. Cody notices that Crosshair still isn't with the group.) Tech searches for the nearest Rebel base and heads for Jabiim.

- Once on Jabiim, Kawlan Roken talks with Ben about Omega and Cody. "That's really his daughter you've been raising?" "Yes." "Will they be going through the Path?" "No. I can protect us." "You sure about that?" "I already lost him once I'm not losing him again." Ben knows Roken is just trying to make sure he's got a clear head about what he's doing, but Ben had already up his mind the moment he saw Cody standing at the other end of that alleyway.

- When the Imperial cadets heard their commander had been stolen by a Jedi they rally and volunteer to aid the Third Sister in her hunt for Kenobi. They vow to bring their commander home.

- Vader has other plans for the commander. Ones that involve watching Kenobi beg for mercy as takes the last bit of his light from the galaxy. But before he can do that he must extract vital information from the clone regarding the whereabouts of his beloved captain.

- Meanwhile on Tatooine, Rex sits in the dark of his and the twins' bedroom. Luke and Leia are fast asleep as he watches a holo message from Bail Organa. The Alderaan senator has been kind enough to send updates on Ahsoka whenever he can. It eases Rex just a little knowing his first kid was somewhere safe in this horrifying galaxy.

(This is where I'm ending it because I've got nothing else.)

#clone²au #rex'buir au #codywan kinda #commander cody

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destielfanfic · 3 years ago

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from the inbox, #3

There’s a backlog of unanswered asks in our ask box and, since answering them privately takes a lot of time without any guarantee that the answer will actually be delivered, I decided to answer some asks that would benefit a wider audience here.

hi! I was wondering if you knew of any estranged Sam fics where for whatever reason Dean and Sam have a falling out, and when they decide to work things out, Dean is already in a relationship with Cas? I've read Shifter (thanks for the rec!) and New Heaven Over a Brand New Sky (vvv good, I finished it ~2hrs ago), but most blindsided Sam fics have him finding out they've been secretly hooking up. thank you in advance and thanks for the amazing work you guys do here!!

Fics mentioned in this ask - All Things New Again series by sullymygoodname ( New Heaven Over a Brand New Sky is the second work in this series) and Shifter by LadyLini (submitted rec)

ok so i’m a slut for fics where dean and sam are estranged, especially where dean is the wronged party and sam has to make amends. i’ve read everything relevant in the reunion tag and i’m jonesing for more. i especially love the no monsters aus where sam storms out of john and dean’s lives only to realize later that dean was john’s victim too, and comes crawling back only to find dean free of john and living his best life with cas (and co). if y’all have any suggestions i would be so grateful!! love u guys and al u do <3

Soooo, you are gonna love our asks about jealous jerkass Sam!

ask about fics where Sam doesn’t understand Dean and Cas relationship and is being bitchy about it

Sam is unsupportive of Dean and Cas relationship

Sam and/or Gabriel’s actions harm Dean and Cas’ relationship

And here is a short rec list with emphasis on Dean and Sam having a strained relationship or serious falling out, reuniting at the end of the fic; few recs are from Sam and Dean Reunion ask, ask about Dean figuring out his attraction to men by himself, and ask about solo hunter Dean.

bloody, but unbowed (unofficially recced here) by shootingstarcas - Sam stayed at Stanford, Dean has a hunting buddy (SU AU)

The Dance of Inanna by peppermintwind - Sam has hard time to let Dean to be with Cas. (season 8)

Take Me Home Country Roads by saltyfeathers - well, not falling out really, just, when Sam realized that Dean is a demon, he bailed and returned only when Dean was human again. (SU, post season 9)

These Forsaken Lands by destielpasta - Mark of Cain!dean is avoiding Sam and solving a monster case with Cas. (SU, season 9)

Asunder by rageprufrock - estranged but the fic is about mending their relationship (AU)

Empty Spaces by schmerzerling - heed the tags! Dean is mistreated by everyone except for Cas, John is a POS and Sam left Dean to deal with him. (AU)

Fortunate Son by atheclena - Dean and Cas are engaged and Mary, John and Sam are total jerks about it. (AU)

it’s a lot like life by LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch - Sam messes up Dean and Cas’ secret affair. (Historical AU)

Master of Reality by peppermintwind - teens Dean and Sam are homeless, Dean does his best to provide while Sam sometimes is ungrateful (AU)

Moonshine Lullaby by akadougal & tiptoe39 - Sam is condescending and homophobic (Historical AU)

And not to be accused of hating on Sam too much, here’s an ask about destiel fics with more than usual focus on Sam ;)

After John's journal came out, I've really been in the mood for fics where Castiel beats up John Winchester - like in the fic "In Lebanon" and surely plenty of others. I've browsed "John Finds Out" tags but are there any other recommendations out there? Dean deserved better and I want Cas to go avenging angel on John's hide.

First fic that comes to mind is a turn of the earth by microcomets, but that is really just one scene in a 95k long fic. And if I remember correctly, Cas rather spectacularly punches John in Something Unexpected by cloudyjenn. [Link to #John Finds Out tag.]

For a more recent recs, check out this “Dean or Cas confronts John” rec list made by @dadstiel!

#destiel #fic rec #from the inbox #su #au #asks #meddling!sam #john #archive fic rec

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rubyinasnuggie · 3 years ago

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Au headcanons of what the heroes fear? I can see Yang being afraid of bugs because they get in her hair.

okay this is actually one i've thought about a lot!! i'm sure a lot of u have heard of it but i listened to the magnus archives in 2019 and ever since i've been assigning things and characters to the different entities!

ruby is the slaughter

the fear of unpredictable, unmotivated violence. The fear of pain coming at sudden, random moments.

manifests as people driven "mad with Slaughter," soldiers, music that either induces Slaughter or warns that Slaughter is coming. Often manifests in imagery of war or murder, and can appear wild like a frenzied killer or calm and regimented like soldiers firing on the battlefield.

weiss is the lonely

also called Forsaken, The One Alone.

the fear of isolation, of being completely cut off and alone or disconnected from the rest of society.

manifests as fog, large rooms, silence, crowds of faceless people.

blake is the hunt

the animalistic fear of being chased or hunted; the primal fear of being prey.

manifests as predators, predatory monsters, animal instincts, animalistic traits.

takes hold of apparently "normal" people after they are exposed to the need for The Hunt. Self-proclaimed monster hunters might become 'Hunters' and proceed to develop a need to hunt and kill monsters.

yang is the desolation

also called The Lightless Flame, The Torturing Flame, The Devastation, The Blackened Earth, The Ravening Burn, Asag.

the fear of pain, loss, burning, and destruction, especially with a senseless cause.

followers are enriched by destroying the lives of people who had things to live for, and destroying things before their potential is realised.

manifests as fire, wax, heat, burns, destruction of potential

i think these are mostly self explanatory, but yeah, these are the deeply rooted ~thematic~ fears i think they have

HOWEVER! for things more like phobias:

Ruby used to be afraid of blood, but she's had enough exposure therapy she's not anymore. she's still afraid of bridges and the dark. she also has recurring nightmares about wandering ruined ranches and villages

Weiss is afraid of dolls and germs

Blake is afraid of spiders, cucumbers, and dogs

Yang is afraid of bugs (lol), heights, and deep sea creatures

(entity descriptions taken from the magnus archives wiki)

#asks #rwby headcanons #the magnus archives

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seventhstrife · 4 years ago

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SubScorp Week 2021 Day 3: AU Part 2

I hate that I have no self-control and have to make multiple posts for this lolololol

On AO3.

Part 1

When Hanzo woke, he knew immediately that he was not alone.

His eyes snapped open and he lurched upright, disoriented and tense.

His surroundings were unfamiliar, a fact that filled him with certain dread. His last memory was of trying to leave the bed of snow he'd been pushed into, how the dragon had only allowed him to stand so that it could nestle him into its side and curl up as if for a long rest. He remembered the deep, content cadence of its sigh as it settled with its huge head on Hanzo's lap.

As cold as it was, smothered in the dragon's hold, he'd been oddly...warm. And while Hanzo was no one's pet or prisoner, he was not so foolish as to disturb such a fearsome creature when its mood was in such a mercurial state, weakened and tired as it was. He'd resigned himself to being a dragon's pillow and had fallen asleep right there, hopeful that he could slip away in the small hours of the morning.

But waking up in an entirely new place had not been part of the plan. He barely took in the dark, polished stone of the room he was in or the thick furs that covered him across the lavish four-poster bed.

His surroundings were terrible for their strangeness, but what was worse was the man seated on the bed beside him, legs crossed, watching him. It was hard to see in the scant light that poured through the window as the sun just barely began to rise, but he thought he could just detect a small smile on those bearded lips.

"Good morning," the man greeted in a low, pleasant tone.

Hanzo went rigid. His hand snapped down to his side, but his weapons were gone—of course.

He risked exposing himself, but allowing capture was worse.

He summoned his flames, of a mind to send the man across the room with a ball of fire before he could so much as twitch—but the moment his light banished the shadows from the man's face, Hanzo stilled.

...It was his eyes. Pale white, nearly translucent, but in the flickering pulse of Hanzo's flames, they shined with a breathtaking iridescence that shifted with countless colors.

Pale-skinned and broad-shouldered, muscular arms bared by his dark robes, thick black hair pushed back from his face and beard trimmed short—he truly was a stranger to Hanzo in every sense of the word.

But, that scar. Those eyes. Hanzo knew those eyes.

The man's smile grew slightly, as if he knew exactly what Hanzo was thinking, and he threaded his fingers together, planted his elbows on his spread knees and perched his chin atop his hands, as if to better study Hanzo.

"Do you recognize me, pyromancer?"

Hanzo pursed his lips, wary. But even when he glared harder, tried to see some sort of flaw or deception, his eyes continued to scream a single truth.

But he did not have to admit it.

"I—I am clearly unwell," Hanzo said instead.

Without taking his eyes off of the man, he backed up until he was at the edge of the bed and quickly stood, head darting around as he tried to get his bearings, find the door. He looked back to the stranger and curled his fingers into a fist, flames threatening on the horizon.

"Why have you brought me here?"

"As impressive as your fire magic is," the man answered, "You would have succumbed to the cold. I thought it best to bring you to my home."

His home? Just judging from the simple, yet refined furnishings and ornate, carved walls, Hanzo assumed he was in some sort of palace.

His brow furrowed. This was making less and less sense. Some traveling lord had stumbled upon Hanzo and had simply—taken him in? In what appeared to be his own chambers?

No nobleman was that kind or giving. Hanzo knew.

Hanzo's skin itched with the desire to flee. Unfamiliar surroundings, unfamiliar company—he did not have any wish to linger here, at the mercy of this strange man and his stranger (familiar) eyes.

"Whatever you intended by bringing me here, it does not matter." Hanzo's face hardened. "You will not keep me here."

"No," the man agreed softly, making Hanzo pause. He was still smiling. "I imagine you do not succumb to anyone's will but your own."

The words caused a flicker of uncertainty to pass through him, though he did not allow it to show on his face. Why was nothing about this man proceeding as he expected? If Hanzo woke up, kidnapped to some strange, impossible palace in a snow-plagued, forsaken mountain, he should be caged. His captor should be talking to him through the bars of a prison, in his personal dungeon, not casually and comfortably sitting on his bed while Hanzo threatened to burn him.

...Somehow, some way, this is a trick. It must be.

It felt safer not to speak, so Hanzo did not. His eyes darted to the door, waiting across the room and, unfortunately, behind the man.

"Your weapons are there," the man said, gesturing with a wide sweep of his arm behind Hanzo, and indeed, when he warily glanced over his shoulder, he saw the overlooked table tucked into the corner of the room, where his blades had been laid neatly and carefully across a length of soft cloth. "Forgive me for taking the liberty, but I thought it best to divest you of them so you could rest more comfortably."

Hanzo glared at the man for a long moment. He only slept comfortably when he was armed these days.

Still, Hanzo accepted the invitation to take his things and he did so in quick, efficient movements, keeping the stranger in his line of sight at all times—not that it mattered, as the man did not so much as a twitch from the moment he'd awoken. His eyes tracked Hanzo without a blink and it was perhaps that which kept Hanzo on his guard. His utter stillness, the watching—Hanzo was rested, armed, and could think of a dozen ways to incapacitate this man in a few seconds, yet he felt overwhelmingly like an unwitting creature, soft and vulnerable, ignorant of the hunter in his midst, readying for the pounce.

Hanzo glanced at the door, had no more than thought of taking his first step towards the exit when the man spoke once more.

"Of course, you may leave whenever you wish," he said genially. "But you did not answer my question, pyromancer."

Hanzo's lips thinned. Uncertainty and unease blossomed in his chest.

"...no, I did not. I will not."

The stranger's head tilted and an expression of open amusement alighted on his face.

"Is it so terrible to accept?"

"It is impossible," Hanzo stressed, eyes narrowing. But, despite himself, his determination to fight faltered. He could not deny a certain curiosity, for all that he did not believe in magic such as this.

The man shrugged, affable as ever. It made Hanzo glare at him even more fiercely. It was irksome, how agreeable he was being...

Finally, the man moved, gave his back to Hanzo as he swung his legs off the bed and rose. Hanzo tensed when the man faced him and approached.

"That is far enough," Hanzo said in warning, raising two burning fists when the man was just outside of arm's reach.

"I have sheltered you and returned your weapons," the man pointed out. "Can you not accept I mean you no harm?"

"That remains to be seen," Hanzo replied, stiff.

Still, the man only seemed amused. He placed a palm on his breast, directly over his heart, and bowed, deeply.

"Then allow me to introduce myself. I am Kuai Liang."

A strange name for a strange man. It was oddly fitting.

Kuai Liang rose and those pale eyes of his fixed on Hanzo with the same intensity that had yet to lessen since Hanzo had first met them.

"May I know your name, pyromancer?"

Hanzo almost refused him, simply on principle. But...Kuai Liang had sheltered him in his home, had given him back his weapons, and he had shown no sign of wishing harm upon him.

It went against every instinct within him, but slowly, warily, Hanzo lowered his arms as the flames in his hands gutted, leaving behind smooth, unblemished skin.

"...Hanzo. Hanzo Hisashi."

Kuai Liang's eyes brightened with pleasure.

"Hanzo Hisashi," he repeated. The way he seemed to savor it—Hanzo could feel his hackles rising once more. "It is a pleasure to meet you." Kuai Liang stepped to the side, gestured with an open palm to the door. "Allow me to escort you," he said. "I'm afraid you will be easily lost without a guide."

Hearing that this building was that great a size did nothing to ease Hanzo's unease, but he supposed he had no choice.

"Very well."

Kuai Liang smiled.

Hanzo had hoped for a quick, silent walk, and to be able to put this entire strange encounter from his mind forever. Instead, when they'd only just left Kuai Liang's chambers, his stomach gave a loud, insistent cry.

Hanzo kept his gaze firmly on the ground, mortified as Kaui Liang turned to him in a sharp, surprised movement.

After a slight pause, Kuai Liang offered, "I have food if you wish—"

"No." Hanzo took a deep breath, tried to will back the rise of heat he could feel on his face. It was more important to leave this place. He could hunt for something once he was gone. "I am fine."

And, of course, his body chose that moment to betray him once more with another growl, sudden and painful enough he could not check the urge to hold his aching stomach. He could not remember the last time he had a decent, filling meal...

"I'm afraid I must insist," Kuai Liang said in a tone that brooked no argument. "I would be a poor host if I did not see you fed and prepped for your long journey down the mountain.”

Hanzo attempted to protest, but it was a losing battle and he was forced to follow after Kuai Liang, lest he truly be lost in his vast palace.

It was harder to remember the urgent need to be gone from this place when the smell of cooked meat grew stronger the further they went, and then impossible when Kuai Liang opened the door to a small cooking room, where a large flank of meat was still roasting over an open fire against the far wall.

The smell was heavenly and Hanzo was briefly hypnotized by the sight of hot, sizzling fat dripping from the meat, how it fell into the fire with a soft hiss and caused new bursts of the incredible aroma to permeate the room.

Perhaps...there was no harm in eating—so that he would not collapse on his hike, of course. It was only sensible to accept a meal when it was offered freely.

He tried not to seem too eager when he sat at the small wooden table Kuai Liang beckoned him to, but when Kuai Liang carved a generous portion of meat onto a large platter and served it to him, his smile twitched, threatening to grow wider at whatever expression Hanzo had.

It was slightly embarrassing, being caught so obviously, but Hanzo did not care the moment the meat first touched his tongue. Hot, tender venison, succulent and delicious. If he were a weaker man, he might weep.

For a while, there was only silence as he ate. It was not until he'd partially satiated his aching stomach that he realized Kuai Liang had not served himself.

He glanced up, unnerved to find Kuai Liang watching him, chin propped in one hand, a slight smile still lingering on his lips.

He appeared so...satisfied, by the sight of Hanzo eating. It made Hanzo freeze.

He glared.

"...Stop watching me," Hanzo demanded.

Kuai Liang's smile widened, but he acquiesced, leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He tilted his head back against the back of his chair and closed his eyes, looked for all the world as if he were simply meditating.

The way he kept instantly accomodating Hanzo—it was very annoying.

Hanzo resumed eating but did not stop glaring at Kuai Liang, trying—in vain—to puzzle him out. If Kuai Liang was aware of his staring, he did not seem bothered by it in the least.

This vast palace, Kuai Liang's own status, seemingly that of a man of wealth and power—he did not make sense. In Hanzo's travels, he had never heard of such a person having domain over this corner of the land, and yet here he was.

Who are you, truly?

His curiosity could not be denied, no matter how much he tried to quell it.

"Where are the people?" Hanzo finally asked.

It was perhaps not his most pressing question, but it was the one that was safer to ask. Down the labyrinthine halls to this modest cook's area, Hanzo had not seen nor heard so much as a whisper of another soul. Even here, in what was clearly a servant's domain, there was no one else to be found. Yet, a palace so large would need a large staff to maintain it.

Kuai Liang's eyes opened. "There are none."

Hanzo frowned, chews slowing, but Kuai Liang did not take back his words, just watched Hanzo back.

"...You live here by yourself?"

Kuai Liang inclined his head.

"How is that possible?"

Finally, Kuai Liang glanced away from him. His eyes dropped and his entire demeanor was suddenly—dampened, somehow. A subtle sort of sadness crept over Kuai Liang and it made Hanzo forget all about the sharp hunger pains that had burrowed into the pit of his stomach.

"Like you, I am the last of my kind."

...Oh. It was no secret that Hanzo's people were long gone—hunted to the brink of extinction for nothing more than sport. Mercenaries and outlaws, lowlifes and lords alike had participated in the massacre, eager to boast their fighting skills and claim the prestige of slaying an exotic, powerful pyromancer. If any of Hanzo's people still walked the lands, Hanzo had not met them. He hoped he never would. They were safer—he was safer, alone.

A life of constant movement, never settling anywhere, never staying in one town long enough for anyone to learn his name—it was a life he'd resigned himself to, one he thought, perhaps, suited him, even, but there were times when he felt the aching bite of loneliness. Of a muted, mourning despair that he would pass from this world without a single soul to notice his absence.

It was not a life he would wish on anyone.

"I...I am sorry," Hanzo finally said. At least he traveled, could outrun his feelings when they threatened to unmake him completely. To walk the same empty halls, day after day, ceaselessly reminded of a time they were full of life—he shied from even imagining it.

Kuai Liang blinked and a rueful smile replaced the understated, melancholic expression. Somehow, the smile made Hanzo's chest ache more.

"It was a long time ago," Kuai Liang dismissed.

Hanzo was not placated. He looked straight into Kuai Liang's eyes.

"But it is still difficult," he observed quietly, and Kuai Liang's smile, absurdly, stretched just a little bigger.

"You see right through me."

He stood, took Hanzo's demolished plate and returned to the roasting spit.

"No man is a fortress, and I am afraid I am no exception to this rule."

His voice was soft and steady as he refilled Hanzo's plate with another generous portion, but even when he set the dish before him, Hanzo could not move his eyes from Kuai Liang, aware of how something more lingered in the air, the same something that had remained unspoken since he'd awoken.

Kuai Liang did not return to his seat. He stood, looking down at Hanzo, and the impression that his next words would be important grew.

"I rarely leave my home. I hunt what I need and want for little else. But I have grown weary of solitude. And, if you'll forgive my forwardness," and here Kuai Liang broke eye contact, straightened, and crossed his arms behind his back. He took a moment, and Hanzo found himself all but holding his breath.

"I came down from the mountain in search of a mate." Kuai Liang's pale eyes met his, and the earlier look of determination intensified. "And I have found one. You."

A ringing silence stretched.

Hanzo's mouth opened, closed. Opened again. But there were no words. He could not think of a single thing he could say to such a proclamation.

His face felt hot.

Kuai Liang's head tilted. "Have I broken you?" he asked, amused.

His tone finally snapped Hanzo out of his shocked stupor and he stood, his chair scraping loudly against the wood floor.

"I—You—NO."

"We are well-suited for one another," Kuai Liang argued.

"You know nothing about me and—" Abruptly, Hanzo realized how completely absurd this conversation was. "Absolutely not."

"I know that you are brave, honorable, and compassionate." When Hanzo opened his mouth to protest, Kuai Liang stepped closer, just past the bounds of propriety, but Hanzo could not muster the will to burn him. "It would have been easier to leave me to die, but you intervened on my behalf, and even tended to my wounds. What more proof do I need of your worthiness?"

Hanzo stared at Kuai Liang, stricken. He had been ignoring the obvious, glaring fact that had been shouting at him since he'd first met Kuai Liang's eyes, but now that truth refused to be ignored.

His brow furrowed and he stared into Kuai Liang's eyes, wished he could doubt his own, but could not.

"You...you really are the dragon from before..." It was impossible, ridiculous—but the evidence was too plain to ignore.

Kuai Liang smiled. "I knew you were the one the moment we looked at one another." Another step closer, where their chests nearly touched, and Hanzo told himself he would push Kuai Liang away and run—in just a moment. "My ice, it can be unpleasant for a normal human. And in moments of passion, even harmful."

Kuai Liang raised his hand, slowly, tentatively, and though a part of Hanzo's mind, defensive and wary, screamed that he use his flames, now, he did not want to harm Kuai Liang.

The gentle, cool touch of Kuai Liang's fingers brushed across the stubble on his cheek, whisper-soft.

"But with your abilities, you could withstand me." Kuai Liang's eyes fell, hooded and dark with desire. His gaze seemed to pierce straight through. "Yes, you could withstand me well. You are very strong."

"We are complete opposites," Hanzo argued, because clearly he was the only one who had not taken leave of his senses.

"Opposites, yes," Kuai Liang agreed. "But also equals. Compliments. I would have it no other way."

"Well, I will not have you," Hanzo claimed hotly, and his eyes narrowed in a fierce glare.

Far from seeming dismayed by his refusal, Kuai Liang only watched Hanzo as if he were an intriguing puzzle.

"You find me unsuitable in some way?" he asked. "Or, perhaps, you bear the claim of another?"

"I—" It would have been better, to lie, but that was one skill Hanzo had never possessed. "That is not—"

Triumph surged to Kuai Liang's gaze. "If I must prove myself, you need only say so. I can offer you much."

Hanzo finally pushed away Kuai Liang's touch with a sweep of his arm and took a few steps back. He would not hear any more.

"I do not want anything from you. I do not belong here, with you, in—that way. Whatever you believe you see in me, you are mistaken."

"I see only that which you have shown me." Kuai Liang watched him steadily, so sure. "You could have a home here. You would no longer have to hide who you truly are, or be forced to run any longer. You could be free."

Hanzo sucked in a sharp breath, shook his head harshly in the next instant. "You—you can not promise that."

"I can," Kuai Liang simply said.

He pushed Hanzo's chair out of his way, closed the distance between them once more. Hanzo flinched away the first time Kuai Liang reached for him, but Kuai Liang only paused, waited patiently, before resuming the movement. And the look in his eyes, gentle yet firm, kept Hanzo still when he took Hanzo's hand.

Kuai Liang raised Hanzo's hand, placed his palm atop it so he cradled him in his grip like something precious. Hanzo could not recall ever being touched in such a way. He wanted to hate it, but he did not.

"A few days," Kuai Liang proposed, voice a low, beseeching murmur. "Stay with me here, for just a few days. Let me show you what it could be like to share a life together. If you still wish to leave after that, I will respect your wishes. I will take you down the mountain myself."

An automatic denial sprung to his lips, but one look at Kuai Liang's eyes—pleading, soft, and filled with lonely, naked longing—killed the words before he could draw breath.

Hanzo looked away, to the strong, slightly cool and affectionate clasp of Kuai's hands around his. The weariness he always battled in his long journey, heart-sick from constant flight and avoidance, bloomed to an almost unbearable degree, threatened to swallow him completely.

"...A few days?" Hanzo eventually asked, voice unsure and wary.

Kuai Liang squeezed his hand and hope brightened his gaze.

"That is all I ask."

If Hanzo had not been wavering before, that expression would have unmade him; never, had he been beneath the force of such great, bare hope. To say anything else would be cruel.

"...Very well." He darted a quick look at Kuai Liang, glanced away immediately at the sight of his warm, wide smile. "Do not make me regret this," Hanzo warned.

Kuai Liang raised his arm, only smirked when Hanzo's eyes went wide, and placed a gentle, unbearably lingering kiss on the back of his fingers.

"I would not dream of it, Hanzo Hisashi."

#subscorpweek #@summertrapped #@maagspies #@subscorp-week #my stuff #my fics #subscorp

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 years ago

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Shenanigans Masterlist

Memes & Edits

”You’ll get a cold, sweetie.”

Juice Spade; Deuce Space

“Robophobic!”

“My job here is done.”

Flower Crown and Fedora

“Are you tired of being nice?”

“They’re the same picture.”

“Get your head in the game!”

Bambi copypasta

“Hello sir it’s nice to finally meet you.”

Gamer fuel

Just Floyd.

“Fish are friends, not food.”

“The weeb has fallen in love with the drawing!”

Cater’s Unique Magic

Kalim’s Unique Magic

“I’ve only had Grim for a day and a half…”

Daddy Shark

Jack, but not a furry

Malleus-sama!!

ne, ne, jeido~

Ace TWST = Belial GBF (not my work)

(B)ready for Jade (not my work)

Server secret (not my work)

Jade spills secrets (not my work)

I love you, Crewel Sanders! A Finger Lickin’ Good (Boy) Dating Simulator (not my work)

Fukboi Malleus (not my work)

Lilia and Draculaura outfit swap

Good food

Why do we have hands?

Lower your Expectations x TWST

Shitposts & Supplementals

Sakura Kiss/Ouran High School Host Club AU

NRC Host Club imagine

Magical lawyers

Makeup

Rock, paper, scissors

Azul running a butler/maid cafe

Overblotting

Isekai powers

Simping for Fairy Gala Leona

An Idia

Azul is a baby

Trey and teeth

Eel abs

Octavinelle A-kun

Miss Raven’s Unique Magic

Kiznaiver eels

Octavinelle CM, ft. Eel Abs

Forsaken Raven

Bullying Raven

Octavinelle delivery service (not my work)

Mr. Hunt...

Eel *bs

Eel *bs, part 2

Eel *bs, part 3

Vil and Sam

Fan Art/Works

Use the tag #fan art or #gifts for the writing raven to see fan art/creations of Miss Raven!

Jade Simping Saga

Part 1: It begins

Part 2: Another Anon

Part 3: Floyd

Part 4: Jade’s return

Part 5: Getting to know you

Part 6: Bothered

Part 7: Choose me

Part 8: Rook

Part 9: Wedding preparations

Part 10: Eels are predators, you know?

Part 11: A promise

Part 12: A shared meal

Part 13: The hunter’s proposal

Look for #Jade Simping Saga or #Jade Leech thirst if you want to see more (there’s too much thirst 💦)

The Cursed Raven’s Tale

* denotes misc/supplemental information.

Meet Miss Raven!*

How to date a raven*

Love is a Bundle of Contradictions*

The Sorrowful Tale of the Cursed Raven

The Raven; set upon Night Raven College

The Writing Raven’s Diary

Letter from a Leech

The Writing Raven’s Diary; Birds of a Feather

Octa A-kun’s Heart-Thumping Day!

Remembrance

Floating in a Blue Lagoon

Impetus

Outside, Looking In

#shenanigans masterlist #memes #shitposts #Jade Simping Saga #masterlist #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland masterlist #Rook Hunt #Jade Leech #Rook Hunt thirst #Jade Leech thirst #twst masterlist #twst x reader

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vertical-tacos · 10 hours ago

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father and son. I sure do wonder why he looks so scared to see his father...

separates under cut

#vtaco post #art post #hunters > hunted forsaken au #roblox forsaken #homicidalporkchops #roblox c00lkidd #roblox 007n7 #007n7 forsaken #c00lkidd forsaken #roblox forsaken au

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mavs-corner · 3 years ago

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Still tweaking and ironing out a handful of details but- I’ve compiled a timeline of p much all the canon divergence in the AU… and will certainly be adding on more as time goes on.

Forsaken:

Sometime after one of Fikrul’s resurrections, Pirrha is revived.

Next time Fikrul is put down, Pirrha takes his staff for safekeeping, temporarily downing the Guardians that killed him as to not be tracked down, planning to revive the Barons himself. No intention of causing a problem. Merely to have what he considers his family back.

Pirrha dons a new look and takes up the name ‘Aviks’ at some point.

Trickster & Machinist revived, hiding out within the junkyard.

=======

Season of Arrivals:

Iota resurrected, taken in by a group of Eliksni. Proceeded to live with them for a few months before heading to the Last City.

Iota meets Sabik.

Beyond Light:

Iota & Sabik head to Europa.

Phylaks is befriended, begins questioning her loyalty to the House.

Iota obtains the Mask of Bakris after she and Sabik defeat Bakris in the Cosmodrome.

Iota returns to the DSC a few days after the raid, and finds Atraks-1. Keeps her hidden in Charon’s Crossing after Sabik finds out about her.

Atraks-1 returns to the Crypt while Iota is off Europa, revives Praksis with a mechanical body from mid-chest down. (Thundercrashed off the platform in Exoscience by Sabik, resulted in body becoming a mangled mess from the fall & obstacles in way of the ground.)

Praksis begins to build an Exo frame for himself, after seeing how successful the transfer was for Atraks-1. Has yet to encounter one of her DER episodes.

Season of the Hunt:

Iota meets Aviks for the first time after a Wrathborn mission, a very short lived encounter.

Hive Worm sneaks back to Europa with Iota, gets named Oddball.

Oddball is eventually taken by Atraks-1, and given to Praksis for research.

Iota encounters Praksis on one of her visits to Riis to check on Eramis’ status.

Phylaks is brought to speak with Praksis, and seemingly convinces the Splicer to reconsider his loyalties. Praksis is then not seen for months, Technocrats Iron completely off-limits.

Season of the Chosen:

Iota spends most of her time on the Tangled Shore, mainly trying to find Aviks. She takes Atraks-1 with her.

Meets Trickster and Machinist, Atraks-1 seems to get along well with them.

Atraks-1 comes with Iota & Sabik to The Glykon. Baby’s first Guardian mission.

Aviks learns the location of Hangman’s body. (Locus = Reksis in this case)

Season of the Splicer:

Atraks-1 is taken to the Tower, and resides with Iota. Assists Mithrax whenever possible.

Phylaks aids with Overrides on Europa. (Who wouldn’t want to kick machine ass?)

After Quira is dealt with, Atraks-1 is taken back to the DSC. Has become too unstable due to her DER.

Atraks-1’s organic body is fixed and revived with help from Praksis. The Mask of Bakris is no more.

A1 taken by Praksis to Riis Reborn after Iota, Atraks and Sabik leave.

Season of the (redacted)

Influence of Darkness & continuous DER causes A1 to lash out and almost kill Praksis when he begins to press back against her desire to revive Kridis & Eramis.

Praksis had to transfer himself into an Exo frame to keep himself alive. Now known as Praksis-1.

Praksis-1 meets a Guardianless Ghost named Ennis. Decides to travel with them.

====

200+ years later:

Praksis self-reboots at some point (spontaneous reset syndrome), and is now known as Praksis-2. Bares no memories of his old life.

Anix (15y/o Hunter) is revived by Ennis, and is cared for by Praksis-2. Develops a family-like relationship.

Ennis is nicknamed Cotton by Anix due to their shell. (Cottontail shell)

#mav rambles #au rambles #I’m probably going to notice errors later but whatever #Destiny AU

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theshippingcraft · 3 years ago

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Lost and Forsaken Ch 1

Voidwalkers are a species many high end servers want. If found, they are hunted down, broken, and sold off at the highest price. Years ago, one got away, and was recently sighted world hopping. In comes the trigger happy Hunters.

Need to Knows

FalseSymmetry/Xisumavoid, Docm77/OC, Grian/Taurtis

Soulmate + Identifying Marks AU

Eventual DSMP x HCS7 crossover

Voidwalker X, Winged Grian, Seer Joe

Black Markets, Weapons, Kidnapping

Human + Non-Human trafficking

Non-Consensual topics

The owner of the footsteps behind him are quick, keeping pace with him no matter how many crowds he goes through. If he speeds up, they would as well, and they would do the same if he slows down. No matter the sharp turns he would take, or the multitude of players he would put between them, whoever’s following him would still be there.

Every once in a while, he would look back, and there would be no one he could distinguish from the crowd. It would just be the typical people one would find in a hub, or even in a public world. Each player acts the way they should, laughing or talking or exchanging goods with each other. All in all, a happy go lucky place.

The noisy purple portals soon come into view, and the player forces himself to not break out into a run. He can’t let his follower know he’s aware of them, and the being forces himself to walk with ease as his hands search through his pockets. He pulls out his comm., opening it to search through the worlds he has access to. Opening the right world, he frowns at the person that bumps into him, and the world shivers around as the person locks eyes with him, a hand reaching out to him…

theshippingcraft

Joe wakes with a gasp, the air pressing heavily on him as the world spins and throbs around him. The breeze flowing up from the ocean is cold against his skin, a small relief from the warmth that he feels.

He stumbles out of bed, almost falling to the floor as he hastily pulls his glasses onto his face. Joe gasps for breath as he makes it to the field of berries, the sweet smell making the cold air far less sharp against his lungs. He moves as quickly as possible as he pulls out his comm., opening the main chat.

<joehillssays> where’s x?

<joehillssays> please, before it’s too late

theshippingcraft

Xisuma frowns, tail curling up with worry. It’s rare to see the seer beg, and only happens when something horrible and unavoidable is on the horizon. Even then, Joe typically doesn’t reach out to him about it, he usually heads for a far older Hermit for help.

<Xisuma> what’s wrong?

<Xisuma> who should I be worried about?

The ticks pass by as he waits for an answer, and Xisuma pulls on his armor with ease. The helmet buzzes as he carefully settles it down, ears twitching at the noise as more of his Hermits type in chat. He pulls it up on his visor, frowning when he doesn’t immediately spot Joe’s name among the worried questions. Clearly, the man is a bit out of it. Maybe scared as well, if he’s reacting like that.

<joehillssays> you

theshippingcraft

The group whispers amongst themselves, tranq guns and swords being passed around or cleaned. He smiles at the excitement he feels in the air, understanding why his team feels that way. It’s rare to find a voidwalker outside of the Deep End, let alone find one they’ve spotted and lost sight of years ago. Even yet, he prays that it doesn’t get away a second time, hoping that this’ll be the second voidwalker they bag for the Underground.

“Michael!” A voice calls out, and he turns in their direction. “We’re all ready!”

Michael grins, standing up from his kneeling position. Stretching, he nods to the portal as the ‘go ahead.’ Several Hunters whoop in excitement, jogging over to the portal and circling around it. He soon joins them, eyeing the team as they wait.

“Remember the plan.” He tells them, knowing how impatient they can get. It’s what caused them to lose this one last time. “Fuck it up, and I’m putting all of you on the backseat. Got it?”

Several “yes sirs” echo around him, and Michael grins. With one nod, the team steps into the portal two by two, disappearing from the world and into the hub. Hopefully, they’ll be able to grab this one.

#the falsuma AU #lost and forsaken story #xisuma x false #false x xisuma #hermitshipblr #hermit shipping #hermitshipping

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years ago

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Forsaken | Part 9

Summary: As one of the Forsaken, Jinyoung had no right to covet anything as his own. When he stumbles across you standing in the middle of the village he had plundered, the memories of old make him risk it all, clutching at the past in hopes for a better future.

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

Genre: warrior au / star crossed lovers / angst / romance

Warnings: death, kidnapping, cursing, a myriad of emotions - this is a really sad love story.

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

“I believe our plan has been compromised.”

Glancing at Mark in confusion, Jinyoung then grabbed the arm of his comrade and pushed him back into the seclusion of the forest boundary to the camp. Once satisfied that only the ears of birds and the Gods above could hear of them now, Jinyoung urged Mark to speak again.

“At our meeting last night, I felt we weren’t alone. I decided to look into things today.”

“You did signal for us that it didn’t feel right and we changed details out loud just to be safe,” Jinyoung mentioned, folding his arms across his chest. “What did you find to confirm your suspicion today?”

“Bugging materials.”

“Our own?” Mark nodded and Jinyoung cursed. “We have a spy within our camp then.”

This didn’t bode well with Jinyoung. He already struggled with endless concerns over you being so actively a part of this battalion. The men, whilst Jinyoung believe the majority wouldn’t cross paths with him knowing full well he would cut them down if they tried, weren’t all from the same background as he. Jinyoung had learned long ago that aside from the three men he had ridden out with from the beginning of his time in the Rebellion, not to trust anyone else.

Still, it frustrated him to know he had been housing and caring for someone who would betray him like this.

“One of the newer members?” Jinyoung suggested and Mark nodded.

“I’ll look into their backgrounds, see what the hunters have over their necks.”

It wasn’t the first time the Rebellion had placed a spy within his camp, trying to keep tabs on Jinyoung’s war efforts. Although it had irked him in the past, it had all been fruitless. He was an excellent leader, and whilst he knew of the harsher conditions in neighbouring settlements, he hardly felt that feeding his men well showed signs of betrayal to the overlord. If anything, well-fed men performed their tasks more willingly and Jinyoung was known for having one of the best plundering teams in the east.

Nothing had come forth from the findings by the spies in the past, and Jinyoung had believed nothing would fault him in the eyes of their Lord in the future either.

Until you came back into his world.

If the Rebellion learned of your existence, what would their actions be? Searching Mark’s grim expression, Jinyoung knew now there would be every reason to contest Jinyoung’s loyalty to those that they served.

Not that he gave a damn about that wretched loyalty now on the brink of escape.

Still, it sullied their plans. The group was almost about to embark on their departure and if someone was reporting that to the hunters then Jinyoung and his team wouldn’t get far. The reality of the dangers ahead of them were already stacking up as almost impossible to make it all out alive without having someone reporting their exact route south to the fishing boats to take away from this land. Now it would be practically impossible to leave this region if they didn’t think of a counteracting plan, and fast.

“You search the men, I’ll think of another way.”

“Onto it,” Mark announced, stealthily departing Jinyoung’s side. There, he leaned against a tree for some time, contemplating that of their fate.

He would still run. Even if there was only one percent chance of survival, Jinyoung was prepared to take it to get you out of this world.

“Why do you have to leave?”

Glancing up at Jinyoung’s subdued expression, you stopped packing clothes into your small suitcase. “I’m only going for a week.”

“Seven days without you sounds horrible.”

“Now who’s lovesick?” you mentioned with a coy smile, inwardly rejoicing over how much you meant to him. “My grandfather is ill and I have to spend some time with him before I cannot. Mother and I won’t be gone for long, and you can keep Papa company whilst I’m away.”

Jinyoung scowled at you before taking your hand. “If you’re gone, I can’t protect you.”

“As if you protect me now,” you retorted with a giggle, shaking your head loosely. “Why, if anything, it’s me protecting you!”

“Is that so?”

“I’ve kept you safe all these years, have I not?”

“Says the girl who falls out of trees, marches into the wintry depths of the lake when angry, and injures herself easily, all without a single care for her safety. Had I not been here, I doubt you’d have survived any of it.”

A radiant smile crossed your lips and stunned Jinyoung into awe, making you giggle once more at his evident affections for you. Leaning in to kiss his lips softly, you then whispered, “You’re truly my knight in shining armour, aren’t you.”

“I am, so how can I protect you if you’re not here?”

“Don’t worry,” you said, slipping the compass he had attempted to steal from you off of your neck and placed it around his instead. “This will guide you to me. If I’m am ever in trouble, you’ll know exactly where to find me.”

Watching you, oblivious to his current mood, Jinyoung couldn’t relax. He knew if he acted impulsively to protect you that would put you further into the limelight, and so he forced yet another smile onto his lips as you chatted to Youngjae about the best recipes to make with potatoes.

“Clearly a hearty stew is best,” Youngjae exclaimed and you rolled your eyes.

“The potato is hardly the element that makes a fine stew. That’s down to the meat you add into it. Baking a potato within its skin is superior.”

“And dry. Very dry.”

“Not with how I serve it up and you will be eating those words by the time I’ve put dinner in front of you tonight!”

“As long as we’re eating something, it shouldn’t matter how the potato is used, right Jinyoung?” Jackson attempted, nudging the man beside him for assistance.

Your eyes snapped up to Jinyoung’s, finally picking up on his presence in the kitchen. “Jinyoung will side with me.”

“I like a good stew,” Jinyoung announced, turning before your immediate glare reached him directly. “However, I’ve had Y/N’s infamous baked potatoes once.”

“Oh, you did! We ate them the day I came back from my grandfather’s house!”

“They truly were the best meal to have with you.”

“Youngjae, how about we leave the lovebirds to it? I think I might be put off our meal entirely if I’m subjected to the way their eyes glisten when staring at one another.”

“Surrounded by all these people and yet I’ve never felt so lonely in my life. Wherever our next stop is, may it be blessed with fine women.”

“Why, are Sally or Trudy not to your liking?” Jackson crooned as the door shut behind them.

You smiled softly. “You surely can’t remember the taste from all the way back then.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“But I do know you’re troubled,” you mentioned, looking up at him from the stack of potatoes you were brushing clean from any remaining soil. “You’re acting skills around me are just pitiful, I’ll have you know.”

“I guess I should have realised you weren’t as oblivious as I thought.”

“When my eyes and mind linger on you as long as they do? Honestly, you are a fool to think I wouldn’t pick up anything about you,” you teased and Jinyoung moved to your side, reaching for a potato and the brush Youngjae had discarded.

“You’re so sure about me.”

“Why? Are you not about me?”

Jinyoung chuckled. “Given what I have risked thus far and will continue to do, I don’t think that is fair to state.”

“Then why question my love for you?”

“We’re in the kitchen,” he warned and you shrugged.

“We’re all alone in the kitchen. Who will hear of me telling the man who owns my heart that I love him? The potatoes?”

“There are ears everywhere,” Jinyoung pointed out, guarding himself again. Scrubbing at the potato skin, he stopped when he realised his efforts had been too harsh, the skin rubbing off with the bristles.

“Jinyoung!” you cried in annoyance, taking the potato out of his hand. “Don’t you know how fragile the skin is with such force? You brute of a man!”

“I know all too well how fragile this world is.”

“I’m not fragile,” you corrected, holding out your healing wrist towards him. “See, you worried I wouldn’t do well with this. But I have. Look at how strong I am. I even wield swords and shoot arrows now. If anything, I make a finer match for you than I once did before.”

“I’m proud of how strong you’ve gotten,” he murmured, though his chest panged with the thought of how little you regarded the sheer dangers around you. Swallowing back his worries, Jinyoung picked up another potato, brushing at it gently now. “In two days, do you think you could go with Youngjae to collect his order?”

“Oh, he mentioned he had seeds to pick up from the nearby village for our trip. I can do that!”

“Good, you will be gone all day with Youngjae then.”

“I can handle that easily. A trip out sounds exciting! I’ll get to use my compass Papa gave me as well, to find my way back to you.”

Jinyoung nodded, kissing the side of your head gently. “You have to make sure you come back to me.”

“You’ll find me if I don’t,” you pointed out the compass hanging around his neck still and smiled. “I know you won’t ever lose me again.”

Jinyoung was ready for the hunting pack that turned up at the battalion. With your presence not found within the camp, there would be no need to judge that of his leadership skills.

Still, Jinyoung shared no returning smile at the older man now greeting him and Jaebum loudly. “Argo, it’s been some time.”

“And that of you my boy!”

“What brings you to our settlement?” Jaebum enquired as he gestured to the gypsy ladies to take Argo’s horse to the stables. “We don’t often see hunting dogs in our area.”

“I’m here to sniff out any troubles. You know the boss likes us to make sure everyone knows of their place.”

“What troubles may you be considering linger here? Men with full bellies?”

Argo laughed at Jaebum’s statement and clapped Jinyoung on the shoulder, leading him along through the side door into their settlement. The grip upon his shoulder was firm, more sinister than that of booming laugh that continued to sound around their grassy common area.

“Now, I hear of your hearts going soft with all that food you offer. I see you have taken in some servants since I was last here.”

“They make running the place easier. When we’re away slaughtering lives, we know we can come home and be served hot water for a bath and get fed right away.”

“I guess there is no harm in gaining under the name of the Rebellion.” Argo then stared at Jinyoung specifically as he stated, “So long as you remain loyal to our Lord.”

Clenching his hands at his side, Jinyoung then gestured to that of his men. “Show me where a disloyal human here stands and I’ll cut them down.”

“Even if that were of yourself? I heard some rumours that maybe you want to settle down and live a normal life.”

“With as much blood on my hands, how would that be possible?”

Jaebum stepped forward. “Don’t we all want that life? If there was a rumour started, maybe it was about me. I sure could do with a quieter lifestyle. Surely you as well Argo, could enjoy relaxing in your home without having to run about these lands as the Lord’s working dog.”

Argo nodded, his laugh not nearly as bold as before. “You’re quite right. But I know dogs can easily be put to sleep by their master’s if they disobey them. The same can go for any of you.”

“Duly noted.”

“Where is that of your shadow, Jinyoung? I don’t see Jackson anywhere.”

“He’s out on the boundary line keeping an eye on our perimeter. You can’t be too careful these days. You don’t know who or what will venture into a lion’s den.”

Argo chuckled darkly. “And I suppose you see yourself as a lion?”

“Far better than being a dog, don’t you think?” Jinyoung challenged, smirking even. “Unlike you, I’m not afraid to bite my master’s hand if he chooses to betray me.”

“I’ve seen all that I need to then. Keep well, comrades,” Argo announced, heading back out to his horse and his own battalion, the sound of hooves thundering along the track leaving Jinyoung uneasy even when he could no longer hear them.

Turning, he found Mark approaching him, dragging BamBam along by his collar. Yugyeom was dashing along at his side, trying to stop Mark with a pleading tone.

Once the young man was thrown at Jinyoung’s feet, the leader sighed. “So it was you.”

_________________

Part 10

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destieltropecollection · 5 years ago

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Destiel Trope Collection Day 30: Wing Fic

Purifying Snowflakes | @ialwayscomewhenyoucall

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1855 Main Tags/Warnings: depression, snow, first kiss, emotional hurt/comfort Summary: “I was asleep, then I had a nightmare.” Dean closes his eyes, schooling his face to stillness so he doesn’t wince. Angel or not, all the trauma Cas has been through in the past few years means he needs to sleep sometimes. And that same trauma means his sleep is almost always interrupted by nightmares. It’s a vicious cycle, one Dean would do anything to break. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks. Cas shakes his head. “It’s...my room feels too...confined. I need to get out. Could you...would you...walk with me?” “Outside? It’s the middle of…” He’d meant to finish with ‘winter’ but seeing the hope fade from Cas’s eyes changed his mind. “Sure, Cas. Give me five minutes to change. This robe ain’t exactly cold weather gear.” As he’d hoped, this brings the hint of a smile to Cas’s lips. “And you too. I don’t want you wasting your grace just to keep yourself warm. I know it’s not what it once was.” Bristling, Cas starts to protest, but Dean holds his hands up to stave off argument. “Come on, Cas. You take care of me. Let me take care of you, too.”

Always and Forever | @ialwayscomewhenyoucall

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2306 Main Tags/Warnings: greek mythology au, god!cas, hunter!dean, bittersweet ending Summary: Falling to his knees, the hunter spoke. “Forgive me, Bright One. These woods are not always safe. It was only instinct that caused me to draw a blade. But I would never harm you. I could never…” His voice trailed off as he stared into up into the face of the god. Castiel drew the hunter to his feet. “I am Castiel.” he said simply. Dean’s eyes widened. “God of the dawn? I have aptly named you Bright One! You bring light wherever you go. Flowers bloom for you. Birds and bees fly in your wake. Mortals…” He paused, blushing. “Mortals sing songs of your beauty.” --a loose retelling of the myth of Eos and Tithonus--

Feathers | @rogueangelshunter

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2703 Main Tags/Warnings: Domestic fic, wing fic Summary: Early one morning, Dean stumbles onto something kinda amazing. *Set sometime during season 14, when Cas and Jack are living at the bunker and Cas still has his angelic mojo working.

Eros | @supernatural9917fic

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3350 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Universe, Wing Kink, Angel Magic, Dean finally getting his head out of his ass, Sam Winchester is Scarred For Life, switch Summary: Sam finds a spell that can heal Castiel's wings, but there's a bit of a catch...

What Bare Eyes Can't See | @gii-heylittleangel

Rating: General Word Count: 3553 Main Tags/Warnings: Cas with wings; hunt Summary: One of the first things Dean learned when he first met Cas was that he couldn’t see all the planes that Cas exists at outside of his vessel, so when they’re on a hunt for a hellhound and Dean looks at Cas with his scorched with holy fire glasses, he can’t believe his own eyes.

on feathers and dreams | @pomegranatedaffodil

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4984 Main Tags/Warnings: Fairy Tale, Winged Castiel, Inventor Dean, Mutual Pining, First Kiss Summary: Once upon a time, an angel fell in love with a man. But Castiel's brethren did not approve of their bond, and so it was put to the test: if Dean could prove his love and his devotion to Castiel in spite of overwhelming obstacles, and if Castiel could keep his faith in Dean for the duration of his trials, only then would they be permitted to be together.

Angel Wings | @Clio-philyra

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6094 Main Tags/Warnings: Wing kink, fluff and smut, hurt/comfort, Christmas, Summary: Christmas night in the bunker and Dean gets an unexpected visit from an injured Cas.

Finding Flight (WIP) | @ialwayscomewhenyoucall

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 11960 Main Tags/Warnings: space diplomat au, alien!cas, human!dean, mutual pining, angst with a happy ending Summary: Dean, a low-level (human) diplomat stationed in deep space, is part of a team trying to negotiate peace between two peoples who have been arguing for decades. Cas is an alien brought in to negotiate for the other side. When their lives collide, neither will ever be the same.

Cursed or Not | @dates-with-cas

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 15520 Main Tags/Warnings: canon!verse, witch curse, casefic, mating cycles/in heat, winged!dean, masturbation, public masturbation, reference to intended non-con, sex toys, top!Cas, bottom!Dean, implied switch!Dean Summary: When Dean is cursed by a witch, he doesn't even realize at first, so he doesn't bother Cas or Sam with the sudden, unusual pain until it turns into something he can't deal with on his own.

Birds of a Feather | @tucuxia

Rating: Mature Word Count: 17829 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Wingfic Summary: Cas wants a pet. If he can't have a cat, he will find something else.

The Last Repentant | @spnsmile

Rating: Mature Word Count: 23000 Main Tags/Warnings: Graphical Depiction of Violence, CanonDivergent Summary: Who will have mercy on his soul? The first time they landed in Purgatory, Dean was forced to leave the angel behind, oblivious to the many things that happened until Castiel escaped with the help of Heaven. Unknown to them are the Shadows lingering in the Forsaken Land, the tortured Souls that haunted the angel, only to be forgotten when Heaven attempted Castiel’s reform. Years later they dived back in Monster land with a mission to end the greatest manipulator, but with bond strained and brotherhood severed, how will Dean and Castiel reconcile? Especially when Dean wakes up to find the angel taken away by the Leviathans. There has to be something to save them before the tortured souls win another one in their number. Injured and beaten, Dean remembers friendly advice inside a confessional a long time ago. Bless me father…? Nope. A prayer.

Grooming Instincts | @jemariel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 26153 Main Tags/Warnings: Wing kink, grace sharing, angel soul bonds, massage, miscommunication, top!Cas, bottom!Dean Summary: There's something going on with Cas. Dean is determined to help him through it, in whatever way he can. He might end up with more than he bargained for. OR: Dean helps Cas scratch an itch. As it were.

The Angel's Widower (WIP) | @pray4jensen

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 50697 Main Tags/Warnings: Wingfic, Enemies to Lovers, Soul Bond, Switching, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: After Castiel dies, the portal to the other world opens and obliterates the universe that Sam and Dean know. Bobby takes them in, teaches them how to survive in a world with new rules and new consequences, a world where humans live in camps enclosed by high walls to keep angels out, where angels will do anything and everything to seduce and lure humans away. Why and to where beyond the wall, no one knows. While Sam struggles to find a way home, a grieving Dean loses all hope. But then one night, while Dean's guarding the wall, in the middle of a snowy blizzard and under the cover of darkness, an angel with beautiful black wings and a familiar face appears. His name is Castiel. And he asks Dean to go with him.

#destiel trope collection 2020 #destiel trope collection #destiel #wing fic #day 30

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uglyshirtsinc · 4 years ago

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Setting: Fantasy au Plot: Parent has to find their lost child which they had lost contact because they hid them way from their enemies. The child has to survive, from getting hunted down by enemies and hybrid hunters while adoptive guardian tries to keep them safe. Characters: Ranboo, Techno, and Illumina (Why not? Ranboo has to keep on moving to hide and Illumina would be a speedy ninja guardian. Good traits to hide and run and Ranboo knowing how to sneak and speed is terrifying for his hight)

ILLUMINAAAAAAAAAAAA YOU HAD MY INTEREST AT FANTASY SETTING BUT MY ATTENTION AT ILLUMINA WOOOOOOOOOO

Also, holy cow being stealthy while being a forsaken enderman sounds like hell in a hand basket. He can run like a cheetah with the legs as long as a skyscraper so he's a speedy boi

This sounds really interesting and i once again say TANGLED👏RANBOO👏AU👏

If this were a fic i would have it bookmarked and await by my door for updates

#ranboo #ranboolive #technoblade #illuminahd #mcyt #anon asks

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geronimo-11 · 4 years ago

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WIP Sunday

I was tricked tagged by the horrible enabler @cobb-vanthss <3

Here’s some Bounty Hunter!au in which Din is still hunting for the guild and gets Mina’s bounty puck instead of the bounty hunter that gets it in her canon.

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Din held out his hand and pushed a button on the bounty puck in his palm. The woman’s picture appeared along with her name scrolling in a slow circle in bright, flashing red letters. Across from him her jaw clenched and her entire body tensed. He watched her eyes dart desperately from side to side, looking for some means of escape. Din placed his hand over the blaster at his hip in warning.

“Don’t run.” His voice growled out through his modulator, low and threatening. The woman -- Mina, according to his bounty puck -- let her gaze land on him once more, startled by the command in his voice. “My contract says I’m supposed to bring you in alive. It didn’t say anything about bringing you in whole.”

There’s a tense silence between them, charged by the anticipation of one of them making the first move and both determined for it not to be them. Already on edge, Din drew his blaster and whirled around at the sound of something crashing to the ground behind him, anticipating an ambush or maybe one of the woman’s friends coming to help her. There was no threat, though. The loth-cat he passed earlier had knocked over some pottery from the stand it had been perched on and offered him a startled hiss as it darted away.

Din turned back to Mina just in time to see her dark brown hair flying behind her as she rounded a corner at the end of the alley. Gritting his teeth and muttering curses to himself Din holstered his blaster and took off after her. If she wanted to do this the hard way, so be it.

-----------

And - a bit longer - a snippet from their first meeting.

------------

“Please,” she said, holding her hands in the air with her palms towards him to show she had no weapon. Unarmed didn’t mean she wasn’t dangerous, though, and Din kept his blaster pointed right between her eyes. “I need your help.”

Din gave her a quick once over. She had no weapon within reach that he could see, but the bag at her side was bulky enough that she could have one tucked away. Her boots and jacket looked new, contrasting a bit with the old pair of pants and worn shirt she wore. Her dark hair was pulled out of her face and tied at the back of her head, leaving him open to the full force of her pleading brown eyes. Din looked back to the child, still hovering behind him in his hover pram.

The child tilted his head looking from Din to the woman expectantly, and Din frowned. No. Absolutely not. One pair of big brown eyes was more than enough. Two pairs were just asking for trouble.

“Sorry. Can’t.”

Din holstered his blaster as he turned and headed towards the Razor Crest, the familiar hum of the child’s carrier behind him. He held back a groan at the sound of the stranger’s footsteps trailing after them. Kriff he really didn’t have the patience for this today.

“Wait, please,” she started again but Din didn’t stop this time. She kept after him anyway. “I just need transport to Corellia. I can pay you.”

Din shook his head and kept his steady pace. He turned so she would be able to hear his rejection clearly over his shoulder.

“That’s in the opposite direction of where I’m headed. I don’t have the time, and I doubt you have enough money to try and change my mind.”

She made no response but her footsteps faltered behind him.

Yeah. That’s what I thought.

Suddenly they picked up again, faster this time, like she was running to catch up to him. She skidded to a stop in front of him and held up a shining piece of metal.

“You sure about that?”

Din was about to move around her, but one glance down at her hand and he stopped dead in his tracks.

It was a beskar credit.

Knowing she had his attention she smiled and reached into her bag. Din tensed, but watched as she pulled out another beskar credit and held it next to the other.

Din’s hands darted out and he grabbed her wrists, lowering her hands as he stepped closer to try and hide the credits from view. He looked around to make sure no one was watching them before he tilted his helmet towards her.

“Where did you get those?” He demanded.

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

“It doesn’t,” she repeated firmly. “What matters is that there’s more where these came from. A lot more, if you stop asking questions.”

The woman paused, as if waiting for another rebuff and smiled when he didn’t say anything. Din clicked his tongue in annoyance and glanced down at the credits in her hand. There was an Imperial symbol stamped on one corner, just like the ones he’d gotten from his job to attain the kid. He tilted his head to see her better.

She was pretty, with smooth tan skin and dark, shiny hair. The way she held herself screamed she was used to some form of authority, and her hands looked like they’d never seen a day of manual labor in her life. Clearly she wasn’t from the lower levels of this practically forsaken city, so where the hell had she gotten Imperial beskar credits? Was she working for the Empire?

He didn’t have much time to dwell on his thoughts. The woman cleared her throat and pulled her wrists from his grasp to place the credits back in her bag.

“If you won’t help me, fine. I’ll just have to find someone who will.”

#i'm obsessed with them atm #<3 <3 <3 #my ocs #my writing #oc: mina korso #mina/din

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youngster-monster · 4 years ago

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After me comes the flood

christmas gift for my dear friend @baronetcoins. love you bud, and merry christmas ✨

[set in an AU where their Awoken Hunter, Ayin, came in time to save Cayde during Forsaken, but not his Ghost.]

Ayin paces outside the hangar like a cabal warhound waiting for its beastmaster to cry havoc. The City has been long emptied by the late hour. She’s thankful for it. There is no one here but the Traveler to witness her agitation, the way Light bleeds out of her in fiery sparks trailing down her fingers. She hasn’t had such a weak grasp on her Light for years — not since she was a kinderguardian — but tonight she doesn’t care to control it.

She’s not supposed to be here. In fairness no one’s supposed to be anywhere but in bed at this hour, but she in particular was meant to be out of the City two hours ago, bound for Europa on a mission with her team.

Something came up.

Something is yet another group of Guardians in the Crucible encasing their opponents in ice coffins. Something is the Kinderguardian she met earlier, who turned to stasis out of curiosity. Something is the complete silence from the Vanguard while the protectors of the City collude with the Darkness.

If they won’t do anything about this, then it’s her duty to convince them… before she does it herself.

Resolution renewed, she strides into the hangar.

It’s empty as expected, mechanics and engineers gone to catch some shut-eye as ship traffic slows for the night. The only source of movement left is the flicker of an old camping light propped up on Holliday’s workbench. Cayde is bent over it, grumbling over some piece of intel or other. Every so often he’ll shift and obscure the feeble light, casting his long shadow over the floor.

She clears her throat lest she catches a knife in the throat. He gets jumpy without Sundance warning him of approaching people.

Cayde whirls around, lifts a hand to his chest as if to still a beating heart he doesn’t, technically, have. “Oh,” he says, relaxing. “It’s you. Hi!”

“Waiting for someone else?”

“Kind of expecting Ikora to come drag me to bed, actually.” He turns to fully face her and folds his arms with a tired sigh. “Lemme tell you, if you’d told me during her Crucible days that she’d be such a mother hen I’d have called you mad.”

Ayin is hardly prone to mothering anyone, let alone Cayde, but even she can’t deny the spark of concern igniting inside her at the sight of him. His eyes are dim with exhaustion, whatever machinery that keeps him alive running on a third of the power it needs. But more than that he looks weary. Havy. There’s something weighing him down that wasn’t there before.

(Its name is grief, the same one that hounds his footsteps since the Prison of Elders, taking the space Sundance used to fill. He’s better than he used to be — better at hiding it in the daylight at least. But here, with only her as a witness, he lets the full brunt of it show plain on his face.)

“You look terrible,” she says, because it’s easier than I’m worried about you.

“Thanks,” he replies, only half sarcastic, because it’s easier than putting into words the anger-grief-bittersweetness that comes with pity or concern (both interchangeable). Like so many things, Ayin only knows to notice it because she’s done it herself, learned it from him. “So, what can I do for you, Crusader?”

The nickname is affectionate, an in-joke. It’s also a reminder, though he never means it that way.

“I have…” She pauses, unsure how to bring it up. “Concerns.”

“Concerns?”

“About Guardians using stasis.”

“Aah, that’s what I thought.”

Cayde chuckles, but his whole demeanor changes as he steels himself for a serious conversation. She’s more familiar than most with the seriousness he hides under his jokey behavior, but it’s always a relief to see him take this so seriously. Even if everyone stopped listening to her, she knows Cayde would always let her say her piece.

“Do you know what I saw in the Crucible today?”

“No?”

“Ice bursting through armor. Tornadoes of hail. Stasis, everywhere. And all Shaxx had to say about it was that it’s a tool. ‘A weapon like any other’. He let it happen, like it’s not the very thing we’ve been fighting against all our lives.” Again she starts to pace, almost against her will. Tension runs through her limbs, fingers curling around the hilt of an imaginary knife. She hates this game of politics, of begging the Vanguard to take action when it would only take a word from them to unleash her on this new enemy. “This can’t go on, Cayde. You — the Vanguard — can’t turn a blind eye this time. The Darkness has already taken Io, Titan, Mercury- and now it’s taking Guardians? It’s not going to stop. Not unless we stop it. And this? This ain’t it.”

Out the corner of her eyes she sees him shift, tilt his head in consideration.

“So, what are you suggesting? That we should ban stasis?”

His sceptical tone makes the spark of righteousness flare. He doesn’t get it— be he will, soon. He has to understand she’s right on this. “Yes, exactly!”

Calmly, almost placating, he replies, “People are gonna try their hands at it whether we allow it or not.”

“But if you forbid it, I can hunt them down for it. Bring them to justice.”

Her voice rings in the heavy silence. For a moment, nothing breaks the silence but her breathing and the soft whirring emitting from Cayde. Then,

“Ayin...”

He sounds nearly pleading, but she can’t allow him to interrupt her. Not yet. She can still convince him, she knows it. He has to see her point. He must.

Breathing deeply, she tries to leash her enthusiasm lest he mistakes it for fanaticism.

Without his support, she can’t reach the Vanguard, and without the Vanguard, there’s nothing she can do. She learned that from the new Dredgens, and the Renegade who runs after them. It takes more than a single man to take such widespread evil down. Aying doesn’t have that much time. She needs resources, the space and power to lock up her targets, keep them off the streets. She needs the system on her side.

“It’s our job to keep the people of the City safe. Our duty. How can civilians trust us to do that when any Guardian could be another Dredgen Yor in disguise? How can they trust us, when nothing is done to keep them safe from ourselves? We can��t bother with compromise with so much on the line-”

“Ayin.”

She stops her pacing, turns around, ready to beg for a moment more of his attention—

His eyes stop her in her tracks.

Why does he look so sad?

Cayde holds her stare for a second. His shoulders are tense, betraying his seemingly-relaxed position. He looks just like when he has to announce the loss of one of his Hunters, or when he has to send a fireteam on a mission they’re unlikely to come back from unscathed, if at all. Like the words are stuck in his throat, tangled in the wires.

Eventually he gives up on words altogether — she can see it in the working of his jaw, the way the light behind his teeth dims as his vocal processor goes idle again.

Slowly (like he doesn’t want to do it. Like he’s afraid he’ll spook her) he offers her his hand, palm up. Under her watchful gaze, he shifts his fingers minutely—

And frost blooms over the leather of his glove.

Ayin’s breath freezes in her lungs.

Silence settles over them like the second before thunder. Both stare at the ice crystal suspended over his hand. Ayin with mounting horror, and Cayde as an excuse to avoid her eyes. Then, a flick of his wrist shatters it. The shards turn to fine glittering dust on their way down, and then to nothing, never touching the ground.

For a moment Ayin is overwhelmed by feelings — shock, betrayal, sadness, fear, burning anger. They tangle together, blades interlocked into a sharp ball of hurt, until all she can feel is an odd sort of numbness. Like she’s been cut open and sedated.

“Why?” She whispers.

His sigh turns into fog, briefly leaving his face as nothing but two burning eyes staring at her through the faint cloud.

“You know why I hate being Vanguard so much?”

Ayin snarls at the non sequitur.

She’s not usually so prone to losing her temper, but the betrayal lit a fire inside her she doesn’t feel like quenching.

“Is this really about hating your job?”

She hates the way her voice cracks at the end, but Cayde, mercifully, doesn’t react in any way to it. He just shakes his head, faceplate shifting minutely in frustration like he’s trying to explain something and can’t find the words that will make her listen.

“I wouldn’t- It’s about doing the damn job.” He rubs his head like he has a headache, pushes his hood back as his hand trails down to the back of his neck, resting there for a moment. “You said it was your duty- you know what’s a Hunter's duty? It’s being out there, charting unknown places, going where no one’s gone before, all that jazz. Not being stuck in the City. Being a Vanguard, it means sucking at being a Hunter, and- I’m good at being a Hunter, right?”

He’s got the stereotypical recklessness in spades, that’s for sure.

Not, that’s unfair. Cayde has a core of steel that won’t let him back down in the face of insurmountable odds. That’s what makes him a good Hunter. Reckless as it may seems, it’s a true quality, one she admires and has always tried to emulate. It only makes her angrier at the powder ice still caught in the folds of his clothes. He should have known better.

Unphased by her lack of response, he continues.

“Turns out that might not even be true, huh? Told them spending that much time in the Tower would make me go soft.” He does that heartbreaking thing, where he tilts his head slightly like he’s expecting Sundance to appear just over his shoulder with something witty to say. “But- it made me think about it. The whole duty thing. I spent all of my time as a Vanguard doing everything I could to go back in the field like I’d do my job better there- and when it went wrong, I had to reflect on like- my mistakes and stuff. And I thought- maybe I approached the issue the wrong way, you know?”

“You’re not answering my question.”

She’s proud to hear her voice stay level despite her frustration. She wants to trust Cayde, trust that he’ll eventually get to the point and explain to her… What? That it all makes sense? That it’s going to be fine? At this point Ayin’s not sure whether she’d rather hear reassurances or apologies.

Actually she might punch him if he apologies. He’s made a terrible choice: the only thing worse than this would be that he’s unsure about it himself. And as little as she’s willing to be convinced— she wants to be. She wants, for once, to be proven wrong, to see that stasis isn’t as evil as she assumed.

Anything that will make Cayde’s use of it more bearable.

“I’m gettin’ to it! What I mean is- Hunters are s’posed to scout ahead. First ones in the field, to gather intel and make sure everyone’s got the info they need to do their job and come back safe. We’re the literal vanguard. And with the Darkness moving into the system- we need that kind of assurance. We need someone to jump into the unknown and tell us how far the bottom is.”

“Somebody always needs to go first,” Ayin says softly, like muscle memory.

Cayde doesn’t bother finishing the saying. She knows it as well as he does. “I can’t do much without a Ghost, but I can do this. I can be there when Guardians need someone to turn to when their new powers go awry. And… yeah, I can be here when one of them needs to be stopped. That’s good enough for me.”

Ayin crushes the hint of pity that rises in her. It wouldn’t go appreciated: Hunters, as a rule, would sooner die than be pitied. And if she lets herself feel pity then she’ll start to think about it.

She’ll think about the fact that her best friend, her family, is running out of time.

It’s already a miracle he survived the Prison of Elders. Most ghostless don’t make it an hour past their Ghost’s death. But she was there, and she couldn’t save Sundance, but she could save him, and she did. When the night is dark and she finds herself regretting not being fast enough, she always turns to that thought for comfort: she got him out alive. He won’t be there forever, but at least she has a few decades left with him before he ends up like Banshee and starts forgetting her face.

(If she told him about that fear, she knows the first words out of Cayde’s mouth would be “I’d never forget you”. But he doesn’t get to choose. She’s long given up on hoping for the best.)

And now— now he looks her in the eyes, and he tells her he made the one choice that’s sure to shorten these years they have left. She’s seen what happened to Eramis. She can’t bear to imagine it. The dark ice crawling over his limbs, choking what’s left of his light.

It breaks her heart.

Not only because she loves him, and she doesn’t want him to be hurt. But because he made the one choice that could drive her away from him.

Taking in the Darkness, supporting the Guardian who made the same terrible decision, accepting help from the very enemy you seek to destroy. This— this isn’t a mystery that needs to be solved. This isn’t terra incognita that needs to be charted. At least not by them. if anyone should do it it’s one of the Awoken Techeuns, or the Warlocks already banished from the City because of their heretical research. Hell, even Eris could do it. Someone who’s already dipped into the dark and is eager to learn more.

Someone who’s already lost.

Not the one person Ayin can’t bear to lose.

She swallows past the lump in her throat. She closes her shaking hands into fists. Her heart beats unevenly with anger and grief. She pushes all those useless signals aside, tries to find her way to the rational mindset that earned her the nickname of Crusader.

Don’t think about the implications. About the pain and the loss. Set it all aside. Just like in battle.

A great calm settles in her.

“How… could you.”

Her voice is nearly as cold as the power she came here to plead against.

“I’m sorry, Ayin, but-”

“Don’t. Apologize,” She grits out through clenched teeth. “You’ve seen what happens to those who use stasis! How could you be so- so stupid?”

His eyes narrow, light dimming ever so slightly. “I’m not an idiot, Ayin. I know what I’m doing.”

There’s an edge to Cayde’s voice this time. A note of warning.

But Ayin is far past listening to the sirens. She is the warning. The receding of the water before a tidal wave; the purple skies before a hurricane.

“Do you? What is this, then, an overly complicated suicide attempt? I didn’t save your ass in the Prison of Elders so you could throw it away-”

“Throwing it away? There’s more to fighting a war than killing the enemy faster than it can kill you. At least I’m helping people.”

The anger simmering in her guts flares, shattering her artificial calm. Her whole body tenses like it’s getting ready to go for the kill.

“Are you saying I’m not?”

He takes a step forward, gestures toward the Hangar — the damage from the Red War that they never got to repairing, the pictures of Guardians swallowed by the encroaching Darkness they pinned to a wall as a memorial. Proofs of past catastrophes.

“Nothing we’ve done so far managed to stop the Darkness. Maybe stasis will help, maybe it won’t, but we have to try.”

“And risk playing right into their hands?”

“If that’s what it takes to survive, yes!”

“We’re supposed to fight the Darkness, not join-”

“World’s changing, kiddo. We do what we have to do to survive-”

“Don’t. Call me. Kid.”

Cayde is reckless, impulsive, and he doesn’t know when to quit. Dogged determination has gotten him out of problems more often than he can count.

But sometimes, it also means he doesn’t think before he talks, and he says things such as,

“Why should I, when you’re just as naive?”

The silence that follows is a living thing. It stretches until it fills every inch of the space and curls around Ayin, swallowing her as well. It’s like she’s trapped inside of her own body, deaf to anything but the hammering of her heart and the roaring of the fire inside her chest. Her mind is stuck in a loop—

(how dare you how dare you how dare you)

(why would you cut me off like that why why why)

(betrayer)

When she comes back to herself there are sparks slowly dying on her fingers, and Cayde’s pinned against the pillar he was leaning against.

They make an odd tableau, the two of them. Her, hand outstretched, still as a marble statue, and Cayde, stopped mid-movement, his own hand reaching for her as if to apologize again, a knife sticking out of the hood of his cape, inches from his neck.

“Ayin, I didn’t mean-”

Then why did you say it?

She doesn’t voice the thought — doesn’t trust herself to stay calm, to miss the next time a knife slips from her fingers. She flexes her fingers, forces herself to relax, slows her breathing.

He lets his hand drop.

When she leaves, she doesn’t look back, and he doesn’t call for her.

#writing #destiny 2 #cayde-6 #ayin seeks

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